“I had a vision about a man planting something in the sand that killed thousands of people. That’s the reason I’m here in this jungle instead of back in Denver. The only reason.” She swallowed and pressed on, hot in the neck now. “Did you know that building is built on an old mission site? Missionaries used to live there.”

She waited for a response. She didn’t get one.

“If there is a bomb . . . I mean like a nuclear bomb, it would make sense that he’s planning on using it against the United States, right? You think that’s possible?”

Casius turned and studied her for a long moment. “No,” he said. “The facility is a cocaine processing plant. He’s a drug runner. I think nuclear weapons are a bit beyond his scope.”

“You may be a pretty resourceful killer, but you’re not listening to me, are you? I saw this man in my dreams and now I’ve met him personally. That means nothing to you?”

“You can’t actually expect me to believe you were drawn to the jungle to save mankind from some diabolical plot to detonate a nuclear weapon on U.S. soil.” He looked back at her and forced a smile. “You don’t find that just a bit fantastic?”

“Yes,” Sherry said. “I do. But it doesn’t change the fact that every time I close these eyes this Arab keeps popping back onto the stage and planting his bomb.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what. As it turns out, I’m going back into that jungle to kill that Arab of yours. Maybe that will stop him from popping into your mind.”

“That’s insane. You’ll never make it.”

“Isn’t that what you want? To stop him?”

How could he go back in there knowing they would be waiting for him? Could God use an assassin? No, she didn’t think so. Then she knew what she had to do and she said it without thinking.

“You have to get Father Petrus out. I have to go with you.”

“That’s out of the question.”

“Father Petrus—”

“I’ll get the priest. But you’re not coming.”

“It’s me, not you who—” Sherry pulled up short, realizing how stupid it was all sounding.

“Who has been guided by visions?” he finished for her. “Trust me, I’m guided by my own reasons. They would make your head spin.”

“Killing never solved anything,” she said. “My parents were killed by men like you.”

The revelation took the wind out of him. It was fifteen minutes of silence before they spoke again.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” he said.

“It’s okay.”

It was the way that he said, “I’m sorry,” that made her think a good man might be hiding under that brutal skin. A lump came to her throat and she wasn’t sure why.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE