The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection With EXCLUSIVE Post-Shiva Short Story (3 page)

Another shot chipped a piece of rock nearly into his eye.

Brandt was doing his best to provide cover fire, but one of the gunmen hid behind a large tree. It would only be a matter of moments before a fatal shot found them.

Then a growl drowned out even the gunfire as the perfectly gold–and–black camouflaged jaguar leapt from the branches, knocking the man to his knees. She swiped his back with her huge claws, leaving bloody gouges. The other gunman couldn’t turn in time as she launched at him.

His scream was cut off by a bite to the neck.

Green eyes found Svengurd’s. He could see why the Mayans had worshipped such creatures. Then the jaguar was gone, melting back into the forest.

He didn’t have any time to thank her or even be relieved, as shouts carried through the forest. The rest of the Los Zetas guards were rapidly approaching. Gathering his strength, Svengurd pushed off with his legs and hauled his and the boy’s body weight upward. He caught the craggy ledge with one hand, then was able to find purchase with a toe to catapult them onto the narrow rampart. The CIA operatives were not far behind, scaling the rock wall and cresting the ledge at about the same time as Svengurd.

The only ones still on the wall, halfway up, were Brandt and Vanderwalt.

Svengurd removed the boy’s arms from around his neck and unhooked a line from his belt. “Kirkland, climb down. Then Pollov lower the boy to him.”

He didn’t have time to see if the CIA operatives followed his instructions as he unslung his gun, firing into the forest. He had to give Brandt every opportunity before the guards figured out they had two sitting ducks just waiting for them.

* * *

Amazing how adrenaline worked. Seeing that jaguar in action had pumped Vanderwalt up enough to climb the wall, but it couldn’t fix torn ligaments and severe dehydration. The Brit was flagging. He wasn’t going to make it up the wall on his own.

Brandt climbed up directly beneath Vanderwalt, trusting that Svengurd would provide cover fire. Making sure that his fingers had as strong a hold on the smooth rock as possible, Brandt braced himself.

“Put your foot on my shoulder.” He looked up to find Vanderwalt wide–eyed and flushed. The pasty–skinned Brit wasn’t meant for such heat, humidity, and torture. Brandt had to give it to the guy though. He caught on pretty quickly.

“I can’t. You could fall or—”

“Do it,” Brandt grunted, tiring himself on the sheer wall. He dug in as Vanderwalt put one foot then the other on his shoulders. “Go!”

The Brit pushed off, gaining precious inches up the wall. It wasn’t enough, damn it. Despite Svengurd’s best efforts, the Los Zetas were still taking potshots at them, sending flying limestone everywhere. It was like being in the middle of an exploding quarry—only not quite as safe.

Brandt climbed up to position himself under Vanderwalt again. “Brace!” The Brit’s eyes shone with worry, but he did as he was told. “Go!” Not bothering to wait for confirmation that they still hadn’t reached the top, Brandt just got into position. “Brace.” He took Vanderwalt’s weight as his arms started shaking. “Go!”

This time Vanderwalt must have made it to the top, as his feet disappeared from overhead. Time to do some climbing of his own. However, the ascent was slightly complicated by the fact that the Zetas must have realized their quarry was skipping town, and really put the pressure on. The sound of automatic weaponry filled the air. Brandt scrambled, pushing past the strong likelihood that he wasn’t going to make it to the top. At least not in one piece.

But what he should have been worried about was how slick his fingers had become. Just inches from reaching that precious ledge, his grip slipped. The foothold he’d thought was solid gave way. Brandt could feel gravity just sitting on his shoulder, ready to take him down.

Then there was a strong hand on his neck, grabbing him by the flak jacket.

“Gotcha, Sarge,” Svengurd said as he pulled him up.

Of course this meant that the point man couldn’t provide cover fire. As bullets zinged all around, Brandt’s feet found purchase and pushed him up and over the ledge.

And by over, he meant over. He and Svengurd sailed over the narrow rampart. Twisting mid–air, Brandt caught some stone on the other side. As he slid down the rock, his fingers desperately searched for a handhold. He did not want to end the day with a broken femur.

There! He’d found it. The tip of his boot crammed in between the seam of two rocks. Not much further down, Svengurd broke his fall.

Gunfire went from loud to ballistic on the other side. With his cheek against the cool stone, Brandt was so very glad that the ancients really knew how to build a retaining wall. However, it would only be a matter of moments before they realized they couldn’t shoot through the rock and decided to hop on over.

He was about to climb down when he caught something in the corner of his eye.

“Is that…?” Svengurd asked.

If the point man was talking about a hang glider, than yeah, it was.

The wide yellow wings flared in the late afternoon sun. The thing must have come from deeper within the ruins. While remote, the Becán site had become popular with “extreme” tourists. You know, those Yuppies who did things like mountain bike up ancient temples, bungee jump off stone bridges, and, apparently, hang glide off of Mayan step–pyramids.

Great, now they had some civilian flying into a kill zone.

Only it wasn’t a civie at the helm. As the glider expertly banked, Lopez waved. Sailing over their heads, the corporal shouted, “Don’t worry!” Tacking northeast, he finished, “I’m on my way to get the Jeep!”

Brandt hadn’t been worried…until now.

* * *

Svengurd watched as Lopez sailed over the ruins.

“Nothing we can do but follow,” Brandt grumbled as he descended the wall. The sergeant was correct. Lopez didn’t exactly follow regulations to the letter, but he did get the job done…usually.

Making his way down the wall was far simpler than the ascent had been. His boots hit dirt again. Brandt crouched next to him, aiming up, just waiting for the first brave Zetas to peep his head over.

Slinging his weapon, Svengurd gathered the boy into his arms. They would have to move out ASAP. He scanned the Mayan ruins. Broken walls and toppled temples littered the landscape. Trees lined ancient avenues and a step pyramid stood high above the rest of the city. Even in ruin, though, Becán was something to behold. The Mayans knew how to use rock. Many of the buildings had elaborate lattice work…in stone.

Carvings of skulls and crowned gods adorned many of the buildings.

They weren’t here for a history lesson, though.

Svengurd knew the layout of the plaza. They could leapfrog from temple to temple, using the solid stone structures as cover as they made their way to the rally point.

At least that was the plan—until Brandt yelled, “Incoming!”

A grenade sailed over the wall as everyone scrambled to get out of the way.

The thing landed on the ground. A dud.

The next one wouldn’t be, though.

He got the CIA operatives up and heading toward the cover of a small outbuilding just as the second grenade fell from the sky.

* * *

Brandt shoved Vanderwalt behind a low wall as the grenade exploded. The heat passed overhead, but the stone protected them from the concussive force. Brandt poked his head over the rock to find a charred spot on the ground and several trees on fire.

It looked like Svengurd had gotten his group to shelter, as well. Brandt went to rejoin them, when another grenade sailed over. Ducking down, he rode out the explosion with Vanderwalt.

This time when he looked over the wall, he gave Svengurd the signal to move on.

“We’ll catch up!” Brandt yelled when the point man seemed hesitant to leave them.

Finally, with a nod, Svengurd moved his group out, striking directly toward the Jeep’s location. Vanderwalt and he were going to have to go the long way around. Brandt indicated a small retaining wall with several trees growing out from the stone.

As the fourth grenade came over, Vanderwalt scurried across the open grassy plaza and dove behind the ancient stone. Brandt followed close behind, only when he landed, he spun and set up his shot.

One of the guards tried to crest the high wall. Brandt made sure he didn’t make it over. Svengurd must have had the same idea, as the second man pitched head–first to the ground.

That should give the Zetas something to think about.

“Let’s move,” Brandt said, urging Vanderwalt toward another cluster of ruins. This one looked like a small temple. The Brit tried, he really seemed to try to keep up, but he stumbled. Brandt caught him by the elbow and propelled the MI–5 agent forward, reaching the next set of stony protectors before the next grenade sounded behind them.

Though they were out of range, Brandt still fired, forcing the Zetas back even though he couldn’t hit a single one of them. That was the last time that trick was going to work, though. The guards were going to come over in full force at any second, and there wasn’t a thing Brandt could do about it.

At this point, their best shot at survival was speed. Brandt dragged the exhausted Vanderwalt through a thick grove of trees, angling for the large temple on the other side of the plaza. There were plenty of cubbies and hiding spots. The Zetas were going to have to split their forces. The more they could force the guards to play hide–and–go–seek, the better.

Brandt wished he could see where Svengurd and the others were, but he had to trust his point man. Svengurd knew the terrain even better than Brandt did. He would get the others to safety. The burden was really on Brandt not to screw up the others’ extraction.

Urging Vanderwalt up a stone ramp, they made it to the main temple. Ducking under the rocky arch, they hit shade. The temperature must have dropped a good ten degrees. Brandt resisted the instinct to flip on his light. The ruins had fallen into silence—the Zetas must have been climbing the wall and setting their trackers on Brandt and the others. The less evidence of their path, the better.

Vanderwalt sagged heavily against the stone wall. His breath was coming in heaves. Brandt really wished he could give his old friend a break, but they just couldn’t spare the time. Instead, he draped the Brit’s arm over his shoulder again.

“We’ve got to move out.”

The MI–5 agent gave a weak nod and shuffled alongside Brandt. They were moving half–speed at best. Svengurd was probably already at the Jeep. In all honesty, Brandt would rather be in the dark making his way through an ancient temple than sitting at the rally point wondering where the hell Svengurd was.

Light peeked out at the end of the long tunnel. Brandt quickened their pace. If they could cross the plateau unseen, they could cross behind the large pyramid, which would block any enemy eyes, making it a whole hell of a lot easier to get over the outer wall and reach the rally point.

Leaves played in the breeze just outside the tunnel. Their fluttering filtered the view of the enormous step pyramid, which was just on the other side of the common area. The place where spectators had gathered to watch the sacrifice.
Human
sacrifice.

Brandt could only hope that his and Vanderwalt’s blood would not join the ancients’.

They were nearly to the opening of the tunnel. Light streamed in, reminding them of the jungle’s heat. Vanderwalt visibly wilted.

“Not much further.”

Brandt got an incoherent mumble in response. He swung his gun up as they approached the exit. A single shadow was his only warning that they weren’t alone. He fired before he even thought. Blood splashed across the opening. Shoving Vanderwalt into an alcove carved with a coiled snake, Brandt fired some more.

The fuckers must have had someone up in the trees, monitoring their progress through the ruins. The Zetas were vicious, but smart. Vanderwalt crumbled to the ground.

“Oh no you don’t,” Brandt said, trying to tug the man to his feet. Yes, there were gunmen out there, but not that many of them. Properly timed, they could burst out of the tunnel and make it those few dozen yards to a new source of cover before they got shot.

“Sorry, mate,” Vanderwalt whispered. “I can’t go any farther.” He took a shuddering breath. “Leave me a gun. I’ll cover you.”

“Yeah, right,” Brandt countered. Leaving the Brit wasn’t an option. Leaving anyone wasn’t an option. “I’ve seen your aim.”

Vanderwalt managed that dopey grin of his. “Better than nothing, chap.”

Perhaps, but there had to be another way.

Then he heard the rev of an engine. The type of rev only Lopez could produce—it was more of a tortured automotive cry. Brandt peered between the leaves but couldn’t find the vehicle. It had to be close, though, as loud as the engine was. He risked popping his head out from the alcove. He got chased back by bullets, but confirmed that the Jeep was nowhere on the commons.

Where the hell could it be, then?

With one final screeching rev, the Jeep leapt over the top of the pyramid. The vehicle landed hard on the stone steps, then bounced its way down. The Zetas must have been as shocked as Brandt. Svengurd firing into their ranks seemed to startle them from their stupor, though. One ran across the doorway. Brandt took him down. Given the screams from outside the tunnel, the rest were injured or on the run.

Grabbing Vanderwalt by the collar, he jerked the Brit to his feet.

“Can you run that far?”

The Jeep rattled its way down the stony steps.

“Hell, yes,” Vanderwalt answered, surging forward.

That was what Brandt liked to hear.

* * *

Svengurd braced his legs on the dashboard and door, but even so he almost flew out of the Jeep as it hit one of the steps on the edge, nearly flipping them.

“Pyramid luging!” Lopez shouted. He truly did seem to be enjoying himself.

They had scattered the Zetas, but they would not stay down for long. These guards were no children. They had been battle hardened.

Finally, the Jeep was reaching the bottom. Lopez gunned it, sailing them off the platform and landing a good ten feet from the base. The grassy earth dulled the jarring, at least a little. Then they were across the commons. The corporal skidded them sideways into Brandt and Vanderwalt’s path.