Milton knew that he would have to proceed carefully. The Scandinavian was definitely armed, with, at the very least, a pistol. Milton thought it likely that he would also have something with a little more pop; the security detail had been toting shotguns and automatic rifles, too. La Bruja also had her pistol, meaning that he would be at a disadvantage if it was not for the fact that he knew where they were and they, as far as he could tell, did not know that he was there.

He stayed low, shuffling forward a step or two until there was just a single, thick bush between him and the clear margin of grass that ran down to the water’s edge. The voices were nearer now and, as he waited with his hands wrapped around the branch, Milton thought he could see movement coming his way through the gloom.

He lowered the branch to just above waist height and waited another beat, and then another, until the shadowy figures were close enough for him to be able to see them in the moonlight. Eidur was leading the way, his left hand on the guideline and his right hand reached behind him so that his hand could grip La Bruja by the arm.

Milton surged upwards, taking two steps toward the big man and, as he did so, beginning his swing. Eidur was faster than Milton would have given him credit for, and as the thick end of the club came towards his head, he dropped the line and managed to raise his arm just enough to deflect the blow. Instead of landing flush against his chin, the end of the branch cracked against his scalp. The big man’s knees buckled and he toppled to the side, falling into the stream with a splash.

La Bruja had her pistol in her right hand but had no time to raise it and take aim before Milton slammed the branch into her shoulder on the backswing. She grunted in pain, but did not drop the weapon; Milton closed the distance on her in two loping strides, grabbed her right wrist with his left hand, and forced the gun away from them both. He continued the movement, twisting the gun around him to the right as he faced away from the direction that she was facing. He levered her arm over his shoulder and yanked down, throwing her over his shoulder at the same time as he liberated the gun from her grip.

She slammed down into the water. Milton stepped back and pivoted, covering them both with her gun.

La Bruja looked up at him, her face twisted with anger and pain.

“You did this?” she said.

Milton had no interest in a discussion. The Colombian army were somewhere to the south, and if he had been able to find the guideline, then they would be able to find it, too.