Taylor stood and nodded to show she was okay. Brodie motioned toward Mercer, and they moved back to the boat. They were supposed to practice noise discipline in situations like this—quiet movements and minimal talking—so Taylor motioned for him to come to her side of the boat. Together they tipped the narrow boat, dumping Mercer onto the mud.
Taylor whispered to Brodie, “We shouldn’t leave the boat exposed.”
Brodie looked around for a place to conceal the long boat, but the vegetation on both sides of the narrow trail was too thick. He whispered, “We’ll capsize it and send it downriver.”
“What if we need it again?”
“It’s out of fuel and we’re out of gas. This trail goes only one way.”
She nodded, and they pulled the boat away from Mercer, then capsized it. Taylor cut the bow line and they pushed the boat into the river, walking it out until it got caught in the current.
Brodie watched it floating hull-up, downstream toward Mercer’s camp, then Kavak. There’s nothing like a capsized boat to signal that the passengers went overboard and are probably in the food chain. Also, for him and Taylor, getting rid of the boat was the equivalent of burning their bridges behind them.
But first, a cooling bath in the warm, muddy river. Brodie held his sat phone up and went under a few times while Taylor stood motionless in neck-deep water which they shared with the crocs, snakes, and piranha. There had to be a better way to make a living.
They waded back to shore, and Brodie now noticed the croc tail tracks in the mud.
Taylor retrieved Mercer’s shorts, which had fallen in the mud, and wrapped them around his neck; then Brodie dragged him into the shallows to get him cooled down. Mercer lay in the water and stared up at Brodie, who stared back.
Taylor came over to them and they dragged Mercer back to shore. Brodie crouched beside Mercer and said, “Okay, Kyle, here’s the deal. Listen closely. Maggie and I are going to hike up this trail for about two hours. Somewhere in that jungle is an airstrip. An Otter is coming in to take us to someplace nicer than this. You are welcome to come along—but only if you keep up with us. We are not missing that flight. If you don’t want to come along, we leave you here, hog-tied, for the next croc that comes along. I shit you not. Very serious about that. And if you decide to come with us and you drag your ass, we’re leaving you behind with your hands tied so howler monkeys can bite your balls. And you have no underwear. Right? As for the cougars and panthers, keep in mind that they are an endangered species, but not as endangered as you. And finally, the constrictor snakes. You ever see one of those wildlife shows where a constrictor slowly wraps itself around—”
“Scott. He gets it. We all get it.” She crouched beside Mercer. “Will you come with us, or stay here? Nod or shake.”
Mercer kept staring at them.
Brodie said, “I’m not trying to oversell this, Kyle, but your last—and only—chance to get back at Worley is to come with us. You have, literally, five seconds to decide. I’m running late.” Brodie counted, “One… two… three… four… four and a half…”
Mercer nodded.
“Good choice, Captain.”
Taylor drew her knife and cut the rope around Mercer’s ankles, leaving him with his hands tied behind his back.
Brodie and Taylor lifted him to his feet, and Brodie said to Mercer, “I’m leaving the gag in, but if you step lively, I’ll take it off when we find the airstrip. Understand?”
Mercer nodded.
“I’ll let you keep your good jungle boots, and I’ll hike in my socks. But that could change real quick if you drag your ass and we decide to leave you here. Understand?”
Again, Mercer nodded.
“Good. So we understand—no malingering, only compliance. Malingering, which is punishable by up to six months’ imprisonment under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, is punishable here by death. Got it?”
Mercer nodded, but Brodie didn’t see defeat in his eyes—he saw fire. Hate. Defiance. Brodie hoped Captain Mercer got at least life in prison, because if Kyle Mercer was ever freed, Scott Brodie and Maggie Taylor would join Brendan Worley on Mercer’s must-kill list.
“Okay. I’ll take point, Kyle middle, and Maggie brings up the rear.” He turned toward the narrow trail, drew Mercer’s Desert Eagle, and walked into the jungle. Next stop, a drug