Unmasking the Mercenary

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Unmasking the Mercenary Page 6

by Jennifer Morey


  “Habib comes here to meet his diamond contact.”

  “So after he gets the diamonds we…what? Follow him?” She saw the two single beds and ramshackle chair and grimaced. “Is there running water?”

  “If I hadn’t met you, Haley, I’d have never believed a woman like you existed. No, there’s no running water, but we’ll only be here one night.”

  What did he mean by that? What kind of woman did he think she was? “In other words, yes.” Did he think she was smart for figuring out what he intended? Or was there something else about her that struck him?

  He sent her a questioning look.

  “We’re going to follow Habib?”

  Rem broke his gaze from hers and went back to the SUV. He returned with a box and put it on a counter in the open kitchen area. She leaned over the box. Lantern. Freeze-dried food. A bottle of booze.

  “Are you always this prepared?” She'd let him evade her questions for now.

  He pulled the bottle of whiskey from the box. She lifted one brow. Just like a true-to-form gunslinger, he removed the cap and swigged. Then slouched onto the only chair in the dirty place.

  The last of daylight had all but faded to darkness. Around here, only the stars and moon provided light. Removing the lantern from the box, she put it at the end of the counter and lit it, all the while feeling Rem watch her.

  She took out the freeze-dried food and began to prepare a package of beef stroganoff. Yuck.

  “At least we won’t starve,” she quipped.

  “Haven’t you ever eaten like that before?”

  She nodded. “Yes. In the Army.”

  He was quiet for a while.

  “Why’d you quit?” he finally asked.

  A little zap of a shock bit her. She never talked about this. She stopped opening the package and glanced at him. Was he asking because she’d questioned him about his sister? Did he feel he could now? That he was allowed? No one had ever asked her about Iraq. Not directly and not since she had to when Army officials questioned her.

  “What happened to you?” he asked. And when she still didn’t reply, he added, “Is it the reason you do what you do?”

  “Look, I don’t bug you on your issues, so do me a favor and don’t bug me on mine.”

  His mouth closed and he just met her gaze. Then he said, “Angie was killed because of me.”

  She abandoned the package of freeze-dried food and gave him her full attention. “Why?”

  Again, he just met her gaze.

  “What happened?”

  “I interfered with the wrong people.”

  “Ammar?”

  “He was one of them.”

  “So, your sister was killed because you tried to do something good? Something right?”

  “You don’t know me,” he said, annoyance giving his tone an edge.

  “Terrorists deserve to die.” This time it was her who couldn’t keep the emotion out of her voice.

  “It doesn’t matter what they are to me.”

  She searched his face for a lie and didn’t find one. He wasn’t discriminating about who he killed. If they crossed his path…

  It sent a shiver of foreboding through her. She turned back to the package of freeze-dried food and dumped it into a bowl. Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe this feeling she had—that he’d been thrown into circumstances that had gotten out of control—was off.

  “What did you do in the Army? Before you went to work for the great and honorable Cullen McQueen?” he asked.

  “What’s wrong with being great and honorable?”

  “Nothing, so long as we don’t confuse controversial with honor. I’ve never understood why men like me get the bad reputation while men like McQueen get all the good press. We do the same thing, really. Kill people for shady causes. My missions may not have always been for the governing side, but I always knew who the innocents were.”

  “Then you aren’t any different than other men who fight for humanity.”

  He grunted and sipped more whiskey.

  “What happened with your sister?” she asked.

  “What happened to make you work for a secret counterterror outfit?”

  She wasn’t hungry anymore. “You want to eat, make your own dinner.” She went over to one of the single beds and debated whether she wanted to lie on it. When was the last time it was washed? Who’d lain on it last?

  “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours,” he said.

  A familiar, ugly sensation filled her. What scared her most was she felt compelled to tell him. That connection thing again. That feeling they had something important in common, no matter how grim its source. Would telling him help her let go? Why him? Why couldn’t it have been Travis?

  Travis had never pushed her. He was always too careful with her. Rem was…different. He didn’t coddle her. Didn’t treat her like a victim.

  “I don’t remember all of it,” she finally said, unable to stop whatever drew her. “I was a field artillery surveyor in the Army when our convoy was attacked.” What came next was a lot harder to say. She turned and sat on the bed, looking down at the floor. The last time she’d told anyone this was after her rescue. She’d never repeated it to anyone. “Our vehicle was trapped by debris after an explosion. We were overtaken by insurgents while we were stopped. Everyone was killed but me.” She hesitated. “Two of the insurgents captured me.”

  Rem leaned his head back on the chair and didn’t interrupt her.

  Images of the two insurgents coming after her were forever emblazoned in her mind. “They took me to an abandoned building and used their guns to beat me. I don’t remember what happened after that.” But that was where patches of the terror haunted her. “The next thing I do remember is a group of soldiers coming into the building and carrying me out on a stretcher. I was flown to a German hospital where I was treated, then sent home.” She couldn’t speak about what the doctors had told her. About the horrific abuses her body had suffered and that her mind had blocked out.

  Rem didn’t ask if she was raped and that relieved her. She didn’t think she’d be able to answer, anyway. It was still too painful to face.

  She was glad for the dim lighting in the small but open dwelling. Rem hadn’t moved. He still leaned his head back on the chair, bottle of whiskey in his hand and resting on one thigh.

  “I was on assignment in Argentina about three months ago,” he said. The sound of his voice was low and gruff but a little vulnerable. Odd for a man his size and with his demeanor. “We were supposed to be guarding a cattle ranch that was having trouble with rebels. At least, that’s what I was told. I never did see any sign of rebel activity while I was there.”

  He paused and she wondered if he’d continue. “It sounds dangerous,” she said.

  “Dane made it worth my while.”

  “You made a lot of money?”

  He sipped some whiskey and put the bottle back on his thigh. Of course, she knew he had. His villa proved it.

  “Who is Dane?”

  “One night I was on patrol when I caught one of the ranch workers raping a woman,” he said without answering. “When the guy fought me, I shot and killed him. Dane Charter, the one behind Charter Security, reprimanded me for it. He said whatever the ranch workers did was none of our business. That’s when I started to get suspicious about him. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed something odd on assignments. When I got back to the States, I stopped working for him.”

  “You stopped working for him because you were suspicious?” It didn’t seem like enough of a reason.

  “He was into drug dealing. Cocaine.”

  She searched his face. Why did she get the feeling he wasn’t telling her something? “Is that what the ranchers were doing?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw the drugs.”

  “Where? When?”

  “On that last assignment.”

  Was he being deliberately vague? “What did you do?�
��

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  Not walk away. She hadn’t known him long, but Rem walking away from anything didn’t wash.

  “How does your sister fit into all this?” she asked.

  “The man raping the woman in Argentina was someone Ammar knew, a business partner. In retaliation, he had a couple of his friends pay a visit to my sister.” He hesitated. “They killed her.”

  Haley closed her eyes to the horror she could so imagine. He didn’t have to tell her details. She knew them. When she opened her eyes, she saw Rem had put the bottle of booze aside. He stood with that fluid movement of his and came over to the bed. Sitting down on the other side of it, he lay on his back. When he opened his arm in silent invitation, she hesitated. If he was withholding information from her, should she trust him? If she wasn’t so tired, maybe not. But she was, and thinking about Iraq had her dreading the night. Putting her questions aside for now, she lay against him.

  The warmth that enveloped her came from more than his body heat. How could it feel so right being so close to him? She didn’t want to analyze it. Tonight she’d let herself fall into this contentment. Tomorrow, she’d listen to her mind.

  Haley sat with her feet on the chair, holding a cup of coffee in front of her bent knees, unable to stop looking at Rem. He leaned against the wall next to a window, staring across the street, surveying the road and the tangle of jungle beyond. She was supposed to be distancing herself today. But the feelings from last night still circled her heart. They'd shared something intensely personal. And now they were closer.

  His defensiveness against men of Cullen McQueen’s caliber made a convincing argument that was what he craved most in life. To be honored. To be honorable. But the truth couldn’t be changed. He was a drug dealer turned mercenary. Where was the honor in that background?

  He was the epitome of the kind of man who usually frightened her. Who ought to frighten her now. And yet…something drew her to him. Was it the tragic loss of his sister? Had the experience changed him and that was what she saw? He’d come here to hunt down a terrorist—a worthy endeavor, to be sure—but what would happen once he found his retribution? Would he ever find it? Or would he return to his mercenary ways?

  “How do you know Habib will be here?” she asked.

  He glanced back at her and then resumed his surveillance. “I’ve followed him before.”

  “But how do you know he’ll be here today?”

  “I heard him arrange it.”

  “How? When?”

  “After Ammar threatened Habib at the market. After you and Travis were attacked.”

  While she lay unconscious? She stared at the back of his head. “Who is Habib meeting? Who is his diamond contact?”

  “Somebody from a small-scale mining company outside Koidu. Easier to smuggle from a smaller outfit than the bigger ones. Less money for security. And Habib probably has tighter connections with them.”

  “So, what were you planning? If you want revenge, why not just kill Ammar? Why snoop around his illicit diamond deals?”

  Rem didn’t answer and a few seconds later, he straightened from the wall. “He’s here.”

  She swore in French, something she only did when she was really frustrated. She wanted him to answer her.

  Rem glanced back at her, a frown of momentary curiosity changing the set of his eyes before returning his attention to the window. Well, it was good to know he spoke French, too. She only knew it because her mother was French.

  Haley put the cup down and unfolded her legs from the chair to stand. At the window beside Rem, she watched Habib climb out of a white Jeep splattered with red dirt. His short black hair messed in the hot breeze, showing a round bald spot on the top rear of his head. The wiry, under-six-foot man glanced around him before disappearing into the building across the street. She looked up at Rem.

  “What are we really doing here?” she asked. He hadn’t answered her when she asked why he was snooping around Ammar’s illicit diamond deals. Why?

  Barely making eye contact with her, he left the window and began to load the SUV, which he’d parked beside the shack of a dwelling, hidden behind some trees.

  Haley’s instinct warned her something wasn’t right. Rem was up to something, and it wasn’t just getting Ammar.

  After putting on her hiking boots, she got into the SUV and tried to calm her rushing adrenaline. Maybe she could go back to the Mamba Point Hotel. Walking back to Monrovia alone and unarmed would be nothing short of stupid. So for now, she was stuck with him.

  He drove to a dirt road just outside Robertsport and turned around so the SUV faced the main road to Monrovia. Less than thirty minutes later, Habib’s Jeep passed. The road was lightly traveled.

  Rem waited awhile before driving onto the road.

  “What are you going to do?” She knew it was futile asking.

  His eyes never flinched from the road, and he pressed the gas when the Jeep came into view. Veering into the opposite lane, he raced beside the Jeep. Haley saw Habib’s shocked and frightened look before Rem steered the big SUV right into the Jeep’s side. Habib lost control with the hard hit and swerved off the road. A loud bang penetrated the interior of the SUV when the Jeep hit a tree. Rem braked and spun the SUV around, racing back toward the Jeep. Her seat belt jerked her around in the seat. He skidded to a stop not two feet from the driver’s door. Habib was slouched in the driver’s seat.

  Rem yanked off his seat belt and leaned close to her. “Stay here. If you run, I’m coming after you.”

  She heard her own rapid breaths as she stared at him with disbelief swimming so hard in her it made her dizzy. He was crazy. She should have never trusted him. He swung the driver’s door open and ran to the Jeep. After searching Habib’s clothes, he pulled the man’s body back against the seat and leaned across him, then backed out with a small purse-sized leather pouch in hand.

  While he loosened the top to check its contents, Haley swung the passenger door open. She went around the front of the SUV. “Did you kill him?” Her heart hammered wild and hard in her chest.

  “Get back in the SUV.” He grabbed her arm and forced her away from the Jeep.

  “We can’t just leave him here!”

  “He’ll be all right.”

  “Is he alive? Did you check?”

  “He’s alive. That crash didn’t kill him, it only knocked him out.”

  “Did you check? Don’t you care?”

  Dark fury raged in his impossibly blue eyes. “How could I? Is that what you’re thinking?” He shoved her back against the back passenger door of the SUV. “I saw him breathing. Get in, or I’ll throw you in the back.”

  She slithered onto the passenger seat, feeling a tremble racking her legs and arms. Rem put the leather pouch in his duffel bag and climbed into the driver’s seat. There were a lot of diamonds in there. Turning the SUV around, he accelerated. Ninety miles an hour down a two-lane, poorly maintained road, maneuvering curves, passing one car. He watched his rearview mirror. A few minutes later, he slowed. At a dirt road, he turned. She was jostled for more than an hour over the badly pocked road, until he finally slowed and searched the trees. Then he veered right into the dense vegetation, parking when it would let him go no farther.

  She gaped at him, wondering what he was doing.

  “Don’t take anything with you,” he said. “I packed enough for both of us.”

  Oh, God. Where was he taking her now? The operatives Cullen was sending wouldn’t find her.

  She jumped out of the SUV and onto soggy ground. All around her thick canopy shaded the sunny sky. Birds sang and called.

  Rem grabbed the duffel bag where he’d stowed the diamonds as well as a second duffel bag, which he threw at her. She caught it, and he took her hand. Pulling her after him, he ran through the vegetation the SUV had flattened on the way in. They reached the dirt road. Putting the bag down, he unzipped it and pulled out a remote control. A detonator, she realized, and she could
only gape at him when she heard the explosion through the thick vegetation. He’d blown up the SUV. Now they were on foot in the middle of a Liberian jungle.

  Zipping the bag, he stood with it in his hand and pulled her after him again, running down the road.

  No wonder he was so moody after Ammar had threatened him. He’d known all along that he’d have to take her with him. He wanted her on a plane and out of his life because he was playing a dangerous game with terrorists. There were too many diamonds in that leather bag for Ammar to let go. There had to be thousands and thousands of carats’ worth.

  What was he going to do with them? She had to stay with him to find out. Not that she had any choice.

  Fifteen minutes later, she stumbled and tripped after him as he once again led her into the tangle of trees and vegetation that bordered the road. Then he let her go as he began pulling leafy branches off what she soon saw was a Jeep. A battered, rusting, once-dark-green Jeep. She climbed into the passenger seat. There was no seat belt, so she grabbed hold of the roll bar as he maneuvered the vehicle out of the jungle and back onto the road. He drove like a wild man, veering to the right when the road Y’d, veering again, this time left, when it Y’d again.

  She dared a glance at him. His face was a hard mask of determination and grit. A pothole sent her entire body off the seat. She looked forward. And was shocked to see a village come into view.

  Rem drove all the way through and stopped the Jeep at a clearing. Just ahead sat an armed black helicopter with no markings.

  “Where are we going?” she demanded.

  Grabbing the duffel with the diamonds, he slid his long legs out of the Jeep without acknowledging her. Bringing the second duffel bag with her, she followed him.

  “How many diamonds are in that bag?”

  “Don’t talk about that now,” he retorted in a low, angry tone.

  She spotted a young man who smiled hugely, showing white teeth against dark skin as he approached.

  “Remy,” the man greeted. “I glad to see you.” He leaned in for a masculine hug and a couple of hard pats on Rem’s back.

  “Thanks for coming through for me,” Rem said, when the man withdrew. He pulled out a wad of cash from his wallet. He counted several hundred. The man laughed and nodded his excitement. “It is easy to help you, Remy. You save my family this year. Most of my people, too.” He indicated toward Haley with his head. “You no mention bringing a lady.”

 

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