Winter held no meaning in Panama's tropical embrace. The stifling heat pressed down on everything, made worse by the crushing humidity that seemed to squeeze the air from their lungs. James could feel his tactical gear sticking to his skin, soaked through with sweat and moisture. At least the merciless sun wasn't bzing down on them; thick clouds had swallowed it whole, casting everything in gray. The rain was beating aggressively against the car's windshield as they sped through the rough roads of the Capira District.

  “Go faster,” Bke growled from the passenger seat. “We can’t let them reach the main road.”

  “?Mierda!” Ramirez cursed. He was already pressing the gas pedal with all his strength. But their car was mini, quickly procured, local, one that would blend in – not be used in a chase. “It’s not formu 1!”

  James sat in the back, leaning forward between the front seats so he could see the road and the white van speeding in front of them. Each hard turn threw him to one side. When they entered another curve, he nded on the car door. That’s when he noticed something. He pressed his forehead against the gss, observing the surroundings to their right.

  "Wait," he said, pulling back from the window. "There's a dirt road through that forest. It cuts straight through while the main road curves around." He pointed to a narrow gap between the trees. "If we take it now, we can intercept them before they hit the highway."

  Ramirez gnced at the forest path. "You sure about this? Looks barely wide enough for a bicycle."

  “Do it,” Bke ordered. "At this rate, we're not going to outspeed them anyway."

  Ramirez hesitated for only a fraction of a second before wrenching the wheel hard to the right. The car lurched off the paved road and onto the dirt path, bouncing violently. James braced himself against the seats.

  “?Dios mío!” Ramirez shouted. “That was a terrible idea!” He winced as one of the thicker branches knocked out their mirror.

  After another few seconds of riding like on the jumping cart they burst from the forest in a spray of dirt and gravel, tires finding purchase on pavement once again. Ramirez brought them parallel to the main road just as the van came barreling around the curve.

  The two vehicles raced side by side down the narrow road. The white Ford swerved towards them, metal scraping against metal with a screech that set their teeth on edge.

  "They're trying to run us off!" Ramirez shouted, wrestling with the steering wheel to maintain control.

  Bke pulled his gun, ready to fire, but hesitated as the cars jostled violently. If timed wrong, he could accidentally shoot Ramirez.

  James shifted his position. Up ahead, the road narrowed as it approached a sharp curve, a guardrail on one side and a steep drop on the other. There wasn't room for both vehicles to pass side by side. And they didn’t stand a chance in a csh with a massive car.

  If they would lose them… No, they couldn’t. It would mean 6 months of intelligence gathering wasted. They needed that data drive.

  “Bke, I’m about to do something stupid,” he informed casually.

  Bke sharply turned around just to see James already half-way through the window. He attempted to grab his leg, but the younger man slipped out before he could react.

  “Get the hell back in the car!”

  "?Estás loco!" Ramirez shouted, but kept the car steady.

  James pretended not to hear them over the rushing wind as he pulled himself onto the roof of their speeding car. He fttened himself against the metal. The cars swayed dangerously close, then apart, then close again. The curve was approaching fast. It was now or never.

  He took a deep breath and lunged at the enemy car.

  He managed to grab onto the roof rail, smming into the passenger door. The driver sensed the additional weight and jerked the wheel hard left, trying to crush James between the vehicles. James pulled himself up, scrambling onto the roof just as the van clipped their mini-car's front bumper.

  The sudden impact just before a curve caused the small vehicle to lose traction on the slippery surface and skid. Even Ramirez's incredible driving skills couldn't help them stay on course; they were thrown sideways, doing a 180-degree turn and ending up facing backwards.

  James looked back at them, then focused on what he needed to do. The sunroof. That was his way in.

  The highway was approaching fast. Wind whipped at his clothes, threatening to tear him from the roof. James reached for his belt, unclipping the metal buckle. With a swift movement, he smmed the edge against the corner of the sunroof. Cracks appeared.

  One more hit and the gss shattered inward. James fell inside. “Hi fels!”

  He narrowly dodged the first bullet. Lucky for him, the man sitting on the back had a terrible aim. The car swerved wildly, throwing him against the door. Three men. Driver, passenger, and the shooter in the back. They were all screaming at each other in Spanish.

  "?Mátalo! ?Mátalo!"

  James lunged at the gunman in the back seat. He caught the man's wrist, twisting it sharply until the weapon cttered to the floor, then he delivered a powerful elbow strike to his sor plexus. The passenger in front swung around, brandishing a knife, but James was faster. He grabbed the headrest, using it as leverage to deliver a powerful kick to the man's face which knocked him unconscious.

  In the meantime, the other man recovered. James didn’t manage to avoid the hands grasping for his throat. In the confined space, precise movements were nearly impossible. He tried to break free, but the man was stronger. In the st ditch effort, James’ leg kicked opponent under the stomach, hitting his… well, it worked. The tightness around his throat disappeared and James desperately gasped for air.

  The driver was shouting frantically, unintentionally weaving the car as he tried to maintain control while gncing back at the chaos. James spotted what they'd come for – a small metal container plugged into a ptop on the passenger seat, a progress bar on the screen nearly complete. He snatched it, disconnecting it mid-transfer.

  The driver reached for the gun, but James was faster, catching his hand and swinging it upward. The shot went through the roof of the car.

  “Come on man,” James grunted. “It was already destroyed.”

  As he struggled with the man, James involuntarily gnced at the road. Incoming curve was a sharp bend with nothing but guardrail between the road and a huge drop, from the look of it. The driver aimed straight for it. He wasn’t pnning to brake.

  James pushed away, clutched the metal container tightly, kicked open the passenger door, and without giving himself time to reconsider, hurled himself from the speeding vehicle.

  Geronimo.

  Earth and sky swapped pces. James tucked his body, trying to angle toward the grassy embankment rather than the unforgiving concrete. The momentum carried him into a chaotic roll down the slope. Pain exploded through his left arm as it twisted unnaturally beneath him, and his head smmed against something hard.

  The world kept spinning long after he came to a stop on the wet ground. Sprawled on his back, he felt soothing, cold raindrops falling on his face. The sky above him had taken on a strange yellow tinge. Was it sunset already? No, that couldn't be right.

  Distant sounds of screeching tires and shouts reached him. They were muffled, as if he was underwater, but at the same time loud enough to make his head hurt. With supreme effort, James uncurled his right hand, making sure the data container was still there. It was. Small, metallic, and slightly warm to the touch. Intact. Good.

  “—alive! James!” He recognized Ramirez’s voice, getting closer. “Dios mío…”

  “Status!” Bke barked, immediately setting to check his pulse.

  “Secured,” James slurred, raising his trembling right hand holding a metal container and even managing a weak smile. “Data drive… undamaged.”

  “?Idiota!” Ramirez shouted, kneeling beside him on the other side. “He’s asking about your status, not the damn drive’s!”

  “Oh,” James mumbled weakly, not sure what else to say. He slightly shifted his head towards Bke, observing the hovering face of his one-eyed companion with a detached fascination. Eyelids set higher than usual, brows furrowed, but not quite in anger. There was something familiar about his expression, but James couldn’t pce it. It never occurred to him that what he was seeing was worry.

  Bke's fingers moved carefully along James' scalp, gently probing it. When they reached the back of his head, James felt a sharp pain that cut through his foggy consciousness, making him wince involuntarily.

  “Head trauma,” Bke muttered.

  Ramirez leaned forward, entering James' narrowing field of vision. He held up his hand directly in front of his eyes. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

  James stared at the blurry shapes hovering before him. He blinked slowly, trying to make them resolve into something recognizable. They wavered and multiplied, then shrunk again, dancing before his eyes. Everything looked so…

  “Yellow,” he replied confidently, not understanding why the man looked so armed at his response.

  Bke and Ramirez exchanged a look over him, which in other circumstances he would probably find funny. He saw Ramirez's lips moving, heard fragments of rapid Spanish, caught Bke's curt nod. They seemed to be discussing something important, but James couldn't hold onto the thread of their conversation. The world faded to bck.