by Aliyah Burke
It wasn’t your clinic! She bit her lip to keep her comment contained. “I don’t know. Just did it right at sunrise.”
“Just the clinic?”
She nodded. He said those three words as if he were talking about a mosquito he’d just killed.
He turned to his men and shouted a command. Immediately, the others headed for the backs of the trucks, but her feet dragged.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a ride to the river.”
Suspicion overflowed. “Why?”
His dead eyes narrowed. “Because I said so. Get in the truck.”
Tate gave her a slight nudge. “Thank you; we’d appreciate the ride.” He guided her to the back and helped her up where she sat amongst armed men and scared villagers.
She looked over her shoulder in time to see Tate shoved into a separate truck. At least they are allowing him to come along. In vehicles, the trip didn’t take long to the river.
They all disembarked, and she stood under the thatched roof, bag at her feet. She propped her shoulder against the post. Exhaustion filled her and she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep.
She walked over to the man who’d brought her there and stared up at him. “Thank you.”
His smile only freaked her out. “I am always here to help what’s mine.”
“Well, we definitely appreciate it.” She peered about for Sarki, who was avoiding him.
“You’ll make it up to me.”
Wasn’t sure that hell had frozen over. She kept that response to herself as well. “I should get to work; we’ve got a lot to do.”
Two steps before he gripped her arm. “I don’t usually ask.”
“Excuse me.” She pulled free and walked away. This had just escalated even further.
Chapter Seven
Tate longed to strangle the fucker for touching her. Instead, he helped get some of the children a bit more settled. He needed to use the phone he swiped to call and give a change of pickup. He slanted his gaze back to Albany. While he wouldn’t have a secure line or a sat uplink, he could still get the information out.
He looked to his bag and began in its direction when that skitter went up his spine. Seconds later, the rumble of powerful engines reached his ears. Years of service and staying alive in hostile territory had honed his instincts. And they were screaming at him that shit was about to hit the fan.
He never ignored them and went toward Albany, determined to keep her safe. The fancy Land Rovers rolled into view, and the other group jumped in their trucks. They tore out of there, vanishing into a cloud of dust.
Scanning the gathered crowd, Tate looked at Sarki. The tilt of her lips bothered him. I think she was right, and this woman is involved. The SUVs screeched to a halt, fishtailing a bit. The doors opened and men streaked out, weapons leveled at everyone.
“Where is it?” Mykelti demanded.
“Where’s what?” Albany questioned, pushing her way to the front.
“Sarki?”
Tate watched the woman move up. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anything,” she said. “Even with the deaths, I didn’t see any sign that anyone has the vials. No case either.”
He heard Albany’s gasp as it all clicked, and there was no longer any doubt.
“Someone here knows,” Mykelti said. His lean fingers stroked the muzzle of his weapon. “And I want answers.” His eyes did the same thing to Albany as his fingers were doing to the automatic in his hand.
Tate bit back his snarl. She was his, not for anyone else to be taking a look at like that.
“This is how it’s going to work. I get what I want, and I leave with Albany. I don’t. I kill people until no one is left. Then, I take Albany and exact it from you.”
He stepped forward, drawing up when three muzzles lifted in his direction. The fuck he’d let them take her.
“What are you looking for?” Albany asked.
“Vials, all my vials and my zip drive.”
“All the vials I had you destroyed when you blew up my clinic,” she snapped.
“Shut up,” he growled, backhanding her.
Tate lunged toward her, only to be stopped by looking up at the AK in his face. The man there just shook his head.
“Albany?” he asked. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she uttered, climbing to her feet.
Tate watched as she wiped the blood away from her mouth. More vehicles sounded, and Mykelti and his men reacted instantly.
The bullets arrived before the vehicles stopped. This wasn’t going to be good, for the new arrivals were Mykelti’s brother and his men.
“Scatter!” Tate yelled as the two siblings and their factions opened fire on each other. He dove to the ground, rolling out of the way. How the fuck do I get into situations like this? As he scrambled to his feet, he noticed Sarki running with one hand in her pocket. Uncommon, for people hauling ass for their life didn’t normally do so with one hand in a pocket. People who did that didn’t want to lose something. Something small, like a zip drive.
The screams grew as villagers died. It was its own civil war, right now. Brother against brother, and innocents caught in-between. He reached for a gun off a dead man when someone kicked it away. A young man, barely twenty stood there about to take the shot when a hole appeared in his head.
Tate snatched the weapon, even as it fell from lifeless fingers and ran. That wasn’t one of these jackasses. That was a sniper who took him out. He checked the magazine on the AK and slammed it back home. Then, he went to find Albany.
She squared off with Sarki. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but the women weren’t having a lovely conversation. Sarki had a Beretta pointed at Albany. He raised his weapon and fired. Sarki flew back and hit the ground.
“Move, Albany!”
She scrambled off, and he stopped by Sarki and checked her pockets. Drive in hand, he ran after Albany.
She, slowed and he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t slow down.” He crested the small rise leading to the river and damn near shoved her down. “Stay here.”
The loud explosion whipped him around as he spied a rocket launcher. This took sibling rivalry and quarrels to a whole new level. Some of the villagers hadn’t gotten out of the way and lay dead. They were massacring one another. And more arrived from both sides.
A helicopter appeared, and the familiar sound of an M60 reached him as they took out members of both sides. Those remaining bugged out, and he ran to Albany, grabbing her close, planting a kiss on her. He took deep breaths, trying to assure himself she was fine.
On the air, Tate heard the whoop whoop of a landing helo. It was his ride. His job was done. Time to go home.
He wiped the sweat away from his face and watched Albany run to the nearest injured and begin issuing orders. She was a quiet force amongst the chaos. Her khaki pants were torn and dirty. Her Star Wars shirt had seen its final day. Hair blew around her gently, courtesy of the breeze. He moved back to her side, even though he understood he should be headed to the helicopter.
He glanced at her upturned face. “Time to go.”
Her gaze drifted left to where the body of her friend Sarki lay covered by a sheet. “I’m not good on goodbyes, so let’s skip it.”
“I’m taking you with.” He needed to kiss her, again, longing to convince himself she was truly okay.
She shook her head. “I can’t go with you.” Albany brushed the hair out of her eyes.
“This isn’t safe. You’re a target.”
“I’m always a target.” She moved the stubborn strand, once more.”
“Albany, come with us. I can get you back to the States.”
She wiped at the dried blood on her cheek. “No. I won’t leave them without a doctor.” Her smile broke his heart. “You got what you came for; you should get going.”
Shit, this was the most difficult thing he’d ever done. He didn’t want to leave her; he wanted to take care of her.
“I can’t leave
you here.”
“We need to leave, sir.” The call reached him, and she looked past to the man he knew was approaching.
“Give me a minute,” he barked at the man who neared. “Albany.”
“No, I can’t go. I can’t leave them without a doctor. They need me, just like GAPS needs you.”
I need you.
“No.”
“Sir. We have to leave.”
“He’s right. You have the material, and from having seen you pull something off Sarki, the drive. Your job’s done. It’s what you SEALs do. In and out. Go home, Tate.”
If he’d not captured the wobble in her tone, his heart may have shattered. He’d fallen for her. This brave, crazy doctor. Tears shone in her eyes as she stepped back from him. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to pull her closer, kiss her, and hold her. Sink between her thighs and allow her to take him away to a place only she could bring him.
“Take care, Tate Irvin.”
“Sir!”
“Fuck.” He ran with the man to the chopper. “What?”
“We need to go. Do you have the items?”
Tate glanced back to Albany who waited, arms crossed.
“Sir?”
He ground his jaw. “Yes.” His anger melted into sorrow. “I have it all.”
“There’s a case on board, sir. We really need to go before they send in jets to find out who we are and why we’re here in Cameroon. I was told we were exfiling two. Where’s the other passenger?”
Albany remained there, hip cocked as she braced most weight on one side. The wind picked up around them.
“No one else is coming.” He climbed in. “I’m the only one.”
The man at the M-60 shoved a case in his direction. He dug for the vials and transferred them, grateful none broke open. The drive was added last. If he was lucky, it would be a list of Mykelti’s contacts.
The bird’s engine kicked up, lifting them into the air. Moments before they banked left, Tate stole one final peek toward the ground. Albany hadn’t moved. Her head had tipped up, watching them leave.
The river off to her right sparkled in the sun. She stood amongst the slaughter. Alone. Fingertips to her lips, she turned her hand to him, in almost a wave, before pivoting and heading back to the structure where those who’ve survived had received medical attention.
Tate leaned back in his seat, ignoring his own injuries. “Hey,” he called out.
“Yes sir?”
“How’d you find me?”
“We received a call.”
He let it go at that; he had questions he was sure wouldn’t be answered. All the way back, he tried to rest but memories of Albany plagued him. Leaving her there went against everything he felt right in the world. For the first time, “mission first” were the worst two words he’d ever heard.
After his debrief with GAPS and ensuring the items got to the right hands, he returned to his rental in Virginia Beach. Beer in hand, he sank with a groan to his couch. Two long drinks, and it was empty. He pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes as he lingered over the mental image he had of Albany. He was in hell.
αβ
Albany walked from the Atlanta airport and winced, the traffic overly loud on her ears that hadn’t heard it for months. Albany trailed the driver who’d waited there with her name on a sign to the black town car with its tinted windows. Already, she felt the oppressive clutch of her parents closing around her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.
He placed her bag in the trunk and held the door for her. Sliding across the leather seat, she shut her eyes and waited for him to climb behind the wheel. She rubbed the top of her left foot with the bottom of her right and tried to relax.
Why had she come home? That’s right—the old man said no money to help if she didn’t. The clinic was important enough for her to buck up and face the music with her parents. Yes, months had passed, but things had finally settled down for her to plan building another clinic instead of using the makeshift one by the water. She didn’t want to stay that close to a watering source for large animals who may be attracted to the smell of blood. They got on their way, and the closer she got to her childhood home, the more uptight she became.
Her back was ramrod straight by the time they were headed up the long, winding drive to the massive house on the perfectly manicured lawn. Not even the shrubbery had the hutzpah to have leaves out of place. She chuckled as she thought of the great and powerful Oz, and the little man behind the curtain. Everyone in Emerald City feared the Oz. to her; it was the same with her father. As if their entire family was to make up for any black people who showed a less than perfect image.
It wasn’t fun growing up in this family. Shouldn’t complain, though. We had food and a roof over our head. Not to mention education. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful, but it wasn’t easy when, as a kid, she just longed to have normal friends and do regular kid things, like sleepovers and dating.
Christ, haven’t even gotten out yet and I’m on my way to an ulcer. The only good that came from this was it kept her mind off Tate Irvin. Or had until she’d just thought of him. The car came to a smooth halt, and she swung her gaze from the pristine yard and massive house to the tatty bag at her feet. Out of place, it’s how she’d always felt.
The door opened, and she stepped out into the late afternoon Georgia sun.
“Welcome home, Ms. Schovanec.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know his name; he was a new driver. Hefting her backpack over one shoulder, she waited for him to remove the larger bag from the trunk. More than capable of carrying her own, she bit her tongue and allowed him to do the job he was paid for.
The inside hadn’t changed, expensive art items strategically placed around, showing off the prosperity of the owners and, at the same time, not allowing children to run and play through the halls. The butler called for a maid to carry Albany’s bag, and she trailed the young woman up the gleaming staircase to her old room.
“Is the congressman home?” she asked as she stepped through the doorway to the room full of lace and frill.
“No, ma’am. Not yet. He’ll be home in time for your evening meal.”
“And the doctor?”
“Yes, I’m home, Albany.”
The strong voice reached her, and she turned in time to see her mother striding up, wearing a business suit, her heels making no noise on the carpeted floor.
Albany smiled, dropping her bag, and walked into her mother’s open arms. While known for air kisses and fake smiles, this was a real hug.
“Are you okay?” The question was whispered in her ear.
The maid left, and Albany nodded. “I am. Got a bit cut and beat up, but I’m fine.”
Her mother pulled her back in. “I was so worried when I heard about the clinic being blown up.”
“I’m fine, I promise.”
“I would love to demand you stay here, where you’re safe, but I know better. I can’t speak for the congressman, however.”
Albany pulled back and looked at her mother. Still an exquisite beauty with her smooth dark skin, shiny black hair, and perfect figure. I can only hope to look half as good as she does when I get to her age.
“We have a party tomorrow for you.” She stepped back and ran a critical eye over her daughter. “Yes, I think tomorrow will definitely be more conducive to what we’re trying to accomplish.”
Albany’s gut tightened. She looked down at her khakis and shirt which read, “I’m a doctor, not The Doctor.” She shrugged and fought a yawn. “What is it we’re trying to accomplish that tomorrow would be more conducive?”
“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. For your information, we’re holding a fundraiser for your clinic. A new clinic.”
“Mama,” she said with a grateful sigh. “Thank you so much.”
“I may be a lot of things, but I know how much it means to you. So does your father. He’s bringing in some of his people, as well. We would have done it tonight,
but I figured you’d be jetlagged and would want to sleep before making yourself more presentable.”
And there was the knife she’d been waiting for. “Of course. Thank you so much. I think I will get some sleep, and I’ll see you at dinner.”
Her mother stepped back and nodded. “Don’t forget, we dress for dinner.” Then, she was gone.
“Lord, I never know what to expect from that woman. Sugar with a side of venom.” Albany closed the door and padded to her bathroom where she stripped. Naked, she strode into the walk in shower and turned it on as hot as she could handle. Then, she turned on some music. Etta James sang “At Last” as she allowed the multiple shower heads to work their magic on her travel weary body. There were some definite perks to being home.
Exhaustion sinking in, she finished her shower, wrapped her hair in a towel and dried off. She moved to her chest of drawers and pulled the top one out, and withdrew an old college shirt that she tugged on over her head. Then, she went to her queen-sized bed, climbed in it, dragged the blankets up to her chin, and closed her eyes.
The following night, she stood in her room and dressed for the fundraiser. Her half-up hair style showed off her cheekbones and facial structure. She stared at her reflection as she critiqued her dress. The shimmery lace gown had crystal embellishments, cap sleeves, and a deep v’d back. The mermaid silhouette fit her curves perfectly. The gunmetal color worked very nicely with her skin tone.
“Not bad if I do say so myself.” She turned, once more, ensuring all was properly in place and nothing was showing that shouldn’t be. Wouldn’t do for her to embarrass her mother or father tonight. She’d slept the majority of yesterday and today, waking to eat then getting back into bed. Thankfully, her parents had left her alone.
She knew what was expected of her tonight, though, and while it was a game she abhorred, it was one she would play.
“Can’t put this off any longer.” She exited her room in time to see her parents coming from the other side of the house. Her father in a tuxedo and her mother in a black gown accentuating each inch of her.
“We were just on our way to get you,” she said.
“I’m ready. I remember these; hosts are always ready early.” She turned her cheek to get the kiss from her father and then the air kisses from her mother. Her game face was on. “Thank you both so much for doing this.”