Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) Read Online Free Page B

three at a time. His pulse was pounding and his head was spinning. He needed water, badly, but he pushed the thirst away and dashed across the hotel lobby. When he went out the front doors, he slid on the icy sidewalk, then regained his balance and took off down the street like a shot, zigging and zagging through narrow alleyways and corridors.
    After about a mile of running, he broke into the back of what looked like a locksmith's shop. He guzzled water from the bathroom tap, then raided the place. It wasn't exactly a restaurant, he didn't expect to find much food, but there was a box of Pop-Tarts. He hid in the office, behind a file cabinet, and munched away at the sugary treats while he tried to think of a plan.
    Holy shit, I made it. I fucking made it. What did that crazy bitch say? She's going to Colombia tomorrow?
    South America. He hadn't been there in a long time, not since working a job in Rio a couple years back with Kingsley Law. He sighed and let his head drop back against the wall. Law. He would be a great help somewhere like Colombia. The man spoke fluent Spanish, was incredibly smart, and had a lot of contacts within the Colombian and Venezuelan governments.
    It wasn't the first time he'd thought about calling Law and asking for help, but just like all the other times, he shook the urge off. No, Marc would do this himself. He would be the one to track down Stankovski and kill him. Only Marc. He'd made a promise to himself, and to the most incredible woman he'd ever met. Leaving her had been hard enough. One of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but he'd done it for a reason. It meant something. He'd honor that.
    He always held onto that notion. To that justification. That by getting vengeance for her, he was making leaving her worthwhile.
    If he didn't believe in that, then he didn't know what the fuck he was doing anymore.
    Wherever you are, sweetheart, I hope you're praying for me. I could really fucking use it .

DAY TWO HUNDRED AND SIX
     
    Eight Kilometers East of Salento, Colombia
     
    Lily held on as her guide took the Jeep down the steep embankment. They crashed and careened through the jungle, following a muddy path that she hoped would lead them to the smoke they'd seen earlier. Then, after maybe a kilometer or two, the Jeep veered off the path. They mowed through bushes until they came across a fallen tree.
    “Straight ahead,” her guide instructed, pointing in front of them. “You see? You follow it. You will find the way.”
    “Got it. Thanks,” Lily nodded at him as she climbed out of the vehicle. Before walking away, she grabbed something out of the backseat.
    A black pack with a thick strap that was made to latch across the chest at an angle. It was large, too big for her really, which made sense. It was a man's pack, given to her six months before, by a very specific man.
    Lily had held onto the bag for six months. After she'd gotten Marc's lovely little kiss-off letter, she'd packed up that same bag and left Tangier the moment she'd found out Kingsley's whereabouts.
    Though she hadn't flown directly to him. She'd never told him, but she and her precious bag had made a little detour. A special trip to the desert outside of Casablanca. One last errand before she said goodbye to Africa, possibly forever. Then she'd thrown the bag across her back and flown off to Thailand.
    She hadn't let go of it since.
    After she had the pack strapped on over her rain jacket, Lily took off through the brush. It was hard to see, but there was a definite path of sorts. A bent branch here, a depression in the mud there. She followed it all, water dripping off the brim of a hat she wore low on her head. The rain had finally opened up and it was pouring on her.
    She finally came into a small clearing of sorts. She found the source of the smoke she'd seen earlier – a fire pit, reduced to just glowing embers. It had probably been roaring at one point earlier in the day, but had been left unattended and had