The Romanov Ransom

72

The reflection of the moonlight cast a blue glow on the thick vegetation — a cruel illusion of coolness in a jungle that refused to let go of the day’s heat. Sam wiped the sweat from his brow before it dripped into his eyes, then leaned into the wall, listening. The air vibrated with the sound of a million insects. Beyond that, nothing. Using the barrel of his gun, he nudged the leaves aside until he had a view of the trail. Nothing moved. He heard Remi shifting on the wall above. “Anything?” he whispered.

“No — wait. Movement. Two o’clock.”

Sam shifted his gaze to the right, searching until he saw the leaves move just off the trail. He tracked it with his sights, finger pressing on the trigger, waiting… waiting… A head popped up. He fired. The man fell back. Suddenly, someone jumped out on the opposite side, muzzle blast lighting up as he sprayed the walls with gunfire. Bits of rock flew up, hitting Sam in the face as he pressed back.

Crack! Crack!

Those shots came from above. “Time to move, Remi.”

Remi slid to the edge, swinging her legs down. Nando got up, catching her by her waist as she dropped to the ground.

Sam turned his attention back toward the trail. “Get him?”

“Them.”

“That’s my girl.” Nothing moved out there. “Don’t suppose you saw the other two?”

“No.”

“We need to flush them out.”

“I have an idea…”

He glanced over at Remi and saw her looking at his pack, trying to figure out what she was thinking — until he realized what she was focusing on. “Anything but that.”

“It worked in Madagascar.” Remi picked up his panama hat, twirling it on her finger, a slightly devilish look in her eye as she looked at him.

“That’s my favorite hat.”

Her brow furrowed in mock sympathy. “We’ll be very careful.”

“Not careful enough,” he said, hoping he could find the other two gunmen first. Unfortunately, nothing moved out there. He waited a few more seconds, just in case. “Fine. Just. Be. Careful.”

Remi looked around for a suitable stick.

Nando watched with interest. “What are you planning on doing with that?”

“Not us. You,” she told him, placing the hat on top of the fork-like end, balancing it.

“Me?”

“You’re going to hold it in the window just high enough.” She moved the stick in an up and down motion. “If we’re lucky, they’ll shoot at it.” She glanced over at Sam, then quickly back to Nando. “Or, rather, the hat.”

“How will that help?” Nando asked.

“Muzzle blast,” Sam said, hoping one of the men would make a move before they had to resort to sacrificing his hat. “The reason why Remi had to move from her sniper position. Like a beacon in the night.” He and Remi were going to have to move outside the ruins if they had any hope of taking out the last two kidnappers. The steps leading up to the doorway were high enough to hide behind. He looked to the right, where the buttressed roots of a tree snaked out toward the crumbling wall, providing decent cover. “Remi, take the stairs. I’ll take the right side.”

Remi dashed out the doorway. Nando held the stick and hat, his expression one of uncertainty.

“You’ll be okay,” Sam said.

“How will I know when to show the hat?”

“After I fire a few rounds from the window. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know. Just raise it high enough in the opening so that the moonlight hits it. Make it look like someone’s underneath. Got it?”

Nando nodded. “Got it.”

“Good.” Taking one last look through the vines, he noticed a fruit bat swoop down from beneath the broad leaves of a tree not too far from where Remi had taken out one of the men. “Get ready.”

He fired twice in that direction, then quickly moved back, out of sight, making his way to the right side of the wall. Nando crouched beneath the window, hat low. Sam peered through an opening in the wall, finger on the trigger. “Now!”

Nando bobbed the hat up and down.

Sam’s gaze swept over the landscape. Nothing happened.

“Higher!”

The hat went up.

Twin muzzle blasts flashed again and again as the gunmen peppered the stone walls. Sam fired twice. One of the men cried out, his rifle flying from his hands as he fell back. Remi hit the second man, vines rustling as he fell into the branches.

“Nando, move the hat again. See if we get a response.”

The hat danced in the window. When nothing happened, Sam made his way inside the structure, climbing up the wall where Remi had been earlier, looking out over the jungle and trail.

“Sam?” Remi asked.

“Counting bodies… So far, three…”

“Don’t forget the one who died on the trip wire.”

“That makes four.” He spotted the fifth body where he and Remi had shot the last two, near the trail. “Number six is missing,” he said, spying a blood trail leading away from them.

“Do we go after him?”

“It will take him at least twenty-four hours before he can return with help. I say we put some distance between him and us. The farther away we are from here, the better.”