So Peter is already on top of this. “Yes, it seems like it.” My voice is even, though anger boils within me. “Needless to say, we’re scrapping the mission. When are we getting picked up?”

“The plane is on its way. It should be there in a few hours. I sent Goldberg along in case you could use a doctor.”

“Good thinking. We’ll be waiting. How is Nora?”

There is a brief moment of silence. “She’s better now that she knows you’re alive. She wanted to fly out there as soon as she heard.”

“You didn’t let her, though.” It’s a statement, not a question. Peter knows better than to fuck up like that.

“No, of course not. Do you wish to see her? I may be able to set up a video connection with the hospital.”

“Yes, please set it up.” What I really want is to see her and hold her in person, but the video will have to do for now. “In the meantime, I’m going to check on Lucas and the others.”

Because of the bulky cast on my arm, it’s a struggle to put on the clothes the nurse brings me. The pants go on without any issues, but I end up having to rip out the left sleeve to get the cast through the armhole. My ribs hurt like hell, and every movement requires tremendous effort as my body wants nothing more than to lie back down on the bed and rest. I persist, though, and after a few tries, finally succeed in clothing myself.

Thankfully, walking is easier. I can maintain a regular stride. As I exit the room, I see the soldiers Sharipov mentioned earlier. There are five of them, all dressed in army fatigues and toting Uzis. Seeing me emerge into the hallway, they silently fall into step behind me, following me as I head over to the Intensive Care Unit. Their expressionless faces make me wonder if they’re there to protect me or to protect others from me. I can’t imagine the Uzbekistani government is thrilled to have an illegal arms dealer in their civilian hospital.

Lucas is not there, so I check on the others first. As Sharipov told me, they are all badly burned, with bandages covering most of their bodies. They’re also heavily sedated. I make a mental note to transfer a huge bonus into each of their bank accounts to compensate them for this, and to have them seen by the best plastic surgeons. These men knew the risks when they came to work for me, but I still want to make sure they’re taken care of.

“Where is the fourth man?” I ask one of the soldiers accompanying me, and he directs me to another room.

When I get there, I see that Lucas is asleep. He doesn’t look nearly as bad as the others, which is a relief. He’ll be able to return with me to Colombia once the plane arrives, whereas the burned men will have to stay here for at least a few more days.