Last Spy Standing. Dana Marton

made a point of scratching a couple of times before stopping altogether and stepping aside. “Damned leeches in my pants.”

      One of the men laughed at him, another winced with sympathy, the rest didn’t bother to respond. Nobody stopped to wait. He messed around with his belt and zipper for a while, until they passed him, then he fell in step behind them.

      Step one completed.

      Yet the setup was far from ideal. Since they were walking single file, he’d have to take out the men in the back first as they blocked sight of the others up front. But if he took out the men in the back, the two in the front would start shooting at him. Which would leave Megan and Zak in the crossfire.

      Not that she was a factor. Megan Cassidy was nothing more to him than the possibility of some carnal fun. His unhelpful fascination with her had to stop before it got him in trouble. She could take care of herself. And yet, on some level, he cared. Not because she was another American; God knew he’d been stabbed in the back more than once by his own countrymen. And definitely not because she was CIA. He’d been caught up in their intrigues before. Their wheeling and dealing had once cost the life of a good friend and nearly his, too.

      He had allegiance to his country, not to its corrupt systems. He took orders only from the Colonel. He was loyal only to his team. He trusted very few people beyond that circle. Friends outside the job were too much of a risk.

      His family thought he was dead. Better that way for everyone. They hadn’t gotten along too well when they’d thought he was alive. This way, his work didn’t put them in danger, and they didn’t get on each other’s nerves.

      He was too busy to be lonely.

      Except, back when he’d thought Megan was a traumatized tourist he was leading out of the jungle, she’d sure made him wish for … He wasn’t sure what, but an empty little spot suddenly opened up in his chest.

      He looked at her as she marched on resolutely and felt a funny kind of tingle on his skin.

      Maybe he was getting jungle fever. That would explain why his thoughts were getting jumbled all of a sudden. He wasn’t the type of man who lost his head, and consequently his life, over a pretty woman.

      He had a small box of emergency medicine in his backpack, antibiotics and malaria pills among them. He’d take some meds when they next stopped, Mitch decided as he marched forward, watching where he stepped, until sharp cries pulled his attention to the canopy.

      Howler monkeys were passing by high above the ground, flashes of gray streaking through the emerald green of the foliage. He watched them for a second before returning his focus to the path in front of him and the four men he had to neutralize before he could complete his mission.

      “Are your wrists okay?” Megan was asking Zak up ahead. Paolo had tied the kid’s hands thoroughly that morning. She checked his skin and reached into her backpack, pulled out a jar and put some kind of a salve on Zak’s wrist.

      The kid’s response was lost in the noise the monkeys made.

      She was a strange one. Taking the kid back to Juarez where he’d be shot, yet worried about the ropes cutting into his wrists. She didn’t seem hard-hearted. But definitely focused. She would do whatever it took to achieve her aim.

      So would he.

      The men looked up at the monkeys. Mitch looked at the men. His best chance would be if one of the two up front stopped for a bathroom break. Both at the same time would be outstanding, but he wouldn’t hold his breath for that. He would take whatever opportunity presented itself.

      His break came sooner than he’d expected. The howlers were crossing right above them. The man in front of him slowed as a shot went off.

      Paolo had decided to go monkey hunting. But he’d only managed to wound the animal, which clung to a branch, emitting a keening sound of pain.

      Mitch took aim and ended the animal’s suffering. Then their line scattered at last, Paolo going for the monkey, taking charge of it, even though it hadn’t been his kill. “Let’s eat!” Others moved off into the jungle to gather wood for a fire. Mitch used the distraction to get closer to Megan.

      “Are you with me?” He kept his voice below a whisper. He felt better just standing next to her. Didn’t understand why. He barely knew her. She’d scammed him.

      A lock of hair had escaped her ponytail and curled against the scar on her neck. His fingers itched to tuck that lock behind her ear. He didn’t.

      He watched regret come into her eyes as she said, “I can’t. Not in this.”

      So she wouldn’t fight to help him. But would she fight against him? Or would she stay out of it all together? He didn’t have a chance to ask.

      “Hey, gringo,” Paolo called him over, working at skinning the monkey. “Look at this. Big sucker, eh?” He puffed his chest out. “What do you think?”

      “I think we’re about to have some lunch.” He faked an enthusiastic grin.

      Twenty minutes later, the fire crackled under the roasting meat. When it was done, Paolo divided it and handed out the portions. Mitch ate in silence, filling his stomach for the first time in two days. Now if he could only get some decent sleep. As soon as he and Zak could make their escape and get far enough away from Juarez, they were going to take a serious break.

      From the corner of his eye, he caught Megan sneaking off into the woods. Probably for a bathroom break. The men had taken theirs as they’d walked, barely bothering to step off the path before aiming at the nearest tree.

      Mitch gobbled up the rest of his portion, noting the position of every man, the whereabouts of every weapon. Now was his chance. He could take them without having to worry about Megan. He reached for his gun, ready to yell at Zak to duck.

      If he weren’t watching the men so closely, he wouldn’t have caught the exchanged look between Paolo and Sanchez.

      A second later, Paolo melted into the jungle following the path Megan had disappeared down a minute ago.

      “All right.” Sanchez stood. “Better get going.”

      The others washed down their food with some water then picked up their backpacks and fell in line. One yanked Zak onto his feet. The kid shot a plaintive look at Mitch, but he was more concerned about why Paolo had taken off after Megan.

      He made sure he was the last to head out, bringing up the rear. Then he silently fell behind without anyone noticing. They were slowed by the heat and humidity as much as their full bellies. Catching up with them again wouldn’t be too difficult. Their job was to bring Zak back to Juarez, so unless the kid did something stupid, he’d be safe for the moment.

      In five minutes, Mitch had returned to the remains of their abandoned fire, drops of water sizzling on the coals as rain began to fall. He moved forward in the direction Megan and Paolo had taken.

      He was a pretty good tracker, and they hadn’t bothered to mask their trail. Another minute or two brought him close enough to hear the two of them, and he soon realized they weren’t talking. They were fighting. Mitch rushed forward, finding them rolling in the undergrowth, glaring and swearing at each other. Paolo was doing his best to gain the upper hand while Megan fought like crazy to prevent that from happening. They were a blur of growling faces and entangled limbs.

      For a moment he hesitated, unsure if Megan would want him to interfere or if she needed to beat the man herself to maintain her status on the team. He didn’t want to mess up her mission if he didn’t have to.