by Cindy Dees
When his watch jangled against his wrist, he jolted awake from a surprisingly deep and restful sleep.
“Hey, handsome,” she murmured against his neck.
“Hey back atchya, beautiful.”
She stretched with feline abandon against his side. “I needed that.”
He laughed under his breath. “So did I.”
Her hand meandered across his chest, idly at first, then dipping suspiciously lower. He captured her fingertips and carried them to his lips. “It’s time to get going, sweetheart.”
“No good-luck farewells or lingering kisses?” she murmured in disappointment.
“I wish. But I’ve got a lot to do before sunset.”
“What about me? What do I have to do?”
“We have to find you a hiding spot, and get you tucked out of sight.”
“I have to hide?” she exclaimed under her breath in disappointment.
“Sorry. But I’ve got to do this alone.” He explained regretfully, “I’m going to draw upon all kinds of tricky Special Forces skills, and an amateur would only get in my way.”
She nodded her understanding, and thankfully, didn’t protest.
“You will need to be ready to boogie the second I hand your family over to you. I’m going to give you some maps to study with several alternate routes drawn on them. I need you to study those maps like crazy and memorize every nuance of them, every topographic line, every hill and valley, every ridgeline. Your life and your family’s lives may depend on you knowing those maps like the back of your hand.”
She nodded seriously.
Of course, if all went well, he’d be there to lead them all out, and the exercise in map memorization would be fruitless. But it would keep her busy for a good long time and make her feel useful. And keeping her happily occupied was vital. Civilians with too much time on their hands to think had a tendency to talk themselves into all sorts of trouble, and he really needed her to just sit tight and be patient.
They grabbed a quick bite to eat, refilled their canteens, and packed up their makeshift camp. He carefully erased the signs of their presence, laying down and tamping into place the rolled sod of moss he’d removed before he’d pitched their shelter.
They moved carefully, easing around the south side of the camp to its western margin. The compound’s north end butted up against the cliff, and the east side was bounded by a small, but fast-flowing stream. He planned to use the noise of that flowing water to mask his approach to the camp, in fact.
He found a thicket a little way up a steep western slope, and settled her deep in the middle of the jumbled vines and brambles. She was well clear of the camp, out of sight and mostly out of earshot. Her position was readily accessible from the hillside above, too, which was likely to be the direction from which he and her family approached her.
He’d give anything to have radios for the two of them to stay in touch, but he hadn’t come out here expecting to run a rescue mission. As it was, maybe it was a good thing she couldn’t call him at an awkward moment and blow his cover as he approached Huayar’s hideout. Another thing he’d learned about civilians over the years: they tended to babble when they got nervous, and they sucked at radio discipline. The combination had potential to be deadly if they wouldn’t shut up and stay off the airwaves at critical moments.
He stepped back to survey Melina in her makeshift hide. He adjusted a few branches, and then nodded his satisfaction. “You’re all set, sweetie. Give me until sunrise tomorrow. If I or your family don’t meet you here by then, go west as fast as you can until you know you’re alone. Call that number I had you memorize and tell the guys what’s gone down. They’ll come get you.”
“But what if-”
“If we don’t walk out by tomorrow morning, we’re all dead or about to be dead. Nothing you can do will save us at that point.”
Her eyes went big and dark with apprehension. “You have to make this work, John. For us.”
For them. The words were like Cupid’s arrow straight through his heart, sharp with pain and soothing with balm at the same time. “Honey, I’m gonna do my level best.”
She smiled up at him, and he leaned down to kiss her. He paused, inches from her mouth. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
She laughed up at him and reached up behind his neck to drag him down for a kiss. “I love you, John Hollister.”
He lifted away from her far enough to gaze down into her warm…loving…eyes. “I love you, too.”
Still fresh on their lips, the words flavored their kiss of farewell with unbearable sweetness. They broke the contact with the greatest of reluctance, and it took all the strength of will he had to straighten up and take a step back from her.
“Go get ’em, tiger,” she murmured.
He grinned jauntily. “A walk in the park, darlin’.”
But when he turned to walk away, a suspicious wetness on his cheeks threatened to smear his greasepaint.
Chapter 14
Melina stared at the maps John had left with her until she could see every last detail of them perfectly in her mind’s eye. Much of the terrain she recognized from their trek into this valley, and it helped her to visualize what the various routes John had marked on the map would look like on the way out. She snacked on one of the power bars he’d left her and sipped at one of the bottles of water in her pack.
And she waited.
It was nerve-racking in the extreme to just sit here like this, with no idea what John was doing at this exact moment, not knowing whether her family was all right, or whether Huayar had lost patience with her and decided to kill them all. She told herself a hundred times that Huayar wanted the drug formula bad enough to wait for her to show up, especially since John had made a big deal of the fact that they were going to take their sweet time getting here. It would be all right. It would be all right. It would be…
Although she didn’t think it would ever get there, the sun finally began to dip into the west, sliding down toward the line of mountains behind her. She couldn’t see the mountains because of the thick canopy of forest overhead, but she felt their massive presence looming, solid and immovable, measuring time in eons her puny human mind couldn’t begin to comprehend.
John should be in position near the camp by now. He’d told her his goal was to get close to the camp today, so that as soon as it got dark he could start his move into the compound. She couldn’t imagine how he planned to work his way right into the middle of a heavily populated place like that, but he seemed confident he could pull it off. And since their future rested on it, she had faith he was plenty motivated to succeed.
She was so proud of his progress. He really seemed to have turned the corner last night when he finally gave himself permission to consider staying alive. Once he’d made that leap, the rest of it had been easy. He’d figured out immediately that the best way to honor the memories of his fallen comrades was to stay alive and keep their memories alive in his heart. She’d seen the whole argument play out in his wonderfully expressive eyes. She hadn’t done half-bad for only having one rotation in medical school in psychiatric counseling. But she still wanted him to talk to a pro when they got home.
She occupied herself for a while imagining moving to Timbalo, the island where Pirate Pete’s delivery service was based. It was a sleepy little place, sunny and golden and sexy…with John around, she could definitely see herself living there.
That was, assuming Huayar and company could be persuaded to leave her the heck alone, and she didn’t have to go into hiding or take even more drastic measures. She’d hate to undergo plastic surgery or give up all contact with her family after fighting so hard to get them back. But if she’d learned nothing else from John, it was that sometimes extreme measures were necessary to stay alive. After finding him, she’d do whatever it would take to have a future with him.
The sun slid below the mountains, unseen, and the light began to fade around her. The vivid greenery faded to ol
ive, and then to gray. Night creatures began their chorus, and she shrugged into the sweatshirt John had thoughtfully left for her. A macaw screeched nearby and she about had heart failure before she recognized the distinctive caw. But then she settled down once more and began to wait in earnest. John was actually moving into the camp now.
And then she began to worry.
How long she sat there, feeling useless and exposed by turns, she didn’t know. Impatience built in her, a restless need to move. To know what was going on. But John had been adamant. She was supposed to stay right here. At all costs. An hour passed. Two. And the tension of waiting became nearly unbearable.
Then the screams began.
They started as a series of indistinct sounds coming from the direction of Huayar’s camp, and grew into a horrible sound of fear and pain. Oh, God. Had they discovered John? Her palms broke out in a cold sweat. She prayed fervently that he was safe and still hidden.
But then the screams morphed into something sharper. More urgent. It was definitely the sound of someone in terrible trouble. Her entire body broke out in a cold sweat. Panic made her shaky, and a need to do something dug into her until she thought she’d tear her hair out.
The thick vegetation distorted the noise, making it bounce crazily around her until she could hardly tell where it came from. But it was definitely the sound of torture. Was that John? Should she do something? He’d said to stay here. But, if he was in trouble, she couldn’t do nothing.
He would tell her there wasn’t anything she could do. He’d tell her to leave. To save herself. Except everyone she loved was down there in that camp. What did saving herself matter if her parents and her brother and her lover all died?
Another scream split the night. She about leaped out of her skin at the piercing sound of human agony. Ohgodohgodohgod…
Was that her mother or father? Mike? Now what was she supposed to do? She had to take action. It would kill her not to.
A new scream erupted, louder and even more agonized than the last one. She stood up. Took a step forward, then crouched back into place. Should she…John had said to stay…but someone was in trouble…what could she do…she wouldn’t know if she could help until she saw what was going on…
She inched forward, relieved beyond all reason to be moving, to be acting upon the adrenaline pounding frantically through her. She’d just creep a little closer. She’d go slow like John talked about. She’d stick to the shadows, and only go close enough to catch a glimpse of what was going on. She’d be careful.
Thankfully, because of the maps he’d made her study all afternoon, she had little trouble staying oriented as she moved toward Huayar’s camp. If she slid to the left a bit, the map showed a high outcropping that overlooked the camp nicely. She should be able to crawl out on it and get a decent view of what was happening below without ever coming much closer to the camp than she was now.
In theory it was an easy task. Except she failed to take into account the paralyzingly thick vegetation, the even more paralyzing open patches of ground, and the sick nausea of fear rumbling in her gut. Every time another scream pierced the night, she lurched, pushing herself to keep moving forward, to set aside her own safety and keep pressing closer to the danger.
How on God’s green earth did John do this so casually? It was a no-brainer to guess that he’d been a soldier of some kind before he got shot. He’d referred to his Special Forces skills just before he left, in fact. Her heart was about to pound right out of her chest, and she was alone and safe in the shadows. What must he be experiencing, down among Huayar’s men in the open, without cover to speak of? Please, God, let that not be John down there, his voice growing hoarse from his screams…
Finally, she crouched behind the drooping branches of a tree fern and peered out at the rocky outcropping she’d sought. Yikes. It was really open out there. Only rocks and moss for cover. She shed her backpack and lay down on her belly. She commenced edging forward, and rapidly gained new respect for snails. The further out the ledge she went, the dumber an idea it seemed. She was way exposed out here. But John would’ve taken a risk like this for her-heck, was taking a greater risk for her at this very minute.
Just a little bit further, and then she’d be able to see down into Huayar’s camp. She dragged herself forward a few more inches on her elbows, and then froze, staring down in horror.
A tiny red dot illuminated the top of her right hand. It slid up her arm, across her shirt pocket and disappeared, presumably centering itself somewhere in the middle of her forehead. She dropped flat, breathing hard. Crap. She’d watched enough television shows to know that was a laser sight from a rifle. She waited for the bullet to slam into her entirely vulnerable flesh. But nothing happened.
Her body went hot, then cold. And belatedly, her brain kicked back into gear. That had to be one of Huayar’s men. Of course they wouldn’t shoot her-Huayar wanted to take her alive! The sniper had probably radioed down to the camp that he’d spotted her. Heck, there was probably a welcoming party of armed men heading for her position right now.
She jumped up and took off running, heedless of the sniper tracking her movements. She had to get back into the trees. Out of sight. She crashed past the tree fern, not bothering to scoop up her backpack. Bug spray and spare bottles of water were meaningless to her if Huayar’s men caught her.
Faint crashing sounds came from behind her.
She put on a new burst of speed. She tried to traverse the steep mountainside on the assumption that Huayar’s men would expect her to run downhill. Oh, how tempted she was to barrel down the slope. But she was pretty sure that path spelled disaster.
She slowed down, both from complete lack of oxygen, and because her gut told her silence was more important than speed, now. Her pursuers knew she was out here. They’d comb these woods all night if they had to. This was no longer a chase. It was now a life-or-death game of hide-and-seek.
John crouched in the shadows of one of the sleeping huts, a ramshackle affair of corrugated tin and scrap wood. It would keep rain off the hammocks within, but that was about all that could be said for it.
He clenched his jaw as Huayar continued wielding his knife. The prisoner screamed again, pleading for mercy, and swearing upon a variety of saints that he had not stolen drugs from the latest shipment he’d delivered.
John subsided in the shadows, thinking hard. The drug lord’s ploy was transparent. Huayar figured Melina was nearby, hesitating to walk into the camp, and the bastard was giving her something to think about.
John hoped fiercely that Melina was heeding his instructions to sit tight and do nothing. But he had a sinking feeling in his gut that she wasn’t. The tortured man’s screams were wrenching, and she had to be completely flipped out. She had no way of knowing whether or not that was him or one of her loved ones screaming their head off. He had to get her family out of here, and fast, before she went and did something stupid.
He looked all around. The good news was that the sentries were looking avidly over their shoulders at Huayar’s bloody spectacle. John eased forward, gliding silently across an open area and sinking slowly into the shadows of another sleeping hut. The building beyond this one was where Melina’s family was being held. He rolled slowly under the nearest hammock and inched his way along the interior wall toward his goal.
Hang on, sweetheart. Don’t let the screams get to you. Trust me. Do what I told you to…
Melina crouched, panting, beneath the limbs of a clusia tree. Its round, leathery leaves blocked out the sound of her pursuers, but she had no doubt they were still out there. She could feel them closing in on her.
Maybe she should just stop this foolishness and give up. She could raise her hands over her head and walk out of the bush, and tell Huayar’s men she’d gotten lost trying to find his camp. She’d followed the screams to the area, but then had gotten scared when someone tried to chase her. If she acted lost and stupid enough, maybe she could sell the explanation to Huayar and his
men.
She wanted to shout for John, to beg him to come make it all better like he had so many times already. But she was on her own out here. He’d told her stay put and she hadn’t. Except, even knowing she’d be chased like a fugitive, she would still have tried to help him. If nothing else, maybe she’d drawn some men and some attention away from the camp and made his job easier. She had to believe he was still okay, that he was still working on freeing her parents. Any other sequence of events had no meaning for her, because she’d rather die herself than lose her family.
Die herself…
Comprehension flashed across her mind. This was how John felt! This was why he’d been so hell-bent on joining his comrades in death. They’d been family to him, perhaps the only people he really cared about. And he’d lost them. Her own heart bled for his anguish.
Crackling noises in the brush nearby made her freeze, holding her breath. She listened for a long time, determination and doom warring within her. But then her resolve stiffened. If John had promised to fight through the loss of his military family and keep on going for her, surely she owed him no less.
She eyed a sweet gum tree off to her right. If she could get behind that, there was a heavy stand of underbrush she could worm her way into. She eyed the menacing gloom of the forest around her. Nothing moved. A twig snapped, farther away than a few minutes ago. She eased out of her hiding spot. It was now or never.
John eyed the building across the last open space before him. This structure was solidly built with tin siding and small windows perched up high. He’d peered into one of those windows last night and spotted Melina’s parents and brother asleep inside. Surely, they were wide-awake now, what with all the screaming and commotion in camp.