I leaned down and inspected the impressions. They were different from the other footprints that we’d seen.

These had come from bare feet.

We followed them for one hundred yards and then saw it. It was buried in the trunk of a tree that stood not far from a flowing river.

A spear.

≈

“I will come back for you,” Diego told Camila, kissing his thumb and touching her nose with it. “I promise.”

“And if he dies, I’ll come back for you,” I told her.

I don’t think Diego appreciated my humor. He cut his eyes at me, then hung Camila from the branch of a nearby tree.

Rix gave her a quick tickle on her tummy and then the three of us huddled up.

Rix said, “From the tracks, it looks like a group was surrounded by a bunch of villagers.”

Diego nodded at the beginnings of a steep incline and said, “Their village is probably on top of the hill.”

I clicked off the safety on my rifle. Rix and Diego did the same.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Diego closed his eyes and muttered something in Spanish.

“What did you just say?”

“I make prayer we no get eaten.”

“Amen to that.”

≈

Fifteen minutes later, the three of us were crouched behind the seven-foot-wide trunk of an enormous tree. A slight incline led from here to the top of a small ridge.

“I’ll do a recon,” Rix said.

I shook him off. “No, I got it.”

“You barely made it up the hill,” the ex–SAS soldier responded.

“I’ve got it,” I said, ending the conversation.

I pulled off my pack and slid out a pair of binoculars. I lowered myself to the leaf-strewn jungle floor and crawled to a thick patch of vegetation. There was a good chance I was going to get bitten by something or was smack-dab in the middle of some poisonous plants, but I didn’t care. I army-crawled up the ten-foot embankment and peeked over the edge.

Not thirty feet from where I lay were the beginnings of a sprawling village and easily sixty men, women, and children.

I expected them to be nude or crudely dressed, but the villagers were clad in brightly colored knitted clothes. The houses were wooden—mahogany from the looks of it—and beautifully built.

Another group had gathered at the far edge of the village, but they were fifty yards away, and I couldn’t make out much.

I pulled up the binoculars and focused. The villagers in this group were dressed differently than the others. They had war paint on their faces, multicolored strings tied around their biceps, and were clad in low-hanging red loincloths.

Behind them were three Caucasian men, four soldiers, and one woman.

Gina.

I’d found her.

≈

I retreated back to the large tree.

I said, “She’s here.”

Diego smiled, and Rix gave me knuckles.

“How does she look?” Rix asked.

“Pretty banged up.”