The sunlight filtered through the dense trees, creating spots of light in the otherwise murky jungle. Cameron remembered to try to avoid such bright spots since they could temporarily blind him by dilating his pupils. Even with all the care he took walking around them, a beam of sunlight reached his face. He instinctively shut his eyes but it was too late, enough light had entered his eyes to dilate his pupils. He stepped away into the shadows and rapidly blinked to readjust his vision. He scanned the jungle and frowned when he noticed several bright spots in his field of view. Cameron knew it would take about a minute before the spots faded away and he would be able to see clearly again.
He remained uncomfortably still, hiding behind a thick tree trunk, firmly clutching his MP5. Once more he scanned the terrain ahead and froze. Something didn’t feel right. His ears had heard a sound that didn’t belong in the jungle. Straight ahead. He struggled to see what had caused the light metallic noise. Then he saw the well-camouflaged soldier, the leaf-covered shape of a man lying on his stomach next to a tree. Which way is he facing? Cameron couldn’t tell. His instincts told him that it was toward the clearing.
That guy’s good, Cameron thought as he moved sideways. Now he had to be extremely careful to disguise his own sounds as he made a wide sweep to position himself behind and to the right of the soldier. If his experience had taught him anything it was that he definitely didn’t want to approach straight from behind; the soldier had probably booby-trapped the area directly behind him to protect himself from exactly this type of attack.
As he made his approach, Cameron scrutinized the leaf-covered terrain for signs of disturbance. The only type of trap anyone could have set up in such a short period of time was a small antipersonnel mine, easily concealable under the leaves.
He proceeded in a crouch, carefully feeling the terrain ahead with the tip of his boot. Most mines required only two to five pounds of pressure to go off. Cameron lightly brushed his foot over the terrain and moved the leaves aside to get a clean view of the hardened soil prior to setting his foot down. The procedure slowed his advance, but the alternative made it worthwhile. The soldier lay less than thirty feet away. The long barrel protruding through the leaves told Cameron the soldier was indeed facing the clearing.
A gentle breeze swayed the branches of nearby trees. Cameron took advantage of that to move a bit faster since he had the wind to help him mask the sound he made when moving the leaves to the side. Twenty feet. Then sentry remained still. The wind intensified a bit. Fifteen feet. He dropped to a deep crouch and slung the MP5 across his back. He wanted to take him alive. He needed information.
Cameron curled his fingers around the plastic handle of a black-coated, serrate-edge, hunting knife. He took another step.
Snap!
Cameron froze for a brief second. The figure began to emerge from under the blanket of red and brown leaves. Cameron moved swiftly, closing the ten-foot gap in under three seconds. The soldier was about to bring his weapon to bear when Cameron grabbed the barrel with his left hand and pointed it to the sky, dropping the knife in the process. It was an AK-47 assault rifle. The weapon went off once, twice. Both men rolled on the ground. Cameron brought his right knee up, driving it viciously into the man’s testicles. The blow had the desired effect. The soldier let go of the weapon and they both began to roll. They crashed against a tree and separated. Cameron felt the MP5 flying to the side.
Cameron got to his feet in seconds and noticed the soldier had done the same. The man pulled out a knife from his belt. Cameron realized he had dropped his own knife to grab the AK’s barrel. He saw the soldier’s lip curving upward.
Cameron assumed a fighting stance — left leg forward, body sideways to the soldier — and waited. He would let the soldier make the first move. The soldier did, starting to walk in a circle. Cameron did the same. The circle got smaller and smaller, until suddenly the soldier slashed the knife out in a semicircle. Cameron stepped back. The soldier slashed again. This time, though, Cameron’s back crashed against the trunk of a tree. He was trapped. The soldier’s face hardened. Cameron knew what that meant.
The soldier lunged with the knife in front and aimed for Cameron’s breast bone. Cameron reacted swiftly, pivoting on his left leg and rotating his body sideways to the attacker, missing the incoming blade by an inch. The soldier’s arm went past him. The knife plunged itself into the bark. Cameron grabbed the attacking wrist with his right hand and palm-struck the elbow with his left.
“Aghh!”
The soldier stepped back and stared in disbelief at his arm, broken at a repulsive angle. Before he could react, Cameron stepped sideways, coiled his left leg, and extended it upward, heel up, toes pointing down. The powerful sidekick landed on the soldier’s gear vest and pushed him down. Cameron jumped on top and sat on the soldier’s chest, pressing his knees against the soldier’s arms.
“Who are you? Identify yourself!”
The soldier stared back at him and in a single move, managed to lift both legs and encircle Cameron’s neck, pulling him back. Cameron rolled and easily freed himself from the lock. The soldier broke into a run. Cameron knew he could not let him go alive.
“Vite! Au secours! Au secours!” Cameron heard him scream.
Cameron jumped left, landed on his side, and grabbed the MP5. He set the side lever to single-shot, trained it on the departing French soldier, and fired once. The sound suppressor absorbed most of the noise, letting out only a barely audible spitting sound. He noticed his aim with the MP5 had not worsened through the years. The soldier was propelled forward and crashed onto the leaves headfirst. Cameron got up and quickly ran over and checked for a pulse. There was none. The bullet had entered the soldier’s back and exploded as it exited through his chest, leaving a hole large enough for his fist to fit in. Cameron turned him over and quickly checked for documents, but found none. He knew he didn’t have much time left. The rest of the unit was probably on the way after hearing the AK-47’s shots.
Cameron slung the MP5 across his back, grabbed the soldier’s feet, and dragged him toward a thick cluster of trees. He turned around and froze, staring straight into the black muzzle of a Colt Commando.
“Hola, cabron. I remember you.”
Cameron didn’t answer. He had heard a noise to his left and shifted his gaze in that direction. There stood another soldier. The first one scraped some of the mud off his face.
Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Ortiz?”
“Yeah, pendejo. What took you guys so long?”
Cameron exhaled. You shouldn’t have done that, Ortiz. I could have—”
“I doubt it, man. By the way, name’s Tito, not Ortiz.”
Cameron smiled. “All right, Tito. I brought some supplies with me. They’re behind that tree. Where’s the rest of Mambo?” Cameron headed for a rosewood tree fifty feet away. Ortiz followed him.
“On the other side of the clearin’. Where we going?”
“Home, Tito. We’re going home.”
Crowe bolted up from the bed the moment Davenport stormed in.
“Up, Kenny! We’ve found them.”
“Found them? Where? How?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. We don’t have much time. From what we were told, there are seven soldiers and a civilian alive and well.”