Kynan regards the mom, the daughter, and the son next. They all nod.
Giving his attention back to Miguel and holding up the backpack, he states, “There’s three million in here, U.S. dollars, as requested. There will be no more money. If you want to uphold the deal that was made, it’s yours. You just send the family over to us, and I’ll toss the bag to you.”
Miguel doesn’t even try to argue as he knew we’d never entertain adding more money. He nods at the bag. “Open it.”
Kynan does so, pulling it wide and angling it toward the man so he can see the copious amounts of money within. There never was any consideration given to stiffing these people. Kidnapping and ransoms are a part of life here, and, oddly, people stick to the rules. The money is given, and the hostages are not harmed. If people started stiffing these guys, it would turn all future dealings into horrendous affairs.
Not that it’s any of my worry.
Miguel orders a man to get the bag. Kynan drops it to his side. With his other hand, he motions to the family to come his way. I hold my Heckler & Koch MP5 across my torso with the tip pointed down in a non-threatening manner. But only my teammates know that my finger on the trigger is ready to act at a moment’s notice. My brothers in arms are the same, and I know Ladd has his sniper support rifle trained on Miguel at this moment.
The family runs our way, needing no further encouragement. Bodie and I flank and then move in front of them while Kynan hands over the bag to the man. He backs away, never taking his eyes off us until he reaches Miguel and hands it to him.
Trusting we’ve provided the proper amount, Miguel slings the pack over his shoulder and gives us a cavalier nod. Then the group of ELN guerillas melts backward into the jungle.
Our work isn’t done. Ladd will stay high to make sure their retreat is permanent, then we’ll move the family to the extraction point just barely a click and a half from here. We’ll have to load the family on a helo, which will take us to the Cartagena airport, and, from there, we’ll put the family on private transport back to the States. We’ll take a separate private plane negotiated as part of our fee.
Unfortunately, this did not go down in time for me to get back to Jaime when I promised.
Which is today—Friday.
I was able to get off a satellite-powered text to let her know of my delay and tell her I would explain everything when I got in on Saturday.
It was finally time she learned the truth.
?
I’m exhausted by the time our plane takes off from Cartegena. It’s a private jet that seats eight, and there’s a flight attendant to see to our needs.
Jackson and Bodie cock their chairs into reclining positions, curl up under the fleece blankets provided, and fall dead asleep.
I’m actually too tired to sleep, so I join Kynan and Ladd in drinking bourbon as we sit at a table near the rear of the plane that has bench seats on each side. We chat for a bit about the mission, all of us agreeing it couldn’t have gone smoother.
We then trade stories about our missions that have gone way worse, allowing levity to guide the narrative. Ladd regales us with a story about how he got shot in the ass in Belarus, and I laugh so hard I suck bourbon into my lungs.
The flight attendant brings us some food—meats, cheeses, and bread—and we wolf it down. We give some thought to waking Bodie and Jackson to see if they want some, but they snooze, they lose.
Eventually, I decide to try for some shut-eye, and it’s Jaime I’m thinking about before I fall asleep. As the plane approaches Pittsburgh, I get closer to having the rest of my life determined—happiness or misery.
I’m not sure how long I’m under, but it feels like no time before the attendant is shaking me awake, asking if I’d like lunch. She informs me we’re an hour outside of Pittsburgh, and asks if I want a turkey club sandwich.
I eat two, down two bottles of water, and watch Jackson, Bodie, and Ladd play a game of Spades.
I’m nervous, no doubt. I pace the aisle of the jet until it’s time to buckle in for landing. There’s no telling how Jaime is going to receive my truth after so many lies.
There’s a van waiting for us at the airport at the private jet terminal, and it takes us back to Jameson headquarters. Bodie doesn’t even bother trying to talk me into going out. Even though he’s my best friend and heading back to Vegas in the morning, he’s well aware of the conversation I’ll be having with Jaime when I get to her apartment. I told him about my marriage on our way into Cartagena. While he is legitimately happy for me, he’s also riding my ass to tell Jaime the truth as soon as possible.