158

EOIN

We’d  landed  on  Sunday  morning,  and  it  was  now  Monday

evening, but if anyone had asked how many hours we’d been in the country, I’d have no idea. Honestly, the only reason I even knew the day was because Bruce had announced it when he’d come out of the bathroom at the shithole hotel where we were staying.

Bruce was a morning person.

We’d landed on an out-of-the-way runway a friend of Cain’s had directed us to, paid a bribe to the man in charge there, and then took a piece of junk van that looked like something a serial killer would use to lure victims.

The pilot stayed with the plane, both to keep an eye on it and in case we needed to take off fast. I didn’t know much about him other than he was a scary-looking son of a bitch, and Cain trusted him. That was good enough for me.

All the intelligence that Cain had gotten said the kidnappers were in the area, but we’d still had to do some legwork. So