by Amy Andrews
With the advantage of better light and the knowledge that their hunters were far away, Holly found their trip down the track less nerve-racking. The urgency hadn’t dissipated but the heart-in-your-mouth-stuff had lessened.
Being shot at had been very frightening. Disturbingly it hadn’t seemed to overly affect Tundol and she doubted whether Richard had even noticed. It sure as hell had scared her.
They stopped after a few solid hours of walking down the muddy track. Richard found them a secluded spot where they were relatively obscured and they tucked into beautifully smoked ham, unleavened bread and fresh sweet-tasting berries. It was like a banquet compared to the last few days and they ate until every morsel had gone.
Richard decided to not rush over their meal. They had done well to get this far and he knew he had been driving a young child and Holly, who at times didn’t look much older than the boy, very hard. He knew how much his body hurt and he was trained and fit.
Holly had to be suffering ten times more than him. The nasty abrasions on her back would be pulling taut as part of the healing process and the salt from the sweat that must be running down her back would be stinging like mad.
Holly enjoyed the leisurely, sumptuous lunch and savoured every moment. The events of last night, their death-defying slide down the mountainside and the bullets whizzing around her head were never far from her thoughts.
She tried to focus instead on how near they were, how in a few hours they’d be off this godforsaken mountain and she could have a bath and sleep in a proper bed. They were wonderful thoughts but still her mind flashed images of last night on her inward eye.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Richard asked, fascinated by the range of emotions that flitted across her face as she ate.
Holly jumped. She’d been so engrossed in her own thoughts she’d almost forgotten he was there. She smiled at him, pushing the unsettling images from her mind.
‘About a bath. A long, hot, sudsy spa bath with divine smelling salts and aromatherapy oils,’ she sighed as the vision floated before her.
He laughed and she joined him. It felt good to be able to talk and laugh and not have to worry that the sound of their voices would betray their position. They were so close to freedom it was such a heady liberating feeling.
Looking at the much more relaxed Richard, she made up her mind that it was now or never. She had decided last night as she had been swept down the mountain that she was going to confess her love whether he liked it or not. But then, with the leeches and plain exhaustion, she’d let it slide.
That morning, as bullets had rained around her, she had nearly met her maker again without having told him her feelings. She didn’t want to wait another second. Waste another minute.
She took a deep breath. ‘Richard.’
‘Yes, Holly,’ he said, his head bowed as he helped Tundol with something.
‘I want to talk to you. I don’t want you to say anything, just listen. OK?’
Richard stopped what he was doing and regarded her seriously. ‘Holly—’
‘I know you don’t want to hear it, Richard—’
‘Holly. Not now. OK?’
‘Yes, Richard. Now. I’ve been nearly killed twice in the last twelve hours. I don’t want to go another step without getting this off my chest.’
‘We’re not out of the woods yet,’ he said, and then smiled at his own joke.
She ignored him. ‘I love you, Richard. I’ve never stopped loving you. Yes, I know you think I’m too young and naïve and that you don’t need me, or anyone for that matter, and that you’re happy with your cosy military family of thousands and that I need more life experience and that I should sleep with more men—but you know what? I’m not Tanya. I would never sleep around. And when we were together before, I never understood your commitment to your job. But I do now. I know that the army isn’t just what you do but who you are, and I would never ask you to give away something that is obviously dear to you. And it’s OK. You’re screwed up—I get it. But I can handle it, we can handle it together, Richard. You need someone who’s going to love you despite the nightmares in your head and the sadness in your soul, and I’m that woman, Richard.’
Holly didn’t stop to draw breath. She ploughed on, wanting, needing to say everything that was in her heart. ‘I look at the torment within you and it makes me love you more, because you did something brave to save someone’s life when you didn’t have to, in fact, when you were forbidden to, and you’ve suffered emotionally and professionally because of it. But I know when I look at you that you would do it again in the blink of an eye because despite everything, despite your screwed-up childhood and the betrayal of one seriously stupid woman and all the horrible things you’ve seen as a soldier, you are a decent, kind, humane man. And I love you for it. Please Richard, let me love you.’
Richard stared at her while she unburdened her soul. Her eyes expressed her utter desperation.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘That came out all jumbled and not very articulate. What I’m trying to say is that I understand it won’t be easy but that’s not a reason to not try.’
Richard stared a bit longer. No one had ever said those things to him. It was the most articulate, emotional speech he’d ever heard. She’d said it with such passion and such conviction he was convinced that she honestly believed what she’d been saying. But the young always thought they were bulletproof and in his experience very few could be persuaded differently. He didn’t want to be there when she realised it. Realised that a man with a screwed-up past made terrible partner material.
‘Holly…can we talk about this when we’re back in Abeil?’
‘No. I love you, Richard. Aren’t you going to say anything?’
Richard checked his watch. This conversation had to end. They needed to go. ‘I told you already, I don’t need anyone in my life.’
‘Yes, I know, the army is your family. Can’t I be part of that? Let me be your family, too.’
Richard heard the note of desperation in her voice and let the fantasy of coming home to Holly each night take hold for a second. It was appealing on levels he didn’t want to acknowledge, not least because right now they were as far away from the fantasy as they could be.
He turned away from her and pulled on his pack. ‘Come on, Tundol,’ said Richard to the boy, who was watching their conversation with interest. ‘Time to go.’
Holly watched the boy and the man walk away from her. She saw Tundol squirm his hand into Richard’s and she sighed when Richard opened up his hand to the skinny little orphan. He had walked away from her challenge but if he thought that would put her off, he was wrong.
He had just offered a little boy he barely knew a measure of comfort and reassurance and she wiped the tears that spilled from her eyes. Tears of frustration and love and pride. How could one man evoke so many emotions? She gave up trying to find an answer and followed the two males who had come to mean so much in her life.
They marched downwards for another couple of hours. Periodically they could see through the thick foliage of the trees to the flat lowland below and knew they were getting closer and closer to the bottom. Holly could almost taste freedom.
But, as Richard had said, they weren’t out of the woods, and just to prove him right, just as her quads were rejoicing in flattish ground, John materialised from the long grass that grew around the bottom of the mountain.
The first Holly knew of it was the yelp of pain that Tundol gave and his hand being ripped from hers. She turned, reacting that split second too late, and John held Tundol firmly in his grasp. Richard’s pistol was held at the little boy’s temple.
‘So…we meet again, Sergeant,’ said John with a hostile smile.
‘But how?’ Holly was confused. How had he known? Everything had happened so fast. She looked at Tundol, brave little Tundol, and outrage filled her as she saw the tears tracking down his face. With all that they’d been through in the last two days, she had never seen him
look more afraid.
‘I returned to the bottom camp in time to see Kia coming back from further down the track. I had a hunch…’
Holly felt sick. What did that mean for Kia?
The how didn’t matter to Richard. ‘Let him go, John. He’s just a boy. An orphan.’
Holly recognised both steel and contempt in Richard’s voice. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Not when they were so close to freedom.
‘You didn’t fulfil your promise, Sergeant. Fumradi is dead. But…you knew that already. And as the new rebel leader, I must hold you accountable.’
So, John had succeeded Fumradi. Interesting. ‘I told you we couldn’t cure him,’ said Richard. Whatever he did, he had to keep John talking. He knew he could take the older man, he just had to get him to release Tundol. ‘Besides, it’s what you wanted isn’t it?’
‘What’s that, Sergeant?’
Richard saw John’s eyes cloud with questions as his irritatingly sure smile slipped a little. Oh, yes, maybe if he made John angry enough, he could get Tundol released. He refused to think about the similarities between the present and the horrific incident he had witnessed in Africa.
Flashes of that day assaulted his inward eye and he knew he had to suppress them and keep focused on the here and now. He had no intention of anyone getting hurt. Not even John—although the urge to wipe the smug smile off his face was strong. But Richard knew he could do that with words.
‘Well, that was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Once Fumradi was out of the way, you could assume the leadership. It’s not fair, is it John, when these young upstarts assume positions of leadership that should belong to us? So, you left a little of the bullet behind…’ Richard watched John intently for any sign of weakness, any flinching from his current position. He was poised and ready to pounce at any opening.
‘You think I would put ambition before the life of our beloved leader? Really, that is not the way of a freedom fighter.’
Holly watched their dialogue getting more and more furious as it went on. John had to be joking. They were that close! That close to a hot, deep bath. If he thought she was going to let him end it for them now when they were so close, he had another think coming.
And to hold a child, an innocent child, hostage like that. Hadn’t he already treated Tundol appallingly enough? To put a gun to his head and use him to manipulate them was unspeakable. She could feel the blood pounding through her head and thrumming through her veins. Her lungs demanded more air and she clenched her fists at her sides.
Never in her life had she wanted to see someone die so badly. She didn’t even have time to be shocked by the thought. This despicable human being who had threatened their lives during this ordeal, had locked them up and manacled them, had just stepped over the line. More than that—he was threatening the man she loved and a defenceless child.
She looked at Richard, who was continuing to bargain with John and edge his way closer. Was this how he had felt on that awful day that still fuelled his nightmares? This white-hot impotent rage that was burning in her gut? This fury at how callous and disregarding people could be? As she watched helplessly, Tundol’s muted sobs reached out to her, and she wanted John dead more than she wanted anything else in the world.
‘Oh, come on, John. You could have had him evacuated to a hospital at any time, yet you didn’t. Instead, you abduct us and we walk for three days before we even get to him.’
‘Fumradi refused to leave his house. He ordered me to bring you there,’ said John, his voice tinged with agitation.
‘As you knew he would,’ Richard goaded.
‘Why, you…’ John raised his gun and made to strike Richard across the face.
Yes! That was the right button, Richard thought, and knew he had John now. He caught John’s arm easily as it arced downwards and blocked the lightning-quick punch that followed from the other fist. Tundol, free from John’s hold, ran back to Holly and Richard began to try to shake the gun loose.
Tundol catapulted himself into Holly and she hugged him close. She could feel his frantic heartbeat against her abdomen and his sobs being muffled in her shirt. Her rage bubbled over as she watched the two men struggle and with Tundol safe in her arms she felt her restraint snap. How dared John hurt Richard? If he was going to mess with the man she loved, he’d better be prepared to take her on, too.
Richard squeezed the older man’s wrist hard. He could hear bone crunching and John yelped and let the gun go. It fell to the ground. Now all he had to do was get it himself. He made a dive for it but John, who was no slouch in hand-to-hand combat, dragged Richard back by the feet.
Richard flipped himself over, preparing to launch himself up at John, but was surprised by the force of the man as he threw himself on top of Richard, straddling his chest and landing a punch on Richard’s jaw.
His head swum momentarily. John took advantage of his disorientation, punching Richard in the face again. Richard could taste blood in his mouth. John placed his hands around Richard’s throat, squeezing hard and pushing down on Richard’s windpipe.
Holly watched as John tried to strangle the man she loved. She couldn’t just sit by and let it happen. She prised Tundol off her and was about to launch herself at John’s back when her eyes fell on Richard’s discarded pistol. She didn’t hesitate. She walked the short distance, picked it up off the ground, crept up behind John and pressed it to the back of his head.
‘Get off him. Now!’ Her voice was surprisingly firm. It didn’t betray a fragment of her inward quaking. And inside she was seriously quaking. But her fury at John gave her an outward calm and after days of feeling frantic and helpless, the gun suddenly gave her power.
John’s hands stilled instantly and he let go, raising his arms in a surrender motion. He rose slowly and Richard scrambled out from beneath him.
‘Stay down,’ Holly demanded in a voice that would have done a heroine from a horror movie proud.
‘Well done, Holly,’ said Richard, brushing himself off. ‘Give me the gun.’
‘No way,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m going to make him pay.’ And she cocked the gun.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
RICHARD heard a note in Holly’s voice that made him believe she was serious. He looked at her, her chest heaving, her eyes fixed on the back of John’s head, her arms held out straight, both her hands gripping the pistol. He recognised the look on her face. Hatred and impotence and rage. She was mad as hell and wanted revenge. He knew how that felt. But he also knew how it felt in the hours and days and the months and the years after. And he didn’t want her to go through that—ever.
‘Holly.’
She didn’t answer. She was so focused on the back of John’s head he doubted whether she’d even heard him.
‘Holly,’ he repeated, louder this time, and she glanced at him briefly. ‘Don’t do this, Holly, you’ll never forgive yourself.’
‘He kidnapped us, he terrorised us, he enslaved Tundol. He has to pay, Richard. He has to.’
‘He will, Holly. But not like this.’
‘Why not? Why not like this?’ She glanced at him quickly again, licking her dry lips. ‘Jungle justice. He would have killed you or me without thinking twice.’
‘You do this, and you’re no better than him.’
‘He just tried to choke you to death,’ she said, her eyes beseeching him. ‘He’s a rebel soldier. You told me they were desperate and would stop at nothing, Richard. You told me that. Well, I believe you now.’
‘No, Holly. All he is at the moment is an unarmed man,’ he said, edging forward as he started to see the first signs of doubt creep into her eyes. ‘If you do this, you’re going to have to live with yourself for the rest of your life. Trust me, killing another person diminishes you as a human being, no matter what the justification. You want to end up like me? So screwed up I can’t commit to anyone and a head full of nightmares I can’t stop?’
‘But if we let him go, he’s going to conti
nue to terrorise innocent people. You were right, Richard. A rebel is a rebel is a rebel.’
‘Was I, Holly?’ he asked, inching forward some more, still holding his hand out for the gun. ‘What about Mila? Kia? If I was so right, they would never have helped us. But they did. I was wrong, Holly. You were right. We can’t tar everyone with the same brush.’
‘OK, maybe not, but we can him,’ she said, poking John in the back of the head with the gun. Richard was making sense and her thoughts were confused now. She felt her anger dissipating. Didn’t he have to pay for what he’d done to them?
‘We can let the justice system deal with John,’ Richard cajoled, sensing Holly was wavering. ‘His kind of justice doesn’t work among decent human beings.’
Holly’s heart was still racing and her mouth was as dry as the desert. Was he right? She’d been stretched to the outer limit of what she’d thought she was capable of in the last few days, and she’d been surprised. She never would have thought herself capable of toying with a man’s life. She’d never even fired a gun before. But here she was.
And that’s what you are, Holly. You’re not this person looking for revenge. You’re scared and you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, but this isn’t you. Don’t ruin your life. I’m telling you, you’ll never get past it.’
Holly looked at Richard. The note of sincerity jarred her out of the hate and anger that had been clouding her vision. She saw the hurt and the pain in the depths of his black eyes that was always there. That he carried around with him every day. He believed what he was saying. She didn’t want John’s death on her hands. He was right, killing the rebel soldier just brought her to John’s level.
She took a pace back and lowered the gun. Richard took two strides and caught her as she sagged, removing the gun from her unprotesting fingers. He pulled her close to his chest and he could feel her body trembling violently.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she sobbed into his chest. ‘I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just felt so powerless and suddenly…I wasn’t.’ And she sobbed some more.