But this woman made him want to believe.
He turned away from her in disgust at himself. He didn’t know this woman. She could be the worst humanity had to offer for all he knew. Didn’t matter if she was brave and kind and strong.
Though he couldn’t quite seem to convince himself of that.
Outside the window, movement flickered at the edge of the trees. He couldn’t see what it was. A panther? Or was that…?
Oh, shit.
He spun around. “Call Charlie back, tell him not to land.” Urgency thrummed through him. From the air, Charlie wouldn’t see the men surrounding them. He’d be a sitting duck as soon as he got into range.
“What? Why?”
“The rebels. They’re here. Quickly!” He pushed her lightly in the direction of the radio. She picked up the receiver and spoke into it. He couldn’t see her lips move—her back was to him—but he glanced out the window in time to see Charlie veering away.
“Tell him we’ll meet him across the border in Colombia. He’ll have to wait for us. I don’t want him to try landing in Zolego again.”
Jessica nodded and then relayed that to Charlie. Tension lined her frame, and even without his hearing, he knew her voice would be taut and urgent.
The rebels were closing in. As soon as the plane turned around, they’d come out of hiding, moving in the direction of the tower. The men were in the open, sitting ducks.
“I’m going to shoot these guys,” he announced. Damned if he’d let them take Jessica again. No matter who or what she might be, he was hired to do a job, and he intended to do it. His mission was to get Jessica out of the country by any means necessary, and that’s what he intended to do, regardless of her bleeding heart.
He didn’t turn to see if Jessica said anything to stop him, so he stuck the gun out of the open window and pulled the trigger. He laid down fire, not aiming at the rebels in spite himself. Jessica must be rubbing off on him.
“Head for the trees,” he called to her as the rebels scattered back. He’d provide cover fire while she escaped, then head after her.
But instead of obeying him, she appeared at his elbow. He glanced her way, frowning. Why wasn’t she following orders?
“They won’t hurt me,” she declared, tugging on his arm. “They need me alive.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“Maybe not certain, but it’s a good bet. There’s no reason for them to come after me if they don’t want me as a hostage. They must want me returned to them, or they wouldn’t have bothered chasing us.”
“So, you want to go back to them?” he asked incredulously.
She shook her head. “Stay behind me and they won’t shoot.”
He stared at her in horror. There was no way he’d let her protect him. It was his job to protect her for fuck’s sake.
“You don’t know that and I’m not taking the chance. Get to the trees.”
“Not without you.”
Her jaw was set in a stubborn line. There was no way he’d convince her to see reason. Not in the limited time he had.
She tugged on his arm again, and this time he followed her to the door. Below, a group of men in ragged clothes waited for them, guns ready. Mike raised his weapon, ready to fire. But then Jessica stepped in front of him with her arms up, a gesture of surrender. The damned woman wouldn’t be reasonable.
The rebels hesitated for a split second, giving Mike enough time to pull the trigger. The men dove for cover, away from his haphazard bullets. One caught a man in the shoulder and he went down, clutching at the wound.
Jessica turned an outraged glare on him, but he ignored her, shoving her towards the stairs. She stumbled, then righted herself, running down the steps as he followed. He shot in the direction of anyone who got too close, keeping them all at a distance. They were all reluctant to fire, with Jessica so close. She was clearly right that they wanted her alive.
But it was inevitable that some brave soul would shoot at them regardless. The air moved as a bullet whipped past his head. Mike ducked but kept moving. He glanced in the direction the shooter must be, in time to see a young guy with shaking hands, panic written across his features.
It was never clearer to Mike that these rebels were untrained. This guy was a kid, and one who had no idea how to hold a weapon.
Guilt burrowed into him. It was almost cruel for a man like himself to go against inexperienced kids. He’d had a decade in the military, and some of the most rigorous training known to man. Even with their numbers, it wasn’t a fair fight.
Maybe what Jessica said had some truth to it.
But he couldn’t think about that now. Not when these rebels—inexperienced or no—might shoot both Mike and the woman he was here to protect.
He raised his gun and fired at their feet, aiming precisely so it looked like he was attempting to hit them. It worked. They stumbled away from him.
A man about two decades older than Mike stood up in a Jeep beyond the main clutch of rebels, the same one Mike had seen at the compound. He was definitely the leader of the ragtag group, since he wore an actual uniform. Mike didn’t know what the unfamiliar patches and symbols on his jacket meant, but they seemed impressive. This man’s bearing clearly indicated he’d been properly trained, as Mike had been.
The leader of the rebels? Maybe. He certainly looked dignified enough. And the determined fury on his face made Mike’s stomach tighten. This guy was dangerous, no question.
But that didn’t matter now. Not when he needed to get Jessica to safety.
Mike fired again, driving the rebels back from the path to the forest. Many of them were so distracted dodging the bullets coming their way they lowered their guns. Mike took full advantage, pushing Jessica between the trees. He backed in behind her, keeping his eyes on the rebels and his gun trained on them, daring them to make a move. But they didn’t. They only watched him and Jessica go with desperation in their eyes.
Once they were out of sight, Mike turned and ran, dragging Jessica behind him.
Well, this had turned into quite a clusterfuck.
Chapter 5
“How long to the border?” Jessica asked and took a sip of water.
“A week, give or take,” Mike said with a shrug.
Jessica choked on the water she’d swallowed. “A week?” Her voice came out at a screech, and for once she was glad Mike was deaf so he couldn’t hear the unflattering sound.
He nodded. “It’s not ideal. We’ll have to rethink our strategy.”
Jessica stared at him in the darkening twilight. They’d stopped for a drink a few minutes ago, finally giving Jessica a chance to catch her breath. Now, though, the oppressive air of the rainforest was like a vice on her lungs, squeezing it so tight she could barely breathe.
She’d been so looking forward to being home. A shower. Safety. Tears sprang to her eyes at the knowledge she’d have to wait another full week for all those things.
“Will we be in the jungle the whole time?” she asked in a small voice.
“Well, we’re in the middle of the Amazon. It’s not like there are many cities between us and the border.”
“So, it’ll just be us…in this?” Jessica knew she sounded ungrateful, but Jesus this isn’t what she’d wanted. She’d managed to hold it together this far, but panic and desperation were setting in. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to do this.
“Probably safest,” Mike answered. “We have no idea who to trust. If someone tells the rebels where we are, they’ll come after us. And I think they’ll be better prepared next time.”
“How did they find us?” she asked. Surely they’d moved fast enough that the rebels would have struggled to catch up with them. She’d barely kept up, and she was decently fit. Nothing like Mike, of course, with his insane body and endless stamina. But the rebels would have been closer to her level than Mike’s inhuman abilities.
“They had transport,” he said. “At least one car. They must have figured out our
destination and grabbed the Jeeps, gone around the long way.”
She hadn’t considered that. “Oh crap. Do you think that will happen again?”
“They’ll meet us at the border, you mean? I doubt it. That’s a long stretch of land, and the rebels have no way of knowing where we’ll come out. I think if they want to catch us, they’d be better off tracking us.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“No,” he replied, jaw tense. Clearly, he didn’t like not having the answers. “So we’ll have to be prepared for an attack from ahead or behind.”
Jessica let out a long breath. “A week,” she murmured in a small voice. The tears she’d fought off moments ago came back with a vengeance, and this time she couldn’t blink them away. They slipped down her cheeks as she thought about the long, difficult hike ahead of her. She wanted to be home, dammit.
There was a light touch on her arm, almost hesitant. Jessica didn’t even think. She tipped forward with her eyes closed until her forehead landed on Mike’s chest. She let out a sob, and his arms came around her.
Under normal circumstances, a man like Mike would not be her first choice for comfort as she cried. In fact, he’d probably be the last. But since he was the only other person for miles around that didn’t want to kidnap or hurt her, she took what she could get as she wept into his hard chest.
To her surprise, he wasn’t terrible at comforting her. His arms were strong and warm as they wrapped around her, his hands firm as he rubbed her back. He didn’t berate her for being weak, or tell her to suck it up and get over it as she might have expected. Instead, he murmured soothing nonsense sounds, the noise as comforting as the deep vibration coming from his chest as he did so.
So Jessica let herself feel. The hopelessness, the regret, the frustration, the anger. All the emotions that had been building in her, that she’d put off when she thought she’d be home soon, intending to deal with them later.
It wasn’t only today, or the long journey ahead of them. It was the last week, since the rebels had burst into the orphanage and threatened her and those children. Nothing had gone right for her since that moment.
It had been an insanely difficult time, and her nerves had been stretched thin. The ticket home had been so close before it had been snatched away again. She’d wanted to cry as she’d told Charlie to turn back, to meet them over the border. She’d held on thinking it couldn’t be too far away, but she’d been wrong. So wrong.
“A week,” she sobbed, but of course Mike didn’t reply.
She took a deep breath. Okay, a week. It wasn’t so terrible in the grand scheme of things. They only had to survive a week in the jungle with no supplies and they’d be fine. Piece of cake.
As much as the idea panicked Jessica, Mike wasn’t freaking out. So he mustn’t be concerned they’d die out here. He must have a plan.
She took comfort in that strength, drawing it into her. They’d be fine. The news was a shock, is all.
Jessica sucked in another breath, and another, until she steadied. Then, she slowly eased herself away from Mike’s chest. She was surprisingly reluctant to go, finding she’d be happy spending a lot more time in his arms, against those hard muscles. And from the slow way he released her, perhaps he felt the same.
Mud was smeared where she’d pressed her face against him. She’d forgotten about the stupid mask on her face.
She glanced up to apologize, only to be frozen by the expression on his face. It was a kind of tenderness that was wholly unexpected. Maybe it was a trick of the rapidly fading light. She shook herself. What had she been saying?
“Are you okay?” Mike asked on a rumble.
She nodded. “I’m sorry about that. It’s out of my system now.”
He smiled. “It’s okay. I’m upset, too. This wasn’t how I planned this mission to go.”
“You don’t look very upset,” she said doubtfully.
“I’m crying on the inside,” he said with a wink. She laughed, as he’d no doubt meant her to.
Then, he pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on. She sighed.
“We have to keep going?” she asked.
“Just a little farther. I need to find a good place to stop.” He checked the clip on the automatic rifles they’d been carrying, then threw them to the side. They must be empty.
Jessica was ready to sleep right here. Every part of her ached. She’d been walking all day, she was soaked in sweat, and she was sure her feet were blistered. But instead of saying any of that, instead of crying again, she straightened her spine and nodded.
They headed off, Jessica following the flashlight through the darkness. It could only have been thirty minutes when Mike stopped again.
“Here?” Jessica asked when he turned to her.
“Here,” he confirmed.
She sank to the soft forest floor in relief. “Thank God.”
“You, uh, might not want to stay down there. The insects, you know.”
Jessica immediately scrambled to her feet. “What? Are you kidding?” She searched the ground in the pale light of the flashlight but couldn’t see any creepy crawlies.
“Not kidding,” Mike said. “I’ll have to make us some hammocks to sleep on, to avoid them. The chigoes alone live a few inches beneath the surface, and they’d love to latch onto you. We’re also close enough to water that you might get some leeches.”
Jessica swallowed, scared she might faint. Leeches? No, thank you.
Mike set down his pack. “Sit on that for now. I’ll make camp.”
“I’ll help,” Jessica declared, not willing to get too close to the ground.
Mike bent down and grabbed a metal pot from his pack. “There’s a stream down there,” he said, pointing with the flashlight. She could see a trickle of water at the edge of the beam. “Fill this with water, but don’t drink it. We’ll need to boil it first.”
Jessica nodded and did as he instructed. As much as the water tempted her, she trusted Mike’s advice and didn’t drink it. She did, however, wash the mud from her face and hands. If it had been deep enough, she would have stripped down and dived in, Mike be damned, but the stream barely covered the pot.
She did strip off her outer shirt and sluice water over her arms and underarms. Washing off the sweat made her feel slightly more human, but it wasn’t perfect. She’d never take a shower for granted ever again.
By the time she returned to Mike, he had a small fire crackling merrily and a collection of various plants waiting nearby.
“Won’t they see the fire?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe, but I think the undergrowth is dense enough to hide it unless they’re right on top of us.”
He took the water from her and hung it over the fire using sticks he’d propped into a frame. Then, he wrapped the various vegetables in some kind of large leaf and dug them into the embers of the fire. When that was done, he stood.
“I need to get some stuff for the hammocks. Don’t go anywhere.”
Like she had any intention of wandering off into the darkness. But she didn’t say that to him, simply nodded and watched as he strode around at the edge of the fire’s light.
“Aha,” he said eventually, and came back with a couple of young bamboo shoots even taller than he was.
“You’re making a hammock out of bamboo?” she asked. “I didn’t even know bamboo grew here.”
“It’s native to the far east, but it’s spread everywhere tropical. I was surprised to find some this deep in the rainforest, though.”
She nodded. “So how do you make a hammock out of that?”
“Let me show you,” he said with a grin. He dug a piece of oiled fabric from his pack—a raincoat?—and laid it out. “You’ll have to sit next to me. I’ve only got one of these.”
He sat, and Jessica moved hesitantly over and lowered herself beside him. Her butt barely fit on the fabric. She had to press herself to his side, so close she could feel every hard inch of him.
He seemed wh
olly unaffected by her presence, so she did her best to ignore the heat radiating from him. Instead, she watched as he cut slices in one of the bamboo shoots, about a foot from each end. He used a shorter knife than the kukri blade, much more convenient for the small work. How many weapons did he carry on him?
She was almost afraid to ask.
He sliced longways on the bamboo, from the point of his previous cut to the other, until he pulled off the top, leaving a canoe shape behind. He stood and pulled some vines down from the nearest tree, tying one solidly around each end of the bamboo. Then, he used the knife to cut two-inch strips in the canoe part of the bamboo. Jessica was fascinated, watching his deft hands work quickly and efficiently on the pliable wood. Then, he fanned out the strips, testing them, but they bounced back into position.
Next, he took the discarded lid of the canoe and cut it into more strips. He wove those strips through the others, fanning them out again. This time, with the other strips woven through, they stayed fanned out. Exactly in the shape of a hammock.
“Oh my goodness, that’s so clever,” she murmured.
“Not the most comfortable, but it’ll do,” he said. “Better than sleeping on the forest floor, believe me.”
She thought again of the chigoes he’d described and shivered. She had no doubt he was right.
He tied up the hammock, and then made swift work of another one. “If I’d known we’d be spending the night, I might have brought some hammocks with me,” he said on a sigh as he tied the second hammock between two trees on the opposite side of the fire to the first one.
“Why didn’t you bring at least one anyway? In case?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I was jumping out of a plane, into the rainforest, in the dark. I didn’t want my pack to be any heavier than necessary.”
She exhaled. Yeah, that made sense. “Well, I’m glad you’ve got the skills necessary to survive out here without all the supplies.”
On the Move: Soldiering On Security #6 Page 5