something through the door.
Taylor took a deep breath and said something that included the words “agua” and “baño.”
Brodie saw Emilio through the narrow slats of bamboo as he approached the door. Brodie hoped for two things—that Emilio was alone, and that Emilio had the keys. One out of two would not be a win.
Brodie whispered, “When I say go, you step forward smartly, soldier, with a full thirty-six-inch stride.”
“Okay…”
The door opened, and Emilio stepped inside and squinted in the dim light. “Qué?”
“Go.”
Brodie lunged forward holding the log tightly on his shoulder, and the end of the log connected with Emilio’s face, crushing his nose and jaw, which Brodie actually heard cracking.
Emilio fell back like he’d been hit in the face with a two-hundred-pound log. He was half in and half out of the door, and Brodie quickly scanned the small clearing in front of the hut. No one there, but he heard voices in the distance.
He glanced back at Taylor, who had sunk to her knees. “Okay, let it roll off.”
She let it drop to the floor, and her end fell on one of Emilio’s legs, causing him to let out a groan. Brodie’s end came down on Emilio’s chest. He rolled the log off and quickly went through Emilio’s pocket, found the keys, and unlocked the padlock on his shackle, then handed the keys to Taylor. While she unlocked her shackle, Brodie retrieved his Glock from Emilio’s waistband and found the extra magazine in Emilio’s pocket. He grabbed the chain with both hands and told Taylor to do the same, and together they dragged the log out of the doorway and into the hut; then Brodie grabbed Emilio by the ankles, pulled him inside, and closed the door.
Brodie gave Emilio a quick glance. He was still breathing and his face was a mass of blood, with one eye bulging out of his broken eye socket.
Taylor knelt beside Emilio and unstrapped Brodie’s watch, telling the dying man, “You won’t need this where you’re going.” She handed the watch to Brodie, then went through Emilio’s pockets, finding Brodie’s Swiss Army knife, which she kept, then a half bottle of water, which she drank from and passed to Brodie, who finished it. Taylor unclipped Emilio’s walkie from his belt and clipped it on her T-shirt, then handed Emilio’s sheathed KA-BAR knife to Brodie, who stuck it in his pocket. She gave Emilio a final pat-down and located a Zippo lighter, which she passed to Brodie. “You want his cigarettes?”
“Only if they’re edible. Okay, let’s get this log back where it was.”
“Why?”
“To cover the scene of the crime.”
Taylor nodded, and they each grabbed a chain and dragged the log to where it had been. Then they covered Emilio with armfuls of palm fronds, so if anyone poked their head in and didn’t see Emilio in the dim light, they’d think someone had taken the prisoners somewhere else. Brodie looked at the mound of fronds, which was moving. “It would be better if he wasn’t breathing.” He looked at Taylor.
They made eye contact, and she shook her head. “We don’t do that.”
“All right… but—”
“We don’t become them. We did what we had to do.”
Taylor was showing great restraint. Brodie, on the other hand, wanted to cut Emilio’s throat, but only to minimize the danger to themselves. He knew where he’d learned this stuff, but he didn’t know when it had become part of him. Brodie’s pacifist parents had forbade him even playing soldier. Goes to show you. It’s baked into the Y chromosome.
Brodie heard someone speaking in Spanish, and he pulled his Glock and turned quickly toward the door.
Taylor said, “It’s his walkie.” She listened, then scanned the channels. “Just normal chatter.”
“Okay. Keep monitoring.” He moved to the closed door and listened. “Okay… let’s go.”
They exited the hut and closed the door. Brodie looked around the clearing to see if anyone had left an AK behind, but no such luck. He motioned Taylor to follow, and they began moving in single file down the narrow trail, with Brodie holding his Glock at his side.
Taylor came up behind him and whispered, “Where are we going?”
“Two choices. The jungle or the river.” He stopped and they both crouched. Brodie said, “The jungle is all around us, and it’s easy to get into but not so easy to get out of.” He listened a moment, then said, “If we get a boat, we can go downriver to Kavak—if we think Kavak is safe. Or we can go