“Where are your parents?” he asked gently, not sure how to handle such a small person, but needing to know what her story was.
“My dad is at war,” she replied in a surprisingly strong voice. “My mom went to the next village from ours to find work and didn’t come back.”
Her voice hitched on the last few words and she glanced away, expression twisting as though she was working hard not to cry.
“I look after myself,” she added in a very definite tone.
“How long?” Bren asked quietly, a note of disbelief in her voice.
The girl looked down at her ragged clothes, pulling at a thread that’d obviously been pulled many times before. “I’m not sure, exactly. A few months.”
Christ. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. And she’d lasted months on her own? His stomach clenched on the thought that tonight wouldn’t have been the first time she’d eaten scraps other people had thrown out.
“Was this your home?” Bren prompted, not seeming as floored by the revelation as he’d been.
“No.” She glanced around the kitchen. “My home was in the village. One day, the soldiers came and took everything from our house. I hid, because I knew if they found me, they’d send me to one of their schools, and I’d never see my mom again. Everyday I go back to the village and wait near our house.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I hope she’s not angry at me for letting the soldiers take all our things.”
Unable to help himself at the heartbreaking words, Cam took her hand. “I’m sure she’ll understand, sweetheart.”
In truth, this girl wasn’t going to see either of her parents again. He didn’t know for sure what had happened to them—the most likely scenario was that her father had died in the war, then her mother…well, who knew? There were a hundred terrible scenarios for what could have happened to her when she’d gone to find work. But the CSS wouldn’t have come and cleaned out the house unless they knew for a fact that the occupants were dead and gone.
As for this little trooper, she was lucky she hadn’t been caught and sent to one of the CSS schools for orphans, where too many of Ilari’s children had ended up. From the accounts he’d heard, those places were hell—made to work sunup to sundown, religious brainwashing, and only fed just enough to sustain them.
“What’s your name?” Bren had shuffled closer, her shoulder brushing his as she leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair back from the girl’s face.
“Neve.” The little girl sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
“Well, Neve,” he said, adding a hint of false cheeriness to his voice. “I’m Cam and this is Bren. Do you mind if we stay here a little while with you tonight?”
She shrugged, but he could see the smallest flicker of hope in her eyes. “Do you have anything else to eat?”
He laughed, glancing at Bren, who seemed to be blinking back a sheen of moisture.
“I think we can rustle up something.”
Neve got up from where she’d been crouching and went over to the table to gather up the scraps. But instead of throwing them away, she moved them into one of the empty cupboards that had a few other knickknacks stashed inside—probably the girl’s only possessions.
“I can save these for later, then.”
Bren closed her eyes, an expression of pain chasing over her features. He clasped a hand on her arm, squeezing gently.
He had no idea what the hell he was going to do about this kid. But he did know two things for sure. One, over his dead body was she going to eat those scraps. And two, they couldn’t leave her here by herself.
Except, there was a major complication to that caveat—they were considered the enemy here, they had a mission to complete, and the coming days would only bring more danger. Not exactly the kind of jaunt anyone should be taking a kid along.
They had a few hours before they’d planned to head out to the crash site. Once Neve was settled, he’d have a quiet chat with Bren and see what her thoughts were. Considering the way it’d looked like her heart was breaking, he was fairly sure he knew what Bren’s answer was going to be; she’d want to help the kid, no matter the cost.
Chapter Eleven
Bren had gotten Neve settled in her bedroll, after the little girl had shown them her hidey-hole under the stairs with bedding that consisted of a few threadbare sheets. Besides being far from clean, the too-thin material wouldn’t do anything to keep her warm. The little girl had dug in the sheets and brought out a teddy. It looked kind of like a cat and was probably once pink. But it’d long discolored and become limp, and Bren could only imagine how many lonely nights Neve had clung to the toy for dear life.
How had she survived for months like this? At that age, Bren didn’t think she would have lasted a week on her own. Neve was one tough little cookie.
Once she’d tucked the little girl into her bedroll, Neve had chattered on, talking about the things she’d seen in the village, every second sentence punctuated with “when my mommy comes back.”
Every time she said it, Bren’s heart gave a painful squeeze, because if Neve’s mom were coming back, she would have done so already.
At last, the kid dropped off to sleep.
“She’s out of it?” Cam whispered from where he was sitting on the counter next to the back door, looking out over the yard.
“Finally, yes.” Bren went over and leaned on the edge of the bench, near Cam’s thigh, feeling exhausted. But it had nothing to do with the physical activity of walking for so many days. It all had to do with being put through the emotional wringer over Neve.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, looking up at him.
The moon had climbed high into the sky, and she could see his face clearly in the silver light, his square chiseled features highlighted perfectly.
“I was about to ask you the same question.” He sent her a quick, grim smile then shifted his attention beyond her, probably to where Neve was curled up under the kitchen table. “I hate to say it, but I’m pretty sure her parents aren’t coming back.”
“I guessed as much,” she murmured in return. Even though she had thought it the likely answer, her heart gave a pained spasm for the little girl.
“The way the CSS came and cleaned out their house? I’ve heard of that happening before. She’s damn lucky she didn’t end up in one of the CSS orphanage school. She still could, if she gets caught by the CSS, especially for something like stealing food.”
“That wasn’t food, it was rubbish.”
Cam shook his head. “Won’t matter. Stealing is a capital offense. She might be just a kid trying to survive, but they’ll still punish her.”
“The Pontifex is a sick bastard,” she muttered. She’d never wished she could take her fighter jet and blow someone up the way she wanted to right at that moment. “We have to help her. We can’t leave her here.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Cam rubbed the back of his neck, lines of tension in his expression. “But a black-ops mission isn’t the time to tow a kid around—”
Surprise jolted her system. She’d never have guessed Cam would come to that conclusion. “We can’t take her with us!”
His expression creased in confusion. “What else are we going to do with her? You just said it yourself, we can’t leave her here.”
“We’re behind enemy lines. I need to rescue my fighter pilot, and you need to contact the rebels. How on Earth do you think we can do any of that with a child tagging along?”
He crossed his arms, expression cool. A stab of guilt in her midsection left her stomach hurting more than it already was. Of course she wanted to take Neve, but it just wasn’t feasible. Instead of saving her, they could end up getting her killed.
“What do you suggest?” His voice had definitely dropped in temperature. But she wasn’t being the unreasonable one.
“Take her to the next village; see if she’s got any extended family we can leave her with. Failing that, we’ll see if we can find so
me people to take her in.”
Part of her wanted to take the little girl off Ilari altogether, but they couldn’t have a little girl tagging after them on this kind of mission…could they?
“If she had any extended family, don’t you think they would have claimed her by now?” The muscles of his jaw were tight. “And otherwise your answer is to leave her with some random people? Anything could happen to her.”
Wow, he was actually really concerned about this kid after only knowing her for a few hours. She’d thought she would be the one arguing to help Neve, not the other way around. Cam might be a tough-guy soldier on the outside, but what she was discovering about him underneath all that continually surprised her.
She shifted closer, her hand landing on his thigh before she’d even realized her own intention. But once her palm was against the slightly coarse material of his pants and she could feel the heat and hardness of the muscle underneath, she didn’t want to move away. In fact, she wanted to get closer. Wanted to put her arms around him simply to hold him and be held, to take a moment out of reality where they connected instead of being at odds.
“I’m not happy, either. But if she comes with us, she could end up worse off.” She squeezed his thigh as he dropped his head, not looking at her, as though he didn’t want to hear the truth. “When this is all over, once I’ve found Shen and you’ve made you’re deal with the rebels, we’ll come back and check on her before we leave.”
He nodded, still avoiding her gaze. Pushing off from the counter, he slid down and stood in front of her, moonlight making his hair look even sharper silver steel. Her breath caught as she looked up at him, not moving back despite the fact that there was barely an inch between them. The way he’d cared so instantly and so deeply about Neve, a child who wasn’t his responsibility, it was melting her inside.
She’d already started seeing him differently, but in the moonlight, with troubled shadows in his gaze and concern for the little girl in the lines of his features, it was like seeing a completely different man. When they’d agreed to start over to start over, she’d viewed it as more of a novelty.
But suddenly, it was truly as if the slate had been wiped clean. She only knew a few facts about this man, but those things made her want to know more, made her pulse skip until it felt like her whole body was rushing toward—
She didn’t know what, but now wasn’t the time to be working that out.
“It’s about time for us to move out.” He cupped her shoulder, and that simple touch sent a shiver tumbling down her spine. She expected him to give her a platonic pat or gentle nudge to get moving. Instead, he shifted closer, his hand stayed where it was, warm through all the layers of clothes she wore.
“You remember all the details of the plan?”
She nodded, since words had suddenly departed her brain, leaving her unable to say anything.
He stared down at her, and from his expression, she got the feeling he wanted to say something else, and she was desperate to hear whatever was on his mind. Like maybe it would clear up the confusion she was feeling. Confirm she wasn’t the only one who’d fallen into unfamiliar territory and didn’t know what to do.
But he clamped his jaw and dropped his hand. “We should let Neve know where we’re going.”
He slipped past her, and the absence of his warmth snapped her out of her daze.
“We shouldn’t wake her.”
“And what if she wakes up to find us gone? It’ll scare her. She’s had enough trauma in her life.”
Cam was right. Damn. She had zero experience when it came to kids, but Cam seemed to know what he was doing, which only brought up more questions about him.
He gently nudged Neve awake. When she blinked her eyes open, he explained they were going out for a little while, but assured her they were coming back soon. He gave her a flashlight, which she hugged to her chest alongside the limp, stuffed cat, and then rolled over, seeming totally asleep again in another moment.
Cam stood, but then paused to look down at her.
“She’ll be okay. We won’t be longer than an hour.” Bren didn’t know if this was what he wanted or needed to hear, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
He dragged a hand over his face, then went to his pack. After he pulled out a few things and tucked them into various pockets, his expression was back to his familiar detached-colonel mask.
“Let’s go.”
They left through the back door and cut toward the barn. The old building looked hulking and almost menacing with night shadows falling across it. Out in the field, the moonlight was so bright it could have been day.
“This isn’t going to provide us with much cover,” she muttered as they crossed the field toward the rise overlooking the crash site.
“The plan will work.” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in his words.
Yeah, the plan would probably work. But with the moon so bright, it was going to be more dangerous for Cam, since he was to cause a distraction and lure the guards away.
But she didn’t say anything, even though a deep concern for his safety had hooked into her chest and made her lungs ache.
When they reached the top of the rise, they picked out the shapes of the guards down in the field. As they’d hoped, the CSS had only allocated two soldiers to watch the wreck. Neither of the guards were patrolling. They sat on opposite sides of the wreckage, facing the same way, which left one or two convenient angles for them to sneak past.
They were maybe a hundred yards away when Cam set a hand on her wrist. He leaned in close, mouth brushing her ear.
“I’m going to continue down to the river,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck. “Wait until the guards start after me before you approach the ship.”
She nodded and then shifted so she could see his eyes, leaving them looking at each other less than an inch apart.
“Be careful. Okay?” She swallowed down a swell of anxiety that he’d get himself caught trying to help her with something he hadn’t wanted to get involved in.
His gaze roamed her face.
A flash of longing flared through her sudden enough to shock her system. This was so not the time for wanting anything except to get out of this mission alive. But the desire to feel his mouth on hers ambushed her without mercy, leaving her unable to breath and fighting the urge to close the distance between them. Only the knowledge that he would definitely reject her, that until today, they’d been the very definition of frenemies, stopped her from acting.
At last, he gave a slow nod. “You be careful as well. I’ll meet you back at the farmhouse.”
Before she could reply, he’d moved, hurrying and staying low as he took a large arc around the outer side of the crashed jet, heading toward the river about three hundred yards off.
Soon, she’d lost sight of his form. He’d disappeared in the long grass and kept his movements hidden as he crossed the open field.
She turned her attention to the guards, waiting for the moment they spotted Cam and went into action. A few long minutes stretched out, as the night chill crept into her clothes and insects chirped endlessly. What was she going to do if the guards didn’t go after Cam? She wouldn’t be able to access the data in the black box.
Just as she was starting to think she’d have to come up with an alternative plan, one of the guards gave a shout, startling his buddy. The two of them jumped to their feet and ran into the field, arguing over who was going to chase the very obvious shadow moving through the trees near the river, and who was going to stay back.
One of the guards broke away, sprinting at an angle to cut Cam off, while the other stayed in the same spot, watching it all go down.
She set off toward the wreckage, dividing her attention between the single soldier tightly clutching his weapon and working out where the panel was located that held the black box recorder. What was left of the jet’s fuselage had half rolled on impact. Everything was mangled. Though nothing had burned, Shen was lucky she’d ejec
ted, because she probably wouldn’t have survived otherwise.
The panel Bren needed ended up being low to the ground. She got down on her knees in the dirt and examined it. Glancing up, she could just see the guard around the crumpled nose of the jet. If he turned around and took a step, he would be able to see her clearly.
But she didn’t have a choice. This was what they’d come for, what Cam was out there risking his ass for. She lay on her stomach, wedging into the seam where the hull met dirt and the wreckage cast a dark shadow, then pulled a tool out of her pocket.
With a single fast crank, she popped the section free. She’d only sucked in half a breath, when a couple of stray bursts of ammo sounded toward the river. Her pulse thrummed faster, hoping it had been Cam letting off a few rounds to amp up his distraction game, not the pursuing soldier shooting at him.
She gave it time before scooting out and checking where the guard was. He’d gone around to the far opposite side of the jet, his attention on the tree line at the river, but now he was on a radio. Probably calling for backup. Time was running out.
They’d known the guards would call for backup, but had no idea how long it would take to arrive.
She yanked the cable and datapad out of her pocket, then connected the device to the black box. All of the stored computer information began streaming in. She skipped to the GPS and navigations and downloaded all navigational data before disconnecting.
Shifting to the tail end of the jet, she peeked around. She couldn’t see any sign of Cam, though the CS soldier who’d gone after him was easy enough to spot from the torch he was sweeping through the trees. The soldier who’d stayed back was on the radio, and in the distance, she could hear the drone of a ship closing in—the backup they’d worried about.
Part of her wanted to track toward the river, see if she couldn’t find Cam and make sure he got out of this okay. But all that would do was put her in danger, and if she got herself caught, she could only imagine how pissed Cam would be. That’d probably take them right back around to the “just like your brother” thing, even though she still didn’t have a clue what he’d meant.
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