Catherine reached over and grasped Murdock's hand. "Barbara was the fool, not you."
He squeezed her hand, but didn't look at her. "When she dumped me, I went crazy. That's when I joined up with your father and—"
"And became a mercenary," Catherine finished for him. "Did you love her so much that losing her made you not care whether you lived or died?"
Murdock whirled around, grabbed Catherine's shoulders and peered deeply into her eyes. "I haven't loved a woman since then. I purposefully chose a life that wasn't exactly conducive to making any permanent ties. I've avoided commitment most of my adult life."
"And all I've ever wanted was a family," she said quietly, a soft sad note to her voice. "A husband, children, parents. I thought I had a chance for a real family when I married Rodney. But … we didn't have children and I lost Rodney a few months before our fifth anniversary."
"So, I assume it's safe to say that we've spent our lives pursuing different goals." Murdock released his tight grip on her. "If it hadn't been for our mission to rescue Lanny, you and I never would have met. But we did meet and we've shared some unforgettable moments together. "
Catherine sighed. "The most unforgettable moments of my life."
"Yeah. For me, too," he admitted. "And when this is all over—when you go your way and I go mine—I want you to remember that you weren't just another woman to me." He placed his open palm across the left side of her face and caressed her tenderly. "You were my fantasy woman. Everything I could ever want."
Emotion clogged her throat, threatening her breathing. She laid her hand over his and held it to her face. "You turned out to be my fantasy man." She laughed softly. "I told myself that I didn't like you, that you were a carbon copy of Lanny. You were a trained killer, who didn't possess any gentle, tender emotions."
"You were right to feel that way."
"No, I was wrong." She dragged his hand to her lips and kissed his big, hard knuckles. "What I've been through this past week—what we've been through—has shown me how wrong I was about you. It's easy to judge someone when you haven't walked a mile in their shoes. Well, I've walked a lot of miles at your side since we came to Zaraza and I've seen a side of life that no one could imagine unless they've experienced it firsthand."
"I'd give anything if I could have spared you the hell you've been through."
Murdock pulled her off the step, lifted her over onto his lap and draped his arms around her hips. She wrapped one arm around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.
They sat there on the stairs, not speaking, just holding each other. As one moment passed peacefully into another and then another, Catherine thought about how much her life had changed since she'd met Murdock. She realized that she would never be the woman she'd once been. Now and forever, she would be his woman. No amount of time or distance could ever change that one irrevocable fact. And finally she understood why, after all that had happened between them, her mother had called for Lanny on her deathbed. When you loved a man the way she loved Murdock—the way her mother had loved her father—you loved until the day you died. And probably for all eternity.
"We've got a lot of time on our hands, honey." He nuzzled her throat. "What do you say we make hay while the sun shines?"
She swatted him playfully on the arm. "Aloysius Murdock, I do swear you have a one-track mind!"
"Yes, ma'am, where you're concerned, I believe I do." He traced a fine blue vein in her neck, then crisscrossed his finger back and forth on her chest, opening the top two buttons of her shirt.
She didn't utter one word of protest when he hoisted her into a standing position, undid and lowered her pants to her knees. She lifted one foot and then the other. Murdock tossed her pants over the stair rail, then quickly unzipped his pants and freed his sex. As he lowered her to his lap, positioning her so that she slid onto his shaft, she braced herself by grabbing his shoulders.
"Ah … ah … ah," she sighed when he cupped her hips and forced her to take him completely. Her body swelled and tightened, holding him hard and fast.
Easing one hand between their bodies, he finished unbuttoning her shirt. Then while his lips sought her breasts, his hand delved through her intimate curls and found her core. A torturous tingling zinged between her breasts and her femininity, like tiny lightning strikes preparing to set the world on fire.
Clutching her hips again, he maneuvered her, lifting her up and down, making sure each stroke touched her with tormenting accuracy. Their mating was fast, furious and frenzied. Within minutes she cried out her fulfillment and he followed her quickly, releasing himself within her hot, wet depths.
In the hours that followed, they talked and laughed and made love. And sometimes they simply held each other and listened to the silence. They shared stories from their childhoods, along with their most embarrassing moments and their darkest secrets. He learned that despite all her accomplishments, Catherine couldn't carry a tune. And she found out that his full name was Aloysius Devlin Murdock, but that since his father had been Devlin, Sr., his parents had called him Aloysius, which he had shortened to Al in high school.
And several times, they wound the music box and Murdock waltzed her across the dirt floor. Every moment precious. Every experience only adding to the fantasy.
She had never felt closer and more connected to another human being in her entire life. How was she ever going to let this man go? she wondered. All that mattered to her was holding on to Murdock, now and for the rest of her life.
* * *
Vargas returned the next day. Alone. And with bad news! Although the rebels had secured the capital city, the war was far from over.
"General Ramos escaped to Brazil," Vargas said. "But his right-hand man, Colonel Ordaz, has retreated with over three-fourths of the Zarazaian army to Carrizo."
"What about Sabino?" Murdock asked.
"Sabino is alive and well," Vargas said. "Today at noon, he will address the residents of San Carlos in a victory rally in the town square."
"Is there any way I can get to him before the rally?"Murdock laid his hand on Vargas's shoulder. "His life depends on my talking to him."
"I have tried every way I know to gain an audience with Sabino." Vargas shook his head in disgust. "I am only a lowly lieutenant, with very limited influence."
"Don't sell yourself short, amigo." Murdock checked his watch, then slipped his arm around Catherine's waist. "Let's get the hell out of here. We have less than two hours to save Vincente Sabino's life."
Bright morning sunshine nearly blinded Murdock when he stepped out into the light of day. The effects of having spent twenty-four hours in a subterranean dungeon.
"Did you bring me a rifle?" Murdock asked.
"Sí." Vargas pointed to a HK53 carbine propped against the wall. He picked up the compact rifle and handed it to Murdock. "I took this off a Zarazaian soldier. Nice, yes?"
"Very nice." Murdock stroked the retractable buttstock.
"What about me?" Catherine asked. "Shouldn't I have a gun, too?"
"Of course, señora." He removed his hip holster, containing a 9mm Glock and handed it to her, then rearranged the rifle slung over his shoulder.
Murdock strapped the leather belt around her waist, notching it in the last opening. It dropped to the top of her hips. "I'll give you some pointers on using a handgun while we're en route."
Vargas jumped in the jeep and motioned for them to hurry. Catherine clutched Murdock's arm, halting him.
"What is it, honey?" he asked.
"You think Sanchez is going to strike at the rally, don't you? And you're going to try to stop him."
He grabbed her arm and hauled her up against him. "It's the only way."
"But what if something goes wrong … what if—"
"Vargas will get you to the American embassy. It'll be the safest place for you. Ambassador Hadley should be able to find some way to get you out of the country." He squeezed her arm. "Worst case scenario, Cat."
She w
anted to scream. No! No! No! Nothing is worth risking your life. If I lose you, I don't care what happens to me. But she didn't scream. She made no verbal protest of any kind. She simply gazed into his eyes and told him, without words, exactly how she felt.
He gave her a gentle shove. She jumped into the back of the jeep as he got in the front beside Vargas, who immediately revved the motor.
"Okay," Murdock said. "Let's rock and roll."
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
Celebrators congested the streets of San Carlos. Soldiers and local citizens alike. Men and women of all ages, from old men aided by walking canes to babes on their mothers' hips. After waiting twenty years for this day, the victory was bittersweet. Although the capital was now in the possession of the rebel army, the war was yet to be won.
Blue skies and tropical sunshine blanketed the city, the day itself as cheerful as the crowds that swarmed through the streets, making their way to the town square. Vargas had abandoned the jeep several blocks back since traffic had slowed to a standstill. The only way to get to the square by noon was on foot.
"Sabino will have guards surrounding him," Vargas said as they wove their way in and around the milling crowd. "Our best bet is for us to separate once we reach the square. Let me try to get a message to Sabino."
"Sure, you see what you can do," Murdock agreed. "But if I have to, I'll make a scene to attract Sabino's attention. Even if means getting myself arrested."
Murdock kept Catherine's hand tightly clasped in his. The crowd was huge, boisterous and rowdy enough to be dangerous for a woman separated from her man. Even if she were nothing more to him than Lanny's daughter, he wouldn't be able to forget that he had two missions to accomplish—save Sabino's life and make sure Catherine got out of Zaraza alive. But she meant a great deal more to him than simply being his old buddy's daughter. Her safety was always utmost in his mind. And in his heart.
The closer they got to the heart of the city, the thicker the congestion, the wilder the crowds. Many people had stopped in cantinas to quench their thirst and rest their feet. Others had opted to take positions in upper rooms, where the windows were draped with rebel flags. But the vast majority trudged ever forward, toward the former home of General Ramos, now the new headquarters of Vincente Sabino and his rebel army.
By Murdock's estimation, it was taking them more than fifteen minutes to cover one block. At this rate, they'd barely make it to the square by noon. His gut instincts told him that Sanchez would assassinate Sabino today, at the square, in front of thousands. If that happened, the war in Zaraza would never end. Not in five years, or ten or even another twenty. If the rebel factions didn't remain a cohesive unit, under one leader, then Colonel Ordaz could easily take over where General Ramos had left off.
As they neared the square a chorus of "¡Viva Sabino!" rang out loud and clear, followed by deafening shouts. A man spoke over a loudspeaker system, sending his voice several blocks in every direction. Damn! Murdock thought. He's congratulating Sabino on his victory. That meant the young leader was already on the podium. And unless he was badly mistaken, Domingo Sanchez was probably standing at Sabino's side, waiting for the perfect moment to betray his friend and his country.
"I will leave you now," Vargas said. "If I get through to Sabino, what do I tell him?"
"Tell him that his father's old friend, Murdock, wants him to know that he has a Judas among his disciples."
"And if he does not believe me?" Vargas asked.
Murdock made a decision based on instinct. He had to take a chance on completely trusting Vargas. "Tell the young man that you know the old code word." Murdock leaned over and whispered into Vargas's ear.
Once Vargas disappeared into the mob, Murdock dragged Catherine along with him as he circled the crowd, slowly but surely inching his way closer and closer to the podium. Finally, thanks to his six-foot-six height, he was able to see Vincente Sabino. He would have known the boy anywhere. He was very much his father's son.
The speaker, an older gentleman in army fatigues, introduced the man of the hour. Murdock's heartbeat accelerated. Sweat moistened his palms. It was coming down. And soon! He could feel it in his bones. Years of experience told him that every minute counted now.
"Stay with me," he told Catherine. "But if something goes wrong, try to find Vargas."
She tightened her grip on his hand. In that same instant he noticed the tall, broad-shouldered man, his rifle held in front of his chest, standing guard on the podium, about ten feet to Sabino's right. He wore a rebel uniform and the insignia identified him as a general. Was he Sanchez? Murdock wondered. His every instinct replied in the affirmative.
Catherine tugged on Murdock's hand. "Look, there's Vargas. Two soldiers are dragging him off the podium."
"Damn!" Murdock shoved his way through the crowd, with Catherine running to keep pace.
Vargas struggled with his captors, all the while shouting at the top of his lungs that Sabino was in danger. Sanchez pointed his rifle at Vargas and ordered the guards to get rid of the nuisance.
Murdock and Catherine were less than ten feet away from the edge of the podium, when Vargas called out loudly, "Your father's old comrade, Murdock, has a message for you! Your life is in danger from someone who calls himself your friend!"
One of the guards rammed his rifle butt into Vargas's stomach. He doubled over in agony. Sabino held up his hand in a halt signal.
"Bring this man to me," Sabino said.
The guards obeyed instantly. The crowd quieted, all eyes riveted to the scene before them. Murdock scanned his gaze back and forth from Sabino to Sanchez, all the while plowing forward toward the podium.
Catherine followed him, clinging to his hand, praying harder and harder with each step they took.
The guards dropped Vargas to his knees in front of Sabino, who thoroughly inspected the intruder. "Where is this Señor Murdock?"
Vargas lifted his head. "Murdock is here, in the square. He knows the name of the traitor." Vargas hesitated momentarily, then shouted, "I know the old code word."
"If I am to believe you, then you must tell me the old code word, the one my father and his American friends used," Sabino said.
"Bubba," Vargas said, then shouted, "Bubba!"
The old man who had introduced Sabino to the crowd gasped. The young rebel leader leaned forward and offered his hand to Vargas, then helped him to stand.
Suddenly the world shifted gears. Movement slowed. Sounds blurred. Murdock released Catherine's hand, aimed his HK53 carbine and with one fatal shot, aimed right between the eyes, dropped Domingo Sanchez to the ground. The rifle Sanchez had aimed directly at Sabino fired, but the bullet went wild, just as Sanchez took his last breath. Several soldiers surrounded Sabino, protecting him with their own bodies. One of those men was Lieutenant Vargas. And at the same instant two soldiers tackled Murdock to the ground. He wrestled with them for a couple of minutes before subduing both men, but in the struggle he lost his weapon.
Catherine noticed the man dressed as a rebel soldier, who had been at Sanchez's side on the podium, turn and survey the crowd. His gaze halted on Murdock. That's when she recognized him. Manuel. Their driver when they'd first arrived in San Carlos. So Murdock had been right not to trust the man. He had apparently been the one to tell Sanchez about Murdock and Catherine and Sanchez had ordered their arrest.
Suddenly Manuel lifted his rifle. Her heart stopped for a split second as she realized what was about to happen. No, her mind screamed, no!
With the two soldiers still tugging on his arms, Murdock dragged them into the crowd as he searched for his rifle.
"Murdock!" Catherine yelled. "Watch out! Behind you!"
Manuel saw Catherine then and his attention turned from Murdock to her. He smiled as he braced his rifle on his shoulder and aimed. Not at Murdock, but at her. Before she had time to react, to run or drop to her knees, Murdock dove through the air. Two shots rang out simultaneously. Manuel cl
asped his chest and crumpled to his knees. As blood trickled from his mouth and pumped from his heart, he fell over dead. As he shoved Catherine to the ground and covered her protectively, Murdock's big body blocked the bullet intended for her.
When she wrapped her arms around him, her hand encountered a wet sticky substance on his shoulder. Blood!
"Murdock. Oh, God, Murdock!"
"Stop shouting in my ear, Cat," he grumbled, then rolled off her and struggled to stand.
She hoisted herself onto her feet, then slid her arm around his waist. "You're shot."
"Dammit, woman, don't you think I know that!"
"How bad is it? We'll get you to a hospital right away. You're a hero, you know. You saved Vincente Sabino's life as well as mine. He'll be grateful. He'll see to it that you're taken care of."
She babbled on and on, clinging to Murdock, tears streaming down her face. Even when Lieutenant Vargas brought Vincente Sabino to meet his savior, Catherine couldn't stop rattling or crying.
The man she loved was alive and safe. That was all that mattered right now.
* * *
With his arm in a sling, and wearing a clean set of camouflage fatigues, Murdock waited with Catherine at the edge of the airstrip. Now that the rebel forces controlled three-fourths of the country and all flights in and out of Zaraza were at their discretion, Dundee's had flown in a helicopter. The pilot, Matt O'Brien, waited for his passenger.
"Take care of Lanny," Murdock said. "And when he's all well, let him take care of you, too, honey." He caressed her cheek.
She leaned her face into his palm, savoring the feel of his flesh against hers. Then she quickly righted herself and squared her shoulders. "I wish you were coming with me."
"I can't leave," he told her. "Not yet."
MURDOCK'S LAST STAND Page 19