Free Jungle of Deceit by Maureen A. Miller Page B

be rewarded.”
    A voice barked from behind the door, prompting it to swing open. The guns withdrew and Alex saw the sweet promise of shelter only a foot away. She wasted no time and waved her hand. Several team members charged into that entryway as if her hand represented the voice of God.
    After everyone had shuffled by, Alex searched her periphery. The sound of the fire would forever haunt her. Only a few feet away stood a smoldering wall of what was once flourishing vegetation. This monster had consumed and destroyed everything in its path. Everything. Where was Mitch?
    “ Alex,” Wes called.
    Her head jerked. On feet hindered by apprehension, she stepped through the gate.
    ***
    Behind her, the metal bars slid shut with an ominous clang of captivity. Alex’s vision was blurred so she closed her eyes and relied on sound. The resonance of her men−grunts of fatigue and fear mingled with their chorus of coughs. Some of the men commented on the fire. Some spoke of their homes.
    A voice of authority boomed above the hum. Guttural Latin commands fired in rapid succession and the armed men leapt in response. Men flocked metal stairways, scaling to the top of the wall where they unfurled fire hoses from their reels, the rubber tubes now plump with water.
    “ It will be alright, Señorita.”
    Alex looked up startled by the close proximity of the voice.
    “ You and your men will be safe here. These walls are impenetrable to fire.”
    She stared at the back of the man’s head. He was looking away, engaged by the men spraying water off the ramparts. “We excavated the perimeter several years ago so that the tree line is recessed,” he turned around and she caught a mouthful of white teeth against a backdrop of bronze skin and black stubble. “No worries.”
    “ My team will help.” Her eye itched. “We will work for the safety you have provided.”
    He waved in dismissal and managed a genial snort. “Not necessary.”
    As he analyzed the group of archeologists, Alex was allowed a better glimpse of his profile. The stubble seemed perfect, like a meticulous effort to appear unshaven. His black hair was short and neat, and it shined from hair gel. He stood a few inches shy of six feet and wore a white button-down cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Rounding off the outfit were tan dress slacks and leather shoes. The attire seemed preposterous for this venue. Under all the fancy clothes, Alex could make out the body of a weightlifter. Her glance lifted just in time to collide with his, and below his thick winged eyebrows she sensed shrewdness behind his eyes.
    “ These men…” he nodded at her students, “−need water and rest. Follow me and I’ll see you get both.”
    He started to turn away but cracked a grin and held out his hand. “Lo siento. I’m sorry. I am Miguel Eduardo Solis.” The last word was phrased with an evocative roll as So-leeeeeeese . “And you are Señorita—?”
    “ Langley.” Alex glanced at the clean hand extended towards her and then down at her own soiled fingers. “Alexandra Langley.”
    There it was again−a sharp glint in eyes that resembled a jaguar’s. The polished veneer of Miguel Eduardo Solis seemed like camouflage and his eyes were portals to the cunning creature that lurked inside. She felt uneasy. The look he gave her indicated that her name had struck a chord.
    Miguel smiled again. “Everyone is safe. All your men are accounted for. There is no need for the frown, Señorita…” he hesitated, “−Langley.”
    All, except for Mitch .
    Her chest tightened, but Wes had her by the shoulder. “Come on, Alex. You need water. There’s crap in your eyes. Let’s go wash them out.”
    Falling in behind her group who were being lead by the suave Pied Piper, Alex examined their environment. Just inside the gate, a barrier fortified by horizontal metal bars could likely impede a charging herd of elephants. As she searched the span of the wall, one corner was visible, but