Show No Fear - By Marliss Melton Page 0,37
why not? he asked himself. Sure, it was ostensibly filled with hornets, which in equatorial regions carried stingers with twice the venom as in North America. There were probably vampire bats in there, too, and maybe the roof would screw up his signal, but with the shed set off to one side of the camp, he’d have all the privacy he needed for a lengthy conversation.
It couldn’t be any worse than Hell Week at SEAL/BUDs training, he reasoned. Or the mock torture they’d put him through at the Farm.
With a deep breath, he pushed off the bungalow deck, resolved to do whatever it took to get thrown into the shed.
Lucy was going to be pissed at him for not consulting with her first. He hadn’t exactly modeled the concept of teamwork lately, but then again, one of his jobs on La Montaña was to keep Lucy alive and out of trouble, not drag her down with him.
Crossing the camp, he ignored her curious regard as he passed through the muddy clearing toward the orange tree that edged the training field. One of the rebels had left his AK-47 propped against it in lieu of carrying it on his back during drills. Either Buitre hadn’t noticed yet, or he didn’t care.
Arriving at the tree, Gus paused to listen to the deputy’s instructions on burying a landmine. Buitre was down on his hands and knees placing a dud in the wet soil, showing the younger rebels how to cover it up. If the FARC were disintegrating, as intelligence suggested, then this level of training wouldn’t be necessary, would it? Gus wondered.
Picking up the abandoned rifle, he turned it over with the air of a man who’d never held a gun before. From the corner of his eye, he noted Lucy’s tension as she watched him from the fire pit. He’d better move fast before she thought to interfere.
Hearing a rustling overhead, he looked up, making eye contact with a howler monkey. “I’d move if I were you,” he advised. With a final glance at Buitre, who’d noticed him at last, Gus pointed the weapon up into the branches and fired, missing the monkey by a mile.
“Crack-crack!” Bullets splintered branches overhead, raining down splinters and leaves.
“¡Estúpido!” roared Buitre, drawing his handgun as he stormed toward Gus, wild-eyed, his face flushed. “Drop the weapon!”
Feigning startled surprise, Gus dropped the assault rifle instantly. Lucy and Fournier were racing toward him nearly as fast as Buitre, but the deputy got to him first. Pulling back his fist, he plowed it into Gus’s jaw with a swing Gus could’ve sidestepped, only he didn’t.
Ouch, that actually hurt. Clamping a hand to his swelling lip, he put on a face of wounded innocence. But it wasn’t over yet. Buitre spun him around, shoved him against the tree trunk, and thrust the barrel of his handgun between his ribs. “You idiot!” he seethed. “What do you mean firing a weapon at my soldiers?”
“Sorry,” Gus rushed to apologize. “I was pretending to shoot the monkey and the gun went off.”
“He wasn’t even aiming at your soldiers,” Lucy jumped in, defending him. “Put your gun away,” she ordered. “It was an accident.”
“Accident?” Buitre rounded on her. “There is no allowance in this camp for accidents. He could have killed one of my soldiers with his carelessness. He must be punished.”
“Comandante,” said Fournier, addressing the deputy by a title calculated to inspire dignity. “Please, excuse Gustavo. He knows nothing of weapons. His sight is poor. I’m sure he meant no harm.”
“You are sure?” Buitre repeated. “I am not. I have watched these two.” He nodded at Gus and Lucy accusingly. “They are not like the others.”
His accusation struck Fournier dumb. The negotiator swung a troubled look between them.
“You’re paranoid,” Lucy accused Buitre. She seemed hell-bent on getting punished along with Gus.
“Let it go, Luna,” Gus advised, sending her a meaningful look. “I made a mistake. I’ll take the punishment. Just stay out of it.”
“Stay out of it?” she repeated, displaying classic Spanish temper. “You’re my husband. You want me to stay out of it?”
He could practically hear her saying, What happened to teamwork, buddy?
Fournier placed a settling hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “I am sure when Commander Marquez arrives, he’ll resolve the matter at once.”
Buitre very deliberately released the safety on his shotgun, causing all three of them to fall silent. “You,” he said to Lucy, who had stepped protectively between him and Gus, “step away from him.”
Fournier took a cautionary step back, pulling