Drake Sisters 04 - Dangerous Tides

muddy, torn road.

    The rain began again, a steady drizzle that added to the stirring life of the jungle. Monkeys resumed their eating and birds flitted from tree to tree. Jack caught a glimpse of a boar moving through the brush. An hour went by, soaking his clothes and his skin. He never moved, waiting with the patience born of a lifetime of survival. Biyoya would have his best trackers and sharpshooters concealed, and they would wait for him to make a move. Major Biyoya didn't want to go back to General Ekabela and admit he lost skilled soldiers to his prisoner. His escaped prisoner. That kind of thing would lose the major his hard-earned reputation as a ruthless interrogator.

    Jack's eyes were different, had always been different, and after Whitney had genetically enhanced him, his sight had become amazing. He didn't understand the workings, but he had the vision of an eagle. He didn't care how it was done, but he could see distances few others could conceive of. Out of the corner of his eye, movement to the left of his position caught his attention, the colors in bands of yellow and red.
    The sniper moved cautiously, keeping to the heavier foliage, so that Jack only caught glimpses of him. His spotter kept to the left, covering every step the sniper took as he examined the ground and surrounding trees.

    Jack began a slow move into a better position, but halted when he heard a feminine scream in the distance followed closely by a child's frightened cry. Jack jerked his head up, his body stiffening, sweat breaking out on his brow and trickling down into his eyes. Did Biyoya know his trigger? His one weakness? That was impossible. His mouth went dry and his heart slammed in his chest. What did Biyoya know about him ? Ken had been brutally tortured. There wasn't a square inch on his twin's body that hadn't been cut with tiny slices or stripped of skin. Could the interrogation have broken Ken?

    Jack shook his head, denying the thought, and wiped the sweat from his face, the movement slow and careful. Ken would never betray him, tortured or not . The knowledge was certain, as much a part of him as breathing. However he'd gotten his information, Biyoya had set the perfect trap. Jack had to respond.
    His past, buried deep where he never looked, wouldn't let him walk away. Trap or not, he had to react, take countermeasures. His gut knotted up and his lungs burned for air. He swore under his breath and put his eye to the scope again, determined to take out Biyoya's backup.

    The woman screamed again, this time the sound painful in the early morning dawn. The knots in his belly Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    hardened into something scary. Yeah. Biyoya knew, had information on him. He was classified and the information Biyoya possessed was in a classified file with a million red flags. So who the hell had sold him out ? Jack rubbed his eyes again to clear the sweat from them. Someone close to them set the brothers up . There was no other explanation.

    The screams increased in strength and duration. The child sobbed, begging for mercy. Jack cursed and jerked his head up, furious with himself, with his lack of ability to ignore it. "You're going to die here, Jack," he whispered aloud. "Because you're a damned fool." It didn't matter. He couldn't let it go. The past was bile in his throat, the door in his mind creaking open, the screams growing louder in his head.

    He leapt from the safety of his tree to another one, using the canopy to travel, relying on his skin and clothing to camouflage him. He moved fast, following Biyoya's trail into the darkened interior. The ribbon of road flowed below him, hacked out of the thick vegetation, pitted, mined, and trampled. It looked more like a strip of mud than an actual road. He followed it, using the trees and vines, moving fast to catch up with the main body of soldiers.

    He slipped into a tall tree right above the heads of the soldiers, settling in the foliage, lying flat along a branch. Somewhere behind him the sniper was coming, but he hadn't left a trail on the ground, and he would be difficult to spot, blending in as he did with the leaves and bark. A woman lay on the ground, clothes torn, a soldier bending over her, kicking at her as she cried helplessly. A small boy of about ten struggled against the men shoving him back and forth between them. There was terror in the child's eyes.

    There was no doubt in Jack's mind that