Keep My Baby Safe

by Bella Grant

  Dan forced a smile. “What are the differences, other than the length of time?”

  “Our one-day package is exactly what it says. You leave our dock at ten o’clock for a trip down the Hangula River. It will be you and seven other guests in a power boat, along with a tour guide. You will make several stops along the river to enjoy the wildlife. An authentic tribal meal will be provided at a local village, after which you will resume your tour, returning to our dock at approximately 6:00 p.m. The cost of that tour is nine-hundred fifty Marands each. This is our most popular tour.”

  “When can we book a tour?”

  The man flipped open a book. “Our first available slot for two people will be in three weeks. We can accommodate one of you much earlier, but I’m sure you don’t want that.”

  Tasha smiled. “No.”

  “What about the other tours?” Dan asked.

  “The two and five-day tours take place on our converted riverboat, the Hangula Queen. The primary difference is how far down river you go. Each day you will have the opportunity to take side excursions in smaller boats into tributaries where the Queen can’t go. You will have the opportunity to visit several native villages and will see a much larger variety of plants and wildlife. Each side tour will be conducted by an expert guide. Each evening, you will return to the Queen where you will eat a splendid meal and spend the night. The two-day tours run Saturday and Sunday, the five-day tour Monday through Friday.”

  “The cost?” Dan asked, playing his part.

  “It depends on the accommodations you wish. We have two different sized rooms, plus the premier cabin, the largest and most luxurious accommodation available on the Queen. For the two-day tour, the cost will be eight-thousand, twelve-thousand, and twenty-two-thousand Marands. The five-day will be sixteen, twenty-five, and fifty-thousand, respectively.”

  “If we wanted to do the five-day tour, how long would the wait be?” Tasha asked, her eyes bright.

  “You can leave on Monday if you take the premier cabin.”

  She looked at Dan adoringly, leaning in close as she held his arm. “Can we?”

  He pretended to think about it. Last night they had researched Bruanwa Ecotours and agreed they would take the first five-day tour they could book. He didn’t care how much it cost. It wasn’t his money, but he didn’t want to seem to eager.

  “Sure,” he said after he thought he’d paused long enough.

  He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and peeled off fifty-thousand in Marand notes and passed them to the man. The booking agent smiled broadly as he took the money and picked up a pen.

  “Your names?”

  “Daniel and Laura Connolly,” Dan said, spelling the last name.

  The man wrote their name in the book. “Thank you, Mr. Connolly. I have your room reserved. The Queen will leave promptly a 10:00 a.m. on Monday morning. Please arrive at least thirty minutes early so we may make you comfortable for your trip.”

  Dan shook the man’s hand. “Looking forward to it.”

  When he and Tasha stepped out of Bruanwa Ecotours, the smile disappeared from Tasha’s face as if it had never been.

  “We have three days before our tour leaves.”

  She nodded. “That will give us time to make sure we’re not on a wild goose chase.”

  “Okay, what now?”

  “I want to pay a visit to the import company that brought in the lab equipment. Let me do the talking. You stand to the side and look tough. Don’t say anything, but follow my lead.” She paused as if thinking. “But first, we need to check to see if your suits are ready.”

  They picked up their clothing and returned to the hotel. She dressed in a severe dark blue suit and donned a dark wig. After looking over his selection of suits, she selected a dark grey for him and placed him in a sandy blond wig. She smoothed the suit over him, then handed him his weapon.

  “Carry this under the coat, but where you can display it. Now listen carefully. If I tap my thigh like this”—she touched her right thigh three times in quick succession— “I want you to open the coat to display the weapon. If I do the same on the other side, I want you to move slowly in on the mark, as if you are going to take the guy apart, got it? If I say Podozhdite, you stop, okay?”

  “Podozhdite?” he asked, stumbling over the word. “Is that Russian?”

  “Yeah. It means to hold or wait.”

  “Podozhdite,” he said again. “Okay, got it.”

  “If I say anything else in Russian, ignore it and look pissed off and mean.”

  “That’ll be easy to do.”

  She nodded. “Come along, Oleg, we have work to do.”

  They drove to the importer and parked at the curb. “You ready?” Tasha asked.

  “Yeah. I think. Podozhdite, right?”

  “Posozhdite,” she said, correcting his pronunciation.

  “Posozhdite,” he repeated. “Okay, yeah.”

  “Let’s go,” she said, opened her door, and stepped out.

  The sky was dark and threatening. It would rain later, as it had rained nearly every day since they’d landed in Orkut. The sky suited her mood. She entered the office with Dan close on her heels.

  “I’d like to speak to whoever is in charge,” she announced loudly, her Russian accent thick.

  The two women sitting at desks that shared space with the file cabinets in the large common room looked at each other. He could tell they were nervous over their no-nonsense appearance and attitude, not to mention her Russian accent. The world had changed a lot in the past thirty years, but the Russians still made good bogeymen.

  “I’m William Jalessi,” a well-dressed man said, stepping out of an office.

  “Are you the owner of this business?” Tasha demanded.

  “I am.”

  “You imported various biological lab equipment from Germany?” she asked.

  Dan had to work to not smile as she intentionally fractured her English so it wouldn’t appear to be her first language.

  “Perhaps,” William hedged. “If you’d like to step into my office?”

  Dan followed William and Tasha into the comfortable office. As William moved behind the desk, she sat down in one of the guest chairs. Dan closed the door and stood with his back to it so it couldn’t be opened as he glared at William, doing his best Russian thug imitation.

  “Now, how may I help you?” William asked.

  “You imported lab equipment?”

  “I import many things for customers. What kind of lab equipment?”

  “I’m interested in the shipment that contained the electron microscope and the centrifuge.”

  “I can’t comment directly because of client confidentiality, but what is this about?”

  “It’s about the manufacture of a biological weapon, Mr. Jalessi. It’s about the American soldiers killed here in Orkut. It’s about the Germans asking questions. It’s about world stability. I would be very interested in knowing what the Americans know, Mr. Jalessi.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re asking,” Jalessi said, but Dan could tell he was nervous.

  “Let’s not make this unpleasant. Pokazhi yemu,” she said as she tapped her right thigh. She didn’t bother to look to see if Dan flashed the weapon. “Just answer my question and we’ll be on our way. Why were there American soldiers in Orkut, and what were they looking for?”

  “I really can’t answer your question. Why would I know?”

  “This equipment, it could be used to develop a weapon, yes?”

  “I really don’t know. If a customer asks for something, I merely obtain it. What they do with it is their business.”

  She smiled coldly. “I see. You admit you imported these items?”

  “I’d have to check my records. I can’t remember every—”

  “I can save you the trouble. You did. Who was your customer?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Please, Mr. Jalessi,” she said politely, but he clearly heard the threa
t.

  “I don’t know!” he corrected. “It was a cash deal, no questions asked.”

  She nodded. “You have a way to contact this customer?”

  “A phone number, that’s all.”

  “Give it to me.”

  William dug in his desk a moment and produced a card with a phone number written on it in pen. He handed it across. She took it and rose. “Thank you, Mr. Jalessi,” she said as she turned toward the door. “Poyekhali.” Dan didn’t know what the word meant, but he understood her meaning as she approached the door. He opened it for her and followed her out, closing the door behind him without a backward glance.

  They got in the Toyota and sped away. “What happened to covert?” Dan asked.

  “That was covert. Now someone will think the Russians are involved.” She dialed the number on the card, but the call didn’t complete. “As I suspected. A burner phone.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Circle back around, then park somewhere so we can see the door,” she said as fat raindrops began to splatter on the windshield.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “He gave up the number too easily. I don’t think for a minute this is his only way of contacting Kangka. He passed a signal to one of the girls before we went into the office. The rest was a stall to give her time to do whatever it was she was going to do.” She flicked the card with her finger. “This is the distraction. We’re supposed to waste a lot of time chasing down this phone, but what we’re going to do instead is see who shows up. That’s why I didn’t squeeze him anymore. I wanted to get out of there before we were made.”

  He looked at her. He still had so much to learn. He hadn’t seen William pass a sign, and she’d already planned their next moves before William had even handed her the card. She was simply amazing.

  “Why wouldn’t they just call?” he asked.

  “Because the NSA listens to everyone and they’ll be afraid someone will overhear. This will be a face to face meeting.”

  They pulled to the curb a half block away. If it weren’t for the rain, they’d have a good view of the entrance to Grand Orkut Imports. They sat for almost an hour before a new, silver Mercedes glided to a stop in the rain. A well-dressed man exited the rear of the car and entered the building. Dan alternated his attention between the car and watching Tasha as she typed the plate number of the car into her phone. After a moment, her phone chimed.

  “The car is registered to Kangka.”

  “What a surprise,” Dan muttered. They waited only a few minutes more before the man appeared again. “Is that Kangka?”

  “I can’t tell, but I don’t think so. Follow them,” she ordered.

  Natasha

  Tasha sighed as they entered their room. They had followed the Merc to a large compound outside Talish. They hadn’t stopped as the car turned into the walled, gated house and had simply driven past. A quick check with ‘The University’ confirmed it was Kangka’s estate.

  Dan wanted to return and infiltrate the house to look for the Griffins, but she’d rejected that idea. The place was a fortress, and she didn’t want to risk the exposure until she was sure the Griffins were there. They would have only one chance to snatch the doctors. If they got it wrong, they would have tipped their hand and wouldn’t get another chance. She didn’t think the Griffins were there anyway. Too much risk. Kangka would want some distance between himself and the Griffins to maintain deniability in case something went wrong.

  On the way back to their hotel, the guilt began to squeeze her heart again. When she was focused on the mission, she could keep the pain at bay, but at night, alone with her thoughts, her burden became almost unbearable.

  They showered. Even the sight of Dan’s sculptured body as he removed his shirt couldn’t lift her mood. She claimed the bed as he dragged his chairs in front of the door. This was their third night in this room. If Kangka’s goons hadn’t broken down their door yet, they weren’t likely to, but she said nothing. It was probably Dan’s way to avoid touching her.

  She sniffed, her nose stopped up from her silent weeping. She was coming apart. Even Roger’s death hadn’t hit her this hard. Maybe it was because there was a possibility what had happened in Russia wasn’t her fault, while this time there was no doubt.

  She felt the bed move and spun with a gasp as she grabbed for her weapon hidden under the pillow.

  “Easy,” Dan whispered, grabbing her hand to protect himself from being shot. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I heard you crying.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be. Is it Derrick and Rich?” She nodded as she sniffed again. “Why are you tearing yourself up? I told you it wasn’t your fault, it was mine.”

  “You tried to warn me, but—”

  He placed his fingers against her lips. “Don’t.”

  “I can’t get past it, Dan. I should have known.”

  “How? How could you have known?”

  “You knew.”

  “I told you, I didn’t know either.”

  “You suspected.”

  He shook his head in the dimness. “No.”

  She stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘no.’ If you didn’t suspect them, then why did you try to stop Rich?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter. It matters to me. I’ve played it over a thousand times in my head, and I don’t know what I missed. What did you see, or hear, or suspect? Please, tell me.”

  “Nothing. I didn’t see or hear anything.”

  Again, she stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Tasha. What matters—”

  “It does matter. Do you know what I was doing when Derrick was killed? I was lying in my bed fingerfucking myself while I listened to him fucking that bitch. Maybe if I’d paid a little more attention instead of fucking around, they would still be alive.” He stared at her a moment, an emotion playing across his face she couldn’t read. “Please, I have to know. What did I miss?”

  He sighed. “You didn’t miss anything. That’s what I keep telling you. You’re amazing. What you did in the Grand Orkut Imports office today was like magic. You were three steps ahead of me, and everyone else, from the beginning. If there was something to see with those women, you would have seen it.”

  “So how did you know?”

  “I didn’t,” he snarled, then softened. “I didn’t know. I just...” His voice trailed off.

  She waited, sensing he was wrestling with himself.

  “I’ve never told anyone this,” he finally said, his voice faint and his eyes downcast.

  “You can tell me,” she whispered. “Nothing you say will ever leave this room. How did you know?”

  “I didn’t, but…what happened to Rich and Derrick almost happened to me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My last mission. I was sent to Mexico to extract the crew of a downed C-130.”

  She nodded. “I saw it in your file.”

  He looked at her with haunted eyes. “What you saw is a lie.”

  “A lie?”

  He nodded. “A lie. I lied in the debrief.”

  Her blood ran cold. “What happened? Start at the beginning.”

  He swallowed hard. “Last year, there was an earthquake in Mexico, remember?” She nodded but said nothing. “The U.S. sent a C-130 loaded with relief supplies. It was an all-female crew manning the plane. On the way back, the plane went down. Officially, it was engine trouble. In reality, it was taken down by the Mexican drug cartel. The U.S. didn’t want to publicly admit that some spic with a shoulder-fired missile could take down one of our planes, but I heard the radio traffic. The pilot was Major Gretchen Kork. She radioed that she saw the missile trail when the shit was hitting the fan.”

  He stopped, but she didn’t say anything, letting him tell it in his own time. So far, his version matched with the ac
count she’d read.

  “She damned near saved that plane,” he continued. “Nobody knew for sure where they went down, but I was scrambled. We were racing the fucking drug cartel. By the time I arrived, they’d located the wreckage. It was in the middle of the godforsaken jungle. It was at least a three-day’s walk from the nearest road. We went in to get the crew out. When we arrived on scene, they had to lower me down on top of the fuselage because the surrounding jungle was so thick. I got inside. Major Kork and Sergeant Natalie Page, the loadmaster, were still alive. The co-pilot, Captain Melissa Chaney, was dead.”

  He looked at her, his eyes far away, and he was clearly back in the jungle reliving the event. “The missile had taken off the wing between the number one and number two engines. It was amazing anyone was still alive. Chaney had been killed when a tree limb came through the glass and crushed her skull. Page had a broken leg, and Kork was beat all to shit, cut up from debris in the cockpit. But the fact that two of them had survived the missile and the crash was a testament to the skill of the flight crew.”

  She nodded again, wondering where the lie came in. So far, his account was straight out of the debrief.

  “I got Page in the basket and she was hauled up to the chopper. I was getting Gretchen—Major Kork—ready for evac when another missile took out the chopper. I saw it only a second or two before it hit. They never had a chance and the damn thing nearly fell on us. It was almost certainly taken down by the same people who took down the plane. Kork had managed to coax that bird well away from where she took the missile, so I knew they were coming, and they were close. If they reached us before we got help, we were dead. I made sure she could walk, and we got the fuck out of there.”

  He paused as he watched her eyes. “We walked for five fucking days while the cartel looked for us. We were out of food, out of water, and were living off the land as much as we could. I gave Kork all the antibiotics I had, but the wound in her side was becoming infected. She was running a high fever, but she never gave up.” His eyes dropped. “She never gave up,” he repeated softly.

  “We finally made Cacahuatal, a shithole of a town in the middle of the fucking jungle. She could barely walk, so I stashed her and went into a bar. There was no phone, no nothing.”