Page 42 of Legacy's Destiny

Deacon clapped Ralph on the shoulder, grinning. “Whether it was fate, a higher power, or sheer coincidence, I’m just grateful you were there. Take care of yourself, Ralph.”

As they exited the tent, the humidity had thickened. Mud clung to their boots as they made their way to the large shelter where the rest of the team waited. It was early, and the air remained muggy despite the fact the sun was only now rising. Deacon slung his pack over his shoulder and turned to address the group.

“We’re heading up over the mountain to the other side. That’s where the landing zone is.”

The team’s gazes followed his upward gesture, landing on the steep granite walls looming above them. The climb promised to be grueling.

Bandit turned to Echo. “Are you good with this?”

She nodded, adjusting the straps of her pack with a small, determined smile. “I might need to rest more than you, but I’ll make it.” She lifted her boot and grinned. “Look, Mom—no blisters.”

Bandit chuckled, nodding approvingly. “All right, but don’t overexert yourself. If you need a break, let us know.”

Deacon slipped an arm around her shoulders, his voice low but firm. “Believe me, I’ll be keeping a close eye on her.”

Ace smirked, his tone light despite the tension in the air as he said, “No one here doubts that, Cap.”

The team chuckled softly as they strapped on their packs. The distant hum of a helicopter spurred them into action. It wasn’t their ride, of that Deacon was sure. More than likely, it was the cartel once again trying to locate the person or people who’d taken the device. The rhythmic thrum grew louder as it combed the jungle canopy below them. With Ranger taking point and Ace on their six, the team disappeared into the dense undergrowth, leaving no trace of their presence in the village.

The jungle was a relentless adversary. The monsoon rains had turned the ground into a swampy mire. Each step became a battle against the sucking mud. The air buzzed with the sounds of life—birds calling, insects chirping—but the steady drone of the helicopter was a grim reminder of their precarious position.

Some time later, Deacon called for a break, his sharp gaze scanning the team before he crouched beside Echo. “How are you holding up?” he asked, his hand resting lightly on her neck.

Echo’s face was flushed, her breaths measured but shallow. She looked up, her resolve clear even through her fatigue. “I’m keeping up. It’s not easy, and I won’t pretend it is, but don’t stop for me. I’ll let you know when I need a break.”

Deacon pressed his forehead against hers, his voice dropping to a reassuring murmur. “I wasn’t stopping just for you. About fifty yards ahead, the jungle breaks, and we’ll be climbing straight up that mountain. Everyone needs to be refreshed before we hit the face—we won’t be able to stop once we start.”

Echo followed his gaze to the granite walls towering above them, their rain-slicked surface glistening like polished glassthrough the sparse canopy. She swallowed hard. “I’m not a great climber.” Deacon unbuckled his pack and pulled out a length of nylon rope, tying it securely around her waist before attaching the other end to his. “You’re stuck with me now,” she said wryly as she watched him.

“You bet I am,” he replied, his tone steady. Turning to his team, he called, “Next leg’s over the mountain face. Everyone ready?”

Ranger nodded. “Not much cover up there, Cap.”

Deacon nodded grimly. “I know, but the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Let’s hustle.”

The granite provided a welcome respite from the mud, but the rain-slick rocks were no less treacherous. Deacon and Ranger worked together to find foot and handholds, leading the team carefully upward. The helicopter’s drone ebbed and flowed, the sound blending into the jungle’s relentless noise.

As they reached the mountain’s crest, the helicopter lifted rapidly, its blades slicing through the humid air. “Shit,” Deacon muttered. “Take cover.”

Ace snorted. “What fucking cover?” he shot back, but the team quickly crouched behind boulders and rocky outcroppings, making themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

The helicopter hovered for a tense moment before banking sharply and retreating. The team held their positions, muscles taut with tension, waiting for its return. When the drone finally faded, Deacon stood, muttering a low string of curses under his breath.

Echo moved to his side, the slack rope between them pulling taut. “Do you think they saw us?” she asked, her wide eyes scanning their surroundings.

“There was no way they couldn’t have seen us,” Deacon said flatly, his voice a mix of frustration and resolve. He turned to theteam. “We’re moving. Two and a half hours to the landing zone and our exfil team.”

Rip’s voice broke the tension. “They’re sending in a team for us?”

Deacon’s lips curved into a rare smile. “Ronan and his men.”

Ace let out a laugh. “That twin thing again, huh? I swear all the medical books say it’s not real, but I’ve seen it too many times to doubt it.”

As they traversed the rain-slick granite at the top of the mountain, the team moved with practiced precision. Every step was deliberate, their boots scraping against the uneven rock face. The air was sharp and cooler that high up, starkly contrasting to the oppressive humidity they’d left behind in the jungle below. Echo walked beside Deacon, her steps careful on the treacherous terrain.

“If I’m slowing you down, let me know,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with concern. “I can move faster if I have to.”

Deacon glanced at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in his, her grip firm despite the strain of the climb. “You’re not holding us up,” he reassured her, his voice low but steady. “We’ll reach the landing zone in a little over two hours. If we were spotted, they’ll be waiting for us.”

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