Course of Action: The Rescue: Jaguar Night / Amazon Gold

Chapter 5

They were in trouble. Josh estimated the main camp of Duarte’s soldiers, who had gotten a good night’s sleep, unlike them, was five miles behind. No matter how much heart Aly had, they’d never outrun these drug soldiers. He couldn’t fault or blame her for her lack of physical strength. It wasn’t that she was a woman, because he knew female Recon Marines who could have easily hit a pace akin to his and run him into the ground. The nature of Aly’s job wasn’t physical and that was their Achilles’ heel.

To compensate, Josh used every trick he knew to make their movement through the soft, bare ground beneath the canopy a problem to follow. The best use of a stream was to be in it where they would lose the tracks. But staying in water for an hour made a person’s feet waterlogged and blisters would begin to form. His feet had thick calluses from years of being out in the badlands of Afghanistan, but Aly’s feet were probably without any protection at all. If she got blisters, she’d be in constant pain. He made it a priority to haul her boots off her by midday when they took a rest and look at them.

Because of the triple canopy, the Amazon basin was fairly clear of obstacle, brush and plants. Sunshine rarely reached the jungle floor so it was easier for them to move with speed. Josh knew the drug soldiers tracking them were toughened men, usually ex-soldiers or hired mercenaries with a black-ops background. These men could haul ass and move out and make nearly fifty miles in a day even with a heavy ruck. They had the hardened, muscular body to do it. So did he. But Aly didn’t. He heard her becoming winded and slowed a little. She was game. His heart opened to her. Most of all, Josh didn’t want her captured. It hardened his resolve to keep her safe and protected.

When had he started falling for this woman? How the hell had it happened? She was a package, an objective, an op. Not someone to get emotionally entangled with. And yet, he had. Cursing mentally, Josh knew when it had happened: when he’d seen her photo. And then, hearing the father tell him of the life-changing accident, Aly the only survivor. He’d grown up on a working cattle ranch in Texas. Women on those ranches were like Aly. They were tough, they didn’t whine, they just dug in and did what had to be done without complaining. There was so much he didn’t know about her. So much he wanted to know.

* * *

Aly was relieved when she felt Josh slow down. It meant a break. Her throat ached and she was sure that her larynx was, indeed, injured. If she got out of this alive, she hoped she wouldn’t need surgery. As a nurse, she hated surgery, feared it. So much could go wrong. Not every nurse felt that way, but she did, memories of her weeks in casts in the hospital brutal reminders along with the pain.

She felt Josh grip her hand and take it from his belt. His hand was warm and sweaty, but steadying as she curled her fingers around his.

There was another of those huge trees and he led her behind the wall of wooden wings. She was grateful these trees were everywhere. The only problem with them for her was their roots, which always snaked out across the surface some thirty or forty feet from the trunk. And leaves that had fallen earlier would cover up the thin root and she’d trip over it. Aly had lost count of how many times she’d tripped. Every time, Josh would stop and catch her before she fell.

So far, Josh had been there for her. Unlike her father. Unlike the man she’d fallen in love with who’d betrayed her... When she’d found out Dr. Stephen McKeon was married and had two children, her world had been torn apart. Men lied.

“We can take a short break,” Josh said, listening to the jungle sounds around him. So far, they were normal. That meant the men hunting them weren’t close. Not yet. But it would happen sooner or later.

Aly sat, her face glistening with sweat, strands of her ginger-colored hair sticking to her temples and cheeks. She gave him a shake of her head.

“You look like this is a breeze,” she muttered.

Josh grinned and began unlacing her combat boot. Her boot was damp between his hands. “It’s called conditioning. Don’t worry, you’re doing okay. I want to check your feet out this morning. We’ve been in water for two days straight. I worry about blisters.” He pulled the boot off. Her sock was damp.

“They’re okay,” she said, trying to pull her foot out of his hand. “Really, Josh, they’re fine....”

Scowling, he pulled off her sock. The heel of her sock was bloodred. “Aly, why didn’t you say something?” he demanded, giving her a pleading look. Gently turning her foot, he noticed a huge blister had developed and then ripped open on the back of her heel. Her skin was wrinkled, ripe for them.

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