WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3)

by Vanessa Kier

  “Seth, what kind of trouble are you in?” she whispered.

  She knew without a doubt that if she let him turn her over to Dev, Seth would disappear without a word.

  Furious that he could even contemplate leaving her despite the connection between them, Kirra set about tidying up the room. As she stripped the sheets off the bed she pulled too hard and overbalanced. Stumbling back, she tripped over Seth’s backpack. She hit the floor on her bum and the pack fell over, spilling some of its contents. Then the sheet settled over her head.

  Kirra fought her way free of the sheet, crumpled it into a ball, then set Seth’s pack to rights. But when she grabbed one of his shirts to shove it back inside, she heard a crinkling underneath. Two unsealed, blue airmail letters had fallen out of the pack.

  One letter was addressed to a woman with the same last name that Dev had used on Seth’s voicemail.

  Kirra’s breath caught. A relative? Or a wife? Had she so misjudged Seth that she hadn’t even suspected that he was married?

  She exhaled slowly. No. That wasn’t fair. Seth had never given any indication that his affections rested elsewhere.

  Nor had he made her any promises. Quite the contrary. He’d told her they had no future.

  Biting her lip, she stared at the letters. Instinct told her these were important.

  They’re none of my business.

  If she opened them she’d be violating Seth’s privacy. She hesitated.

  I have to know what he’s protecting me from.

  She carried the letters into the kitchen and lit the lantern on the table. Seth had no right to withhold information. No matter if he thought he was sparing her from fear or worry. Keeping her in the dark prevented her from making informed decisions. She refused to let him treat her as anything less than an equal.

  A quick glance down the passage confirmed that the door to the bathing room remained shut, so she unfolded the letter to the woman with the same last name.

  Hi Mom,

  I know you thought I probably died long before now. In a way, you’re right. The Seth you knew died many years ago. The man I’ve been since then is no one you would want to associate with. I’m sorry for that. It’s not your fault. Never think that. I just trusted the wrong people. You were the best mom a guy could have had.

  The reason I’m writing you now is to say good-bye for real. A situation has come up and I’m not going to make it out alive. Trust me, it’s better this way. Once I’m dead, you’ll finally be safe.

  Don’t try to find out what happened to me. Don’t ask anyone in the military what happened to me.

  Anyway, I just want you to know that I love you, Mom. Never doubt that for a moment. My biggest regret is that I so screwed up my life I couldn’t make it back to see you or Danika. Or Dad before he died. I wish I could have met little Brianna.

  Not a day has gone by when I don’t think of all of you and miss you.

  You might hear some bad things about me down the line. They’ll likely all be true. I’m sorry that I turned out to be such a disappointment as a son. I did my best to keep my mess from spilling over onto you, but now I’m backed into a corner. I don’t think my passing will be any great loss to the world. If you mourn me, please mourn the man I was when you last saw me. A man who still had his idealism intact. A man who still thought he could make a positive difference in the world. That’s the man I long to be today, but I can never return to that place.

  In a month or so, you’ll be contacted by my lawyer. I’ve left what I have to you and Danika. It’s not much. My plane is the only thing of value. You should be able to get a little bit of money from selling it. Sorry. The plane has been destroyed. I really wanted you to have some income from it.

  Don’t cry too long for me, Mom. I made mistakes but they were never your fault. Never anyone’s fault but my own. I’m going to make them right in the only way I know how.

  Peace and love.

  Your son,

  Seth

  Eyes blurred with tears, Kirra pulled her bandanna out of her pocket and wiped her eyes. Sorrow, sympathy, and despair squeezed her heart and clogged her throat until she could barely breathe. She blew her nose, then read the letter again. She didn’t have the heart to read the second letter.

  After the second read-through, Kirra dropped the letters to the surface of the table, pushed out of her chair, and walked over to the window. Dawn had turned the sky to gray. Dark clouds promised another storm, but for now, the rain had stopped. Leaning her forehead against the cool surface of the glass, she focused on regulating her breathing.

  She sucked air deep into her lungs and belly. Held it, then exhaled slowly. Trying to move past the betrayal. Trying to ignore the fact that the connection between her and Seth wasn’t a strong enough reason for him to keep on living.

  God, it hurt. But part of her had been expecting something like this. He’d warned her, hadn’t he? She just refused to listen. So there was nothing to do but lock up her emotions and pretend that Seth hadn’t just ripped out her heart.

  When she heard the bathing room door open, she glanced down the passage to the slice of light spilling onto the floor. For a brief while, her hope that she’d found something special with Seth had been like that patch of light, brightening the darkness of the past few days.

  The light on the floor widened, then was replaced by shadow as Seth emerged wearing just a towel around his waist.

  He headed toward the bedroom, then paused and instead moved toward Kirra. When he reached the kitchen doorway, he glanced at the table and froze as he spotted the letters. Then he raised his head and his furious gaze clashed with hers.

  “What the fuck, Kirra?” He strode into the room and snatched up the letters. “These are private. You had no right to read them.”

  “Well maybe you shouldn’t have made love to me, letting me think that you cared about me, when all along you’ve been planning to die!” So much for restraining her emotions.

  “I never made you any promises,” he snarled.

  “Perhaps not verbally, but don’t you dare tell me that you weren’t sending a different message with your body.”

  “That was a selfish mistake. I just wanted to grab one moment—” He cut himself off and looked away.

  The pain cut so deep, Kirra briefly closed her eyes. Then she opened them and snapped, “What? You thought that making love to me was something akin to a prisoner getting one last request before he died?”

  A muscle along his jaw ticked.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh perfect. Just perfect. You know I have a history of picking the wrong men. Men who aren’t capable of loving me. Who hurt me. You had to know that last night’s intimacy would only make it more painful when I learned of your death.”

  “You weren’t ever supposed to find out what happened,” Seth gritted out. “Once I handed you over to someone who could keep you safe, I planned to disappear.”

  “Like that somehow makes it better?” She wanted to smack him for being so dense. “Just what kind of trouble are you in that makes you believe you have to die?”

  “That’s none of your business.” He turned to leave.

  Kirra gave a low cry of frustration, darted forward, and grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare tell me that you planning to kill yourself isn’t my business! I love you. That makes it my business!”

  “I’m not planning to—”

  “Don’t you dare deny it.” She snatched the letter to his mother out of his hand and waved it in his face. “You say right here that you’re going to end it all.”

  “It’s not like I intended to crash my plane or blow my brains out,” he muttered, keeping his eyes averted.

  Everything inside her stilled. “You’re planning death by assassin.”

  His slight flinch confirmed that she’d nailed it. The bitter laugh that spilled out of her sounded as if it came from the frightened, needy girl she’d been after Kyle’s death. She flung the letter at the table and stepp
ed back. “What a horrible surprise to have me stumble into your life instead.”

  Seth raised his eyes. “No. I—”

  “No. Listen to me.” She took a deep breath as anxiety twisted her stomach into knots. She had to get through to him. She couldn’t bear it if he died. “Tell me why you didn’t leave me alone that night at the bar. If you were already planning to let the assassin kill you, why help me?”

  As much as she wanted to tell him that she knew why he’d gotten involved, she held her tongue. He needed to see it. To admit it.

  After a tense silence, he said, “Because you were the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a long time. This gorgeous, bedraggled angel. And—” He closed his eyes and whispered, “I couldn’t let the rebels have you. That’s not who I am.”

  Kirra bit back her relieved smile and put her arms around him. “You’re right, Seth. That’s. Not. Who. You. Are.”

  Seth squeezed her so tightly, she could barely breathe. “Kirra, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how I feel about you. I’m trapped and there’s no way out.”

  She felt the tension running through his muscles. Knew that he wanted to bolt. Or to lash out. But instead, he remained in place, quivering under her touch.

  “So tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do. Just leave it.”

  She couldn’t stop the growl that rose into her throat. “No. You don’t get it. I love you.” She pressed her cheek to the warm skin of his chest. “There has to be another way out.”

  Seth jerked free of her embrace and stepped back. “Don’t you think that if there were any other solution I’d take it? I don’t want to die, but it’s the only way to protect my family.”

  No. Oh, no. She could fight against anything except Seth’s deep love for his family that he’d revealed in his letters. Ignoring her breaking heart, she murmured, “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

  He sighed, then glanced down at the towel around his waist. “All right. But let me put some clothes on.”

  She followed him down to the bedroom, afraid to let him out of her sight.

  As he rummaged in his backpack for a change of clothes, he blurted, “I’m being blackmailed.”

  Kirra sucked in a breath and sat down hard on the bed.

  “It happened not long after I reached South Africa.” He dropped his towel and pulled on his shorts and trousers. “I worked odd jobs off the books in order to afford forged papers establishing my identity as Michael Hughes.” He cleared his throat. “You only know my real name because—”

  “Because you didn’t think you’d be alive long enough for it to matter.” Her throat constricted and she lowered her gaze to the floor. Since the moment he’d met her Seth had been running toward death, while she’d been running toward life.

  “That, and…well…” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I wanted to hear my real name from your lips. I wanted to be Seth again, the man who’d been an honorable—if something of a risk-taker and questioner of authority—member of an elite military team, instead of Michael Hughes, powerless and trapped pilot with blood on his hands.”

  Knowing that he’d wanted to be someone better for her only made the pain worse.

  “I took out a loan in order to buy a used plane,” Seth said. He was using the same detached voice he’d used when telling her about Southeast Asia. “I’d intended to set up a business flying for NGO’s or maybe even doing tourist flights.”

  He paused while he pulled a t-shirt over his head. “Everything changed when I received an envelope in the mail.”

  Hearing the anguished hitch in his voice, Kirra braced herself.

  “The envelope contained close-up photos of my mother, my sister, and my then three-year-old niece,” he continued. He flicked his thumb against his index finger. “The photos were taken inside their homes, at private moments. I’d barely had time to look at all of the pictures when I received a phone call.”

  Kirra held her breath.

  “The call was scrambled, but I think it was from a man,” Seth said, putting yesterday’s clothes into his pack and closing it up. “He told me that he’d sent the photos. That he knew who I really was. He told me that if I attempted to contact the authorities, anyone I spoke to would die the same way the friends I’d reached out to had died after the attack on the base.”

  “How did he know about that?”

  “I don’t know, but it freaked me out. Worse, he told me that he had a hit man stalking my family. As long as I took whatever flying assignment he gave me, he wouldn’t order the hit man to torture and kill my family. As a bonus, he’d pay off the loan on my plane.”

  “That’s why you’ve done work for the rebels and other criminals.”

  “Yeah. The first six months or so I flew jobs for him all over Africa, but for the past eighteen months, I’ve been working strictly in West Africa.”

  “Why you? What does the blackmailer get out of this?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what makes it so surreal. Any pilot could take the flights he gives me. Hell, for the rebels, using an American pilot goes against their anti-foreigner rhetoric. My blackmailer must have some long-term goal in mind, but I can’t figure it out.” He stood and faced her.

  “Once I saw those pictures, my blackmailer owned me. Do you understand that? To keep my family safe, I’ve flown women and children bound for the slave markets. I’ve delivered drugs to the rebels. Drugs that they use to keep control over their soldiers. I already told you about delivering the MP3 players that exploded at the festival.”

  Kirra had thought her heart couldn’t break any more. She’d been wrong.

  “When the cargos are particularly sensitive,” Seth continued, “I’m accompanied by a guard or two wearing suicide vests. If they sense any deviation from the set course, they’re under orders to blow up the plane.”

  He glanced down at his hands as if checking for blood. “I’ve done my best to pass anonymous tips to the authorities when I could, but it’s not enough.” He took a shaky breath. “I would have killed myself early on, but my blackmailer told me that suicide would still trigger the torture and killing of my family. I couldn’t risk them being hurt.”

  “And yet you did risk it, didn’t you?” She said through the emotions clogging her throat. “You said it yourself that you’ve been passing on information whenever possible.”

  “Yeah, and you know what? It hasn’t done any fucking good.” For a second his anger peeked through, then he tamped it down. “The rebels are still as ruthless as ever. They’re still ruining people’s lives without retribution.”

  “You’re incredibly strong for not breaking before this,” Kirra murmured.

  “Strong?” He gave a mocking laugh. “Let me tell you about strong. When I received the order to fly for Natchaba, I decided I couldn’t do it and still look at my reflection in the mirror. So I ran. But somehow my blackmailer tracked me down. I received another envelope. This time the photos showed my niece and my sister in the hospital. To punish me, my blackmailer had arranged a car accident.” He choked out the last words, then cleared his throat. “After that, I’ve been a good little boy and done as I’ve been told. So strong? Not me. I’m powerless.”

  “I meant mentally strong. Other men would have stopped caring. Yet you risked your life to help me because part of you still believes that it’s possible for the good guys to win.”

  He shook his head. “That was a momentary lapse. I’ve been terrified every day since the blackmailer contacted me. Every time I see a photo that shows the scar on my niece’s forehead from that car accident, I’m reminded that one more slip-up on my part could mean that the next photo I see is of her corpse.”

  “I still don’t see how killing yourself is going to help,” Kirra said. “Didn’t your blackmailer prohibit suicide?”

  “Suicide, yes. But when the assassin showed up this week, it seemed like the perfect solution. My blackmailer
had just sent me a new batch of photos, including one which showed a gun pressed to my sleeping niece’s head. To keep her safe, I’m supposed to start flying for Bureh on Saturday.”

  Kirra stared at him.

  “Yeah. He’s the last person on earth I want to associate with. Death by assassin is the perfect solution.”

  “Why didn’t you arrange for someone to kill you before now?” She could not believe they were actually having this conversation.

  Seth snorted. “Who could I trust? My blackmailer has proven time and time again that his influence extends everywhere. I didn’t even dare turn myself in to the U.S. military, because his knowledge of what happened after the attack on the base made it clear he controls people in the military, too.” He shook his head.

  “Suppose I found a mercenary willing to kill me,” he continued. “Then what? How could I be certain that the mercenary wouldn’t report back to my blackmailer? I have to die in a way that will protect my family.”

  Kirra stood up. “No. I want you to promise that you won’t do anything to hasten your death until after we talk to my brother.”

  “Kirra—” He shook his head.

  She glared at him. “Promise me. Dev will know what to do. He can help you.”

  Seth snorted. “Right. Your brother is just going to believe some cockamamie story from a guy he doesn’t know. A guy who has worked for the rebels. Worse, I have the nerve to be sleeping with his sister.” He shook his head. “Nope. Your brother isn’t going to help me. He’s going to kick my ass to hell and gone, whisk you away, then let the assassin have what’s left of me.”

  “If he does any of that, then he’s going to lose me, too,” Kirra said fiercely. “Because you’re worth fighting for. There has to be a way to protect your family without you dying.”

  “No. There is no way out. I’ve thought of everything. Nothing but death will give me the assurances I need that my family is safe.”

  “So that’s it? You’ve made up your mind and are simply going to give up trying to find a way for everyone to survive?”