An hour later, northwest of the jungle in the Tame Region, near the valley leading to the Tbilisi Mountain Range.
"Colonel, are you sure they'll pass through here?"
Lucas, a member of the Green Beret Team, asked his superior, Colonel James, on the tactical channel.
"Heading south is the camp where they were originally attacked. I believe they will not go that way. To the east is Venezuela. Morins has always been on our list of terrorist leaders, which could easily lead to international disputes; thus, they can only head northwest, where the interior of the Tbilisi Mountain Range has camps of the ELN armed group."
Suddenly, thunder and lightning ripped through the sky.
The leaves around them snapped loudly.
The sky poured down heavy rain once again.
James said, "It's raining; let's be careful. Split into two groups; Lucas, you take Sonny and Robert ahead to act as the vanguard; Byron and Roger, you two cover the rear; Franklin and Weber, follow me in the middle. Once the Vanguard Team engages, the rear guard is responsible for the left flank, and I'll handle the right. We'll encircle them with the fastest speed and form a crossfire, trapping the enemy!"
"Understood!"
"Understood!"
The jungle in the Tame Region was no less challenging than any other jungle James had experienced.
In fact, the weather was very disadvantageous for James's Green Beret team. Such a place, such an environment, was truly a nightmare for soldiers.
The ground was covered with years of accumulated decayed leaves, and underneath the decayed leaves, no one knew the quality of the soil.
Any small pitfall could be dangerous when stepped on with water-filled, slippery jungle boots.
Losing balance in the wet jungle is terrifying, as it can easily cause an ankle sprain.
Therefore, everyone was extremely cautious.
James checked his watch; it was half-past eleven at night.
Having already been lying in wait here for nearly an hour, this place was the best shortcut to enter the heart of the Tbilisi Mountain Range. Other places were not impossible to traverse, but there were many cliffs and the terrain was extremely complicated. In the wild, no one wanted to take the risk of such complicated terrains, not because they might get lost, but because it was too easy to risk their lives.
The primeval jungle was a monster that devoured lives. Even experts trained in jungle warfare always held a deep respect for it.
After an hour of ambush in the valley, James finally lost his patience.
An hour was not a long time in theory.
As a veteran commander of the Special Forces, his patience was definitely not so frail.
But now, having lost the assistance of the Colombian Government Army and the Special Forces, it seemed the government had reached a tacit agreement with the armed groups, allowing them to retreat in exchange for the return of hostages and the restoration of peace in the market.
The cowards!
Colonel James cursed inwardly hundreds of times. Although he despised the Colombian government and military, he was helpless.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, some situations are just impossible to fix.
He decided not to continue lying in ambush in the valley, but instead chose to take the initiative.
Catching two targets in this primeval jungle with a small team of seven people somewhat resembled finding a needle in a haystack.
Yet James was confident in his guess; Morins and the arms dealer would definitely take this route.
Because he would have done the same.
The team now spread out in three tactical groups along the route James had marked, advancing slowly through the jungle at fifty meters apart.
The cold rain drenched everyone. James and his subordinates were soaked through, feeling water trickle down their fronts and their body temperatures gradually dropping. This sensation was very unpleasant.
The silent depths of the jungle carried various cries of wild beasts, and the monotone colors in the night vision goggles gave them a sense of exploring a tomb.
This kind of environment was extraordinarily draining on one's willpower.
James had to occasionally say a few words on the channel to boost morale.
"Stay sharp, everyone! According to my estimate, we should be close to them. Vanguard Team, especially you, Lucas, keep an eye out, and don't get taken down!"
"Understood, Colonel."
"They're only two people, and we're seven. We should have no problem dealing with them. Let's finish this quickly and aim to be back at base for a hot shower during the day and a wild party at the bar tonight!"
"Colonel... I just realized how much I miss beer, hot water, and big chunks of beef."
Roger, at the back of the team, couldn't help but say, "I've been eating MREs these past few days, and I'm about to throw up from them!"
"Hang in there! We'll be successful soon! Completing this mission will leave a glorious mark on your records, Roger, and your file still lacks some military honors."
In such times, it was important to keep the morale of his subordinates high, as anyone's mood could plummet after days in a humid jungle.
Leading the team at the very front was Sonny, holding an M249 Paratrooper Light Machine Gun. There was an advantage to having a machine gunner at the front; during an encounter, he could use rapid fire to suppress the enemy, buying time for his teammates to attack.
"Roger, do you know why you're covering the rear?"
Sonny posed a question to Roger, who was at the rear, over the channel.
Roger asked, "Why?"
"Because you're the greenest rookie in the team..."
Subdued laughter came through the channel, as clearly, many team members were holding back from bursting out laughing.
Although joking during a search could lighten the mood, it was indeed very unreasonable.
However, to the Green Berets, Morins and his companion were not considered a threat.