“What are you going to do, then?”
He cinched the belt and slung the rifle strap over his shoulder. “Stand guard outside.” She hugged herself, so he added, “I’m not expecting any kind of trouble tonight, if that’s what’s got you worried.”
Nodding, she got to work spreading blankets out, looking worn to the bone. He considered pitching in, but it was too much, the idea of doing something as intimate with her as setting up a bed.
Instead, he grabbed the first MRE his fingers touched and got the hell out of the room.
The night was dark as it always was in the jungle. Despite the clearing in which his cabin sat, not too much sky made it through the crowd of trees, and even less moonlight. At least the rain had stopped.
He stood still, just outside the door, until his eyes could make out the silhouettes of tree trunks and differentiate the ragged edges of the canopy surrounding the clearing from the sky beyond.
Birds, frogs and bugs did their noisy nighttime routine. Comforting, their sounds, because it meant nothing was out of the ordinary in the jungle. The real problem came when the animals and insects went silent. He’d been in that situation before. Been there at that moment when the silence rushed up like a wave of static in your ears and your gut dropped because you knew something ugly was about to go down.
But tonight, all was well. He had absolutely zero appetite, which wasn’t unusual, given the day he’d had, and so chucked the MRE on the raised platform in front of the door along with his utility belt, and propped his rifle against the cabin’s outer wall. He could get to it fast and he had two more guns on his body should trouble come calling.
He hopped from the platform and prowled the circumference of the clearing, finally ready to deal with the thoughts that had been waiting patiently in the background of his mind for him to have the time and space to acknowledge.
He’d killed today. At least eight men.
Never hit him until everything was quiet after a mission. Sometimes it wasn’t until days later, but every time he took a life, he’d found it necessary to pause and get right with himself again. To remember why he led this life, and that he was one of the good guys, even though his fists and soul were stained with the blood of others.
He flexed his left pectoral, visualizing his tattoo, and ran a list of the good he’d done that year, that month, that week. Today he’d taken eight lives but saved one. Probably saved more by snuffing the men he had before they got the chance to do more evil. Wherever you are, Ossie, I hope you can see that the world’s a little safer today.
Meditating on the good he’d done only went so far to sever the dragging weight of the bloodshed, however. The rest, he had to work out in sweat.
That was Leroy Yarborough’s idea. Nothing exorcised demons like exercise, he used to say. That certainly held true for Diego. From his utility belt, he pulled a climbing rope and wound it around his hands as a makeshift jump rope. He chose a spongy piece of ground that would muffle the noise, then started jumping.
About the time his leg muscles caught fire, all thoughts of death gave way to Vanessa’s image.
He tossed the rope aside and dropped to the ground for crunches, ignoring the wetness creeping over his back and butt.
He’d been telling Vanessa the God’s honest truth when he’d offered to get her out of Panama, either hide her somewhere safe or be the one to escort her into protective custody. If ICE demanded he hand her over in Panama so they could put her to work on Operation ICEWALL, he wouldn’t do it. Going against them would mean his job, so he’d make sure his crew wasn’t punished for his choice, but he hadn’t saved her life only to push her into mortal danger again.
He rolled to plank position and held it for a count of one hundred. Then he hooked one ankle behind the other and got busy with one-legged push-ups. He was on his tenth set, with one hand behind his back and nothing on his mind at all except getting to twenty so he could start pull-ups on a nearby tree, when he heard movement in the cabin.
Maybe she was getting a drink of water or pacing around. Then he thought, what did he care what she was up to? She was safe, and really, that was the extent of his job.
He finished the set and stood, letting out a harsh exhale when he realized he was holding his breath, listening for more movement in the cabin and wondering why she was up when she should be getting the rest she needed. Okay, so he cared about her getting a good night’s sleep. No big deal. Didn’t mean nothing.
Determined not to think about her or puzzle over the reason for her restlessness, he worked out a comfortable grip on the limb of a tree along the clearing and started his set.
He was only on five when he heard the door open. The flickering glow of her flashlight caught on the trees to his right.
“Diego?” Her voice was tight with anxiety.
Like she was still entertaining the possibility he was going to leave her stranded. Un-freaking-believable. Someone had done a hell of a number on her, that was for sure. Whoever it was, Diego was working up the desire to deliver a smack down on them for damaging her like that.
“Over here.” He dropped from the tree and walked her way.
“Where were you?” she asked.
“Doing pull-ups on the tree. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I tried.”
“You didn’t try very long.”
“I kept thinking about all the horror movies I’ve seen that take place in rickety old cabins in the woods. Can I sit out here with you?”
He didn’t buy that lame excuse for a second. She was as transparent as her shirt had been after her dive in the lake. “You can sit out here, sure. But you’ll want to turn that flashlight off. Lots of flying bugs in this jungle and, trust me, you don’t want them dive-bombing the flashlight beam. That could get all kinds of nasty.”
She sat cross-legged on the porch ledge, her back propped on the cabin wall. Diego snagged his MRE and settled next to her. One thing about Leroy’s exercise strategy, it worked up an appetite. He felt around the box and brought up a two-pack of cookies, offering her one. He angled his whole cookie into his mouth and made short work of it. Chocolate. Not half-bad.
“Which movies had you spooked tonight?”
She took a nibble. “You name it. The Blair Witch Project, Don’t Go in the Woods, Cabin Fever. Nothing good ever happens in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. I used to love scary movies, but they always seemed so unrealistic. Like you could be scared but could control it because you knew it wasn’t real. And you could turn off the TV or walk out of the movie theater anytime you wanted, you know? But after what happened today, those movies don’t seem so farfetched.”
Ah. She needed to decompress from the day’s violence as much as he had. Maybe he should put her to work on Leroy’s plan. Ten sets of push-ups could cure anything. Then again, his sisters, aunts and mom weren’t that way. They wanted to talk it out. Even Alicia was like that. Usually it was Ryan or John who acted as her sounding board while Diego got the hell out of earshot. But tonight, it was just him and Vanessa.
If talking was what she needed, he’d have to give it a try. Being the sensitive, articulate guy he was, that ought to go great. He cringed, but only because he knew it was too dark for her to see him doing it.
He cleared his throat. “I used to love scary movies, too, because the good guys usually won in the end. I’ve seen all those you mentioned. But I can’t watch movies anymore, any movies.”
In the MRE, he found the entrée and activated the heating fuel.
“What happened?” she asked.
“A couple years ago, I was in this hotel room in Egypt watching a movie on my computer because I couldn’t sleep. Friday the 13th. That used to be one of my favorites, but that night it dawned on me what was happening. Sure, the chick kills that crazy woman at the end, but not before all these other kid
s were hacked up.
“The more I thought about it, the more I realized all those movies are like that. Whole families murdered, cities wiped out. Hollywood never talks about that. They play triumphant music during the end credits like the hero saved the day, and they never give a thought to all the people he didn’t save.
“Even those big special effects films, like the ones where aliens try to destroy Earth. I hate those movies because I can’t stop thinking about the millions of people who die during the special effects sequences when the aliens take out cities and landmarks before the heroes do their thing, and the Hollywood schmucks still play it off like something wonderful came out of all that bloodshed.”
He filled his lungs, a little rattled by how easy it had been to tell her all that. Suddenly impatient to eat, he peeled the lid of the entrée and dug in. Beef stroganoff. Lukewarm, but edible.
Vanessa stayed silent for a while, then brought her knees up and hugged them. “I’d never seen a person die before today.”
Damn. There it was.
He dropped his fork into the food and rested it in his lap. Appetite gone. “I hate that you had to see that. If there had been a way I could’ve prevented it from happening, I would’ve. But I didn’t have a choice, and I’m not going to apologize because I don’t regret it—not when your life was on the line.”
“I don’t think you should apologize or have regrets. I’m grateful for what you did. It’s just that I’d never witnessed something like that before and I’m having trouble letting it go.”
He poked at the stroganoff with the fork. “This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s good that you’re taking it hard. Means your head’s screwed on straight and you’ve got a heart.”
She humphed like she got what he was trying to tell her, despite the clunky way he’d said it. “Do you take it hard?”
“Yes. Never gets easier. And, honestly, I don’t want it to. Scares me what that would mean.”
“Good answer.”
It was his turn to humph. He nudged her arm with his elbow. “I said the right thing? That’s a first. I’m going to remember you told me that.” He hoped the joke made her smile, or at least feel a little better, but it was impossible to tell in the dark.
“I’m curious about something,” she said.
“Shoot.”
“In the helicopter, you figured out that velocity equation fast. I was impressed.”
“That was nothing special. I don’t know a whole lot of math, but velocity is something I learned real quick in the navy. That and trajectory, force of impact, all those physics of warfare stuff they teach you as a SEAL in sniper school, jump school, weapons training and so forth. Everything you need to do the job and stay alive.”
“Makes sense.”
She was so close he could feel the heat of her. His arm twitched, wanting to touch her, give her a hug or something reassuring like that. A sure sign it was time to put some space between them. “You think you can sleep now? You ought to try because we’ll be hiking all day tomorrow. Don’t give me that horror movie line, either. I’m out here on guard, making sure you can sleep safe. Nothing’s going to get to you when you’re with me, got it?”
She stood and was halfway through the mosquito netting in the doorway when she stopped. “You’re still going to be here when I wake up, right?”
She said it like she was trying to make a joke. It didn’t work. If anything, it ticked him off more.
“How come you’re so brave except about this? You’re ready to risk your life to help ICE catch a bunch of violent criminals, but you’re scared thinking I might abandon you in the middle of the night. I swear to God, Vanessa. Anytime now, you feel free to start trusting me to do right by you.”
She squared her shoulders defiantly, but it was too dark to read the expression on her face. “You’re right. Sorry. I trust you, I do. I didn’t mean to insult you like that. Sometimes, even when I know it’s irrational, I can’t...” She sighed and shook her head. “Good night.”
The second she disappeared behind the mosquito netting, he cursed under his breath and prowled to one end of the clearing and back.
He’d done it again. Flapped his lips and said the wrong thing. But over and over again she’d insulted his honor—the thing about himself he was most proud of—and he was tired of it.
She needed to get it straight in her head that when he promised something, he meant it. Then again, what should he care if she didn’t trust him? He was supposed to keep her safe, and he would, but that didn’t say anything about making sure she was happy and well rested. Beyond a lack of energy that would happen if she didn’t sleep, what did he care if she exhausted herself imagining ridiculous scenarios? If she wanted to make herself miserable, that was her choice. It wasn’t his job to talk her down from her irrational fears.
Then he thought about all she’d witnessed that day. Men had tried to kidnap her, then she’d watched her apartment blow up. She was out of a job and was going to be forced to leave the country, and she’d had no choice but to put her life in a stranger’s hands—after she’d witnessed him kill a man and had gotten that man’s blood on her clothes and skin.
Maybe he’d have trouble trusting, too, if he were in her position.
With another curse, louder this time, he stomped to the cabin door, grabbed his rifle and gear and threw the mosquito netting aside.
Chapter 9
Diego strode into the cabin. Vanessa’s flashlight was on, pointed at the wall. She lay on her side on the cot, facing the door.
He couldn’t tell if she was crying, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she was. That was probably his least favorite thing in the world. Took him right back to his mom and sisters’ grief after the news came that Ossie was lost when the Twin Towers had collapsed.
“Tell you what. I don’t need to be outside to hear bad news coming.” He cleared his throat. Why was this so hard? Wiping a hand across his forehead to swipe at the sweat, he crossed the room and loaded his gear on the lid of a bin. “So this is how we’re going to do it. Sit up.”
She pushed up on her hands. “You don’t have to be in here. I was wrong before, what I said.”
“Yeah, you were.” He scowled and said a mental curse. That wasn’t exactly the soothing statement he’d been going for. He tossed the folded blanket she’d used as a pillow aside, then sat where it’d been along the edge of the cot, propping his rifle against the wall. “Use my leg as a pillow. That way, you’ll know I’m not moving while you sleep, because you’d wake up if I tried, right? So problem solved.”
She stared at his lap and he could tell the wheels were turning in her head because she was gnawing on her lower lip. With a sigh, she nodded and clicked off the flashlight. “Thank you.”
Her head found his leg no problem in the dark. She got comfortable fast, and while he was relieved that he’d found a solution she was okay with, the setup did nothing for Diego but cause him anguish. Because he had to rest his hands somewhere, but it was a minefield of inappropriateness. Even in the pitch darkness, he knew the curve of her hip was nearby. He was a sucker for curves, and oh, man, did she have them in spades. He’d touched her there while she was cleaning his rash wounds and already knew how great her waist felt against his palms.
Then again, Vanessa had such pretty hair. He could settle his hands on her head and be happy for the rest of the night. He smoothed a hand over her hair once and she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, her body relaxed. Good. They were finally getting somewhere. He stroked her hair again and she released a contented, resolve-melting sigh.
“Superhuman,” she whispered.
“What is?”
“You. You’re not scared, you don’t feel pain and you don’t need sleep. Do you have any weakness at all?”
On his next stroke of her hair, he allow
ed his fingers to keep moving down. He dragged them over the material of her shirt and curled them around the curve of her waist. Yeah, he had weaknesses all right. “I’m about as far from perfect as a man can get. I’m just doing my job.”
“That’s funny.”
“What?”
“That you downplay it like that. ‘Just a job’ and all that nonsense. This isn’t a job for you, it’s who you are.”
“Does your mind ever stop working at hyper speed? Because I thought the whole point of this setup was for you to get some sleep.”
She burrowed her face into his leg and, Jesus Almighty, he hadn’t realized something as simple as a woman getting all soft and cuddly would feel that good, that perfect. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized he was missing out on something that pleasurable all these years. She hooked her arm around his knee in a kind of hug and he relaxed his hand against her waist. “Good night, Vanessa.”
Then, just because he could, because he knew she wouldn’t mind, he wove his other hand into her hair. And he thought, Man, I could get used to this.
* * *
There was a lot to be thankful for on the first day of their hike down the mountain. It wasn’t raining, they were hiking downhill and Vanessa had benched the doubt and fear that had consumed her the day before. The circumstances surrounding the hike were dismal, but they were making the most of it.
“That depends,” Vanessa called from behind him in answer to his question. “How long in kilometers is this hike, total?”
Her words were slightly winded, but seeing as how they were already four hours into their descent from the mountain, she was holding up fine. In fact, they were ripping along as fast as possible given the lack of trail and thick foliage.
“Thirty-three clicks, give or take.”
She went quiet.
“Do the math out loud, would you? Come on and let me hear it.”
“All right. This is a thirty-three kilometer hike and the average person’s step distance is 0.67 meters, so we’ll be taking nearly fifty thousand steps. Let me figure it out exactly.”
Tempted Into Danger Page 10