Chapter Seven

Fallon took a patch of gauze and wiped the sweat from Frank's face.  "He's burning up, but we can't risk giving him anything else.  Pit viper venom is a hemotoxin," she explained as Jake shot her a questioning look.  "It corrupts blood cells, prevents blood from clotting, damages the vessels and causes them to leak.  It can cause internal bleeding, heart, respiratory and kidney failure.  We just have to pray his body is strong enough and the anti-venom does its job."  That was what worried her the most.  Would he be strong enough to fight for his life after going through all that agonizing torture?

"You a doctor or something?" Jake questioned.

"No, but I did my research on this place.  I wanted to be prepared," she explained.

"How long before we know if he'll be all right?"

"Twenty-four hours, maybe."  She shrugged, continuing to dab the sweat from Frank's face.  "And he has to remain immobile."

"We can't stay here," Jake said, throwing up his hands. 

"No, really?" she replied, sarcastically.  "Help me get him over my shoulder so I can carry him back to that little shack you were staying at."

"I'll carry him," Jake said, stubbornly. 

"Yeah, right...your leg barely supports you," she reminded him.  "You're as stubborn as he is.  Help get him over my shoulder; I can carry him.  You just keep a clear path for me to walk, okay?"

Jake nodded reluctantly as he helped get Frank to his feet.  Fallon leaned over and took him at the waist over her right shoulder and slowly stood, holding him by his legs.  He groaned audibly as he dangled precariously over her shoulder, his upper torso so long his head rested against her buttocks and his arms dangled with his hands nearly touching the ground.

"You okay?" Jake asked, seeing her struggle with Frank's weight.

"Yeah," she grunted and began the slow trek back to the shack.

Fallon labored through the underbrush, grimacing as she moved over the terrain.  Each step was painful, punctuated by the additional weight she carried.  Once she stubbed her toes again a tree root and nearly fell to the ground.  Thankfully Jake was only a couple steps in front of her and turned quickly to catch her and help keep her and Frank upright.

"Remind me to tell Donovan to go on a diet," she joked with a painful groan, stepping on a large pebble.

"No way.  You don't fuck with that guy," he stated flatly.

"Gee, too bad.  I would think that would be one thing he'd be excellent at."

Jake stopped in his tracks and shot her a look.  "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Sure, why else would I be a DEA agent?" she replied with a labored smirk.  "Thank God!" she exclaimed, seeing the shack. 

Once inside, Jake helped her lay Frank on the small couch.  His long body didn't fit and his legs dangled over the end.  His face had become flush with color from the blood rushing to his head and Fallon worried about how much harm the trek had done to him.  "We'll need to prop him up, his leg should be kept lower than his heart." 

"Hold on, I'll move him," Jake said, repositioning Frank so that he reclined on the couch and his legs rested outstretched in front of him.

"Are there any provisions in this house?  Blankets? Anything?" she asked, glancing around.

"Not much.  There are a couple cots in the other room; I'll go check."  He came back moments later with a worn blanket and a small pillow. 

"Thanks," she said, tucking the pillow under Frank's head and covering him with the blanket.  "Now, all we can do is keep him comfortable and wait."

"We can't stay here." 

"He shouldn't be moved.  Carrying him this far might have done irrevocable damage," she explained.  "Besides, I can't carry him to Bogotá."

"You won't have to if we can get him to the Hummer.  It's stashed about three miles from here," he explained as he seated himself in a nearby chair.  "If we could fashion some kind of stretcher to carry him..."

Fallon nodded, as she touched her hand to Frank's forehead.  His skin felt like it was on fire.  "It would be slow going, but better than being a sitting duck.  Roberto and Jorge must have discovered us missing by now."

"Roberto?" Jake asked. 

"Uribe," she said, moving past Jake into the small kitchen.

"As in Armando?"

"Yes, his younger brother.  He conned me...I thought he was an underling that wanted to help bring Jorge Espinosa down.  Jorge was just the front man.  Roberto was the one in charge.  It was all a set up to capture an agent and exchange their life for setting Donovan up."  She knelt by the couch with a basin of water she had just filled in the kitchen and took the gauze, wet it and began to bath his face.

"Holy shit."

"Yes, holy shit," Fallon smirked.  "What I'd like to know is...who is the asshole who arranged the switch?"

Jake shrugged.  "We were contacted by Tom Renquist." 

Fallon's head shot up quickly to stare at him.  "Renquist isn't DEA...he's CIA."

"Whatever.  He was adamant that we were under orders to extract you."  Jake stood and limped into the room that served as a bedroom.  "Hey!  I could collapse one of these cots and make a stretcher from that."

"Sure, Jake.  Sounds good," she agreed, distracted by the news Jake had just delivered.  Why would he agree to it? She wondered as she struggled to take the sweater off of Donovan to bathe his chest.  She wrung out the gauze and swabbed his chest and shoulders gently.  Even though her thoughts about Renquist troubled her, she could not help running her fingers lightly over the agent's well formed chest.  "My, but you're beautiful," she whispered, as she touched her fingertips to his full lower lip.

Donovan moaned and she pulled her hand away, embarrassed.  Jake returned carrying one of the cots he mentioned.  Its legs were folded under and he had tied them in place with some twine he had found.  "We can carry him on this," he stated proudly.

Fallon pulled the blanket up to cover Donovan's bare chest.  "Yes, that should work.  We'll leave as soon as I do something about my feet.  Are there any more blankets?"

Jake shook his head.  "One blanket...one pillow.  There's nothing else in this dump."

Fallon nodded and walked over to Jake and grabbed his shirtsleeves at the shoulder and tugged violently, ripping the sleeves off.  "Hey!" he shouted.  "What'd ya do that for?"

"I need to wrap my feet...they're tore to shreds," she explained, opening the first aid kit and removing the antiseptic. 

"Oh," he replied, watching her clean her wounded feet with the antiseptic before wrapping them with his shirtsleeves. 

"At least I'll have a little barrier between my skin and the ground," she said with a smirk.  "Let's get the big guy outta here." 

Jake laid the makeshift stretcher beside the couch and they lifted him from it onto the stretcher.  Fallon went to the door and opened it, gasped and shut it quickly.

"What is it?" Jake asked.

"Roberto and his men...they found us," she replied, backing up against the door.