Dawn greeted them with an overcast sky, shortly followed by a deluge of water that quickly soaked the fugitives down to their skins. They pressed on as best they could, but at least the weather kept the choppers at bay and gave them a head start.

Christen worried about the two injured soldiers. Both showed signs of fever, despite Doc's brilliant plan with a piece of waterproofed tarp that kept them dry. The stench of the wounds warned her that infection had set in, and Morris showed the early signs of delirium.

The jungle provided Doc with a few natural antibiotics, but their patients needed a hospital, and she wasn't looking too hot either. No one wanted to admit it, but the stretchers slowed them down, forcing them to choose the easiest route.

The undergrowth became denser, and they had to hack at it with machetes, leaving a distinct trail for whoever came after them. Although the rain washed away their footprints, the sweat from their bodies and the heat made their uniforms and soggy boots chafe.

The mud slowed their progress, and when the clouds dissipated by noon, the sun turned the forest into a sauna. Their clothes dried quickly but remained stiff, giving them no relief.

Something caught her attention, and Doc paused beside her, favoring her hurt arm.

"What is it?"

"Choppers in the distance. They are searching in the direction we were originally heading. I should have stolen the radio from those that followed us, but it was a high-tech device with a satellite tracking unit and passcode encryption. I saw one at a recent tech conference, but not even our high-tech operation hands them out on field missions yet."

"More proof that we are being hunted by Americans."

***

Christen knew before Doc dared to admit it that if they didn't get out of this hellhole fast, both her patients would not make it. The wounds showed all the signs of gangrene, and the choppers searched in a grid that would soon bring them overhead.

"We have trouble coming our way," she whispered, and Williams glanced at her before moving out of line and allowing her to catch up with him.

"The choppers?" he asked, which told her he did not hear them yet but would soon.

"Yes," she said, and he nodded. "The canopy is less dense than earlier, and we would have to hide when the time comes, but it would be difficult to conceal the stretchers while moving."

"We'll hide them when the choppers come closer," he agreed, and she moved past him.

***

It was almost twilight before the grid reached them, and by then, even the humans heard the helicopters.

They hid, but as Christen glanced up, she noticed a camera mounted under the belly of the chopper. Zooming in on it, she determined it wasn't an ordinary camera. They were screwed, and even as she realized this, it hovered, ropes dropped over the open sides, and men swarmed down.

"Those choppers have infrared cameras," she said, lifting her gun. Without thinking, she took out three men as they repelled over the side, but the others were already on the ground—almost ten.

She didn't try to take out the helicopter out of fear that it might explode and set the forest on fire.

Christen, Doc, and Williams glanced at each other. If any of them wanted to live, they would have to leave the stretchers, scatter into the forest, and try to keep their enemies away from this spot.

"Scatter," Doc gave the order, and Williams nodded as he ensured the camouflage net hid the invalids before taking off.

She noticed with relief that Doc had Sera by the hand. The others ran away from the men coming their way, but Christen and Williams ran toward them. Already the second helicopter approached, and soon the forest would swarm with men. Why was it so important that these men find or kill this particular group?

Christen heard them and knew exactly where the attackers were but soon could not distinguish between enemies and friends. She would have to track down the men one by one and hope that whoever searched for them would be arrogant enough not to send reinforcements.

It was stupid of them to come into this forest so close to nightfall, but they had no idea what happened to the others. The men were not moving as a unit. Each of them just picked a direction and advanced into the forest. They were not soldiers but mercenaries. Hired guns.

Pulling her knife from her boot, she put away her gun. She couldn't afford to give away her position, and it wasn't as if these men could sneak up on her. From this moment forward, they were all involved in a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

Williams was somewhere in the forest to her right, but she couldn't pick out his heartbeat from all the others. Taking the lefthand side, she chose to jump into the nearest tree, something her enemies would not expect.

The towering trees were not a safe bet with snakes, spiders, and other critters that lived in them, but it would give her an edge. Something moved to the right of her, and her gaze settled on a tiny owl she had disturbed, and he blinked at her with his big yellow eyes. Still half asleep, he watched as she settled on her haunches. Its lack of fear amused her briefly.

"Stationary attacker ten feet to your right," a voice called out over a comm unit, and Christen almost swore.

The choppers were holding their positions to guide the mercenaries with the camera. A soldier in full combat gear appeared eight feet to her right, and she watched him approach her position with caution as the disembodied voice led him to her.

He stopped below her, and when it occurred to him to look up, it was too late. Taking her cue from Doc, she drew the knife when she looked into his denim-blue eyes. He never even made a sound as he sank to his knees.

The operator tried to raise him, and she scanned the trees, but there was no one in the vicinity yet.

Christen dropped down and pulled the knife from his eye socket with dread as the remaining eye stared at her with accusation. This guy knew what he signed up for, but it didn't make her feel any less guilty.

Fifty yards to her left, someone screamed. Gunfire echoed through the trees and cut the sound off abruptly. It wasn't one of their guns. Further away, something crashed to the ground, and moments later, a single shot rang out. The chatter over the comm unit told her that one of her friends died and one of theirs. Two, counting the one she took out. She stole his comm unit, gun, ammo, knife, and provisions and hauled him up into the tree as she did before.

Her eyes settled on the south side. Someone approached her position. The comm operator had sent him to check on the man she killed, and he died like his comrade did. Except he didn't think to look up into the tree until blood dripped from the corpse onto the branch to make its way to the puddle already being absorbed by the ground.

Blood calls to blood, Christen thought, the blade leaving her hand.

"Derrickson! Derrickson?!" the operator called in frantically. Female, young sounding. "Check the trees, people, check the trees," she yelled, and Christen swore.

They were far from the nearest settlement, and if she bided her time, the choppers would soon have to refuel. Then it will just be the enemy and the hunter, but she would not sit still while her friends died.

She barely had time to remove Derrickson before two more men burst from the trees on opposite sides. Drawing her gun from her holster to shoot one, she rolled out of the way to avoid being riddled with bullets as the knife left her hand a third time.

The first soldier dropped where he stood. The second one pulled the trigger in the instant of his death, and the gun lifted slowly into the air as it spewed bullets until there weren't any left, and it clicked on empty. His violent end drew five of his comrades to her position.

Christen ran in the one direction where there weren't any enemies, using her strength, speed, and agility to escape. She couldn't risk getting hurt, not with people that needed her.