by Gennita Low
He took a drink of water, studying her. “This is food, not art. It’s to fill my stomach. I enjoy what I eat and then move on. What’s wrong with that?”
Surya cocked her head, her dark hair now back in a loose chignon, exposing that lovely neck that he’d been thinking of biting. Now, that he would savor. But he mustn’t think of tasting her right now.
“You sound like a clockwork robot. How very boring. I’m going to have to loosen you up a little so you don’t turn into a stuffy old shirt.” She waved her fork at him. “It takes time and creativity to make a really good meal, you know. You didn’t even stop to admire this beautiful table of food. I mean, you just attacked it like you’re starving or something.”
Kirk sat back in his chair. “I am starving,” he said softly. “I’ve been starving—for answers from a certain woman, from frustration at not finding said woman. And then, when I do find her, I’m starved of time because there’s this little emergency with hostages and a missile. So, my dilemma is, do I devour her quickly or do I keep her for later to enjoy? The thing is, she might disappear again, so what do I do?”
A hint of pink stained her dusky cheeks. She rested her chin on steepled fingers and they stared at each other like opponents.
“Are you suggesting that I am food?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Good food. You disappeared like really good food.”
She blinked. “I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment. The way you were treating really good food just now tells me you don’t care what you eat.” She waved a hand when he tried to interrupt. “Yes, I know we have a big job ahead of us and you’re in a hurry.”
“No, I’m saying I don’t want you gone like a puff of smoke when we’re done,” he said. “I want you to be here at the end. Like dessert. I love dessert.”
Her smile returned and those dark eyes gleamed back with laughter. “You know, maybe I was wrong. You do know how to eat right.”
“Is it a deal?”
“What, about me being dessert? Oh, you mean disappearing on you.” She rolled her eyes. “I paid for this suite with my own hard-earned money. I’m not going to let a stupid missile interrupt my dream vacation.”
Her odd sense of humor was what had attracted him when they met. She had a hilarious way of seeing everything revolving around her. Of course a missile wasn’t going to stop her dream vacation.
“I’m glad you’ve got your priorities straight,” Kirk noted dryly.
“Well, hey, look who’s talking priorities. You want good dessert. I want a dream vacation.”
They grinned at each other over the table, like kids playing silly games. He felt strangely light, as if a burden he’d been carrying had been lifted.
“So let’s get this operation taken care of,” he said. “I need an interpreter because my contacts have located a few locals who smuggle certain things into the forest. They’re willing to talk but their dialect makes it difficult for quick questions about unusual activities.”
“Not a problem. Jade brought me up to date with relevant details. I also made a few inquiries and found out why I’m needed when MacKenzie Securities has their own contractors. I’m sorry for your loss.” Surya pushed back from her chair. “When you…umm…entered your room, I was getting it ready to make sure it was secured from external frequency interference. I just need your cell phone to pair with my device so it recognizes it as one with accepted numbers it won’t jam.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve converted the TV and their cable for our video usage. You can speak to your boss without going through the channels. Ha ha, see what I did there?”
Shaking his head in amusement, Kirk stood up and followed her back to his room. She opened his closet and pulled out a small bag and he couldn’t help admiring her cute ass as she headed for his bed. She turned, a little sly smile on her face.
“Bad idea. Let’s go to your desk.”
“You’re such an imp.”
“I know.”
She opened the bag, taking out folders, small devices, and a laptop. His gaze rested on the small pieces of firearms.
“These have been tested. GPS units, walkie-talkies, receivers, compasses…and other stuff.”
“Those small weapons won’t be enough.” They weren’t going to fight the SEALs and their mercenaries, of course, but still, if they were caught in a battle, they weren’t going to last very long with what she had in that bag. It did tell him she was comfortable with weapons, though.
“Bigger fire power on the way.”
“How about a guide into the jungle, if needed?”
“I’ve hired a Malaysian man. He knows his way around.”
“Do you personally know him?”
“Yes,” she affirmed, “and I trust him.”
“Can I meet with him?”
“Later, after you’ve talked to your locals.” A small dimple appeared in her left cheek. “Gasi doesn’t talk much but likes to eat, so if you’re going to loosen his tongue, you’d better be buying a meal.”
“Gasi,” Kirk repeated.
“Short for Gergasi, which means giant.” Surya casually assembled one of the small firearms into a more impressive one with what looked like plastic pieces. She tossed it at him and he caught it mid-air, testing its impressive lightness. She handed him one of the various parts on the table and at his soft whistle, she added, “Plastic guns. Hard to detect. 3-D printers are amazing and dangerous things.”
“There’s a lot more security because of the VIPs,” he noted.
“Yeah. We have to be careful. These—” She pulled out more stuff. “—are our carrying cases.”
Kirk examined them. “I hope the tampon box isn’t for me,” he deadpanned. “It’d seem odd when they pat me down and find it.”
Surya showed him how the small gun fit into a fake bottom. “I suppose you can have the macho Batman drinking bottle,” she said. “Now, a quick change of clothes and we’re ready for our first tour.”
“Should I arrange for a driver or have you taken care of that?”
“I’m driving.”
He thought of the crazy traffic he’d experienced on the way from the airport. Those drivers were out and out nuts. “Nuh-uh. No way. I’m not putting my life in your hands out there.”
She sniffed. “Don’t be such a baby. Get changed and bring your baby bottle.”
He snorted at her mockery. “Just don’t drive like you have PMS,” he retorted.
She laughed as she left his room. “Everybody here drives like they have PMS.”
Kirk was afraid of that.
* * * *
Forty-five minutes later
Death by gun-toting hostiles sounded less frightening by the minute. These roads were a death trap, driven by people who seemed to think they were navigating bumper cars. He could feel the tension stretching across his shoulders and down his lower back as Surya swerved left to avoid a scooter, then right to keep from hitting an oncoming lorry. Nobody honked. Everyone was waving to each other.
“Driving Kirk Ryan, lalalalala. I think we should make a movie of that, with you gripping onto the dashboard with eyes as big as saucers while your female driver points out the beautiful sights in Bali. Look, to your left is—”
“Keep your eyes on the road!” Kirk gritted out.
“But I’m supposed to be showing you around,” she protested. “You’re missing the sights, with your face pressed against the windshield like that.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have let you drive,” he muttered. He glanced over at her quickly. “I was listening to the instructions given by the concierge. All he said was “pooka” this and “poosing” that. There were no road names mentioned. How do you know you’re going the right way?”
She shrugged. “I’m used to it here. It’s spelled with a ‘u’. ‘Pusing’ means ‘turn’. He was saying ‘puka’, which is short for ‘pusing kanan’, to turn right. ‘Pusing kiri’ means to ‘turn left’. He was quite clear.”
“So he was just going ‘go right’ and ‘go left’? That’s ridiculous. We’ll never get to the meeting place in the village this way.” He could just see it now, reporting back to HQ and Declan he’d gotten lost and didn’t have any information at all. “Surya—”
“Relax,” she said in a soothing voice, which irritated him even more. “I got this.”
“Surya!”
Kirk could only point at the car backing out of the driveway without stopping. He expelled a long string of expletives as he wiped the bead of sweat off his brow when Surya braked in time. It’d been a while since he’d used such language in front of anyone, especially a woman. After the offending car backed out and went its merry way, with the fucking driver waving at Surya, who waved back, he spat out a few more choice words, which earned him a laugh from the crazy woman beside him.
“You’re turning me on, babe, with all those promises of fucking,” she said. “Promise you’ll give me some of that?”
She was such a tease. “How do you say turn around? ‘Pusing’…what?”
Her forehead creased. “Why? Do you want me to turn the car around? Come on, we’re almost there!”
“No, I want to say that in bed when we’re fucking,” he told her and smiled in satisfaction at her reaction. Two could play at teasing. “Well?”
“Just ‘pusing’ will do.” She slanted him a look. “There’s a small dialogue book in the door. Why don’t you try learning a few phrases?”
He’d heard that GEM agents had a unique way of distracting their targets and getting them to do what they wanted. Just like that, Surya had provided him with a diversion from the madness on the road. For the next ten miles, he amused himself and her by reading phrases out loud, with her correcting his pronunciation. He knew she’d deliberately suggested the book to put him back on track. He liked to focus on something, to be in control of a situation by paying attention. She understood this about him, that being a troubleshooter, he didn’t like not being able to fix a situation. Like watching people trying to kill each other on a road. Like feeling helpless a few days ago about the grief and anger enveloping the MacKenzies until this assignment offered him a way to put things right.
He liked that she understood this about him. It meant she’d been watching and had cared enough to notice. He made a note to monitor her closely, so he too would understand the stuff that made her tick. And oh, so she couldn’t run off on him again as well.
* * * *
Surya snuck a peek at Kirk. He had that look on his face again. Total concentration, deep in thought. That look had both intrigued and frustrated her. She wanted that concentration on her, not some stupid problem he was trying to solve. On the other hand, she was afraid of that kind of attention because a man like that would take her apart and look too deeply. She could see it in the way he tackled a problem, in the care he took to get things done. He might be a CIA troubleshooter, but after reading up on the GEM files on him, she’d concluded Kirk Ryan was more just a CIA troubleshooter. He liked to fix problems to make people happy.
Like this assignment. She was sure he wasn’t in it for money or for duty to the MacKenzies. Yes, he probably was after the bad guys with some revenge in mind, because this was a family tragedy, after all. However, there was a part of him—that deep focus—which was more interested in justice than the violence of revenge. Kirk liked to right a wrong. A fixer indeed.
Mary MacKenzie, from all accounts, sounded like someone well loved by all who entered her world. Kirk had given little snatches of details, enough for her to see how much he cared for his aunt-in-law. A beloved mother figure. That was such a strange notion in her world. Her family of sister-operatives was composed of independent creatures like her, brought together through the bond of being orphans, vagabonds and abandoned kids.
To have Kirk see and know her well meant exposing all her vulnerable parts. Surya shivered at the idea. She wasn’t sure she wanted to share that much of herself. Yet, all that determined focus on her, giving her what she needed, just like that kiss earlier… Oh, boy, she really had it bad. She was thinking too much about the man.
“Toonju kan sayer mana?” Kirk interrupted her reverie. “Point where? Map is peter?”
“It’s tunjukan. Show me where. Tunjukan saya mana?” she corrected. He was learning directions to get ready for his meeting with Gasi. She grinned. Yeah, total focus. “Peta, not peter. You’re doing okay. How about a sentence?”
“Okay,” he said, not looking up from his phrase book. “How much longer to the village?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Lima belas,” he said in Malay.
“Not like lima beans. It’s pronounced lee-ma. Lima belas minit.”
“Toonju-kan saya peter dimana lima belas minit. You’re laughing. What’s so funny? I asked you to show me on the map where we are in fifteen minutes.”
Surya laughed so hard, she had to slow down to wipe the tears from her eyes. Fortunately, the road had very few cars at the moment.
“No, you asked me to show you where your peter is going in fifteen minutes,” she told him, then broke out in merriment again.
After a moment, he joined her, his deep male laughter filling the car. It felt good to laugh together. It never ceased to surprise her how comfortable she was with him. Sure, there was that delicious sexual tension, of being aware of, and attracted to, a fine male specimen. And he was fine—six foot two, lean and hard-bodied, with that nice, easy smile and those deep-set, knowing blue eyes which were always assessing. He wore that easy demeanor she’d seen in psychologists and scammers—the one that engaged people in conversations to reveal clues about themselves. She was sure he saw himself more the former than the latter, but his job as a troubleshooter must include a few scams here and there.
But even knowing he was analyzing her didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was the challenge to keep him guessing. Maybe it was the attraction—that determined glint she caught in his eyes now and then was thrilling and a little scary. She wasn’t sure what she really wanted with this man. Her lifestyle since joining GEM had been simple—living the high life was way better than living on the streets. It was her mantra. She didn’t mind the dangerous situations—hell, she’d grown up fending for herself in the most dangerous places—but now she had money and security. Now, when she wanted to, she could join her GEM sisters for family-type excursions. Now, she could save money and, if she wanted to, she could spend it on holiday pampering, fulfilling her need to live in luxury.
It’d been years since her days scampering in the dirt, digging through the mountainous piles of trash for her next meal, and finding shelter away from the street gangs. But a part of her was still that child, one who dreamed about living the life she now had. And Surya liked pampering that little wild girl. She glanced at the man beside her again. A relationship with him promised to be complicated and she wasn’t sure whether she was ready to drop her mantra.
“We’re here,” she told him, navigating the car into a dusty side street. “What did your contacts tell you to do?”
“The two villagers will see us inside one of the shops. Here’s the name of the place. I’m assuming there is some sort of downtown-type area where the shops are located?”
Surya looked at the paper. “This village is in the interior of Bali by the rainforest. Says here to go into the shops and ask for directions to another village. Okay, I know where it’s referring to. There’s the most magnificent rainforest resort in the other place, so everyone would be used to visitors dropping by asking questions or directions.”
“Okay. What’s the name of the resort?”
“Awang Awang. It’s amazing.” Surya sighed. Now, that was where she should spend her next vacation. “It’s totally set up in the mountains looking down at the rainforests. It’s a dream place if you want to escape from the usual hustle and bustle.”
Kirk frowned. “No wonder my contacts brought that to my attention. If it’s a touristy mecca, why would these v
illagers notice any unusual activities with strangers? There would be plenty of people making trips into the rainforests, right?” He stroked his chin. “Hmm. You’d think Bali jungles would be the last place for a terrorist hideout. They’re usually deep in the Sulawesi islands.”
Surya parked the car on a street corner. “Well, these aren’t just terrorists,” she pointed out. “They are Caucasians walking in and out of the rainforest. Your bad SEALs and turncoat operatives wouldn’t look too suspicious hiking around the fabulous resort.”
“Good point.” He opened the car door. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
* * * *
Not far away
“Vadim, we heard Petrovich is dead.” Mark Walters didn’t add he was glad the bastard was dead. He loosened his grip on his cell phone, trying not to betray his tension. “They got Holland.”
“Do you think I wouldn’t know about this?”
“Holland is going to name names. MacKenzie’s going to send his men after us.”
He knew he was up shit creek. It didn’t matter. It was over for him, but he needed to make sure his family was taken care of. Petrovich had had him in a stranglehold, but with him dead, there was hope Vadim would be a bit more humane. He closed his eyes. His beautiful wife and his baby.
“We’re keeping an eye on such matters,” Vadim replied. “We’ve got people inside, you know. Holland isn’t sure of our other insiders, so you’re safe for now. They’re busy grieving. If they make a move, we’ll just kill another one of them. We’ll keep them busy with funerals.”
The cold laughter that followed the threat made him swallow. Him, a SEAL. He was supposed to be the warrior here, and yet these fucking men had reduced him to a frightened man, unable to think, by killing the people close to him.
“Look, that’s all fine, but the five of us aren’t going to be able to keep these fucking militants from shooting that missile at the Interpol General Assembly. This whole thing went to shit with Petrovich’s death. Who’s going to pay the ransom these militants are demanding? Your people? You’ve kept us in the dark long enough. We need information to proceed.”