Juan stood in the forward compartment of Valerón"s jet boat with his face into the driving rain. Steering the boat was a towering bearded man. Juan ran his hand over his face, mopping the rain away, and eyed Filipe, whom he had grown up with in Lima.
Like Juan, the battle-hardened giant had witnessed the decimation of his family from tuberculosis. And like Juan, the man had felt the touch of hunger from months of living on the narrow, dirt streets above Villa El Salvador. The man knew where Juan had come from, and had spent years with him on the river and in the forests of Peru. He was the one man Juan could count on in a tight spot.
He turned and passed a measured gaze over the wet, sullen faces staring back from under their rain ponchos. Recruited by Valderón, these eight privileged so
