V

Raven's Point, The Amazon Jungle, South America. 0200 hours.

THE ITCHING WAS BEGINNING TO GET UNCOMFORTABLE.

King struggled to keep still. He was camping out on a tree about three metres from the gates to the house of the target.

The target they were supposed to kidnap.

His name was Pierre Gold and his illegal activities involved his last name in them. Illegal panning for gold without official authorization, people made into slaves and forced to work to death, with no food or water, etc. So far he'd managed to cover his tracks but he was getting reckless and a phone call was intercepted. A delivery of new slaves was expected at 3am sharp.

Pierre's house was surrounded by varieties of fauna and flora. It would be impossible for a team to navigate their way through without making a sound. And Pierre would be cautious and training his security against armed men.

Not children, though.

And just like that, they'd been contacted by the FBI and planned the operation together.

It's so simple, they said. Use the camo suit and start crawling all the way to the target's location once you reach the checkpoint. Throw in some meat, laced with sleeping pills for the bulldogs roaming the front yard. Creep up on the four guards stationed there and disarm them. Use their uniforms as cover and get into the house. Subdue the target and activate the flare that acted as the signal for the SWAT team to move in.

King and Blue had so far been civil to each other for the sake of the mission, and so far, everything had been going perfect until they'd reached the location.

I'm going in alone, she suddenly announced.

King had laughed, It's common sense to do this together. We'll cover more ground that way and started for the house.

Blue had grabbed his hand and looked him dead in the eyes.

I know where he's supposed to be. I've been monitoring his movements long before I, sorry we got assigned to this mission. He's most likely in his study, reading. He rarely sleeps.

King had sighed.

What?

I'm not stupid, Blue. You want the credit for everything. You'd go in and get him out single handedly while I play babysitter. Tell me I'm wrong.

What? No, that's-

If it'd make you shut up, do it. We were briefed to do this together. But whatever, go ahead. You get captured, you know what to do.

Blue grimaced, instinctively feeling for the cyanide pill in her pocket. Keys had been very clear about that part of the briefing.

I'd be in and out a couple of minutes. Don't do anything stupid.

Thirty minutes had passed since then and King suddenly had enough. Anything to avoid the itching. He slipped down from the tree and walked towards the gates, pausing only to don another guard's uniform. The guards should've come to by now, but they were stripped, bound and gagged. No help would be coming for them.

He pushed open the gates and stepped inside. He checked his watch. 2:45am. This was not going according to plan at all. Where the hell was Blue? He crossed the courtyard in long strides and leapt up, fingers curling around the balcony railings, and flung himself over-

-right into a snarling guard, armed with a machine gun. He brought it round and took aim.

King's reaction was instant. An axe kick to the guard's firearm hand, shattering the bones of his trigger finger and a solid right hook to his jaw before he could scream took him out cold.

That was close.

He edged along the corridor, avoiding guards whenever he could and trying to look like he knew what he was doing whenever he couldn't.

He suddenly heard a man's voice coming from a room. Creeping stealthily, he slinked over to the door and put his ear to the door

"-take me for a fool. Again and for the last time, who are you?"

"I told you, I got lost."

King stiffened when he heard Blue's voice.

"That doesn't explain the camouflage outfit. Or the cyanide pill. Or the faint traces of raw meat I can smell on the gloves you thought you discarded but that got found by my men. I know all that."

Pierre paused.

"I don't know who you work for and I don't think you came in here alone. Trust me when I say....."

Incoming footsteps jerked King back to alertness. There wouldn't be any good explanation about what he was doing here, real guard or not. Pierre had an inner circle of specially trained personnel and they were the only ones allowed on this floor, according to the briefing. He glanced around quickly, looking for a place to hide and managed to spot an unlocked door, not too far from him. Seconds later, he was inside, waiting with bated breath for the footsteps to recede.

It was dark. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, trying to conceal as much light as possible. His eyes widened when he realized where he was and a plan started to form in his head.

It was crazy, probably stupid and would destroy everything within two miles radius of the house. But he had no other choice. A discarded lighter, and several cylinders of gas. Pipes and metal tubes snaking the walls of the room. Several lengths of rope and twine, cleaning supplies and Jerry cans of engine oil, petrol,  gasoline and lubrication. All what he needed as he cast his eyes around the room

He worked quickly, glancing at his watch every now and then. Five minutes later, he was done. He tried not to think about how he was probably signing his own death warrant as he touched the lighter to the end of the petrol soaked rope.

Hell, he thought and flicked it.