Page 49 of Heat Force
The ranger crouched by a set of footprints leading away from the village. His dark eyes tracked the ground, methodically picking out details that only a seasoned tracker could see.
“They left in a hurry,” he murmured. “Most of the villagers fled into the jungle when the rebels came. They’re hiding.”
Hawk tightened his grip on his rifle. “Lexi? Moyo? Patrick?”
Edmond straightened, pointing toward the huts nestled on the hillside. “Let’s take a look. If they were here, someone will have seen them.”
“Let’s move,” Hawk ordered.
The team split up, slipping into the village. Phoenix and Viper swept left, weapons raised and steps silent. Hawk and Edmond took the right, scanning the shadows and clearing each hut, looking for signs of life—or worse.
“Nothing,” came Phoenix’s voice over the comms, a clipped whisper. “Cleared five huts. Looks like they bailed.”
“Same here,” Hawk replied, his jaw tightening. “Keep going. Stay sharp.”
It was the last hut, tucked against the base of the hill, that gave them their first clue.
“Got something,” Phoenix called.
Hawk and Edmond jogged over. Phoenix stood by the doorway, gesturing toward a makeshift pallet on the ground. Hawk went inside, followed by Edmond. Viper stood guard outside.
Hawk crouched down, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a smooth, shiny object. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands.
“It’s my pocketknife.” His voice was a strangled rasp. “I gave this to Moyo.”
Phoenix gave a grim nod. “At least we know we’re on the right track.”
There were sounds of a scuffle followed by a loud yell. They all dashed outside.
Viper held a frail old man by the arm. “Caught him hiding at the back of the hut.”
“Who are you?” Hawk asked, stepping forward.
The man didn’t answer, just glared at him with milky eyes.
“Edmond?” Hawk barked. “Find out what he knows.”
The ranger spoke in rapid Swahili, his voice low and steady. After a beat, the old man replied. He gestured toward the hills, his lined face etched with worry. Hawk held himself still, forcing patience as Edmond listened, nodding every few seconds.
“They were here,” Edmond finally translated. “The woman, the boy, and the man. They stayed the night, but the rebels came early in the morning. They fled toward the hills. He thinks they’re heading to Bibokoboko, a small village hidden in the Mulenge mountains.”
“Up there?” Hawk glanced toward the steep, mist-shrouded peaks rising above them. It was rugged terrain, treacherous under the best conditions. Lexi and Patrick were on foot, carrying a wounded child no less.
“How long ago?” Phoenix asked.
Edmond relayed the question, then turned back to the team. “They left at dawn. They have maybe half a day on us, but they’re moving slow because of the boy.”
“Fuck,” Hawk muttered, frustrated. He stared thoughtfully at the trail winding up into the hills. “Half a day isn’t much. We can catch them if we push hard.”
Phoenix frowned, scanning the surrounding jungle. “What about the rebels? That old man said they showed up here. How many are we talking?”
Edmond asked the elder, who replied with a toothless grin.
“Four,” Edmond said simply. “All armed.”
“Four?” Phoenix snorted. “That’s a damn warm-up.”
Hawk’s lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile. “Four of them versus four of us. I like those odds.”