SEAL's Desire (Alpha SEALs Coronado #1) - Makenna Jameison Page 0,12
nearby. I don’t know exactly where I am. Please help me.”
He cut off the video, looking at the footage on his phone. Before she could say anything, he turned and was walking back out of the tent.
“Wait! What’s going to happen to me?”
The tent flaps rustled behind him, but no one came back.
Blowing out a sigh, she sank to the ground again. Once again, she was completely and utterly alone.
Chapter 7
Blake crossed the airfield, his combat boots kicking up dust. After a seven-hour flight, he’d only gotten a few hours of shut eye. He’d gone over the specs and then closed his eyes, but all too soon, they were landing outside of Bogota.
“This beats the damn desert air any day,” Grayson said, falling in step beside him.
“Don’t I know it,” Blake agreed, looking at the mountains in the distance. “After our last trip, I had sand in my gear for weeks.” He rolled his shoulders, his neck stiff from sleeping on the damn plane. “I sure the hell won’t miss cleaning that out of everything I own.”
“Fucking Middle East,” Grayson said. “No wonder these assholes set up shop here. The climate is sure better.”
Blake chucked. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was better access to U.S. soil that brought them to South America. Not that they’re exactly close to our border down here in Colombia, but the government officials are easier to bribe than the Mexicans.”
“Yeah. That’s because the drug cartels are big business there. Here, too, come to think of it. They must not have bribed them very well though since here we are.”
“Not our problem. The Colombian government agreed to cooperate with us on the op. We’ll move in, grab the asshole in charge, and move out. The Colombian military can deal with whatever mess is left behind.”
“Shit fellas,” Logan said as he caught up. “I’m wiped. Think they have any decent coffee here?”
Blake smirked. “I’m sure it can be arranged.”
A military vehicle rolled up, and a Colombian contact of theirs got out, sauntering over to meet them. His driver watched as their group began talking. “You wasted no time in getting here,” the government official said with a laugh.
“That’s how we roll,” Blake said. “Our plan is to move in tonight unless it looks like he’s on the move.”
“Nah. They’ve been stockpiling weapons for the past two days. I don’t think they’ll move the goods until everything is ready. It seems like they’re planning on a caravan north.”
“Ballsy,” Grayson commented.
“They’ve got deep pockets,” the man chuckled. “They can bribe whoever they need to along the way. It worked so far—they’ve got a damn camp set up.”
“Not for long,” Blake ground out. “This operation ends tonight.”
“I must get to a morning meeting. Let me know if I can be of assistance in the meantime,” the man said.
Blake nodded, and the men watched as he climbed back into his vehicle and drove off.
“What’s the plan?” Troy asked, dropping his rucksack down on the ground as he walked up.
Blake briefly scanned the airfield. Their pilot was exiting the C-17, talking with some ground crew. Members of the Colombian military were walking around, conducting their usual business, and Blake spotted a U.S. DEA agent he knew. Blake nodded but then turned to his men.
“Let’s grab some food and then get down to business. We’ll go over the latest intel, discuss how we’ll infiltrate the camp, and then we wait.”
“Just another day in Colombia,” Grayson said, smirking.
“Tonight will be anything but regular for them,” Blake said.
***
Clarissa glanced around the empty tent. Her head hurt and she was exhausted, but she didn’t dare fall asleep again. It was morning, and that meant the camp would be awake. She was tied up in here, helpless, and anyone could come in and harm her. Touch her. Do whatever they wanted.
She saw silhouettes of men moving outside and heard voices, but no one had come back for her. Yet.
Trucks had been rumbling up for the past hour, and she wondered if they were bringing more weapons. She shuddered to think about who was the target—no doubt they were after Americans. If she ever escaped, she’d have to warn someone. The embassy?
She didn’t even know how to get back though.
Her gaze fell on the grass growing inside of the tent, and she absentmindedly wondered about the nitrogen levels in the soil. The grass would wilt soon if they kept the tent here—no sunlight was coming in.
She froze as the tent flaps suddenly moved, and a man strode inside.