The night sounds in the Colombian jungle were unlike anything else in the world. Time and space lost all meaning in the cacophony of sound that ebbed and flowed as the moon made its relentless way across the sky. The howl of a monkey or the screech of a bird from miles away could sound like it was right outside one’s tent. Seasoned jungle visitors knew not to worry overly much about the largest, loudest animals. No, the silent predators, no matter how small, ruled this jungle. You wouldn’t hear a spider or a frog as it made its way to you as you slept. You likely wouldn’t feel its poisonous bite but the result was inevitable: death. And not the quick, peaceful kind either. A slithering snake winding its way around your sleeping form wouldn’t be discovered until its coils had squeezed the life right out of you, or until its deadly venom went to work shutting down vital organs and ultimately leading to your doom.
Perhaps ignorance truly was bliss. But the Glazovs were accustomed to the perpetual threat of death – just not in a jungle. The same way the cartel owned the streets of Colombia, wild creatures owned the jungle and all who lingered there.
“I’ll be so glad to get the fuck out of here,” Roksana muttered under her breath. “I’m sick of pulling leeches off my body. They’re disgusting and, no, just stop–” she said tersely when her husband opened his mouth to speak. “I do not want to hear a word about their role in the jungle’s food chain. I don’t give a single shit. The leeches are nasty, and the tarantulas are big enough to sit down and eat breakfast with you.” She shuddered.
“Where the hell did you come up with a comparison like that?”
She grimaced and declared, “I haven’t exactly been sleeping well. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
Logan shook her head as she laughed, “Only you would say something like that, Roksana. Listen, I think it’s late enough to get started. We don’t want to be here when the shit hits the fan. I’ve got the feeling this Aurora chick isn’t going to waste any time getting here. She didn’t get pegged as the ‘Queen of the South’ by not being at the top of her game. From what I’ve heard, the bitch is dangerous and I bet all hell will break loose if she shows up. Bullets will be flying, and we definitely don’t want to be here for that. I wouldn’t be surprised if she takes out the two men responsible for this fuck up. And, I say, more power to her if she does.”
Kodiak looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the floor of the tent. “She better not take out any of the Ramirez crew.”
Oleg weighed in. “She didn’t get where she is by being foolish.”
Roksana’s voice was cold. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow any of us to be the victim of ‘friendly fire’. Those fucking bullets don’t care who they hit. All it takes is one asshole who can’t shoot worth a shit, and we go down. There’s no doctor out here in bumfuck-Egypt, so there’s no margin for error here.” She looked around at the people she loved more than life, then gave a curt nod. “Okay, it’s go-time. Logan, you’re the thief of the family”—
“Hey, now…I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”
“Try not to be either because when we do get back home, I want you to show me how to pickpocket. Maybe we can order a dummy and rig it to light up and buzz when you don’t do it right.”
“What, like some kind of pickpocket Operation game?” Logan teased.
“Yeah, something like that. Anyway, Oleg and I are supposed to intercept Aurora at the airstrip, and then we’ll oversee getting this emerald shipment home. Sounds like Father wants Aurora to fly us home so we can build some rapport with the Sinaloans before we leave. Whether Escondido likes it or not, he has serious competition with that woman. As soon as you get your hands on that canary diamond, get on that bike and hit the road to Bogota. Father will get word to you there. You should still make it home by Christmas. You’d better. You know how important Christmas Eve is to Mom. Just get home safe whenever you can.”
“Yeah, I want to meet those twins – and see your father deal with being a grandfather,” Logan said with a grin.
“What if we’re not there when they’re born?” Kodiak frowned as if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him before.
“We better make it home by Christmas. You know how Mom likes to have all her ducklings tucked in safe on Christmas Eve,” Logan said wistfully. “I hope we don’t miss it.”
“One thing at a time, baby. We’ll get there. Now, go do that five-finger discount you do so well and meet me at the bike,” he said as he threw a few things in a backpack. They’d need to travel light, so he kept it to only the barest of necessities. “Hey, you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“Kodiak…” she said on a heavy exhale. “I’ve got this. And if you come with me, there’s more risk for a confrontation. With bullets. Listen, I’ll be in and out, you’ll hardly know I’m gone, and he sure as hell will never know I was even there. Seriously.”
It was hard for Kodiak to let her step into danger on her own, but Logan cut him some slack because she knew that he believed she could handle it. It was just the principle of the thing that tripped him up. He was a very protective husband who, nonetheless, thought the Journalism student he had met and married was a total badass. But, still, there it was. Husband. Wife. It made things difficult when shit got real, like right now.
“Kodiak, I can handle this,” she reassured him quietly.
A brief nod, then, “I know.” He clasped the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Be. Careful. I’ll be nearby, watching over you. Don’t take a second more than you have to, then get the hell out of there with that diamond and get your ass on the back of my bike. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, giving the nape of her neck a light squeeze. “I love you and when all this is over, you and I are getting serious about making some twins of our own. Like, the second we’re alone.”
“Why not triplets? If you’re going to dream, dream big, right? And I love you, too.”
Logan slipped out of the tent and moved silently through the darkness on her way to Lucca’s tent on the edge of the camp. The next five minutes had to go flawlessly. There was no room for error. She was certain he had the diamond in the front pocket of that backpack.
There was little that got past Logan. She was known for spotting card counters at the Bratva gambling house. At first, it had bothered her to know she was responsible for someone incurring the Pakhan’s wrath, but over time she had accepted that it was the natural order of things. Guilt was an indulgence that could make you sloppy. It could get you killed. So, Logan had adapted. Her father’s gambling habit had taught her the fine art of sleight of hand. She also understood that mobsters and casinos went together so adjusting to her new life had been relatively easy.
She was banking on Lucca sleeping soundly after a night of drinking by the campfire with Marco. The jungle could be boring and, when it came to blowing off steam, booze was the only game in town.
She stood outside his tent and listened to him snoring. So far, so good. With trembling fingers, she slowly unzipped the tent flap. The sound of the zipper seemed magnified in her ears and she could feel the familiar adrenalin rush that always came with stealing.
Her father had insisted she be adept at sleight of hand, perhaps intending to groom her for a life of gambling at his side. Whatever his intentions had been, she was a pro. She could remove a watch or a necklace and the wearer was none the wiser. Glazov didn’t always resort to violence when collecting on a debt, and he wasn’t shy about using Logan to secure property to clear the debt. The way she saw things now, these two men shouldn’t have been so foolish, especially now that the Pakhan was involved. If he used her as the hand of justice, it was an honor.
Lucca stirred in his sleep and she went completely still, just listening to him breathe. When the snoring resumed, she entered the tent. She crawled over to the backpack he had tossed haphazardly into a corner. The guy obviously had no appreciation for the canary diamond he had snatched. Fuck! Another fucking zipper. She considered just taking the whole backpack but didn’t want the excess weight to slow her down when she made her getaway.
She eased the zipper open and, sure enough, there was the box she had been told to look for. It opened easily and there she was, in all her luminous yellow glory: Canary Chaos.
Logan stood up and panicked as a wave of dizziness rolled over her. The lightheadedness soon dissipated and she slipped back out through the tent opening. In the interests of time, she didn’t bother to zip the flap shut. Steady now, almost home-free.
As she tiptoed away from the tent, she secured the small box inside her fanny pack, then zipped it closed with a silent sigh of relief. At long last, the canary diamond was on its way home.
She was beaming as she hurried across the campsite toward Kodiak, but he wasn’t smiling back. That’s when the world went into slow motion.