Milton stood up, extended his arm and clotheslined the man, catching him between his throat and sternum with enough force that his legs flew forward as he was sent down onto his back. The man had been taken completely by surprise and had no defence as Milton dropped down onto him and knocked him out with a stiff short-armed right jab. His head jerked around and he lay still.

Milton moved with quick and practiced efficiency. He reached for the man’s holster and found that it was empty. His hands were empty, too. Milton patted the ground in search of a weapon, with no luck. He would have preferred to arm himself with the Springfield or this man’s pistol, but it was dark and the grasses were thick, and he didn’t have the luxury of time to search.

He saw muzzle flash from the direction of the camp, and then heard the corresponding rattle of gunfire. It was the prompt he needed. He left the narco where he lay, put the camp to his back and pushed on to the north.

* * *

Björn found the little creek that ran through the rainforest and, at La Bruja’s instruction, followed it upstream.

“Who was that?” she said to him.

“Soldiers,” Björn replied. “Cartels aren’t equipped like that.”

“How did they find us?”

“I’d like to know that, too.”

They continued to follow the line of the creek until they came to a large rocky outcrop that reached up above their heads. It loomed as a shadow, too dark for Björn to make out any detail, too dark for him to see the thick carpet of moss that had grown over it as he probed with his hands for the start of the rope that would help guide them out. He patted and poked the damp lichen until his fingertips alighted on the cold metal hoop that had been fixed to the rock; he traced his way around the circle until he felt the rough fibres. He placed it in his palm and, with his other hand anchoring La Bruja’s elbow, he started to follow it.

“This goes to the river?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s half a mile from here.”

“And then?”

“There’s a boat.”

Björn shook his head, although he didn’t say anything. They weren’t going to take a boat. It would be too noisy and if, as he suspected, the army had deployed from the air, they would be sitting ducks for any chopper that was in the area. It would make more sense to stay in the rainforest, to get north and then turn with the river. He pictured the terrain: it was dense jungle for hundreds of miles in all directions. If they could get away from the immediate vicinity, they would be impossible to find.

“You think it was Smith?” La Bruja said.