by Dee Davis
Lara shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She needed to quit concentrating on the past and figure a way out of this mess. Because her feet were barely touching the ground, the strain on her arms was enormous, the pain radiating from her wrists to her elbows and then down into her shoulders. But in a perverse kind of way, it helped her to concentrate, gave her a focal point to keep her mind from drifting.
It was hard to make things out in the dank gloom, but she could see the edge of what looked to be a shelf on the far back wall, and there was a large basket by the stairs, which were just off to her right. To the left, there was nothing but moisture-slick stone.
A definite rock and a hard place.
She tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling, hope dissipating. But then she noticed a rusted pipe running alongside the beam she was tied to. In places, it was completely rusted through, the jagged metal looking at once lethal and lovely. If she could manage to swing hard enough to hook the rope binding her hands over the pipe, maybe she could use the edges of the broken pipe to cut herself free. It was a Hail Mary attempt to be sure, but it beat the hell out of doing nothing at all.
Using all the strength she could muster, Lara pulled her hands apart as hard as she could in an attempt to loosen her bindings at least a little. She could feel blood seeping down one arm as the rope bit through her bandages and reopened her wounds, but she was determined to prevail. It took several tries, but she was rewarded finally by a small space showing between her wrists. Hopefully it would be enough.
Now all she had to do was maneuver her hands over the pipe. Using her feet to push off, she swung herself by her arms, the pain wrenching, but her determination unwavering. Using her legs to propel her farther out, she watched as the rope moved tantalizingly close to the pipe, but always just millimeters from actual contact.
She stopped for a moment to relieve the pressure on her arms, but then after sucking in a deep breath, she tried again, swinging back and forth like some kind of crazy human pendulum. By the eighth try, she was exhausted, the blood now running down both arms, but she gritted her teeth and tried again. Pushing off with her toes, imagining herself a trapeze artist, she swung up, up… stretching… reaching… finally managing to loop the rope, along with her hands, over the pipe.
Half the battle won.
She blew out a breath, fighting exhaustion and pain. She still needed to maneuver herself so that she could use the broken pipe to cut through the rope. Bracing herself as best she could, Lara inched herself forward, aligning herself with the broken piece of pipe. Then she began to slide her hands back and forth frantically over the jagged metal, praying that her plan would work.
At first she thought that the rope was too strong, but gradually it began to give, and she worked harder, moving faster despite her screaming muscles, knowing that every second had to count. Sweat and blood stained her shirt, but she kept her focus on the motion—back and forth, back and forth. Just a little bit more.
Above her, the pipe groaned, and one of the bolts holding it to the ceiling pulled free. The new angle made it even more difficult to align herself to cut, and she could tell that the other bolts were also loose. It was now or never. Pushing up higher on her toes, she repositioned herself, and then using all her remaining strength, pushed down against the pipe’s edge, moving her hands back and forth in a sawing motion.
The pipe groaned again, and then suddenly the rope snapped as the pipe ripped away from the ceiling, sending her careening into the earthen floor, her head spinning from the impact. But any additional pain was effectively blocked by a flood of elation. Her plan had worked. She was free.
Lara waited a moment to be sure that the commotion caused by her fall hadn’t alarmed her captors, but after a minute passed and then two, she pushed to her feet, wincing as her muscles protested. The small room was windowless, and except for the stairs, there seemed to be no other way out. She checked the shelf and basket for something that might resemble a weapon, ultimately settling for the piece of pipe that had broken free from the ceiling.
It wouldn’t stand up against a machine gun, but if she got the drop on whoever was on guard, maybe she’d be able to strike first. Either way, it was her only shot. Thank goodness she’d been coaxed into playing softball with Jason and company. She’d been the smallest one on the team, but Jason had made certain that she could bat, which is exactly what she’d be doing when forced to swing the pipe.
She gripped it, readying herself for the coming battle, then ducked beneath the staircase when the door above her squeaked open. Seemed the showdown was coming sooner rather than later. She adjusted her hold on the pipe, tensing as she heard footsteps descending the stairs.
Fortunately, the direct line of sight to where she’d been held captive was blocked from the stairway, which meant that the guy on the stairs had no idea she was free. Surprise would give her the advantage, at least for a moment or two, which made it all that much more important that she strike quickly and effectively.
She drew in a slow breath, bracing herself. She’d have only one shot, so she had to make it count. The footsteps grew closer. Almost to the bottom of the stairs. Her captor’s foot hit the bottom tread, and on a quick count of three, she swung the pipe with all of her might, catching the man in the solar plexus. She heard a woof as he bent forward, but despite the blow, he managed to twist away and then grab her wrists, yanking her back so that she was held hostage in his arms, her back lodged firmly against his chest.
She fought like a tiger, anger combining with adrenaline. But then the sound of his voice reached her ear, the sound teasing her with an intimacy that had never truly existed.
“Stop struggling,” Rafe whispered, his arms tightening around her. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Like I’m going to believe that,” she hissed. “You may have fooled me once, but I’m sure as hell not going to fall for your shtick again.” She struggled, but he was much stronger and had the additional advantage of height. Her only chance was to catch him off guard. She tensed as if to renew her struggle, but then immediately allowed her entire body to go slack.
Startled, he released his hold, and she twisted to bring a knee up into his groin, missing the crown jewels by only a couple of inches or so. He swore—some of the words clearly not even in English—but regained his hold on her, his voice dark now with anger.
“If the situation weren’t so dire, I swear to God you’d pay for that. But if we’re going to get out of here, we need to move quickly.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said, still fighting to free herself.
“Lara, listen to me.” His voice held a note of authority, and despite herself, she stilled, waiting. “If you’ll let me, I can help.”
“But you’re working with the insurgents.” The protest came of its own accord as her mind tried to make sense of his words. “You admitted it to me.”
“In front of Mumbaro and his friends, yes. I had no choice.” He turned her around so that she faced him, his hands still gripping her upper arms. “I’ve been working undercover, infiltrating Mumbaro’s movement for the last two years.”
She stared up at him, trying to gauge the truth in what he was telling her. She wanted so badly for it to be true, but at the same time, the pieces didn’t all seem to fit together. “Undercover for who?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she continued to watch him.
“An international group led by NATO with some Interpol involvement. I was already working in the area, and with my skill set, it was a good fit. The powers that be wanted me to work my way into the organization.”
“To do what? Bring them down?”
“No. The aim was to stop activity higher up the chain. As you know, illegal arms activity in this region is at an all-time high. And to date, most of the efforts to stop it have been aimed at disbanding local rebel groups. But as soon as one group is destroyed, another springs up, and the violence continues. So this time we wanted to try and go for the source.”
“The people supplying the munitions.” She frowned, thinking of the Consortium and their involvement with Jason’s death.
“Exactly.”
“And have you had any luck?”
“Not yet. It took awhile just to get Mumbaro to accept that I was legitimate. I’ve managed to make myself indispensible, but so far he hasn’t allowed me access to his suppliers.”
“What about your work at the clinic?” she asked.
“It was a legitimate way for me to validate my presence in the area. And from there, it was simple enough to put out feelers. Then once I’d met Mumbaro, it was fairly easy to convince him, with my background, that I could be an asset to his movement.”
“So just like that you were a revolutionary.”
“More or less. And it was just easier to keep my job at the clinic. Kept me from coming under the suspicion of local law enforcement.”
“I’ve always figured most of them were secret members of the opposition.”
“Unfortunately you’re not completely wrong.” He shrugged. “Part of the problem here is that everyone has their hands in everyone else’s pockets.”
She nodded slowly, absorbing his words, and then another uglier thought filled her mind. “Did you tell Mumbaro about me? Specifically about my past with the CIA?”
“No. I didn’t tell anyone. I swear it.”
“And you didn’t know what was going to happen? At the clinic, I mean?” Her mind spun with possibilities. “Is that why you went for supplies? So that we’d be more vulnerable?”
“Of course not,” he said, his gaze locking with hers. “I had no idea they were planning anything. You have to believe I would never willingly have let anything happen to the clinic. Especially when you were involved.”
“Me?” The word came out as a squeak as she tried to make sense of all that he was telling her. The information was simply coming too fast.
“Yes, Lara, you. The only person who hasn’t noticed how I feel about you is you. Everyone else was aware of it: Kim, Aunt Tandy, even Gustav. And anyone who didn’t already know was certainly more than aware after the night we spent together.”
“Nothing is secret in the settlement,” she whispered, her mind reeling.
“Believe me, I tried to stay away from you. I knew that having a relationship with you was a distraction I couldn’t afford.”
“So what changed?”
“You needed me. And I couldn’t deny my feelings any longer.”
“So you took advantage,” she said, jerking one arm free. “You used me. It was all just pretend.”
“No. It wasn’t,” he insisted, his hand closing on her arm again. “If anything, you’re the most real thing that’s happened to me in years. And I would never do anything to purposely put you in danger. You have to believe that.”
“Then what the hell happened out there in the jungle?”
“We were surrounded. It was the only way I could be sure you were safe.”
“But you told them that you’d bring me in?”
“Yes. It was a diversion. I thought I’d have time to get you out of the country before they realized what was up. I just hadn’t counted on them following us. I assumed they’d trust me to bring you in, and when you stepped on the bomb, it made us sitting ducks.”
“So it was real? The land mine, I mean?”
“Very real. Probably set by Mumbaro. Although I doubt he intended it for us.” He reached down to lift one of her hands, his eyes on her wrist, the bandage torn and stained red with blood. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks. Although I’ll probably need a tetanus shot.” She nodded at the rusted pipe on the floor beside her.
“I’m impressed that you got yourself free. Truth be told you’re one impressive woman, Lara Prescott.”
The statement, at the very least, should have annoyed her, but instead she felt a little shot of elation. She shook her head, fighting to hold onto her sanity, the world threatening to disintegrate around her.
Rafe might not be the enemy, but he was certainly even more of an adrenaline junkie than she’d originally thought—not the kind of man to become involved with, no matter how sexy he was, or how much he professed to care about her.
Still, despite everything that had happened, she believed him, believed that he hadn’t meant for her to be caught again, and most importantly that he was here to help her. The rest of it could wait until she could think more clearly. Until there were no rebels threatening to sell her to the highest bidder.
Chapter 7
“I need you to wait here while I take out the guard at the door,” Rafe said, as he and Lara stopped at the top of the cellar stairs. “Aside from where you were, the building only has one room. So once the guard’s out of play, we should have the place to ourselves, which should buy us a moment to figure out a plan of attack.”
“And you swear you’ll come back? That this isn’t some kind of a trick?” she asked, her expression mirroring her doubt.
He knew that the question involved more than just helping her escape. She was trying to decide if she could trust him again. And he wanted more than anything to reassure her, but there wasn’t time.
So he framed her face with his hands, bending for a quick kiss, then lifted his gaze to hold hers. “I swear it on my life, Lara.”
She nodded once, clearly still not certain that he was on the level, but at least it was a start. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and stepped outside the cellar door, fingering the knife he’d concealed in his pocket. He also carried a holstered gun, but using a knife meant silence, which at the moment was their only friend.
The man on guard smiled and lifted a hand as Rafe strode across the floor, returning the greeting before he closed the distance and with a short upward thrust buried the knife in the man’s throat. He slipped wordlessly to the floor, and after making certain the building was secure, Rafe motioned Lara into the room.
She kept her eyes on him, ignoring the body on the floor, moving silently across the room until she stood beside him near the room’s only window.
“Their camp is set up in roughly an L shape,” Rafe said, motioning to the tents outside the building. “There is another, slightly larger building to the northwest at the top of the L. You can just see it from here. That’s where Mumbaro stays when he’s in camp.”
“Is he still here?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Along with a strong cadre of his men. If the alarm goes up before we reach the safety of the jungle, we’re toast. But if we move quickly and keep to the east, we’re less likely to run into trouble. There are a couple of tents in that area, but since it’s still early evening, there shouldn’t be anyone in them.”
“Maybe I should go on my own,” she said, and he marveled at her willingness to take a risk for him. “You could tell Mumbaro that I killed the guard, and that you arrived after the fact, or even that I knocked you out. It’ll preserve your cover.”
“Lara, I don’t give a flying fuck about my cover. All that went out the window the minute Mumbaro took you hostage. I can understand your wanting to be on your own. I know you don’t trust me. But you’re going to need me if you’re going to get out of this alive. I know the layout of the camp, and I’m considered a friendly, at least as long as our friend here goes undiscovered.”
“I never said I wanted to be on my own,” she started, eyes narrowed, her expression mutinous. “It’s just that—”
He shook his head to cut her off. “I’m not letting you go without me. And besides, I know the jungle around here like the back of my hand. If we do manage to make it out of camp, then you’ll need me to guide you to safety.”
“Fine,” she said with an acquiescing shrug. “You make valid points. We’ll go together. I just hate the idea of pulling you further into my problems.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listening. I was in this the minute Mumbaro hit the clinic and took you. You’re my only priority.”
&nb
sp; “But I don’t understand why,” she said, confusion coloring her expression. “Because we slept together?”
“It’s more than that, and you know it. Or if you don’t, you should. Look, call it chemistry. Or pheromones. Or whatever the hell name you want to put on it…” He trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug, wishing he had the right words. “The bottom line is that I care what happens to you. All right?”
For a moment, she seemed about to question him, and he wondered if he’d fucked it all up. Pushed too far, too fast. But then she sighed, the sound so soft he almost missed it. “Well, we’re even, then,” she whispered. “Despite my better instinct, I care about you, too.”
It wasn’t a declaration of undying love, but it was a start. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looked like hell, her wrists bloodied, her clothes torn, bits of God knew what tangled in her hair, but she wasn’t giving in to any of it. She was a fighter, and it was one of the things he loved most about her.
“Look,” she said, squaring her shoulders, her no-nonsense tone destroying any sense of intimacy. “We haven’t got time to discuss any of this right now. We need to get out of here.”
“Roger that,” he agreed, feeling ridiculously grateful for the reprieve. Talking about his feelings wasn’t exactly his forte. “Night falls fast in the jungle, so we should take advantage of the fading light.” He reached to the holster at the small of his back for the Walther he had concealed there. “You take the gun.”
She nodded, taking the weapon, and he bent to retrieve the guard’s machine gun from the floor.
“All right, we move on my count. Keep low, and head straight for the jungle to the east. We’ll use the tents in between for cover. I’ll be right behind you.”
“I know the drill.” She waited while he checked the window to make sure the coast was still clear. Then he pulled open the door, and she moved through it, Walther at the ready, keeping her back to the wall of the building until she reached the corner.
He followed behind, hesitating at the edge of the small porch when he heard the guard’s radio sputter to life. Son of a bitch. He should have anticipated the threat. The radio buzzed again, the sound seemingly overloud in the twilight haze. He signaled Lara to hold and then worked his way back inside the building to grab the guard’s radio.