“Are you sure about this? Can’t we just pay off the pilot?” Paige asked.
“We have to be sure he won’t have a chance to go blabbing to somebody,” Jay insisted. “Seth’s flight doesn’t leave until after we’re supposed to leave for our tour.”
“Paige, you can handle this.” Damian’s words of confidence gave her the push she needed. She also couldn’t deny the feeling of comfort she had felt come over her when Seth had offered a prayer before they all left their room. Amazingly enough, that feeling had remained with her.
She drew a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”
“You won’t need luck.” Damian gave her a cocky grin. “But good luck anyway.”
Paige rolled her eyes and felt some of her nerves fade. She found it interesting how protective Damian could be, but when the situation called for it, he could put that aside and give her the courage and support she needed.
She followed the path to where the helicopters were parked, a pilot leaning over an open panel as he went about his preflight check.
“Excuse me,” Paige said. “Do you speak English?”
“Sí, señorita. Un poco.” He paused as though realizing he had just responded in the wrong language. He held up his thumb and forefinger, holding them slightly apart. “A little.”
“My boyfriend said I should meet him here.”
“Ah. Sí, sí.” He nodded understanding.
“Have you seen him?”
He looked confused now, like he was trying to decipher her words. He motioned her to the side, indicating for her to wait a short distance from the helicopter.
She pretended not to understand. “Are you sure you don’t know where my boyfriend is? He was supposed to be here already.”
Again, he motioned her to the side. When she ignored him a second time, he took her by the arm and guided her to a waiting area.
Paige nodded, pretending she just now understood. As soon as the man turned around, Damian appeared a short distance away and started heading toward them. He called out and lifted a hand in greeting.
The man turned, his focus now on Damian, and Jay rushed at him from behind. The helicopter hid them from view from anyone who might be standing at the airport, but the blow to the back of his head, followed by the administration of a sedative sent him to the ground.
Damian continued forward like he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
“What are we going to do with him?” Paige asked as soon as Damian had reached her.
“We’re taking him with us.”
“What? Why?”
“If we leave him here, there’s too great a chance someone will find him or he’ll raise the alarm when he wakes up. The sedative will only keep him out for an hour or so.”
“How can we bring him with us?” Paige asked as Jay and Damian loaded him into one of the backseats. “This helicopter is only intended for six people.”
“Don’t worry. We have a plan.” Damian buckled the man in and secured his hands while Jay checked out the helicopter. As soon as he completed his preflight check, the two men retrieved something from the woods. Paige thought they were just gathering their belongings, which they had stashed before she had approached the pilot, but her eyebrows lifted when she saw they were loading gas cans as well as their luggage.
“Is that the extra gas you guys were talking about?”
“Yeah. We can’t make it all the way to Maracaibo without refueling. Those will save us from having to stop at some airport and explain why we’re flying a helicopter that doesn’t belong to us.” Damian waved Paige toward the seat beside the unconscious pilot. “Grab a seat and strap in.”
Paige did as she was told. Damian closed her door and stepped out to talk to Jay. After a quick discussion, Jay climbed into the pilot seat, and Damian took the seat beside him.
Jay handed a coil of rope to Paige. “Can you tie three knots at the end of this? Each knot needs to be about a foot apart.”
“Sure.”
Jay shifted his attention back to Damian. “What’s the time?”
“Two minutes until eleven.”
“Get on the radio and clear us with the tower.”
Damian put on the headset and flipped the switch to activate the radio. He spoke in Spanish, and Paige noticed the way he disguised his voice, presumably to make him sound more like their pilot.
Jay started the engine, and within a few minutes, they were lifting off the ground.
Paige’s stomach leapt into her throat as they lifted off. The noise from the engine was much louder than she’d expected, making communication difficult, if not impossible.
Jay started toward Angel Falls, the direction everyone on the ground would expect them to go. Once they were clear of the immediate area, he veered off to the east.
After twenty minutes or so, Jay hovered over a wide grassy area not far from the river’s edge. She could see the two men in front of her pointing and discussing something between themselves. They apparently came to an agreement when Damian nodded and Jay took the helicopter down to the ground.
Paige looked around, searching for the other members of the Saint Squad. No one was in sight.
As soon as they touched down, Damian climbed out and unbuckled the pilot from his seat. To her surprise, he pulled him out of the helicopter and settled him in the shade of a small tree. After he untied the man’s hands, Damian ran back to the helicopter and took his seat once more.
“You’re just going to leave him there?” Paige asked, leaning forward and raising her voice to be heard.
“He’ll be fine. He can follow the river to get back to the village. It just may take him a day or two.”
“Shouldn’t we leave him some food or something?”
Jay shook his head. “There’s plenty of fruit around. How do you think Seth and I managed to make it without any rations? Personally, I hope I never see another pineapple again.”
The moment Damian strapped himself back in, Jay lifted off, called out some coordinates, and headed toward the flat-topped mountains in the distance.
Not sure what to think of her first helicopter ride, Paige tried to settle back and enjoy the view.
* * *
Rodrigo walked through the clearing, leaning down to pick up a piece of camouflage fabric. Palm fronts blanketed the area where the Navy SEALs had supposedly been standing, and several coconuts lay split open by automatic weapons fire.
Decoys. The men sent to kill the SEALs had shot decoys.
Now he had to face the unsettling question of how the intended targets had known to create the illusion that they had been killed. Did Andrea Kemper use them as a way to gain Morenta’s trust and ultimately a way to access his financial records, or were these men really that lucky?
Regardless of the answer, he knew what he had to do. The Saint Squad had to be found. And then they had to die.
* * *
“Something must have happened to them,” Tristan said.
“Maybe they found another cliff they couldn’t scale,” Brent suggested.
“Are we going to go?” Tristan asked. He lifted a section of the vine rope. For days they had braided long sections together, being careful to intermingle where one began and another one ended so they could extend the length.
“It’s time we do something,” Quinn insisted. “I can’t sit here any longer.”
Brent turned and eyed Quinn. “Has anyone ever told you that you need to learn some patience?”
“Sure. My wife, my mom, my sisters, Tristan.”
“Have you ever thought about listening to them?”
Quinn considered the question, then shook his head. “No, not really.”
“All right, Quinn. Are you volunteering to go first?” Brent asked.
“Definitely. I’m the shortest of everyone. If I can make it down, you guys should have it easy.”
“Provided those stitches hold,” Brent said, motioning to Tristan’s arm.
“He’s fine,” Quinn insisted.
“He’s right. I’ll be fine.”
“All right.” Brent secured one end of the vine rope to a tree. “Put on that harness you made. We’ll have you use both ropes as far as they’ll go. That way if the vine one doesn’t hold, you’ve still got something to hang on to.”
Quinn did as Brent suggested and tugged on both ropes to test their strength.
Brent watched him back to the edge of the cliff and waited for him to give the final go-ahead. His own impatience mirroring Quinn’s, Brent fought his doubts and nodded his approval. “We’ll talk you down to that ledge.”
“I’ve got this,” Quinn insisted. He tugged one more time on the rope Jay and Seth had used three days earlier, then took his first step off the edge, his weight falling backward as he started his slow and steady descent.
Brent watched him reach the narrow outcropping, where Quinn took advantage of the opportunity to rest.
Now was the time for the test. Rather than rappelling, Quinn would have to use the ropes as a safety harness and begin free-climbing down the cliff. He made the first few feet without any trouble, though Brent could see the way he had to grope and search to find the hand- and footholds since he had no one to guide him from below.
“If you don’t think you can make it without help, I can come down to the ledge.”
“I’m okay so far.” Quinn came to the end of the rope, and Brent sensed his reluctance when he let go of it and was forced to rely entirely on the braided vines.
He felt his own muscles tensing as he watched Quinn shift from one side of the narrow ledge to the other in search of more handholds. When he reached the section Seth had warned them about, the vine supporting a good part of his weight, Brent saw Quinn’s foot slip on the rock just below him. The surface was smooth as glass and slick with last night’s rain.
“Reach six inches to your left. I see a break in the rock.” Brent continued to help guide him the best he could from above. Adrenaline pumped through him as Quinn reached the point where he would have to trust the rope rather than rely on himself to free-climb.
Quinn’s foot slipped, and Brent saw the first sign of another problem. The rope Quinn had trusted had been rubbing up against the protruding ledge, and the vines had cut away and were fraying badly. “Hold on, Quinn! The vines are fraying.”
Brent cursed himself for letting Quinn go first. He should have led the way and made sure it was safe for the rest of his men. Quinn fought to regain his previous position, gripping the narrow grooves tighter.
The vines continued to fray, Quinn struggling for a solid hold. Brent saw his dilemma and struggled for the right answer. Quinn could either trust the rope to hold his weight despite the weakening integrity or cling to the rock, knowing he had nowhere to go. With so few hand- and footholds, Brent doubted he would be able to get back up by himself.
Determined to find a third option, Brent grabbed the rope. “I’m going down to help him climb back up. Tristan, guide me to him.”
He hadn’t yet taken that first step when he heard the low rumble of an aircraft. Brent identified it as a helicopter without looking, and a new sense of uneasiness came over him. What had he been thinking? He should have trusted Seth. Or more precisely, he shouldn’t have let any of his men trust the wrong rope.
Images of bullets spraying from the helicopter several nights ago drove home how vulnerable they all were at the moment, especially Quinn.
Tristan grabbed his assault rifle and handed another one to Brent. They all knew they were outmatched if this helicopter was loaded with armed men.
Clearly aware of the possible threat, Quinn struggled to climb back up. He tried to find purchase with his right foot without success. A second attempt caused his other foot to slip, his arms and fingers tensing as he hung on for dear life.
The helicopter drew closer, the downdraft from the rotors making it even more challenging to hold on as it circled above them.
Torn between wanting to climb down to help Quinn and facing the new threat, Brent lifted his weapon and took aim. If someone started shooting, he wasn’t going to be able to help Quinn if he was hanging on to a rope too.
He saw the helicopter circle three times before coming to hover over them. A rope dropped, dangling out the open door of the helicopter above, three knots tied at the bottom. Code three. It was a signal from his teammates. They had come to take them home.
Brent signaled for the helicopter to come closer, and he reached for the rope. As soon as he had it firmly in his grip, he tied the rope around him and used hand signals to communicate his intent. He waited for the weightless sensation to come over him when the helicopter lifted up again, this time with him dangling from the rope below.
His teammates lowered him until he was even with Quinn. Brent shouted to Quinn over the noise of the rotors, but he wasn’t sure he could be heard. As soon as he was close enough, he hooked his hand under Quinn’s arm.
Knowing his grip was the only thing standing between Quinn and a thirty-five-foot drop, Brent tried to position himself so Quinn could also grab the rope.
The helicopter lifted them both until they were over the clearing at the top of the cliff. Their feet touched the ground, and they both collapsed onto it.
Brent looked up again, expecting to see Seth or Jay in the open door. When he saw Damian’s face, he wondered if perhaps his impression to leave the new kid behind wasn’t so much for his protection as it was for theirs.