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“They were pretty convincing.”

He stared into the trees and then turned to her. “I want to put some distance between us and them before it starts getting dark.”

“That’s hours away,” Allie said, but not disagreeing.

“It’ll be here sooner than you think.”

Chapter 21

Chiang Rai, Thailand

Jiao watched the blinking icon on his phone from his position by the hotel pool, a cool soda in hand, a nearby oversized umbrella providing welcome shade. The Americans were flying a methodical search pattern he recognized from the prior day — about as exciting to watch as grass growing. He sighed and closed his eyes, reasoning that there was worse duty than the one he’d been assigned, even if he despised Thailand on principle; the place was little more than a den of inequity populated by barbarians.

His phone beeped and he opened his eyes. When he focused on the screen, he sat up, staring at it in disbelief.

The icon had disappeared.

He tapped buttons and rebooted, but still, nothing. Blinking rapidly as his mind raced, he was at a loss for what to do next. He called Xiaoping and told him what had occurred.

“How many men do you have there?” Xiaoping snapped.

“Three.”

“We cannot lose the Americans. They’re our only lead. Find them.”

“How?”

“That is up to you. Use whatever resources you think appropriate. But do not fail.”

Jiao hung up and stood. He understood what he needed to do. What exact form that action would take eluded him, but he would figure it out. He fingered the screen and zoomed in on the last location the blip had been… and spotted a small river.

He would start there.

* * *

Spencer held up his hand and stopped walking along the track he’d been following. He cocked his head, listening. Allie’s eyes narrowed and she looked back at the trail. Spencer motioned for her to get down and she did, taking cover behind a tree.

The snap of a twig sounded from down the trail and she froze. Spencer took cautious steps to her left as he removed another magazine from the duffle, and then set the bag behind a bush and raised his weapon, his hand steady as he flipped the assault rifle’s collapsible wire stock into place. He stood unmoving, sweat coursing down his face, his attention laser-focused on the approach.

The bushes rustled thirty yards away, and he adjusted the aim of the AKM’s muzzle a few degrees. Allie withdrew her pistol, flicked the safety off, and thumbed back the hammer.

Another rustle. Spencer squinted down the sights, ready to open fire.

A boar emerged from the brush and snorted before it took off at a run past them. Allie exhaled with relief and was standing when she heard something else.

The sound of men moving along the trail.

Of course. They must have scared the wild boar out of the undergrowth.

She caught Spencer’s eye and he tilted his head, silently urging her to move toward him. She complied, her pulse pounding in her ears, her finger hovering over the trigger of her pistol, which seemed puny and insignificant now. He murmured in her ear, so softly she could barely make out his words.

“Follow me. We’re going to try to hide. Don’t shoot unless I do.”

They crept off into the dense foliage. Spencer took care not to break any branches as he forged a new track, moving stealthily as he searched for the path of least resistance.

When they had made it twenty yards, they froze at the muffled sound of soft voices. Both slowly crouched down, and Spencer brought the AKM to his shoulder as Allie watched the trail.

A half-dozen gunmen came into view, walking single file and toting AK-47s. The lead man held his gun at the ready, the others’ weapons were dangling from their hands or hanging from shoulder straps. They moved deliberately, their caution evident from their body language and the constant motion of their eyes.

The lead gunman abruptly stopped and the others fell still. The jungle was quiet, and Allie was sure she could hear the men breathing. The leader raised his rifle tensely, and then the errant boar exploded from the brush in front of them and tore off like the devil was after it.

Two of the men laughed nervously. The leader cut them off with a hand gesture, obviously unamused. He slowly swept the area with his gaze, and Allie instinctively shrank even lower, willing herself to be invisible to the gunmen.

After a seeming eternity, the column continued down the trail. Spencer and Allie remained immobile for five solid minutes, and when it was safe, he drew closer to her.

“Looks like they’re more persistent than I gave them credit for.”

“What do we do?”

“My gut says we backtrack.”

“What? That’s nuts.”

“No, it’s where they’ll least expect us — behind them. They’re probably following our footprints.”

“Won’t they stop once they see there aren’t any more?”

“Depends. The ground was spongy earlier today from the morning rain. But it’s getting firmer, so for the last bit we haven’t left any.”

“Then why are they still after us?”

“Because they know they’re on our tail. We’re just going to trick them.”

“What about whoever’s back at the boat?”

“We’ll deal with that when we get there. They know this jungle. It could be there’s an outlet further along, or even a camp. So their advantage is familiarity with the locale. Our only edge is to do the unexpected.”

“I guess that doesn’t include crying and praying for it to stop.”

Spencer smiled. “Maybe later.”

“I wish I’d held onto my machine gun when I bailed out of the helicopter.”

“Hey, you’re here in one piece. Daeng isn’t. I’d say you were pretty fortunate by any measure.” He stood to his full height and checked the time. “Let’s get moving. Ideally we’ll be across the river before dark. I don’t like the sound of spending it in Myanmar with these guys nosing around for us, do you?”

She gave him a frown. “I gather that’s a hypothetical question.”

The slog back was slower. By the time they neared the river, its burbling surface visible through the leaves, the sun was setting. Spencer warned Allie to stay put and crept away into the brush. Allie resisted the urge to follow him when he’d been gone for ten minutes, but after twenty, she began to panic. The only thing that kept her rooted in place was that she hadn’t heard any gunshots, which she was sure she would have if Spencer had encountered any gunmen.

When he returned, his face was grim. “The boat’s there. Two shooters.”

“Where were you?”

“Taking a look at the river to see if there’s anywhere promising we can cross.”

“And?”

“There is. Just around the bend from the boat.”

“That’s cutting it pretty close, isn’t it?”

“We have no choice. It widens out and looks like it’s no more than three or four feet deep.”

“Maybe that’s why the boat stopped where it did?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. That thing can’t draw more than a couple of feet, tops. They stopped near the helicopter because they wanted to pick up our scent. And probably Drake and Uncle Pete’s as well.”

“Oh, Spencer…”

“Don’t worry. But it’ll be night soon. We should give it a try before it’s too dark to see.”

“You think there are crocodiles here?”

“They’d be the least of our problems.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a sat phone in that bag of tricks so you can call in the cavalry, would you?”