Drake Sisters 04 - Dangerous Tides

from the madness of his perpetual and all-too-real nightmares.

    Major Biyoya had a lot to answer for, and torturing Ken was first on the list. Jack wasn't walking away quietly. He'd never just walked away in his life. It wasn't in him and never would be. Biyoya was going to be brought to justice—his justice—one way or another, because that was what Jack did.

    He slung the rifle around his neck, tucking the scope and shells into an ammo belt. As fast and efficiently as possible, he gathered his weapons, using a pack from the back of the truck. The nine-millimeter Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    handgun was a must. He took as many grenades, blocks of C4, and claymore mines as he could carry.
    Loaded down, he crept to the tailgate of the truck and peered out. The guards were watching the clean-up of the mess he'd made of the camp. Jack went out of the truck headfirst, going down to the ground and sliding beneath the truck for added cover.

    It was a much more difficult challenge moving his supplies from the circle of vehicles back to the jungle.
    He inched his way, feeling the numerous bites from insects, the oppressive heat, the ground and grasses tearing up his body, and the mind-numbing fatigue. He could no longer block the fiery pain of his various wounds. In spite of the darkness, it took longer than he'd anticipated crossing the open circle and making his way through the guards.

    He was nearly to the vehicles when one of the guards turned abruptly and walked straight toward him.
    Jack froze, sliding his cache of weapons under the broad-leaf plant closest to his hand. He had no choice but to lie prone in the darkness, relying on the camouflage of his body. The guard called to a second one and the man ambled over, shifting his rifle across his body. They spoke in Congolese, a language Jack was somewhat familiar with, but they were speaking rapidly, making it difficult to make out everything they were saying.

    The Fespam Music Festival in Kinshasa was supposed to be larger and even better this time, with the performances that had been brought over from Europe. The guard desperately wanted to go because The Flying Five were performing. The general had promised them they could go, and unless they found the prisoner, no one would be going anywhere. The other guard agreed and dropped a cigarette almost on Jack's head, crushing it with the toe of his boot before adding his own complaints.

    Jack's breath stilled. The Flying Five. What kind of a coincidence could that be? Or was it sheer luck.
    Jebediah Jenkins was a member of The Flying Five and he had served with Jack in the SEALs. If Jack could make his way to Kinshasa and find Jebediah, he could get the hell out of Dodge—or would he be walking into another trap?

    The moment the guards moved on, he began to inch toward the forest again. Once into the heavier foliage, he went up into the trees, stashing his supplies and taking the time for another satisfying drink. He repeated the trip into the circle of vehicles, making his way back through the guards to the supply truck.
    This time, he went for more claymore mines, wires, and detonators. Patience and discipline went hand in hand with his profession and he had both in abundance. He took his time, thorough in his set-up, never once allowing his mind to freeze under the pressure, not even when soldiers nearly stepped on him.

    He wired the beaten path leading into the jungle, tents, the outhouse, and every remaining vehicle.
    Minutes turned into hours. It was a long time to be in the enemy camp, and he felt the strain. Sweat dripped into his eyes and stung. His chest and especially his back were on fire, and his leg throbbed with Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    pain. Infection in the jungle was dangerous, and he'd been stripped of his gear and all medical supplies.

    Somewhere in the distance, Jack caught the cry of the monkeys and immediately sorted through the sounds in the rainforest until he caught the one he was waiting for—the sound of movement through brush. Biyoya was bringing his soldiers home, wanting to wait until they could examine the damp ground for tracks. Jack knew Biyoya would have confidence in regaining his prisoner. Rebel camps were spread throughout the region and villagers would not risk retribution and death by hiding a foreigner. Major Biyoya believed in torturing as well as ethnic cleansing.