Page 11 of Echoes and Oaths
The camp didn’t resemble any cartel compound Jinx had ever seen. It lacked the usual chaos and swagger. No shirtless men were lounging inhammocks, no blaring music, no signs of idle hands or indulgence. Instead, the structures were sharp-edged and efficient, their construction military-grade. Tents were arranged in perfect grid formation, and their positions were clearly calculated to minimize exposure. Camouflage nets covered the entire area to maximize protection should an airstrike occur.
A perimeter was clearly defined, patrolled, and reinforced. No drunken guards stumbling on their watch. No mess. No weakness.
Through the high-powered binoculars, Jinx scanned the compound again, gaze lingering on details others might have missed. A long-range parabolic mic picked up scraps of conversation, streaming in low over their shared earpieces.
“It’s not just a camp,” Jinx muttered, voice low and tight. “It’s a base. This wasn’t thrown together. It was planned.”
Raven lay beside him, her chin resting on her forearm, eyes sharp as they tracked movement below. “It’s got a comms center, a proper chow hall, latrines, showers … hell, there’s even a perimeter watch rotation. That’s not cartel. That’s paramilitary. Maybe ex-military.”
“Yeah,” Jinx agreed grimly. “But that doesn’t meanthe Ghost isn’t here.”
For three days, they’d watched. Studied and mapped the routines and rhythms of the base. The man Guardian intel pointed to asEl Fantasma. He was a brash officer in his late forties with a heavily scarred face, a nose like a hawk’s beak, and a distinct limp. He carried himself like a man in charge. Loud. Commanding. Swaggering through the camp like a rooster in a henhouse.
But something didn’t sit right.
“Something’s off,” Jinx said, narrowing his eyes as the man in question strutted across the compound.
Raven nodded. “I believe the Ghost is one of the men down there … but I don’t think Guardian has the right one.”
Jinx tilted his head in agreement. “We’re going to have to watch a hell of a lot longer to figure out the dynamics. Something’s not adding up.”
He adjusted the scope, tracking the scarred man’s movements. Too flamboyant. Too visible. An assassin, especially one as feared and elusive asEl Fantasma, didn’twantattention. He existed in the shadows, invisible until the moment his target dropped. Every kill linked to the Ghost had been tight, clean, and untraceable.
This man strutted like a politician. He wasn’t a ghost. He was a peacock.
“Assassins don’t broadcast themselves,” Jinx muttered. “And if this guyisthe Ghost, then we’ve got the wrong file on the right man.”
“Or the right file on the wrong man,” Raven said as she set down the parabolic mic, rubbing her eyes. “No way a man with that limp and that face disappears into a crowd. And yet the Ghost? No one’s seen him. That level of anonymity without our kind of tech? That takes skill.”
“He needs to blend,” Jinx agreed. “Disappear into a crowd, change appearance, walk into a place and out again without anyone remembering his face.”
“This guy’s too obvious,” Raven said, voice flat. “The nose alone is memorable enough for a thousand IDs.”
They both stared in silence for a moment, the forest whispering around them. Leaves rustling, insects buzzing in the thick, humid air.
“We need to restock,” Raven finally said, pushing up to her knees and stretching her back.
Jinx nodded. “You didn’t have to come with me,” he said as they backed away from the ridge line, careful not to dislodge any rocks that might give away their position.
Raven dusted off her woodland camouflage BDUs and snorted. “And what would I do? Sit in that little cabin all by myself?”
“You could’ve rested. Waited for the next mission.”
“Oh, please,” she muttered, slinging her pack over her shoulder. “You know I don’t get field assignments like this often. Just let me play a little.”
“Play?” Jinx raised an eyebrow, smirking as he grabbed his own pack and followed her down the slope.
Raven grinned over her shoulder, her ponytail swaying with each step. “Okay, maybe notplay. How aboutcamping? I haven’t done this since we went through training together.”
“And youmissthat?” Jinx gave a low, incredulous laugh. “Woman, you’re insane.”
“I am not insane,” she shot back, eyes twinkling. “Youknowthis. We were all tested.”
Jinx chuckled as they descended the steep trail into the lower jungle, their boots crunching over roots and loose stone.
Sunlight slanted through the canopy, dappling their path in shifting gold and shadow. Birds called in the distance, and far below, the river glinted like a snake winding through the trees.
Raven moved like a predator. She was silent, sure, deadly.
