Daisy's Glock pressed harder into Jack's carotid. "Release." The command carried Navy SEAL finality.
Jack's grip evaporated. I rolled clear, lunging for the weapon. Daisy pivoted, keeping the firearm beyond reach as Jack fled into mangroves.
"God damn it!" My breaching axe split a coconut in cathartic fury. Daisy's fingers traced the GPS coordinates branded on her forearm - our silent pact.
"Collateral damage." She holstered the weapon, split lip forming the words with painful precision. The fading prison tattoo on Jack's neck matched coordinates from the stolen transponder.
We returned to find Kate nibbling bluefin sashimi off my KA-BAR. Emma's Valentino sandal kicked coral dust. "Where's mine?"
"Medical protocol." I adjusted Kate's improvised IV drip - vodka and electrolyte powder. "She needs protein density."
Emma's Cartier bracelet clattered against the survival radio carcass. "Bullshit medical protocol. You're fucking her."
The accusation hung like smoke from our signal fire. Kate's trembling fingers found my combat belt. "David...they're planning..."
Daisy's sudden hand signal froze the confession.
The ambush came at moonrise. Emma's "bath time" ruse lured me into palm groves where Jack's glass spear awaited. My paratrooper knife deflected the first thrust, steel sparking against aircraft debris.
"Conscience getting heavy, Boy Scout?" Jack's prison tattoos rippled in firelight. "Should've taken my deal."
Daisy's suppressed round burrowed into sand between us. Her NVGs glinted from the treetop overwatch position.
Back at camp, Kate's confession spilled through chattering teeth: "Overheard their comms...Jack's got a raft..."
The confrontation unfolded like CIA interrogation playbook. Emma entered the kill zone with Margiela sunglasses and lies. "He forced me!"
I ejected the Glock's magazine with theatrical slowness. "Funny how coercion leaves no bruises."
Her Oscar-worthy mask slipped. "You think survival has morality clauses?" The concealed shiv in her Hermès scarf proved more honest than words.
Daisy's combat boot pinned the weapon to sand.
Nightwatch brought encrypted truths. Emma's thermal signature merged with Jack's near the fuel dump. Daisy's sniper nest provided overwatch as I rigged C4 to the raft's inflation valves.
When the explosion lit the cove, Kate's fingers dug into my ballistic plate. "Was this necessary?"
Daisy answered by racking her SCAR-H. The burning raft cast hellish shadows on her face - judge, jury, and special forces executioner.