Black Smoke

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Black Smoke Page 11

by Robin Leigh Miller


  Sam wasn’t prepared for the flutter she felt in her stomach when he told her he respected her. It was the nicest thing he’d said to her since they met. But she didn’t understand why it made her feel giddy. Maybe it was the way his face looked in the moonlight, or the way his damp hair was all mussed.

  “What exactly did you see?” she asked curiously.

  “Just what I said. You were covered in white light and then a gold ball of light appeared and floated over your body. It disappeared and two figures formed.” He wasn’t about to tell her what he’d heard inside his head. That was something he’d deal with later.

  Sam sat listening intently. The gold light must have been her guide and it would explain how she healed so fast. But the white light and two figures, that she didn’t understand. Remind me to ask you about this later, she said to her guide, then pushed it aside.

  “Well, at least you heard me out. Like I said, I’ve never told anyone my story before. People I work with only know me as Smoke and that I’m good at what I do. Beyond that, I’m nothing.”

  “You’re not nothing!” Kong practically yelled. When Sam startled, he cursed himself. “I mean, if someone took the time to find out who you are, you’d have lots of friends.”

  Sam could see color creeping into his cheeks. “Are you saying you’re my friend Mark?”

  Kong looked over at her, he intended to tell her no, but when he saw the moonlight in her eyes, he figured he was just kidding himself. “Yeah Sam, I’m your friend.” He smiled.

  “So, is this a truce? No more browbeating me, thinking I’m the enemy?”

  Her smile melted all the indifference he’d felt toward her. All that was left was a need. After all she’d told him, his body still wanted her. “You’re not my enemy Sam.” The words came out thick and husky.

  Sam shivered from the look he was giving her. Heat pooled in the center of her stomach, then began to travel lower. Try as she did, she couldn’t push the feeling away.

  After clearing her throat, she said, “So we’re cool? I’m a team member just like the other two?”

  “You’re a team member. But not like the other two,” he told her. “Not at all like the other two.”

  The air between them seemed to grow thick and hot. Sam’s skin began to prickle and her heart started to race. From the look on Kong’s face, he was feeling it as well. This was new to her, something she’d never felt before in her life. And man, did it feel nice.

  “What I said earlier, about your back. I wasn’t talking about your scars. I saw them, but I saw past them,” he told her reaching out and brushing his knuckles across her cheek. As soon as he touched her, a lightning jolt ran through his arm and went straight to his chest. His heart squeezed, then released, giving him a light, warm feeling. This feeling was far beyond lust and it scared the hell out of him.

  Sam nearly melted from his touch. It was so soft, so caring. Something she’d never experienced before in her life. Yes, she’d taken lovers in the past, but they never made her feel so wanted with just a simple touch.

  “Kong, you readin’ me?”

  Both jumped at the sound of Ricochet’s voice. Both let out breath that they had been holding.

  Sam looked away from his gaze, afraid that she’d revealed too much in her eyes. When she did, Kong lightly grabbed her chin and turned her back to face him. The moment had been lost, but the look in his eyes was still telling. He wanted her to know that, wanted her to see that it wasn’t a mistake.

  “Kong.”

  This time, Kong reached out with his free hand and lifted the radio to his mouth, while still holding Sam’s face. “I read you,” he said into the radio, then dropped his hand.

  When he did, Sam jumped to her feet and put some distance between them. This was way too intense for her. Feelings were running through her body at record speed and all of them were new to her. They were exhilarating feelings and scary. Now wasn’t the time for this, they had a job to do. People’s lives depended on them. Mentally shaking herself, she forced the feelings aside.

  “We’re at the target. It’s not big,” Ricochet reported.

  Still watching Sam, Kong replied, “Is there any activity inside the building?”

  “Negative. There’s one light on, but no sign of anyone movin’ around.”

  “If they have him in there, someone should be watching over him,” Kong said with concern.

  “I agree. But so far, nothin’. Maybe everyone went to bed.” Ricochet yawned into the radio.

  “Yeah, maybe. Sit tight and keep an eye out. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Roger that,” Ricochet replied.

  Kong sat a moment and kicked a few scenarios around in his head. The biggest one was that they missed their opportunity. Or possibly, they had been given bogus information. Either way, they needed to check it out.

  Sam could see he was puzzling it out and didn’t want to disturb his train of thought, so she stayed quiet and let him alone. It wouldn’t be wise to step in now. Besides, the way her body was still humming, she needed the space.

  They are inside Samantha.

  So we do have the right building? she asked silently.

  Yes.

  Sam trusted that Kong would make the right decision. He wouldn’t come this far and walk away, she felt sure of it. Letting him think it through for himself was the best thing at the moment.

  “Sam, what do you think?” he asked.

  The surprised look on her face made him chuckle. “Don’t look so surprised. Can you tell me anything or not?”

  Sam strolled over and sat across from him. “It’s the right house. They’re inside.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t get testy. I’m trying,” he said as he stood.

  She knew he was right. He was trying. “Sorry, I’m just not used to anyone other than Uncle Walt knowing about this.”

  “Fair enough,” he said then stretched out his hand to help her up.

  Sam hesitated, then put her hand in his and allowed him to help her to her feet. The feel of his hand wrapped tightly around hers was making her body start to hum all over again. When she stood, he didn’t release her. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in a soft stroke. Shivers ran up and down her spine, then she gave a short gasp.

  When Kong heard it, he couldn’t help but smile. He wasn’t sure what was happening between them, but he knew he wasn’t the only one feeling it. For some reason, that made him feel better.

  “Let’s roll,” he said, then dropped her hand.

  * * * * *

  Sam led the way through the dark. Kong was a few feet behind her, but it felt like he was right next to her. Her body was still feeling the effects of him and that wasn’t good. She needed to be fully alert if they were going to pull this off. And she was definitely not fully alert.

  Kong watched her as she walked silently through the desert. She moved like a large cat would stalking its prey. Silent and deadly he thought, in more ways than one. The spectacle he’d witnessed earlier wasn’t as shocking to him now as it had been. Sure, at first it shook him to his very core, but now it was something beautiful.

  Thinking back to his childhood, he remembered a few times when he’d been in need of help himself. Times when his father was so drunk he didn’t know who he was punching, or how hard.

  He could remember cowering in the corner of his small room in the trailer, screaming out for help inside his head.

  Only when his father passed out did the young Mark relax enough to let the help come through. The soft touch to his face by a hand that wasn’t there, or the warmth that seemed to surround him like a heavy blanket had been wrapped gently over his shoulders. He remembered the smell of roses, often late at night when he was wishing he’d never been born.

  Then there was the time when he’d turned fourteen. He’d been in his eighth foster home. The people were nice enough, but they had two other foster children living with
them as well. One a girl, the other a boy two years older then him. The girl was small and shy, never speaking unless spoken to and quick to make herself useful. The boy on the other hand was always trying to stir up trouble. Blaming Mark for stealing money he’d taken, or making it look like Mark was responsible for broken furniture, or windows.

  On one particularly bad day, Mark came home from school to find a police car sitting in front of the house, along with an ambulance. Mark walked by the officers unnoticed and made his way inside. He found his foster mother sitting on the couch covered in bruises. Blood was running from her nose, her clothes had been torn. Fear made the young Mark begin to shake as he watched the paramedics administer first aid.

  “He’s sixteen Mr. Hester. He’ll probably do adult time,” one of the officers told his foster father. “We’ll need you to come down to the station and give us a complete statement.”

  Mark knew who they were speaking of. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. His foster brother was a time bomb waiting to go off. And from the looks of it, today was the day.

  “We need to call social services. They’ll have to come and pick up the other two children. I don’t think my wife will be able to take care of them any longer,” Mr. Hester told the officer.

  It wasn’t long until the familiar face of Ms. Kennedy, the woman in charge of his case, made her appearance. She ushered him and the girl into the back of her car and started down the road.

  Mark sat quietly in the back, watching as the trees and houses went by, wondering if he’d ever find someone to love him. That’s when he heard it. The voice so clear and calming inside his head.

  You will find your place one day. And someone to love you. Be patient Mark. Your time will come.

  The voice was soothing and full of hope. He’d held onto those words until he turned eighteen. The day he enlisted he swore he would take care of himself from now on and to hell with anyone coming along to love him.

  Now here he was, in the middle of the desert, in a hostile country, working with a woman who claimed she heard these voices all the time. Not only heard them, but was guided by them. And not just any woman. A woman who made him think of things he swore he could live without. Things like tenderness, companionship and the need to have someone by your side all the time.

  “Kong.”

  The single word brought him from his thoughts. How long had be been walking blindly behind her, not paying attention to what was happening?

  “Kong, you still with me?” she asked.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” he responded.

  “We’re almost there. You want to radio Ricochet and find out where to meet them?”

  Kong switched his radio channel to Boomer and Ricochet’s frequency. “Ricochet, give us your location.”

  Sam waited and watched with an eagle eye as Kong received the coordinates. She was feeling jumpy, uneasy. She never felt like this during a mission and that made her all the more uneasy.

  Something bad was going to happen, she could feel it all the way to her core.

  Tell me this will all work out, she said silently in her head. Tell me we will all go home alive.

  No answer came, just silence. Sam knew when she didn’t receive an answer it was because she wasn’t supposed to. Things would work out the way they were meant to and she’d have to live with it.

  She didn’t hear or even sense Kong as he came up next to her. The start he gave her was clear on her face. God, she had to get it together. She needed to make sure these people all made it home alive.

  “Everything okay?” Kong could see her eyes and they were unsure.

  “Yeah, fine. How far away are they?”

  Kong didn’t answer right away, he didn’t like the look in her eyes. Something wasn’t right.

  “They’re holed up in an abandoned building behind the target. You know, the one you picked out? Still no sign of movement.”

  Sam nodded her head. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Kong followed her closely. It only took fifteen minutes to reach the building where Ricochet and Boomer were hiding. They had only encountered one person on the street, an elderly woman almost running down the sandy street. Her whole body was covered in the traditional Burka. Kong doubted she’d be able to see them in the dark. The heavy material surrounded her face acted like a shield. When the woman scurried inside one of the dilapidated dwellings the two continued on. The silence on the street was almost deafening. Kong preferred activity over silence. With activity around, every sound you made didn’t seem like it was going over an intercom system. Nonetheless, no one seemed to be around to hear them tonight.

  When they met up with the other two, Sam felt a great sense of relief. Even though she knew they were all right, it was still good to see them. Why she felt so connected to these three men confused her. She’d never felt so responsible for other people she’d worked with. This was something she’d have to put aside for now and study later. That list was growing by leaps and bounds.

  “What’s up?” Kong asked the two men.

  “Ya know, that’s the weird part. Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Ricochet said in his high-pitched street voice. “I don’t like this Kong. I don’t like it one bit.”

  “How about you Boomer? What’s your take on the situation?”

  “Well,” Boomer’s lazy style of talking made Sam smile. “I agree with Ricochet. Usually we see some kind of activity, no matter what the situation. But I haven’t seen one ounce of movement.”

  Kong sat and watched the building himself for a few moments. This was strange. Surely they wouldn’t walk away with a hostage inside the building? Or would they? He needed to see what was going on inside.

  “Smoke, what can you tell me?” he asked without taking his eyes off the dwelling.

  “Only that it’s the right building and that he’s in there,” she replied.

  Ricochet and Boomer looked at each other, then at Kong. When they left the campsite, the two were at each other’s throat. Now he was asking her for an opinion.

  “I need to see inside the building, see what the layout is like.” Kong said to all three.

  “Let me do it.” Sam was sure she’d meet some resistance, but she needed to do it herself. Kong looked over at her in the darkness. The worry was still thick in her eyes, but her face showed determination. “Okay. Don’t take long.”

  The three men watched as she seemed to disappear into the darkness. When she was out of sight, Ricochet leaned back against a large rock that had once been used as part of the dwelling’s wall. Running his hand over his bald head a few times, he studied his friend.

  “Ya wanna tell us what’s going on?” he asked in a tired voice.

  “Hunh?”

  “When we left, we were sure only one of ya was gonna make it outta camp alive. Now, ya treatin’ her like she’s one a us. What gives?”

  “Nothing gives Ric. I just understand her a little better, that’s all.”

  “You want to fill us in?” Boomer asked patiently.

  Kong turned then and looked at them. He’d never held anything back from them before in his association with them, but this wasn’t his story to tell. “Look, I misread her, that’s all. We talked a while and I see where she’s coming from, that’s all.”

  “You sure?” The questioning look in Boomer’s eyes made Kong feel a bit guilty, but it couldn’t be helped. Like he said, it wasn’t his story to tell.

  “I’m sure.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sam stepped with sure, quiet feet toward the building. The closer she got, the more uneasy she began to feel. Her eyes darted from side to side as she neared the building, watching and waiting for anything to spring from the shadows. The debris that lay around her was a sign that this village had seen fighting. Whether it came from American bombs or tribal wars she didn’t know.

  It saddened her to think of the people that must have died. Surely with this much destruction lives had been lost. Then the sight of the towe
rs falling in New York flashed through her mind, along with the Pentagon scene and the hole in the ground in Pennsylvania where the last plane went down. Her heart swelled with pride as she thought of all those people on that plane, doing what was necessary to stop more innocent lives from being taken.

  It wasn’t her job to be a judge in this situation. Her job at the moment was to get the hostage out safely and back home where he belonged. A job that was supposed to be routine, but was quickly becoming anything but.

  Sam spotted a dim light seeping through a crack in the wall off to her left. She crossed over to the crack and pressed her eye up to it. There was just enough light for her to see two people lying on the dirt floor, bound and gagged. Both men were covered in filth, but Sam could see red hair beneath it on one of them. The other man was older, frailer looking. He’d either been held longer, or his age had not allowed him to hold up under the duress he’d been forced to endure.

  There is one more Samantha in a back room.

  Sam continued around the outside of the dwelling, her feeling of unease growing by the second. As she neared the center of the wall, she felt a strong force stop her. Sam was used to these things happening to her, so she stopped. Listening with her ear to the wall, she could hear sobbing. Female sobbing. The hair on her arms stood straight up. They had themselves a woman. Sam’s stomach rolled. She knew what these men did to women. Fury replaced the sick feeling in her stomach.

  Looking up, she saw a small window just a foot over her head. Sam found a piece of rubble to stand on, then pulled herself up to the window. The burning, tearing feeling she felt in her arm was ignored. She had to see what was behind this wall.

  The sight sickened her, then pure anger washed over her. The woman was shackled to a cot, her naked body covered with cuts made by a knife. Even in the dim light of the moon she could see the bruises that covered her body. It was hard to tell if she was American or Afghan. To Sam it didn’t matter. A brutalized woman was a brutalized woman.

  Sam vowed that she would remove this woman from her torture chamber, but she would have to wait. Leaving her made Sam angry all over again. Anger was what was going to fuel her to complete this mission. Sure now that there had to be Taliban men in the building, she jumped down from the window, then continued her search. Sure enough, two men were seated outside the door of the woman’s chamber. They were laughing and eating.

 

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