?Chapter 1612:


    When the long fifteen-hour flight finally ended, they stepped into Norview’s chilly air. Waiting for them beyond the terminal were two groups of people. George was among them—a burly man with a thick beard, dressed in a ck puffer jacket and a gray beanie, with his dented pickup truck parked nearby.


    “Brenna! It’s been forever! Took you long enough to remember me again!” he called out, then pulled her into a tight hug.


    A bright smile crossed Brenna’s face. She had met him years ago while studying in Norview and working part-time at his bar. Back then, he had always kept an eye out for her.


    George also dabbled in arms dealing, which was why Brenna had reached out to him for gear.


    Thiago was close to George, too. He stepped forward without hesitation and pulled George into a firm hug as well.


    Nearby stood the second group—Thiago’s contacts. They were a rough-looking band of local mercenaries, willing to take on any job as long as the pay was good.


    George motioned toward his pickup truck, ready to go pick up the gear.


    Thiago moved to a different car and unzipped his backpack. He pulled out two thick envelopes of cash and handed them to a man there. “Taylor, that’s the deposit. You’ll get another half-million once everything’s finished.”


    Taylor Cullen rarely wasted words. He moved with cold efficiency as he took the envelopes, checked the cash inside, and handed them to an associate in a businesslike way. “Mr. Monero, where are we headed this time?” he asked Thiago.


    Thiago’s voice stayed cool. “I will give you the location soon. First, we are picking up gear. Make sure your men keep their mouths shut. If anyone leaks our ns, I will make them regret it.”


    Taylor gave a sharp nod. “Understood. Same rules as before. Don’t stress about it—my team’s been through a lot with me. You can trust them.”


    No one needed to worry about lugging gear from the city.


    Brenna had already set things up before they had set off. George was waiting at the jungle’s edge with everything they’d need. All that was left was to make a quick stop and collect the supplies.


    Thiago kept things vague when he mentioned “picking up gear” to Taylor, just to keep their ns under wraps.


    Once the city faded away behind them, Brenna checked her phone. No bars—not even a flicker of signal. She didn’t panic. Instead, she pulled out a satellite phone from her bag and switched the SIM card.


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    After hours spent winding down empty roads, they reached the edge of the jungle where a lone vehicle waited.


    Each person, including Brenna, Thiago, Gary, and Felix, was handed a camouge backpack. Inside every pack sat an AK rifle with a full supply of magazines, two pistols with boxes of ammo, a handful of grenades, explosives, and an assortment of closebat weapons.


    Brenna had also insisted on medical kits, including bandages, antibiotics, and painkillers, along with enough food and water to keep them moving for days.


    A bulky duffel bagy by the rear tire, packed with extra tools.


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