Show No Fear - By Marliss Melton Page 0,74
ATVs shot into view around the base of the mountain, bouncing across the field to approach the rebels.
Oh, no, thought Gus, his heart racing as the vehicles came nearer.
But yes. The released officers, Marquez, Buitre, and some select Elite Guards were going to ride up the mountain, leaving the rest of the men to walk. Lucy was about to be whisked away.
Gus leapt to his feet, loath to let her out of sight. He began running, crashing pell-mell into branches and fronds as the ATVs revved and whined and raced back the way they’d come. Approaching the river’s edge, Gus paused to catch his breath. Think, he ordered himself. Think, Gus. You can’t possibly keep up.
As motivated as he was to kill the enemy with his bare hands, he couldn’t save Lucy on his own.
He needed to wait for his teammates. Goddamn it, they had better be on their way!
A flash of movement had him ducking behind a fallen tree. David’s squad, who’d been following the riverbank upstream, looking for Gustavo’s washed-up corpse, had stopped like startled deer, scanning the area, guns poised.
They hadn’t seen him, had they? Over the rushing of the river and the humming of his eardrums, he strained to hear their conversation.
Risking a peek over the log, he saw to his relief that they were now moving away from him.
If they had searched downriver rather than up, they would have come upon his tracks already. David, raised as an Arhuaco, was a reputed tracker. Gus would have to take great pains to hide from him.
Darting from his hiding place, he slipped back into the jungle, covering his tracks as he did so. Until his teammates flew in to recover him, Lucy was doomed to endure what the FARC dished out.
He hoped to God they wouldn’t break her before they managed to rescue her.
PINNED ON AN ATV between Buitre and the Elite Guard captain, Lucy felt her terror rise as they bumped and swerved back up the mountain. Deeper and deeper they pressed, past the shipment of hidden weapons, past Ki-kirr-zikiz, past the ridge where she and Gus had spied on Rebel Central, to the brick casita, where Buitre cut the motor at last.
Eyeing the cozy structure where she had slept with her hand on Gus’s heart, Lucy now felt his absence keenly.
She could not believe she had been brought here to be interrogated, of all places.
She wasn’t ready for this.
The last time an Elite Guardsman had questioned her, he’d brought her face-to-face with her mortality. Since then, she had fought to contain her fear, to give courage back its rightful seat. And she had just been winning that battle. Now she was back in the clutches of those who’d traumatized her in the first place. Wasn’t life ironic?
When’s it going to end for you, Luce? Gus’s worried visage swam up from the well of her memories.
Not here. Not now. She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t do it to herself.
She had no choice but to find the grain of courage still within her and hold fast to it.
“Off!” Buitre ordered, and the captain who sat behind her leapt off, tugging the length of her chain to pull her after him. She staggered off, stumbling to find her legs weak with fear.
“Why so pale, señorita?” he taunted, tugging her closer. “Or is it señora? You had a husband until recently. Was he a spy like you?”
She flicked a glance at Buitre. Then her suspicions were founded. Gus had been dumped in the river intentionally. Only she couldn’t begin to picture him dead. She knew he wasn’t. She could still feel him inside of her, quietly supportive.
“Spy?” she scoffed, pleased with the fearless tone of her voice. “I’m a human relations officer with the United Nations. And you are making a very costly mistake.”
“There is no mistake,” Buitre raged, spittle flying from his mouth. “David overheard you speaking English. He saw you stealing from my quarters.”
Lucy sighed and shook her head. “I always practice English with my husband. And I was looking for my medicine in your quarters.”
Buitre lunged at her, but with a cool smile, the captain stepped between them. “You may leave this to me, Deputy,” he promised with frightening calm. “I know just how to make her talk.”
Lucy’s blood seemed to crystallize. She fought to keep from blanching.
“Step inside,” the captain invited her, gesturing genteelly for her to precede him.
As Lucy edged into the shadows of the building, her gaze slid helplessly to the