Madidi National Park is the largest and most popular national park in all Bolivia. When your average tourist wants a taste of the rainforest in Bolivia, Madidi is their destination. Because it’s a national park, they presumably have several ranger stations, maintained trails, and access points and can deploy a search-and-rescue team much easier. But from what I’d read on the internet, outside of some small tourism in Riberalta, the rainforest in northern Bolivia was a no-man’s-land.

Vern continued: “I checked with the hospital in Riberalta and a few others up north, in case Gina had shown up, but again, she hadn’t.”

These were all the calls I would have made if I hadn’t been stuck on a plane all day. My confidence in Vern was growing by the second. “Did you by chance get in touch with the World Health Organization?”

“I did. They hadn’t heard from her since they left a year earlier.”

“They offer any assistance?”

“Since she’s no longer on their payroll, not a whole lot they can do, and even if she were, they’d probably contact the Bolivian Army and leave it up to them. There’s a slim chance they would put together a rescue team themselves, but it would take time.”

“And we aren’t contacting the Bolivian Army because?”

“Because in my experience they are unreliable and corrupt, and it would be a waste of time.”

I considered asking him about Military Mustache but decided against it. I did say, “So what you’re saying is that it’s up to us?”

“Correct.”

He pulled an orange Gatorade from behind his seat and took a drink, then he said, “I’ve hired a tracker I’ve worked with before named Diego. He’s a jungle guide in Riberalta and knows the Pando jungle as well as anyone. Better yet, he knows the village where Gina was living.”

“He’s been there?”

“Yeah, a few times.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Diego is putting together a team and supplies,” Vern continued. “Everything should be ready to rock by tomorrow morning. Tibióno is a day by boat up the Río Orthon from Riberalta. If all goes according to plan, we should get there before dusk tomorrow.”

That was later than I would have hoped, but I suppose I couldn’t just expect to teleport to the middle of the Amazon jungle.

“And then?”

“We track them. Or Diego does.”

I’d tracked serial killers across the entire United States, but I didn’t know the first thing about tracking in the wilderness.

“And if we do find them?” I asked. “I mean, at this point, we’re presuming they’re narcos.”

“Yeah, Garret played the recording for me.”

I had sent a recording of Gina’s voicemail to Paul Garret. Evidently, he’d played it for Vern.