Read Online Spy Hard by Dana Marton - Free Book Online Page B

need regular periods of rest.
    With the rough terrain they would be lucky to cover ten miles a day, which meant three days there. He’d drop them off, then come back to camp. The fight could very well still be going. The compound had been strategically built; the Don’s men could easily dig themselves in and hold off a larger force for a good long time. Jase could pretend that he’d been captured by the enemy at the beginning and had just broken free, returning to rejoin the melee. He’d deny having seen Mochi and Melanie or that he had anything to do with their disappearance.
    Or, if the fight was over and Cristobal had won, Jase could slink into camp and ask the new boss to take him in, swear allegiance to the new guy. Then he could continue with his intelligence gathering. However it played out, he planned on finishing his mission and accomplishing what he’d come here to do.
    He pushed forward as briskly as he could safely do so, and the bugs dropped back after a while. Thank God for small mercies.
    He looked back periodically as he walked to make sure nobody fell behind. He needn’t have worried. Both Melanie and Mochi kept up. They knew what was at stake.
    He kept listening for noises indicating they were being followed. But neither his senses nor his instincts signaled danger, so after a while he relaxed. Then tensed again when he considered that as little ground as they’d covered so far, it might already be too much for Melanie.
    “How far along are you?” He found the question uncomfortable, but asked it anyway.
    “Eight months.”
    He winced. She didn’t look that far along. But what did he know about pregnant women, anyway? Absolutely nothing. And he would have been damned happy to keep things that way.
    Okay. All right. Not a problem. Three days, four at the most, and he would deliver her to the research station where she could be flown out in the next chopper that brought supplies. She would be fine. He’d leave Mochi there, too, and would come back for the kid later, after the battle was over and his position at camp was secure once again. Then he’d find the boy a suitable village.
    He ordered the first rest stop after forty minutes or so, way too early.
    “I can go longer,” she insisted, but she had both hands at her lower back, supporting the extra weight she carried.
    “How about I take that gun?” he offered, his motives not entirely altruistic.
    She hesitated a lot longer than he would have liked, but did hand the weapon over in the end, probably aware that he could have taken it away from her if he wanted to, anyway.
    “Even seasoned soldiers sit out the dark.” He put away the old pistol and pulled their canteens from his backpack, then handed them out. “Drink.”
    They wouldn’t eat at this stop. That could wait until morning.
    He checked their three days’ worth of food, enough to last them to their destination, to make sure no bugs had gotten into it. He planned on scavenging on his way back, to cut down on the weight he had to carry.
    When he checked everything to his satisfaction and found no problems, he picked up his own canteen and panned his flashlight around as he drank, scanning the immediate area. Glowing eyes reflected back the light here and there.
    Melanie pulled closer to him on the log they all shared, and he caught a whiff of her shampoo, something citrusy. “What are those?”
    “Mostly monkeys. You can tell a jaguar apart by the shape of his cat eyes.”
    “But big cats are fewer and fewer in the world’s jungles, right?”
    “Sure.” No need to share the story of him coming face-to-face with a tiger in the jungles of Sumatra on a night very much like this. He’d been saving a journalist the guerillas had taken hostage. No connection to his mission at the time whatsoever. Took a bullet in the leg for her, too. They still kept in touch. Audrey and her family—husband and kids—sent him a Christmas card every year.
    The need to protect the weak, to stand