more cartel arrived, our situation worsened by the minute. A few started to horse around, and one guy practically fell inches from my boot. Like the classic scum they were, meth lined their veins, and discipline was nonexistent. The sound of a flint striking, and the distinct smell of cheap cigarette smoke filled my nostrils. Holy shit. I didn’t have to see him to know he was there. My fingers tightened on the trigger, and just as I was about to make my move, Chamness’s voice called out over his radio.
“Back Mirror, Black Mirror.”
The man beside me froze, fiddled with something, then turned and shouted to his men to move, and just like that, they all headed out.
I took a moment to settle my heartbeat and eased up to my feet. I stayed glued to the tree and listened for any sound. I pulled up the radio and clicked it to let Mike know I was ready to move out.
The cold steel cut into my flesh right below my hairline. Blood ran down my brow and dripped from my lashes.
“I smelled you, gringo. Your stink gave you away.”
A blow to my knees had me face down on the ground. His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me back up to my knees, and the blade found its way into the groove of the cut. Another two men appeared. One looked totally strung out, and one stepped up to me.
“You thought you could outsmart us, but we outsmarted you. He was right to go for the young blood.”
Who?
The junkie scratched his neck wildly as his eyes shifted around, no doubt waiting for the rest of my team to emerge.
“Scalp him already,” he hissed, and I noticed most of his teeth were missing. I tried to think of a way to escape, but I couldn’t see a good outcome.
The one in command smiled at the junkie before he pulled out a GoPro camera and aimed it at himself. Then he rolled up his shirt and showed off his spiderweb tat with the seven in the middle of it to the camera. He then made a strange motion with his hands like a variation on how a Catholic would cross himself, then he turned the camera on me.
“This is for you, Denton.”
The shock of The American’s name blinded me momentarily as…zip, zip! A warm spray shot over my face, and the machete lost its pressure and tumbled to the ground along with its owner. I jumped to my feet and kicked the guy with the camera in the gut just as another bullet lodged into his skull. The junkie cowered on the ground, and I drilled my fist into his face and sent him backward and into the hot coals of a fire. I frantically felt my head to make sure I still had hair and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I wish Trigger was here to see that.” Mike emerged quietly from the bushes. “You good?”
I nodded, wiped some blood from my eyes, and shook off the last few moments. I wished I had time to process it all, but I knew we needed to get the hell out of there fast. Using the butt of my gun, I removed the camera and tucked the piece of old technology in my side pocket. I scooped up my gun and headed out with Mike on my heels.
Thirty minutes into the jog, my mind still spun in about a billion and one different directions. It wasn’t until Mike’s fist hit my shoulder to get my attention that I jumped back into the present.
“Clear that shit out of your head before we get there, Black. Whatever it takes, just do it.”
I stopped and closed my eyes for a second and felt the gash that stung like a bitch whenever I moved my face.
Mike took a seat on the ground with his weapon raised, ready to fire. He was giving me my moment.
With an unsteady breath, I did the forbidden and pulled out the satellite phone and called home.
“Logan,” Daniel’s voice rasped over the phone. No doubt he hadn’t left his son’s office since we’d left.
“It’s Black.” I tried to keep my voice even, but it was a task.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m breaking protocol to clear my head.” I went with the truth. He knew I would never do that without good reason.
“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “what do you need, son?”
I wiped the blood from my eyes and let out another uneven breath.