by Dee Davis
Trees sped by faster and faster until she could see the rocky edge of the precipice in front of her. With a sharp exhale, she centered the steering wheel, yanked open the door, and dove for the ground. Rocks bit into her skin as she rolled away from the truck, but the satisfying squeal as the wheels went over the edge of the ravine blunted the pain.
There was a moment of silence, and then the jungle was filled with the sound of crunching metal and machinery.
“You all right?” Rafe asked, reaching down to pull her to her feet.
“A little banged up, but no worse for wear.” She smiled again, adrenaline pumping. “Where to next?”
“There’s a stream just a little way off the road. I saw it when we were driving. If we stay in the water, it’ll be harder to track us.”
“Okay, I’m right behind you.”
“Actually,” he said. “I want you to head out on your own.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “I need to make it look as if we crawled out of the wreckage and headed out the opposite direction. Then I’ll cover our tracks up here. I’ll catch up to you after that. All right?”
“Fine.” She sighed, wishing she’d thought of the idea herself. It wasn’t as if she was helpless. “Bangui is downstream, right?”
“Yes,” he said, “but we’re not going that way.”
“Why not?” She frowned. “Seems the logical thing to do.”
“Which is exactly why we’re going to do the opposite. We’ll go upstream, back toward the settlement. They’ll never expect it. And if we’re lucky, we’ll be well out of the country before they figure it out.”
“But the radios at the clinic are fried,” she said, not sure what exactly it was about the plan that bothered her.
“Gustav has one. And hopefully Aunt Tandy will have used it by now to call your friends. That’s where they’ll expect you to be.” His eyes narrowed, his gaze moving to the road, searching for signs of their pursuers. “We need to move. You with me?”
“Yeah.” She lifted her hands in surrender. “I’m going. Upstream.”
“Good.” His lips twisted in a crooked smile. “I’ll be right behind you. Now go.”
She held her ground for a moment, her eyes meeting his, heated current passing between them, emotion holding sway. Without conscious thought, she lifted a hand, wanting to touch him, but common sense surfaced, and she dropped it, shaking her head to break the spell. This was crazy.
“I’m going,” she whispered. And then without another word, she turned and ran, telling herself that she was only doing what he’d ordered.
She pushed her way through the trees until she reached the stream. The water was cold. It always surprised her. In a country known for savanna and arid desert, it was counterintuitive to expect the streams in the rain forest to be cool, but the water came from the mountains.
The streambed was rocky, which made progress more difficult than she’d have expected, and the low overhanging trees only made it harder. She ducked under a large thorny branch, the long spine catching her hair. With a curse, she pulled the strands free, grateful for once that she hadn’t let her hair grow longer. Jason had liked it short. And after he’d died, she just let it grow, in defiance or maybe just a desperate effort to prove to herself that she’d moved on.
But she’d drawn the line at letting it get really long. It was inconvenient, especially here in Africa. So she’d kept it bobbed at her shoulders. Neither long nor short—stuck in between. The irony didn’t escape her, and she frowned, angry at herself for her own timidity. It had been a year, and she was still just going through the motions. It was time to let go of the past and get on with her life.
With Rafe, the little voice in her head whispered.
She shook her head, squelching the thought. Clearly she’d lost it. She was stuck in the middle of the jungle with violent insurgents on her trail, and she was worrying about the state of her love life? With a sigh, Lara fought her way out from under the offending branch, her shoe catching the edge of a rock in the process. Arms pinwheeling, she struggled to retain her balance, but it was a lost cause. She landed on her ass in the middle of the stream, the cold water soaking her pants and the bottom of her shirt.
“Son of a bitch,” she swore, pushing back to her feet.
The only way she was going to get out of this alive was to get her mind off of a certain mercenary and keep moving. So even though her mind was screaming for her to wait for Rafe, she pushed forward. He was stronger and faster, he’d close the distance between them in no time, and until then, she’d just have to hold her own.
Chapter 5
“What’s that?” Lara asked as they peered through the trees at a building backlit with the rising sun.
“Looks like a farmer’s hut,” Rafe said, shading his eyes with one hand.
They’d been walking for what seemed like hours now, although Lara’s watch had been smashed in her initial run through the jungle. The appearance of the sun meant that it had to be going on five or so. Her feet hurt, and the torn skin around her wrists was angry and raw, not to mention the scrapes on her arms.
But she was alive—and that had to count for something. And so far at least, they’d seen no sign of the rebels, not that it meant they were safe, merely that they’d succeeded in buying themselves a little more time.
“Those cuts need attention,” Rafe said, nodding toward a gash on her upper arm. “I think we can afford a small break. At least the house will provide shelter.”
“And if the inhabitants aren’t welcoming?” she asked, surprised at the rush of relief she felt at the prospect of the chance to rest, no matter how brief.
“Looks to me like it’s abandoned.” Rafe offered her his scope, and she lifted it to her eye, adjusting it to clear the view.
She could see now that the windows were bare. The weeds had grown high around the front door, and there were no signs of habitation. “We should be safe enough for the time it takes me to clean your wounds.”
“I’ll be fine,” she lied, knowing full well that the red streaks on her left wrist indicated the beginnings of infection. “Better that we just keep moving.”
“While I appreciate your bravery, I don’t want to see those cuts go septic. You know as well as I do that in this environment, infection takes hold a hell of a lot faster than in a more hospitable climate.”
She was impressed that he’d noticed but hated the idea of losing precious time. “I’ll be okay.”
“Not worth the risk, sweetheart,” he said. “And I like the idea of having walls around us while we work. Protection is everything out here.”
“But there’s not that much we can do. I haven’t got any supplies, and the farmers who lived there”—she nodded toward the house—“sure as hell aren’t going to have anything.”
“Yeah, but I do.” He patted the small pack he carried on his back. “Always prepared, isn’t that what your Boy Scouts say?”
Despite the seriousness of their situation, she grinned. “I should have known you’d have a medical kit.”
“The jungle’s a mighty dangerous place.” He shrugged, answering her smile. “And to be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to find.”
The thought sobered them both as they made their way across the small clearing to the abandoned house. The inside looked even more dilapidated than the outside—the frame of a bed, a small stool, and a three-legged table all that remained of the furniture.
“Clearly they didn’t leave much behind,” Rafe observed, as he checked an empty cabinet on the far side of the room.
Lara dropped onto the stool gratefully, only now realizing just how exhausted she was. “I’ll take that medical kit.”
Rafe rummaged in the pack and produced a small black bag. “Here you go.” He tossed it across the room, and she managed to catch it, surprised that she still had the energy to react so quickly. “There should be some antiseptic inside and also a packet with antibiotics.”
She opened t
he bag, removing the antiseptic, some bandages, and the pills. “Tetracycline. Good choice. Treats just about anything.”
Rafe nodded as he checked the windows and doors for any sign of activity outside, then apparently satisfied, he crossed the room to kneel beside her. “What can I do?”
“Wash everything with this,” she said, offering the gauze pad saturated with alcohol. He took it and began to gently clean her wounds. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on anything besides the biting pain as he carefully cleaned each cut.
“This one on your arm is pretty deep,” he said. “But I’m afraid my pack doesn’t run to sutures.”
“It’s okay,” she said, not opening her eyes. “Worst case, I’ll have a scar and a hell of a story to go along with it.”
“You’re one hell of a woman, Lara. You know that, right?”
“Why?” she scoffed. “Because I’m not whining about the pain? I’m a doctor, remember. Last month I had to operate on a man without anesthesia. We’d run out. His appendix had burst, so there wasn’t a choice. Compared to his pain, this is nothing.”
“Well, I’m still impressed.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as he moved from her arms to her wrists, the abrasions there particularly sensitive.
“Sorry,” he said, his fingers still probing gently. “But we’ve got to get it clean. This one’s already showing signs of infection.”
“I know.” She sighed, opening her eyes. “I managed to dunk it in the stream, which we both know isn’t the best of ideas. But there wasn’t much I could do about it at the time. It was purely reaction. I managed to keep the other one dry, though.” For all its pristine beauty, the rain forest could be deadly, microorganisms there thriving in the moist environment. “Hopefully the antibiotics will nail it. At the moment, there isn’t much else we can do.”
He nodded, still cleaning the abrasions and cuts on her wrists. “So what made you want to be a doctor?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t really the save-the-world type when I was young. It was more about the science. And after college, med school seemed the logical choice. But my passion was still more about the science behind the clinical applications. So after graduating, it seemed like an obvious step to go into research.”
He looked up from his work with a frown. “But you didn’t do research for the CIA.”
“Not directly, no. But I did have the opportunity to keep up with cutting-edge technology. Particularly the development of biochemical weapons. I’ve worked with and sometimes against some of the best minds in the world.”
“So why the clinic? Surely once you’d stepped down from your work with the CIA, there had to have been a long line of companies who’d have liked to have you as a part of their research divisions.”
“There were.” She shrugged, wincing as he probed a little too deeply. “Still are, I’d imagine. But after Jason died”—she paused, still amazed at how easy it was to talk to Rafe—“I guess I just had a change of heart.”
“There had to be more to it than that.” His gaze met hers, his dark eyes as probing as his fingers. “I mean, I know how much he meant to you, but I don’t see the connection.”
Lara laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room. “It wasn’t just Jason. It was me.” She sucked in a breath, trying to decide how much to share, and then the absurdity of it all hit her. There was every possibility she’d be dead before nightfall, and if not, she’d surely be shipped off far away from Africa and Rafe Winters. “I can’t have children,” she said, her voice barely higher than a whisper. “Jason wanted them so badly, and so did I. But with our line of work, we just kept putting it off. And then when we finally did try—I had an ectopic pregnancy. There were complications.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Rafe’s sympathy wrapped around her like a warm blanket—giving her courage.
“We were devastated. We even looked into adoption, but who in their right mind is going to let two spooks adopt, right?”
“There are more discreet channels,” Rafe said, wrapping her wrist with a cotton bandage.
“We checked them out. Believe me. But before we could take any action, Jason died, and I was left on my own. Adoption was no longer an option. I mean, single parents today do marvelous things, but without Jason, I just didn’t feel up to the task. But I’d seen how many children needed help, how many places there were in the world where they were living hand to mouth or worse. And I knew I wanted to do something to help. So if not adoption then—”
“Working to save them,” he finished for her. “At the clinic.”
“Kim was a friend from med school, and when he contacted me about helping him, it was a godsend. I needed something to do to take my mind off my loss, and I wanted so badly to make a difference.”
“And you have,” Rafe said, his eyes soft with sympathy.
“I suppose. But there are still the ones I’ve lost.”
“Like the little girl from the other day.”
“Exactly. It’s not an easy road to follow, this Good Samaritan bit. It’s hard. Sometimes I think worse than anything I ever had to do for the CIA.”
“And that’s saying a hell of lot,” Rafe agreed, taping off the bandage on her arm. “So, considering our current situation, this is probably a stupid question. But given everything that’s happened, do you regret coming?”
She paused for a moment, considering the question, and then smiled. “Not for one minute. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done. It’s allowed me to heal in ways I didn’t even know I needed. Even now, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Nothing?” he queried, his voice low, his gaze intense.
“If you mean the other night—with you—then no.” She shook her head. “I have no regrets.” She waited, heart hammering to see if he’d respond in kind. But instead, he simply leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, the kiss meaning more than any words he could have said.
He stayed for a moment, his breath mingling with hers, and then he sat back, his dark eyes giving away nothing. “We need to get going. The sooner we get you out of here the better.”
He handed her a bottle of water and the tablets, which she swallowed in one gulp, her mind still trying to make sense of the emotions swamping through her like a high tide surging around a pier. Maybe leaving was the best thing. Maybe she had no business wanting anything more with Rafe. But sitting here right now with him inches away, all she could think about was the feel of his hands on her skin and his lips against hers. God, even now, in the middle of all this hell, she wanted him.
“I’m good,” she said, pushing up off the stool. “You should have considered a medical career. You’ve got good hands.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she wanted them back, but his smile was warm, and thankfully he ignored the remark.
“Never would have worked. School wasn’t my thing. But I have had a lot of field experience. Anyway, I’m glad I could help.”
“So we’re off?” She hated to leave the relative comfort of the old house, even though she knew they were better off in the jungle on the move. “How much farther is it do you think?”
“Shouldn’t be too much longer. If we didn’t have to keep covering our tracks, we’d probably have made better time, but I figure it’s important to be careful.”
“Agreed.” She put the supplies back into the medical kit and handed it to him. Then after taking another drink of the water, she passed him the bottle as well. He drained it and then moved back to the doorway, scope in hand. “Are we clear?” she asked as she moved to stand beside him.
“Looks that way.” He nodded, a frown cutting across his face.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, just a funny feeling. Like something’s not quite right.”
She peered out across the clearing to the line of trees surrounding them on all sides. The wind moved lazily through the tall grass, the sky above a bright, endless blue. Nothing else moved, and except for the soft hum of an insect, the
re was no other noise. “Seems quiet to me.”
“Too quiet. But we’ve still got to move. If something is up, we’re sitting ducks here. And we’re almost out of ammo.”
She nodded and waited while he moved out onto the stoop and then down into the grass. The clearing, if possible, grew even more quiet as even the bugs quit buzzing, but Rafe motioned her forward, and she stepped outside. The breeze ruffled through her hair, and her newly bandaged wrists throbbed, but nothing moved—no bullets, no sign of the rebels at all.
“Best we get into the jungle as quickly as possible,” Rafe said, holding a small GPS unit. “We’ll move that way.” He nodded toward the line of trees to the west. “That should put us in position to make a beeline for the settlement.”
“All right.” Lara nodded, already moving off in that direction. “Since I have absolutely no idea where we are, I’ll just have to put my faith in you.” Something dark shadowed his face but was gone so quickly she almost felt as if she’d imagined it. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just worried, I guess. If nothing else, I figure we’ve lost a bit of our lead.”
“All the more reason to get moving.” She squared her shoulders and started across the field again. At least it was faster than clambering through the jungle. There was nothing to impede progress except an almost dry tank that had once held water for livestock. “What happened to the people who lived here, do you think?”
“Probably run off by the rebels. Or maybe worse. They’re big on conscripting whomever they happen to come across. Any able body will do.”
“Except for women.” Lara thought about all the atrocities that occurred because women were considered little more than property.
“Yeah, there is that.” Rafe frowned, his face tightening as he clearly had his own thoughts about the current situation in this part of the Congo. “Anyway, there’s nothing we can do for them now. No matter what happened, they’re long gone.”