Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise
- By Matt Hilton
- About the Publisher
I nodded at his words. Anything I’d done for his country was a mere consequence of my attempt at finding Rickard, but both Nunez and Charles seemed pleased by the result. We’d already discussed what had befallen Cesar Calle, and how Alvaro Silva had now doubled the size of his empire. But the Junglas seemed unconcerned by that. The way they saw it was that one enemy of the country would be easier to bring down than two, and they had enough evidence to destroy him through what they’d witnessed. We wouldn’t enter the equation: Nunez and Charles were to receive backdated orders to conduct CTR—close target reconnaissance—of Calle’s activities. The order was arranged between Walter and a local contact with DET, Colombia’s own intelligence-gathering community, and the Junglas would report their findings. The fact that they witnessed the massacre of Cesar Calle and all his people was enough that a strike force was already being assembled to take down Organizacion Halcón de Roja.
Charles placed his fists on his hips as he turned to watch the approaching chopper. He had a distant look in his eye, as though perhaps he wanted to jump on board and leave the troubles of Colombia behind him to go back to the home of his father. Even with Calle and Silva out of the picture, there were still many problems plaguing this country, but there was nothing to say that anywhere else was any less troubled. The USA and Florida in particular, I thought, could be witnessing terrible happenings before long.
The speck had grown into a UH–72A Lakota helicopter. The chopper swept in, bending the tops of trees below us and sending up a vortex of dust and loose foliage. Shielding our eyes, we moved forward, leaving the Junglas standing next to their Jeep. I wondered if I’d see either of them again, but decided not in this lifetime. The helicopter was a light utility transporter with room for two crew and six passengers. It didn’t feel very spacious when I followed Rink and Harvey inside, but that’s what comes of traveling with two large friends.