Page 68 of Final Approach

Immediately, Madman loosened his arm into a softer stance. Diaz sputtered so hard I thought he would asphyxiate. Then he turned his infuriated stare to me.

“Captain, as a member of the Brazilian Task Force, I demand that you release me at once.”

His voice was hoarse, the order spoken through jagged sandpaper. Cocking my head, I stared down at his soiled dress shirt and tie, the pants he hadn’t changed since we’d landed.

It was my responsibility to protect him, but what about his duty to protect us? He’d done nothing to take charge or lead the passengers to safety, such a task clearly a part of a law enforcement officer's duty to serve and protect. I loathed the entitlement he threw around when convenient without assuming a single onus of responsibility for the vulnerable in our care.

His glower mutated into a sinister scowl when I refused to cower in fear.

“I will be happy to release you, Detective.” I spoke amicably, the good cop to Madman’s bad. “But I think Madman here has asked a few questions he needs answers to before I do.”

Nodding to our executioner in question, the smile he returned was enigmatic. He was enjoying this.

“I should warn you, Diaz, I have your gun. On me, in fact,” I bluffed. “I’m a trained shot. Please don’t make me use it.”

Another beaming grin from my madman. He was going to be so disappointed when he found out I had lied.

There wasn’t a drop of fear in the dark brown pools of Diaz’s eyes, only a fierce, visceral hatred. Finally, after days of subterfuge, I could see his true feelings.

“El Chaco paid me to bring you to Mexico. A member of Clube de Morte killed his daughter on your orders. He is eager to kill you himself.”

Clube de Morte? Madman’s gang. His gang had killed the daughter of one of Mexico’s most dangerous cartel leaders? Holy shit.

“That’s it?” Madman laughed and the boom echoed off the hardwood trees, forcing tropical birds to flee their perches. “El Chaco wants me dead? How …” He searched for the word. “Boring.”

“He’s tried many times already, and could not get to you in the prison,” Diaz admitted with a scowl. “He had to get you off-site. He’s very … dedicated.”

Madman scoffed, as if this were just a regular Tuesday. “But you can be swayed, can’t you, cabrón? You will turn to save your skin.”

He tightened his biceps around Diaz’s neck again, choking off the air supply for a few seconds. Diaz struggled to breathe, legs and arms flapping against the earth like a caught fish. Abruptly, Madman released the hold.

“Why did you take the cocaine?” I eyed the white powder just a few feet away with curiosity.

“Insurance,” came Diaz’s reedy reply. “You’ve obviously chosen this madman”—he spat the word, and angry spittle landed on his chin—“over the law. When we’re rescued, I need you to comply. Simple blackmail.”

He said it so casually, as if ruining lives was a daily occurrence with no bearing on his conscience. Knowing what he’d agreed to do—who he was in bed with—it probably was.

My vision darkened at the edges at his callousness, the way he’d throw away my life—Nikki’s life—without an ounce of remorse. I’d wished for death by my own hand and would wish for it again, but no one, no one got to make that choice for me.

Like he already had for Madman.

It was a good thing Nikki had taken the weapon away from me. I couldn’t be trusted not to shoot him—not in this state.

“I’m going to let you live today, Diaz.” Standing abruptly, I walked toward the cocaine, stepping on his right hand with my full weight. A bone snapped under the pressure. I was thankful for the excellent weight distribution of the new two-sizes-too-big hiking boots Madman had gifted me.

“Madman, get rid of this, please,” I requested with a hand on my hip, attempting a stance that insinuated I had a gun at my back. I turned to the squirming man, now with a broken hand and obliterated pride. His face was backlit by silent rage.

“Diaz, keep to yourself. Help when asked. You won’t survive in the jungle without us, and I’m tired of entertaining your ridiculous attitude. Don’t like it? Venture out into these woods alone. I’m sure there are many things in here that would love a taste of you.”

Like snakes. Big snakes. As if realizing where I was for the first time, I shuddered and stepped back toward the safe, snake-free riverbed. But first: stomach-saving candy.

I feigned grabbing an object from behind my back and “handed” it to Madman out of Diaz’s view. His eyes lit up with glee when he recognized the fib, and he winked that same wink before he’d plundered my pussy with his tongue.

Not at all the time, Marley.

“Madman, now that you have the gun, can you escort Diaz back to his mat?” I said instead before adding, “and do you still have those ginger chews you stole from Tessa’s pack?”

Cocking his head at the sudden topic change, he dipped his head. “They are buried under your mat.”