Page 35 of Green Ravens

“Unfortunately, not at this time. But our field leaders will be back before nightfall, and as soon as they do, our first priority will be to let you contact your command. I can’t imagine being presumed dead.”

“We’re not presumed dead!” Sawyer snapped. “MIA means missing in action. No military personnel is presumed dead for a couple of years.”

“Again, my apologies.” The man retreated a few steps and began to point out various tents. “We do have the means to provide for you while you wait. Food, bathing materials, and toiletries. We have a medical doctor as well.”

Now they were all staring at his burns and singed hair.

“Elliot, show the chiefs to the dining tent. I’m sure they want food and water first.”

He and Oakley glanced at each other, and without a word, they both nodded.

“After you eat and hydrate, you’re more than welcome to use any facilities we have.” The director put his hand over his heart as if he was about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. “We are so appreciative of your services, chiefs. It’s because of men like yourselves that we have the freedom to do what we do.”

Sawyer wanted to call bullshit. There was something about this guy he didn’t like.

But hell, he didn’t want him to be a friend. All he wanted was food, water, and a phone.

Chief Aiken Oakley

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Oakley asked Sawyer while scarfing down his third roast beef and cheese sandwich.

“Yeah, chief. I see it.”

Sawyer seemed addicted to papaya now because he’d only eaten one sandwich but had left no fruit for anyone else.

“I’m gonna act like I don’t.”

No one was eating with them—perhaps they’d already had their lunch—because the ones who’d been working so diligently when they’d arrived were now scurrying like crazed squirrels, covering whiteboards, hiding notebooks, slamming laptops shut, and tucking away spreadsheets.

“Aren’t you suspicious?”

“No,” Sawyer growled. “I don’t give a fuck if they have a cocaine crop they’re harvesting. When they come back with that phone, we’re radioing command and getting the fuck outta here, Oakley.”

Oakley frowned.

“Then you’re more than welcome to report whatever you want.”

Sawyer got up and grabbed another bottle of water.

Oakley was appreciative of the wash, the donated clean clothes, and the food, but there was something off about this group ofallmen.

A tall man in light-blue scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck ducked his head inside the tent. He appeared to be in his late forties. He had a head full of wild blond hair and soft lines framing his sky-blue eyes.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Richards,” he said with a warm smile, extending his hand to Oakley and then Sawyer. “I was told one of you could use some medical attention.”

The doctor focused his gaze on Sawyer, staring at the right side of his face.

“May I?”

Sawyer cut his eyes to him as if seeking permission. After Oakley gave him a slight nod, Sawyer stood and turned his head to the left.

Oakley didn’t like the gentle way the doctor held Sawyer’s cheek while he palpated the inflamed skin along his throat.

“Any pain here?”

Sawyer shook his head. “A little, not much.”

“You two have been braving the Amazon for days, huh?”

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