by Vanessa Kier
“Dammit, I know I wasn’t around enough after the attack, but how can Kirra not know that I love her? That I would have killed Franz and the others with my bare hands if I’d had the chance?”
Seth’s anger dissipated. “Listen,” he said, “you need to talk to Kirra about this, but she believes that you and your parents decided she’d deserved the attack because of the life she’d been living.”
“Shit. That’s not what I thought.”
“Really? Think back. Because according to Kirra, you’ve never stopped seeing her as immature and irresponsible. All she gets from you is disapproval and criticism. So how is she supposed to know that you love her?”
Dev’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you that she talked about this?”
“I’m the guy who sees her as she is. Kirra’s a strong, capable, and intelligent woman. More importantly, she’s a survivor.” Seth glared at Dev. “She deserves your respect, not your lectures. As a highly independent person, she wants to be treated as an equal partner, not a liability.” Regret pinched him. He’d called Kirra a liability earlier, sounding too much like her brother, even though he’d been trying to protect her. Yet, unlike Dev, Seth saw Kirra as a woman worthy of his respect.
Dev stared at Seth a long while, realization filling up his eyes. Then he swore under his breath and took two steps toward the house.
Seth stepped in front of him. “You can’t go barging in there all angry and covered in blood,” he warned. “She’s only going to see the evidence of violence, not hear your apology.”
Dev hung his head and blew out a breath. “You’re right, dammit.” Then he raised his head and glanced around the yard. “Is there an outdoor tap?”
“Yeah.” Seth pointed to the other side of the yard, by the garage. “I’m going inside to clean up and put some clothes on.”
Dev nodded, then headed for his Jeep. Probably to get something to wipe away the blood.
Seth retrieved the AK-47 and entered the house. He set the rifle on the kitchen table, then walked down to the bedroom. Kirra was asleep, curled on her side facing away from him. He grabbed his pack and snuck out without waking her.
“So,” Seth said once he and Dev were presentable again. He handed Dev a cup of coffee he’d just made, having explained that Kirra was still sleeping. He cleared his throat. “Any luck on that request I made?”
Dev gave him a hard look, then took a sip of his coffee, wincing slightly as the hot liquid hit the cuts inside his mouth. “Marcus, uh, Indy said, and I quote ‘What the fuck kind of trouble did you get into this time Parakeet?’”
Seth’s heart sank. Shit. He’d really hoped that Dev and Marcus would help his family. What did he have to do? Beg? Because he would.
Dev sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t look so devastated man, we’re working on it. Your niece and the rest of your family should be safe in another couple of hours.”
Seth collapsed into the nearest chair. “Run that by me again.”
Dev flicked a glance at his watch. “We should hear back within a couple of hours from a privately run organization in the U.S. called the SSU. Long story short, Max, one of our newest team members, is back in the States recuperating from knee surgery. Marcus called Max, and Max put in a call to a guy he knew in the Marines who now works with this SSU group. They’re mostly made up of former special forces types. Max says they have a solid reputation for getting the job done discreetly and with minimal casualties. They should have a team in place in two or three hours to extract your family and get them to a safe house.”
Seth put his head in his hands to hide the tears that sprang to his eyes. Damn. He’d never thought he’d hear those words. It felt as if an anvil had just been lifted off his chest.
After a moment, he surreptitiously wiped his eyes on his shirt, then raised his head. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“Damn right, you do. Now, what’s your plan?”
Seth reached for his phone. “First, create more chaos among the rebels.” He dialed Rick Martin. When the man didn’t pick up, Seth left a message. “Martin, I’m not going to be able to make your boss’s deadline. Another party has exerted more influence and ordered me to turn the diamonds over to Bureh. Call me if you want to renegotiate.”
“Did you just call one of Morenga’s men?”
“Yeah. Rick Martin, his head of security.” Seth explained about Morenga’s deadline regarding the diamonds. And—”
Tires crunched outside.
Seth leapt to his feet. Dev raced to the back door, but it sounded to Seth as if the vehicle was heading for the road, so he ran to the front. He pulled the curtain aside and saw the taillights of Dev’s Jeep turn out of the gate.
Dev raced into sight a second later. He stopped just outside the gate, then spun and slammed his hand into the support post.
Heart in his throat, Seth dashed down to the bedroom. No Kirra. Her backpack huddled in the corner where she’d left it. The bag of diamonds sat on the bedside table.
“Dammit!” He snatched up the diamonds and bolted into the hallway, nearly colliding with Dev. “I’ll drive,” Seth said. He grabbed the AK-47, shoved his phone into his pocket, and sprinted for the 4Runner.
Dev was right on his heels.
Seth started the vehicle and threw it into reverse. Dev tossed his bag on the floor of the passenger seat, jumped in, and slammed the door closed inches before it hit the side of the house.
“What did you do?” Seth demanded. “Leave the keys in the ignition?”
“No. They were in the pocket of my bag, just inside the bungalow’s rear door.”
Seth shook his head, spun the 4Runner around, and gunned for the open gate.
“Kirra must have seen our fight,” Seth said. The 4Runner’s tires kicked up gravel as he made the turn onto the unpaved lane and sped after the Jeep. “Before you arrived, she suggested that she offer herself to the rebels as bait.”
“Why the hell would she do that?”
“You don’t think the life of my niece is important enough?” Seth snarled. Although he knew that wasn’t the only reason Kirra had taken off.
The Jeep’s taillights disappeared around a corner. Seth coaxed more speed out of the 4Runner, careened around the corner, and spotted the Jeep several hundred yards ahead. As long as he had a visual on Kirra, there was time to stop her.
“Ja, of course Kirra wants to save your niece,” Dev said. “But what does she think she can do? She’s not so stupid that she’d think they’d treat her kindly.”
Seth growled in warning.
Dev froze, then cursed under his breath. “Stupid. That’s what you were talking about, isn’t it? Tossing around words like stupid without realizing how it affected Kirra.”
Seth nodded.
Dev beat his fist against the dash. “Fine. You tell me what Kirra is thinking.”
Seth followed the Jeep around another corner and explained about the various deadlines. “Kirra wants to rescue the people trapped inside the concert venue. She thought that if she surrendered, it would give you and me time to free the hostages.”
“But we’re trained soldiers. She isn’t.”
He shared Dev’s frustration. “No, but as she reminded me, she’s trained to escape custody.” He flicked a glance at Dev. “Your sister slipped out of the handcuffs the rebels secured her with after the bus attack.”
“Really? That was her? I saw the empty cuffs. Escaping took skill and an ability to ignore pain.”
“Yeah. Getting free tore up her wrists.” Seth cleared his throat. “She’s one of the most courageous people I’ve ever met. If anyone can survive the rebels, she can.”
“But we’re not going to let them take her.”
“Not if I can help it.” Up ahead, the Jeep hit the paved road and the distance between them grew. “Jesus,” Seth muttered. “What kind of engine do you have in that thing?” He had the accelerator to the floor, yet the Jeep was still pulling away.
Dev groan
ed. “It’s a monster. All our vehicles have to be able to outrun the bad guys.”
“Our?” Seth asked as a way to take his mind off his growing panic.
“Just a figure of speech,” Dev said.
“Mm-hmm. So, are any of your non-existent teammates coming to back you up?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dev said. “But even if I did have teammates, they wouldn’t be available. You don’t have to worry about Marcus kicking your butt.”
Marcus. Yeah, there was someone else he’d failed. Better not to think about that right now.
The road left the small town, ran between fields of half-grown millet, then dipped into a hollow filled with skinny trees that didn’t provide much cover. On the other side of the grove were more fields with an occasional wide-crowned tree standing sentinel.
Kirra turned left onto a wider road.
“Do you have a map in your duffel?” Seth demanded as he took the turn on two tires. “I need a spot where we can cut her off.”
“There isn’t one. This is the only road between here and the field that’s being used as a car park for the concert. On the other side of the car park is one of the two bridges. It spans the deep drop down to the river.”
“River?”
“Yeah. It borders the concert premises on three sides. The back side is mostly forested land. That’s where the performer and staff access road comes in from the main road.”
Impressed that Dev had recited all that from memory, Seth glanced at him.
Dev shrugged. “As soon as I realized that Kirra was heading here, I memorized the layout,” he told Seth. “Plus, Dr. LaSalle—who, by the way, received your message and passed your number on to me—had one of his contacts from this area draw me a map.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his duffel, studied it a moment, and made a sound of disappointment.
“There are a couple of footpaths through the fields,” Dev said. “Since we’d have to slow down to take them, they won’t help us get in front of her.”
The trees ended, giving Seth a clear view as Kirra drove the Jeep past a row of ticket booths and into the knot of rebel soldiers manning a checkpoint at the near end of the bridge.
“No!” Seth and Dev shouted at the same time.
The rebel soldiers scattered. A couple of men had the presence of mind to fire at the Jeep as it skidded. The Jeep’s passenger side slammed into the stone balustrade of the bridge.
One of the rebels yanked open the driver’s door and pulled Kirra out. He shoved her against the side of the Jeep and pressed his gun to the back of her neck.
Kirra placed her hands on the top of her head.
Seth hesitated, torn between charging forward and attempting a bold rescue, and the reality that ten soldiers could easily hold him and Dev off as long as they held Kirra as a hostage.
“Stop the damn car,” Dev snapped. “Back up so they don’t spot us.”
Seth hit the brakes and put the vehicle into reverse until they were deep enough to be hidden from a casual glance in their direction, but not so far that they couldn’t see the action around the Jeep.
Seth flexed his hands as another rebel stepped forward and ran his hands roughly over Kirra. Shaking his head, the rebel stood back and said something to her.
She shrugged. The man with the rifle reversed it, then drove the stock between Kirra’s shoulder blades. She collapsed to the ground.
“He’s a dead man walking,” Seth gritted out.
“As big brother I get first blood,” Dev said. He reached into the duffel at his feet and pulled out a pair of binoculars. “Those aren’t Bureh’s men,” he said after a moment’s study. “I think they’re a new, smaller offshoot calling themselves the East Side Boys.”
Just what they didn’t need. Another damn player in an already complicated game. “You’re sure this SSU group is going to secure my family?”
“That’s what Max said. He used to work with some…ah…other players in the region when they all belonged to Uncle Sam. I’ve never met the guy, but he’s the one who took down Dietrich.”
Seth whistled, impressed. Everyone in the West African underworld had heard how two Americans had fouled the deal between Dietrich and Morenga, resulting in the international arms dealer being taken into U.S. custody.
“If Max says the SSU can deliver,” Dev continued, “I believe him.”
An open-topped rebel Jeep tore across the bridge and skidded to a stop next to Dev’s Jeep, which now had steam rising from under its hood. Kirra’s captor yanked her to her feet and shoved her into the back seat of the rebel Jeep, where another rebel handcuffed her to the roll bar. Then the first man hopped into the front passenger seat and the Jeep raced back across the bridge.
The Jeep turned left and followed the curve of the temporary wall surrounding the concert grounds. About halfway along the wall, the Jeep screeched to a halt. One of the rebels jammed a pistol against Kirra’s temple while another rebel un-cuffed her from the roll bar. They shoved her out of the Jeep, marched her between two portable toilets, and disappeared through a door in the wall.
“All right,” Seth said, taking the binoculars from Dev and scanning the scene. He took his fear for Kirra, for his niece, and for the rest of his family, and channeled it into deadly focus. Wondering what the odds were that the assassin was nearby, he said, “Here’s the plan.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“So, Michael Hughes has the diamonds,” Rio told Morenga. He’d just finished speaking to Hughes and the man’s audacity surprised him. Although, after the way he’d stolen Morenga’s plane, maybe he should have expected something like this.
“Another party has exerted pressure on Hughes to turn the diamonds over to Bureh instead of us,” Rio continued. “However, he’s is willing to renegotiate with us.”
“I am not in the habit of making deals to get back what was stolen from me.”
Considering that Morenga’s allies had stolen the diamonds, then smuggled them out of Angola, Rio figured it was a stretch to call the diamonds Morenga’s, but he wasn’t going to argue.
“Yes sir, I am aware of that.” Rio slowed his Range Rover and downshifted as he skirted one of the many potholes in the road. “But the circumstances here are a bit unusual.” Yeah, that was the understatement of the century. It had turned into a regular cluster fuck, and it was all Rio’s fault. If he hadn’t arranged for the diamonds to be stolen in the first place, none of this would have happened. But it was too late to go back. The best he could do was try to fix it now.
“Very well. What—” Morenga’s voice cut out over the connection on Rio’s satellite phone. Rio twisted his Bluetooth receiver tighter into his ear, then reached out the window and adjusted the portable antenna he’d stuck on the roof. “Sorry, sir. There was too much static on the line. Could you repeat that, please?”
“What does Mr. Hughes propose in exchange for returning my diamonds?”
That was one of the qualities Rio admired about Morenga. The guy could be reasonable. He had no problem changing his mind if it benefited him. “Bureh’s rebels are one of the groups that have taken over part of the concert premises. They’ve blockaded the roads and have men guarding the bridges that give access to the concert. Hughes suggests that if a team of our men were to take out the rebels, then he could claim to the other interested party that he tried in good faith to comply with their demands, but the diamonds were taken from him by someone else.”
“Why does Mr. Hughes believe I would risk such a public move?”
“He knows you’re in conflict with Bureh and that most of the rebels here are Bureh’s men. Hughes figures you’ll jump at the chance to come off as a hero in the eyes of the local population, thus giving the political candidates you’re backing an extra boost.”
“That is a dangerously astute summary,” Morenga murmured. “I had no idea our pilot friend paid such close attention to the power structure of the region.”
Rio held his breath. More
nga was always controlled in his actions, unlike his dangerously impulsive and thankfully deceased son, Natchaba. Yet Rio had trouble predicting Morenga’s actions. At times he chose to destroy enemies that Rio considered too minor to bother with. Other times Morenga left alone those who’d proved to be a threat.
The man played a very long-term, complicated game.
“What is your assessment of the situation?” Morenga asked.
“I think that if Hughes doesn’t find a believable way out of his dilemma, either he’ll turn over the diamonds to Bureh, or he’ll be killed.”
“The life of one pilot, a foreigner no less, is of no consequence to me. No matter how skilled he might be. But good public relations is always important.”
There was a lengthy pause. Rio thought he heard voices conferring in the background. “Is there any sign of the government’s troops?” Morenga finally asked.
“My sources say they’re mobilizing, but not likely to arrive for another few hours.” Rio braked to allow a herd of goats to cross the road.
“Very well. The commander of my forces says that an assault against Bureh’s men may be possible. He will analyze the situation further and let you know if he decides to follow through. In the meantime, tell Hughes that we agree to his terms. Set up a meeting. Then, if necessary, you will take the diamonds by force.”
“Yes, sir.”
Morenga disconnected and Rio set the phone on the console. He rolled his shoulders while he waited for the last goat to disappear into the brush. He found it interesting that Hughes had not said that Bureh himself had given him the deadline. Who else was powerful enough to force Hughes into going against Morenga by delivering the diamonds to Bureh?
And what about the girl? Hughes hadn’t mentioned her.
When Rio had been introduced to Hughes, he’d sensed an inner core of integrity underneath the pilot’s tough guy exterior. Hughes didn’t seem the type to support a psychopath such as Bureh unless the threat against him was huge. But then, Rio wouldn’t have pegged the pilot as the sort to fly for any of the criminal elements in the region.