Cold Day In Hell

COLD DAY IN HELL

By Jerrie Alexander

COPYRIGHT 2013 by Jerrie Alexander

Published by: Jerrie Alexander

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and the resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

Ty Castillo shook his boot and flicked a tarantula the size of his hand to the jungle floor. The arachnid crawled away uninjured, disappearing into the constantly undulating ground cover. Poor bastard was probably looking for relief from the heat.

His original orders had been to meet his Colombian contact in Bogota, pick up the necessary explosives, and then use them to blow up Manuel Ortega's drug-manufacturing compound.

His boss at Lost and Found, Inc. had taken this supposedly simple assignment to pay the rent. Ty was to slip in, obliterate the place, and then get the hell out. The plan had gone to hell when that contact, Ana Cisneros, failed to show.

She'd left him scrambling for supplies. Then the FBI had added the task of locating and rescuing her. After some digging, he'd learned she was being held at the very site he intended to wipe off the map.

A minimal number of guards were on duty tonight. The rest had bedded down for the night. Various birds, the low hum of insects, and nocturnal animals kept him company. Their occasional squeals and squawks provided him with good noise cover.

One of the guards spotted the fire Ty had purposely started in a small clearing four hundred meters from the compound. The warista yelled at the top of his lungs and fired two rounds into the air.

Half a dozen men ran from three buildings, some struggling to get their pants fastened. They barreled into the jungle with nothing to fight the fire except the AK-47s they carried over their shoulders.

Ty knelt behind a row of thick shrubs. A perimeter guard came into view. He continued his patrol, ignoring the shouting and the fire. The oversized gorilla at the back door hadn't budged either.

It would be a deadly mistake.

Ty waited five minutes to allow the men to reach the fire before he pushed the button on a radio frequency timer and blew the C-4 he'd placed on the diesel-powered generator. Flames shot into the night sky, and the compound fell into total darkness, leaving the remaining guards at a loss for which fire to fight first.

Chaos was a good thing.

He had a lot to accomplish and no time to waste. He remained hidden until the guard made another loop around the perimeter. Then he stepped out of the darkness directly behind the warista and easily snapped his neck. Ty dragged the body into the dense growth. Now to get inside to Ana Cisneros.

He ran across the open area. Hugging the exterior wall, he circled to the back to find Gorilla Guy's attention turned toward the blaze. By the time the man realized he was in danger, it was too late. Ty drove the blade of the SOG up through the diaphragm, through the lung, and into the man's heart. He retrieved his knife, wiped it clean on the man's shirt, and entered the building.

Thanks to his surveillance of the compound over the past few days, he knew where he'd find the woman. He moved through the large kitchen and headed up the stairs. He paused at the landing. Shit. Gorilla Guy's twin stood outside the hostage's door. Ty stepped into the hall and cleared his throat. Before the man turned, the SOG was airborne. It seated in the man's chest with a soft thump. The last person between the target and the woman's freedom slid to the floor.

Ty retrieved his knife, dragged the heavy body away from the door, and quickly moved to the figure next to the metal headboard. Ana Cisneros stood close to the window. Craning her neck to see outside, she was unaware he'd entered the room. With no time for introduction, he reached around and clamped his hand over her mouth.

As expected, he'd startled her. She fought, slinging her body back and forth like a wet dog. She kicked at him, so he whirled her around and jerked her body snug against his.

"Quit struggling. I'm here to help you," he whispered, trying to sound reassuring. No doubt, with the flames outside casting an eerie glow, he looked like an alien. A man wearing night-vision goggles, geared up with a pistol on his hip and another in a holster strapped to his thigh, and a rifle over his shoulder would scare most anybody. Not to mention the machete sheathed on his back and the SOG knife in his hand. "Do you understand?"

He took the slight movement of her head as a yes and relaxed the pressure off her lips. His reward? She bit his finger and pummeled his ribs with her free fist.

What the hell? The lamb had attacked the lion. He reapplied the pressure while keeping one eye on the door.

"Stop that," he commanded, impressed at her bravado.

Even through the lens on the night-vision goggles, he spotted a bruise on her cheek. Heat sizzled up his spine at the bastard who'd hit her.

He'd expected fear or panic to be oozing from her every pore, but didn't sense either emotion from her. Waves of anger rolled off her.

"Do you understand?" he repeated. She nodded slightly, relaxed her tense muscles, and then tried to kick him in the nuts.

He didn't have time to reason with her. And from what he'd seen so far, sweet-talking her was out. "I'm going to remove my hand. If you fight me, I'll tie and gag you. Got it?"

This time he got a full nod. The expression behind her eyes made him doubt her honesty.

"I don't have time to argue, so you'll have to trust that I'm the contact you were supposed to meet in Bogota." Cautiously, he lifted two fingers from her lips and waited to see if she complied.

"I know who you are," she hissed. "And you've ruined everything."

"Me? I think you've cornered the market on screw-ups." He quickly assessed her condition. Other than the bruise, she appeared to be unharmed. Long dark hair fell around her shoulders. She wore jeans and a T-shirt. All she needed was shoes, preferably a good pair of boots.

Damn, she was a little thing. Beautiful, bruised, and pissed. Protecting her as they crossed the sweltering jungle wasn't going to be easy. This woman was going to make the next few days a living hell.

"Get something on your feet. The rest of this place is going to blow soon, and I plan to be clear when it happens."

Her eyes went wide. "Did you make sure Ortega's on property?" Her tone hinted at panic.

"Haven't seen him. He—"

"I have to know." She curled her fingers around Ty's bicep. He ignored the holes her nails dug in his flesh. "Promise me that he'll die in the explosion."

That piece of information caught his curiosity and slowed him for a second. Under different circumstances...nope, he'd been tasked with bringing her out alive. He didn't have time to help her with whatever wrong she thought she needed to right.

"I'd advise against going barefoot, but with or without shoes, you're leaving with me."

Never taking her eyes off him, she jerked a pair of leather boots from under the bed and quickly pulled them on. Good. They were running out of time.

"You don't understand." Her voice dripped with anger.

"Let's go," he said, matching her tone. She didn't move. He shoved the goggles to his forehead and leaned down, inches from her face. This close, the bruise on her cheek was even more noticeable. She'd been treated like shit, and he hated to add to her troubles, but time was not their friend.

"You'll walk, or I'll haul your ass out of here like a sack of potatoes."

She set her jaw and didn't budge, so he sheathed the knife, slipped the suppressed .22 from the holster strapped to his thigh, and did what any smart man would've done. He tossed her over his shoulder firefighter style. She was light as a feather. He'd bet she didn't weigh much more than his backpack.

"Oh. Hell. No." She squirmed, her feet kicking the air. "You are not carrying me anywhere."

He stopped at the door, checking his watch to ensure he wouldn't run into one of the perimeter guards.

"Were you not listening?" He reached up and patted her on the leg. "This entire compound is about to disappear from the face of the earth. And you want to stay?"

"Wait," she muttered.

"No talking."

"Put me down. We'll move faster." She sounded defeated, but had she really surrendered?

Ty glanced at her bottom, which currently rested next to his head. It was a great ass but not much of a gauge to use when testing for the truth. "If you run, I'll catch you. Traveling hogtied and slung over my shoulder will get old fast. At least for you."

"I get it," she spit the words out as if they tasted bitter.

He slid her off his shoulder. As soon as her feet were on the floor, he shoved the goggles into place. "Stay close."

An inappropriate shiver shot up his spine when her fingers gripped his shirt.

She nodded toward the jungle. "I hope you know what you're getting us into."

"I do." He ignored that she doubted his ability. Once outside, they hugged the wall, but a perimeter guard spotted them. He opened his mouth but was silenced by a bullet from the suppressed .22. The man fell right on the path. Time was the bigger enemy, so Ty dragged the body close to the house and left him.

He glanced down and found the woman's gaze locked on his face. One quick nod from him, and they sprinted across the open space and into the dense cover of jungle.

The ferns, grasses, small plants, and dead matter provided the perfect cover for hungry creatures of all species. He pushed hard but watched for movement on every leaf. No way was he letting her get bitten, stung or eaten. Losing her wasn't an option.

A sound coming from behind stopped him. He recognized the steady swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of a machete. Someone was coming fast. He'd hoped they would have more time, but had expected the guards to be hunting the person who'd annihilated their drug compound.

Ty spun to face her and placed his finger to her lips. Silently, he pulled her into the thick bush. A quick scan of the surroundings didn't reveal any obvious hazards. Leaving her alone was dangerous but a calculated risk he had to take. If he wound up in hand-to-hand combat with more than a couple of men, protecting her would be difficult at best. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Stay here."

"I can't see." She tightened her grip on his arm.

"Right now they're focused on me. I can fix this easier and faster without you along." He slipped his Beretta 9 mil into her hand, hoping it would give her a measure of security. "Do you know how to use this?"

"Probably better than you."

Any other situation and he'd have laughed at her assumption that she could out-shoot him. Now wasn't the time. He wrapped the fingers of her free hand around a small tree limb. "Listen to the sounds around you and shoot if you have to. I'll identify myself when I get back."

"Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere." She stood perfectly still. Even through the goggles, he saw determination in the way she held her head. The lady had guts.

Ty moved silently in the direction of the rhythmic sound of the swinging machete. Whoever it was, he was hacking at vines, widening the path and getting closer.

The absence of the usual jungle noises was almost startling. The night was as still as a church during prayer. Through the trees, a single flashlight beam caught his eye. Moving quickly and soundlessly, Ty looped around behind the man. Just as Ty had expected, it was one of the guards he'd monitored over the past few days. Stupid to have come alone.

One silent shot from his suppressed .22, and the warista crumpled like a piece of wet paper. Ty picked up the man's AK-47 and took it with him. He saw no advantage in leaving it behind.

He backtracked to Ana. She stood right where he'd left her. Judging from the way she held the gun, she'd told the truth and knew how to handle one. "I'm coming in right behind you."

Lowering the Beretta, she turned toward the sound of his voice. "Who was it?"

"One of Ortega's men," he said, closing his hand over hers and relieving her of the weapon.

"You killed him?"

"Yeah. We have to move."

He took her hand in his, slid his arm behind his back, and headed out. She stayed right with him, allowing them to move fast. The lady might have been small in stature, but she had the stamina of a soldier, which was going to prove to be an asset. Over the next few days, she'd need to be strong.

Once they reached the small hideaway he'd carved out, she could rest until daylight. First thing in the morning, they'd start across the thickest and roughest terrain of their journey.