I watched as the four-wheeler disappeared down a trail into the jungle, then I slipped out of my spot and jogged back to the group.

I said, “Two shelters and three narcos. But one of the narcos just headed out with a shipment on a four-wheeler.”

“Describe the shelters,” Vern said.

“Wooden shacks. One is fifteen feet square, the other is a little bigger.”

“Definitely a processing and shipment hub. They use the four-wheelers to move the drugs across the border. They have a network of trails they’ve carved through the jungle over the years.”

According to my GPS, which went in and out of service, we were currently less than seven miles from the Brazilian border.

“I would expect there to be more than just a few soldiers guarding it,” Vern continued. “There have to be sentries out somewhere. You’re sure there are only two of them?”

“That’s all I saw.”

“Could there be others inside the shacks?”

“Maybe, but doubtful.”

“Why?”

“The vibe felt pretty relaxed. Like the end of the workday. I’d be willing to bet there isn’t much product, if any, left to protect.”

“You think Gina is being held in one of the shacks?”

“Fifty-fifty.”

He mulled this over for a moment, then he slammed a sleeve of bullets into the semiautomatic he was holding. “Then what are we waiting for?”

I was leaning toward a more tactical nighttime mission, but if Gina was being held here, they could move her at any moment. Or the third narco could return.

Also, I’m very impatient.

“Nothing,” I said.

I was confident the ex-soldier and I could manage two narcos, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a third gun. I glanced at Juan Pablo and Carlos. They were just kids. There was no way I was risking their lives. And although I didn’t like the prospect of leaving little Camila an orphan, I nodded at Diego and said, “We need you on this.”

He blew out his chubby cheeks and then said, “Okay.”

≈

Our best bet was to hit them hard and fast. And with overwhelming force. I swapped out the pistol for a shotgun and loaded five rounds.

The three of us crept back to my scouting spot behind a thicket of vegetation. The two soldiers were sitting side by side, both smoking cigarettes. They were holding cards in their hands, and their automatic rifles were leaning against their chairs.

They were what you might call sitting ducks.

“On three,” I said.

After counting off, I shot forward through the remaining two feet of vegetation and brought the shotgun up. The narcos didn’t notice me until I was fifteen feet away from them. The one closest to me threw down his cards and went for his rifle.

I pulled the trigger on the shotgun.