Badass: Jungle Fever (Complete): A Billionaire Military Romance

by Leslie Johnson

  “Stop yelling at her!” Janine shouts. “It’s a legitimate question.”

  I’m in the bowels of hell.

  Turning my back on them, I start hacking at the undergrowth again, this time with renewed vigor. I might have to start doing this when I get home. Better than a punching bag.

  “What mosquito crawled up his ass?” I hear Janine ask Camille behind me.

  Slash.

  “The fun sucking one, apparently,” Cam replies.

  Slash.

  Their giggles spear into my brain. Slash.

  Twenty more slashes and, thank God, there’s a small clearing. I step into it and look around. It’s bigger than small. A long rectangle shaped space approximately thirty by fifty feet. I try to listen for water over the screaming of the insects, but can hear nothing over their noise. Good enough. It’s getting darker by the minute.

  “Ladies, welcome to our first camp.”

  Cam and Janine both drop the bags of supplies they’re carrying and sink down to the ground. Really? They’re tired? “Both of you up. You need to search for fire wood while I scout for water. Also, look through our supplies and see what we have that’s fit for dinner. Cam, I’ll need to change your dressings again. Then I’ll fashion the parachutes as hammocks. We need to be off the ground during the night.”

  Camille’s lower lip is stuck out, but she gets back to her feet. Janine slowly follows. I pick up the gun and other weapons and head off. I don’t think Janine will try to hurt Cam again, but I’m not giving her an opportunity to get close to a knife or gun. Especially if I’m not right there.

  Breaking limbs down to mark my path, I’m pleased to see this section of the jungle is much clearer. There’s no explanation as to why this section is thin, while what was behind us is thicker, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to let my arms rest for a while.

  Pausing to listen again, I still can’t hear over the insects and I don’t find any source of water. I do find a beautiful lapacho tree, the pink flowers a strong contrast to all the green. I pull out my knife and dig it deep into the bark, sawing through the thick outer shell to the soft heartwood underneath.

  “Thank you,” I tell the tree, and don’t feel the least bit dumb as I continue to be grateful for its sacrifice. I can steep this bark into a tea that offers many medicinal properties. It’s good for infection and fever, among other things. Thanking the tree a last time, I move on, feeling more hopeful that there is a water source nearby.

  Another two hundred yards and I find it, the tiniest of streams flowing through another small clearing. An actual stream! Not just a pool of stagnant water. Hope blooms in my chest. We have something to follow now. All water leads to civilization eventually.

  Even more exciting is the vegetation that I find around the area. Trees I can harvest heart of palm from; excellent for eating. Aloe vera! I can’t believe my good fortune. It’s like I’ve found a gold coin in a pile of elephant dung.

  Looking up, I can see blue sky for the first time in hours. Just a sliver, but enough to feel slightly normal again. I walk down the stream, searching for a place that would make a good camping site. It’s a risk. Animals come to water. But we need this too. I find a tiny area about twenty yards downstream that’s about ten yards off the banks.

  A smile on my face, I head back to the girls to give them the excellent news.

  I find them sitting on a parachute, a small stack of sticks sitting beside them, going through the supplies.

  Really?

  They’ve gathered kindling. Enough to start a fire. Nowhere near enough to let it burn all night. I take a deep breath and remind myself that these are city girls, well, at least Camille is. I know not one fuck about the other one.

  “I found water,” I tell them and Camille jumps up, holding something behind her back. By the look on her face, I can’t tell if what she’s hiding is good or bad. “Tell me you found canned filet mignon.”

  She bites her lower lip. “Close.” Slowly, she shows me the can of ravioli. “We’ve got sixteen cans of these.”

  I inhale and say in the least irritated voice I can muster. “What else?”

  Janine holds up two boxes of Ritz crackers.

  I exhale. “Anything else?”

  Camille’s still biting her lip. “Eight bottles of water. The vodka. A bottle of ketchup. And…” she Vanna Whites toward Janine, who holds up three packages of Oreos. Camille bends over and pulls out a can of beer. She holds it out to me. “Here. Why don’t you go ahead and drink this?”

  I take her up on it, snapping the tab and chugging it down in one long chug.

  “Better?” Camille asks hopefully, once I’m finished. I nearly crush the can for stress relief, then think better of it. All containers are valuable.

  Cam’s face crumbles. “I’m sorry. I was so dazed and confused when I was getting everything and I didn’t really know what to get. I thought we were flying out of here, I didn’t realize I’d…” she coughs into her hand, then presses it under her eye, “I’m sorry.”

  Janine stands and puts a comforting arm around her and I nearly blow my top. She takes a step back as I glare at her. Camille may have semi-forgiven her for everything she’s done. I have not.

  “Gather our ravioli and let’s move everything to our new spot,” I say between gritted teeth. Then, because I can’t stand how sad Cam looks, I add, “Don’t forget the Oreos. Good call on those.”

  She brightens a little and stoops to toss everything back into the parachute bag. I adjust the belted gun on my back and pick up the kindling. This is going to be a very long night.

  Chapter Eight – Camille

  A few hours later, I can’t believe everything Tate’s done. We’re sitting by a roaring fire, eating ravioli and heart of palm that he’d used the propeller of the plane to harvest. He’s made cups out of the biggest bamboo I’ve ever seen, as well as a sort of kettle from bamboo. The makeshift kettle is currently boiling water from the little stream Janine and I collected it from, with bark added that he said was good for infection. I didn’t know hollow sticks had so many uses.

  “Before it’s completely dark, we need to bathe in the stream the best we can,” he says, after chewing a huge bite of ravioli. “There’s plenty of aloe vera around. Use it as soap, shampoo, whatever. Then, once you’re dry, put on a thick layer. It will help heal any abrasions and protect against mosquitoes.”

  I just gaze at him. “How do you know all this stuff?”

  He lifts a shoulder and takes another bite. “What I didn’t learn in the army, I got from survival courses I took to get first-hand experience. Jungles. Antarctica. The harshest places I could find.”

  “It’s a good thing. I couldn’t have even gotten down from that plane if it wasn’t for you.”

  Finishing the last bite, he stands and walks over to a large bunch of aloe stalks he harvested just before we ate. He carries them back to the fire and unscrews the lid of an empty water bottle and begins squishing the sticky gel into the plastic.

  “Here, I can do that,” I say and move next to him, eager to help do something I’m sure I won’t screw up. I didn’t realize until today how completely spoiled I am. I had been fooling myself, thinking my trips to third world countries made me any less citified. Yes, I slept in tents. Nice large tents with cushy beds. Yes, I’d gone without formal plumbing, but always had an outhouse for my use and even sun showers every day. There were cooks to make meals. Guides to show the way. Security and assistants to cover everything else.

  I’m not prepared for this.

  And I’m terrified.

  Sitting next to Tate makes me a little less scared.

  “What can I do?” Janine asks, surprising me. I hate to admit it, but I don’t hate her as much as I know I should. We talked earlier. Really talked. And I don’t think it was filled with bullshit that time.

  I think.

  Still not willing to trust her, I’m wary, but trying to act as if my guard is down. It just seems better that w
ay. If we’re going to be here, then it might as well be as peaceful as possible. I’m willing to do that much at least.

  “Use the hot water from those cans to clean the plates,” Tate tells her, as he continues to strip the goo from the plant stems. She hops up to do as she’s told.

  “Do you trust her?” I whisper to him.

  “Like I would a viper,” his low voice rumbles back. “I’m going to seal her in her hammock tonight so I can get some sleep.”

  Seal her? I don’t even want to ask him what that means.

  “You finish this up,” he tells me. “I’m going to string a clothes line above the fire. In one hundred percent humidity, it’s the only chance we have of letting them, and us, dry out.”

  “But we don’t have a change of clothes,” I remind him.

  He lifts an eyebrow. “Correct.”

  “If they are drying over a fire, then what will we be wearing?”

  The eyebrow wiggles up and down. “Absolutely nothing.”

  My mouth falls open in surprise, even as my stomach twists and desire flares in my belly. Carefully and slowly, I lift an arm and do a little pit sniff. Oh good Lord.

  He laughs, catching me in the act, with my nose still wrinkled in disgust. He comes toward me, then kneels in front of where I’m sitting. He leans forward until we’re face to face. “Camille, no amount of salt on your skin would ever change how much I want to taste you.” He nuzzles his face into my neck and licks up my jugular to my ear, taking it between his teeth. He inhales. “Your scent, perfumed or wild, drives me crazy. If we were alone right now, I’d push you backwards and strip those little shorts off. I’d eat you so long and so hard, you’d have to beg me to stop.” His hand curls into my hair and pulls my head back before his lips crush down on mine.

  “I’d say get a room, but there really isn’t one.”

  Tate stiffens and growls against my lips.

  He stands and turns to face Janine, whose eyes grow wide. She holds her hands out. “Just kidding,” she says, and shows all her teeth in a fake smile. “Please don’t kill me.” She looks around. “Pee. I need to go pee. I’ll just go take the pee thing and get out of your way.”

  She picks up the piece of metal and I’m surprised when Tate chuckles. “Can you pee for fifteen minutes?” he asks her.

  Her eyes flick to me, then back to him. “Sure. I’ve been holding it all day.”

  She turns on her heel and marches off. Tate and his golden eyes focus on me.

  “Here?” I ask once she disappears behind a tree. I can still hear her boots walking away.

  He nods and pulls his shirt over his head. Muscles ripple everywhere as he tosses it to the ground.

  I swallow. “You said fifteen minutes. You can’t do quickies.” I look around us, conflicted between the need churning inside me and how exposed we are. “Remember?”

  He kicks off his boots, then his pants slide down his legs and joins his shirt. “I never said I can’t.” He grins and rubs himself through his boxer briefs. “Why would I want it to end with you? I like fucking you for hours.”

  His lips nuzzle my neck, as he presses me back into the nylon cloth.

  “Condoms. Do you have condoms?”

  That gets his attention.

  Sitting up, he straddles my stomach. “No. Shit.” He closes his eyes. “When are you supposed to start again?”

  I’m appalled when my face warms. I’m an adult. I can talk about periods. “Three weeks. I finished Friday.” Then I remember. “I don’t have my pills. I’ve missed the past,” I have to think, “two days.” Or is it three? I don’t even know.

  He growls and begins to stand up. I stop him, laying a hand on his abs, my fingers trailing down the tightly layered muscles. “Would it be so bad if we just happened to make a baby?”

  He’s on his feet, pacing, picking up his pants. One leg slides in. Then the other. “Guess that answers my question,” I mutter and sit up, straightening my clothes. But I can’t blame him. A wife and baby are nowhere on his radar. Mine either, I remind myself.

  He’s pacing back and forth, then comes to stand in front of me. He reaches out and I place my hand in his. “Sorry,” he says, and hugs me close to his chest. “You’d be the only woman I’d ever even think about making a baby with. It’s just—”

  “Shhh,” I soothe him. “I know. Our lives are too separate. You’d be gone too much. I couldn’t travel with a baby. It wouldn’t be fair to a child. Yada yada blah blah.”

  He hugs me tighter. “All that’s true and yet…”

  I look up at him. “Yet?”

  He kisses my forehead. “I can see you sitting in a nursery, a baby at your breast. I can even see that baby being mine.”

  I wrap my hands around his neck, ignoring the pain the action causes. I pull him down for a real kiss this time. “Next lifetime?”

  He smiles against my lips. “Yes. Next lifetime for sure.”

  As he kisses me again and our tongues twist together, I wish our next lifetime were now. He’d be such a wonderful father if his career was different. I could see him coaching little league, teaching his son how to make cups from bamboo. Protecting his daughter. Heck, he’d be teaching her all those things too.

  “Oops,” Janine calls out. “I counted to sixty fifteen times.”

  Tate growls, but doesn’t let me go. “Get lost. We need another fifteen.”

  Janine stops, pouts, then turns around. Loudly, she yells, “One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississ—”

  It strikes.

  A long black snake whips out from a bush, catching her on the side.

  Janine screams and jumps away, then turns back toward the two of us. I’ve never seen someone look so scared.

  She takes a step.

  Then another.

  And tries to take one more. But her knees buckle and she collapses face first onto the ground.

  Chapter Nine – Link Duffy

  “Deakins, give me some good news,” I shout into the phone over the noise of the helicopters rotors.

  “Happy to, sir. We’ve located your father.”

  If I’d been standing, my knees would have buckled. “Where?”

  “That’s where the good news ends, I’m afraid, sir.” I grind my teeth together, waiting for him to finish. “He’s in Colombia, sir.”

  Dammit. I knew it!

  “He’s trading himself for Camille, isn’t he?”

  “That would be my guess too, sir. He went through a great deal of trouble to get down there under the radar. We missed him during our first facial recognition sweep of airports, because he’s changed his hair color and is wearing a mustache, glasses and colored contacts. He also appears to be wearing a padded suit, making him appear heavier.”

  I rub my temple. “How did you recognize him then?”

  “You’ll have Thomas to thank for that, sir. He was monitoring the airports and stayed up all night to watch each person board and de-board planes, both commercial and chartered. When he found nothing, we followed the men to restrooms, watching who went in and who came out. A man in a cheap navy suit went in, but didn’t come out. Rewinding the tape, he found a man who wasn’t logged as going in come out. Same dark hair. Same mustache and glasses. Much trimmer and wearing khakis and black collared shirt. I’m sending you the photo for confirmation.”

  My phone vibrates in my hand. I tap the screen. Son of a bitch. It’s my father. No doubt about it.

  “It’s him. What’s his status?”

  “Seconds after leaving the restroom, he was joined by two men. Sending pictures now.”

  My phone vibrates again. I don’t recognize the two men.

  “ID?”

  “Not yet, sir. We were able to follow him leaving the airport and getting into a black Range Rover. Sending photo of the plate now.”

  I feel the vibration, but don’t look this time. “Direction of travel?”

  “Sorry, sir. We lost him out of the airport parking lot. But—”

&nb
sp; “But you’d put money on him heading my way?”

  “My life savings, sir.”

  “Good work, Deak. Appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome, sir. I’ll let Thomas know as well. Also, one of the men who met your father made a call. Thomas is attempting to find a camera angle that will allow us to view the phone’s screen. With good luck, we’ll be able to zoom in well enough to see the number.”

  Hell, yes. “I’ll cross my fingers on that, Deak.”

  “Me too, sir. I’ll be in contact as soon as we do.”

  “Sounds good.” Then I have to know. “How’s my family?”

  “Safe, sir. I’ll encrypt Mrs. Duffy’s new burner phone number now.”

  My phone vibrates and I smile, feeling closer to her somehow.

  “Thanks, Deak.”

  “You’re welcome, sir. Please charge your phone, sir. You’re at less than thirty percent battery.”

  I laugh. “Thanks, big brother.”

  “It’s all in the details, sir.”

  I disconnect the call and find a port to charge the sat-phone, looking out at the green jungle beneath me.

  Dammit, Dad. This isn’t protocol and he knows it.

  Then I think about my children. Think about Grace and know I’d trade myself for them in an instant.

  Cam, too.

  Then I instruct the pilot to head back to the airport. We have a Range Rover to find.

  Chapter Ten – Tate

  I wasn’t close enough to see the snake and it’s gone by the time I get there. It was dark and it was huge. Aggressive. Another fer-de-lance, most likely. The deadliest snake in South America.

  If it was, there’s nothing I can do to save her. The next couple hours will be brutal.

  Janine is trying to get up after falling, her hand covering the bite marks on her side. If she’d been bitten on the arm or the leg, I might’ve been able to amputate, giving her a chance. But the bite is too close to too many vital organs. All I can do is scoop her up and take her back to the parachute where Camille is still standing, her hands covering her mouth in horror.

  “Is it bad?” Janine asks, when I lift her shirt to look at the bite mark.