Diamond Mine

by Felicia Rogers

  Spine erect, she lifted her head to the sky and fought to control her dizziness.

  And my readers said it wouldn’t work! She had concocted that move for a story, but the editor had asked her to remove it because of credibility. Well she’d showed them!

  Her chest heaved as she looked to see her captor unmoving on the ground. Memories of an article about heightened security in South Africa during a soccer championship came to mind. Something about whites and foreigners being kidnapped and sold into slavery on the black market.

  She moved in slow motion. Then she stopped altogether and started pacing. She tapped her finger to her forehead. She’d probably been spotted and followed as soon as she’d left the plane. How could she have been so stupid!

  With a look at her purchaser, she sighed and took off in a stumbling jog. After a few feet she tripped and fell hard on her elbows. Scrambling to get up, she heard a familiar voice.

  “Hannah! Wait!”

  Over her shoulder she saw the Brit pushing himself up. She wasn’t going to make it! He was coming for her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  What had she hit me with? His ears rang, and white spots danced before his eyes. Pulling himself together, he needed to stop her. If they’d been followed, Hannah would be captured again for sure. In her current condition, she wouldn’t survive many more days in the encampment.

  Rory stood to his feet and grasped his head to hold it steady. The world still spun, but at least he only saw two of everything instead of four.

  Hannah fell and he called her name. The hope that she would notice him and stop running left as she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening with fear.

  Trying a different tactic, he yelled, “Hannah Grace Baker, stop! It’s Rory.”

  She fell to her knees, and violent trembling assailed her. She hunched forward and wailed.

  Still dazed, Rory crawled toward her. He plopped down, sending a plume of dust into the air that descended around them. “Well, I must say this is some way to have a reunion.”

  He expected a response. Maybe a long drawn-out chat about how much she missed him, or perhaps a scolding and a rake over the coals for leaving without a goodbye? Or at the very least a hullo. Even just an acknowledgement of his presence would have been good, but she said nothing. The silence was worrisome, but her stature more so. She sat frozen, her eyes unblinking as she stared into space as if an unknown force loomed before her.

  If Rory had thought it would work, he would have waved his hand in front of her, but he feared she would remain in suspension, which would only scare him more.

  He sat beside her, pretending to see what she saw. The sun set. Autumn would come to the country soon. South Africa in late February was truly beautiful. The days held little rain and were hot and sunny, while the nights were pleasant and balmy.

  This was Rory’s favorite time of year. The summer tourists left, and the weather became perfect for hiking and exploring.

  As he waited for Hannah’s shock to subside, he thought back to earlier. The traffickers’ leader, Tapiwa, which meant capture, plunder, and ravage in African culture, had requested 15,000 Rand for Hannah’s purchase. Roughly that was one thousand pounds or around fifteen hundred American dollars. Rory had initially acted appalled at the outrageous amount, although inwardly he’d been pleased. For him, a thousand pounds hadn’t been hard to come by. He’d just wired—

  “I have to go back.”

  The unexpected sound of Hannah’s voice startled him. She jumped and walked toward the road. By now, Rory had regained his equilibrium and was able to follow her much faster, the prosthetic barely hampering his progress. Wonder why she hadn’t hit him over the head this time?

  He caught her and grabbed her arm. She glanced at his hand. A shudder raced through her body.

  “Hannah? What are you doing, love?”

  Silent tears slipped from her eyes and streamed along her filthy cheeks. He swiped them away with the back of his knuckle.

  “I have to go back,” she whispered.

  Reaching forward, he placed a stray hair behind her ear. “I’m going to take you home. You never need to go back there.”

  “No, I have to!”

  “Hannah, listen to me.” Rory grabbed her shoulders and made her face him. He felt her bones through the thin fabric. She needed to calm down and rest. She needed a vacation. She needed to lie on a beach, stretched out in a bathing suit, eating bonbons and having someone pamper her. And who would that someone be?

  Rory tried to focus on his goal of saving her. After which, he would return to his plan. Nothing else remained for him but to seek repentance through his hard labor. There was no time to get distracted by past loves. All that was important was the here and now.

  Her expression changed and she looked at him expectantly, waiting for his words of wisdom, like he had the answers to how it would all work out. He gulped and ran his hand through his hair. Now if only he knew what those answers were.

  ****

  Emerging from her stupor, Hannah announced, “I have to go back.”

  Rory followed her. He held her and tingles of awareness raced along her arms. He argued with her. Told her she never had to return, but he was wrong. She wouldn’t leave Melanie and the kids without a goodbye. She wouldn’t leave them to rot in prison.

  The pleading tone continued, yet she couldn’t do anything but concentrate on the movement of his lips.

  Rory? Was it even possible? She’d dreamed for years about seeing him again. After finding him gone she’d spent a solid week calling hospitals throughout the entire state to make sure he and his mother hadn’t been involved in an accident. The desperation had run so deep, she’d contacted the police and filed a missing person’s report, all to no avail.

  Finding no leads, she’d given up. She’d confined herself to her room for almost an entire month. That was when her writing had truly begun. Hannah had used it as a way to express her worries and frustrations. And now the reason behind that was sitting here next to her.

  She had dreamed of this moment forever. First she was going to give him a tongue-lashing beyond anything he could imagine. Then she would grill him for hours in a tiny room under a hot light as to why he’d left her without even a goodbye. But now, now that he was actually here, none of those questions seemed to matter, and she didn’t know whether to throttle him or kiss him.

  She moved a strand of hair from her face. Abandoning all thoughts of censure, she asked, “Do you have any food?”

  Relief washed over his face. “Yes. Let me help you back to the jeep.”

  As he walked, she noticed something odd. It reminded her of something, but in her current state she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Never being very diplomatic in speech and lacking the energy to start now, she blurted, “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  Rory’s body tensed but he didn’t answer. His hand shot forward, she grasped it, and he pulled her. She stood within inches of him, her nose close to his chest. If it was possible, he looked even more buff than he had eight years ago.

  “I didn’t hurt your leg, did I?”

  No answer forthcoming, he twisted around and limped to the jeep, leaving her staring at his back. What was wrong with him? One minute he wants to talk, the next he wants to ignore her? Well, she had news for him. She’d been holed up in a cell, keeping her mouth shut, except to yell at the soldiers, and now she was ready to speak.

  She stalked toward him with her hands on her hips. “Rory Chance, answer me. Why are you limping? You’re such a baby. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

  He kept moving, not stopping until he reached the jeep. When he did stop, it wasn’t to answer her questions. He opened the chest, pulled out cold food items, and placed them on the bumper.

  “We’ll shelter here for the night. The sun will go down soon. We need to be careful about building a fire because of traffickers passing by. Be ready, and we will leave here at 0600 hours. That should keep us travelin
g in daylight.” Rory never looked at her as he spoke in the stilted tone. He laid a blanket out a few feet away and placed the food there.

  Hannah watched in restrained shock. He avoided my question and somehow started talking in militarese. What is up with him?

  Hannah shrugged. “If that’s what you think, then that’s what we’ll do. But when daylight comes, I’m going back to the camp.”

  She turned her back on him and rifled through the food chest on her own. Roughly, he grabbed her arm and twirled her around.

  His brow furrowed. “Are you crazy? You’re never going back there again.”

  “Yes, I am,” she replied, twisting free of his grip.

  “No, you’re not,” came his terse response.

  Hannah could sense his fury, but she wasn’t backing down. Melanie needed her. “Rory, you couldn’t possibly understand…”

  Before she could speak another word, Rory grabbed her, pulled her close, and crushed his lips to hers. His hands cradled her head as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back, and they both worked to catch their breath. Their foreheads touched. Hannah struggled through the kiss to retain her earlier thoughts. Now that she could breathe, she finished her words.

  “I can’t leave a man behind.”

  He scooted way from her so suddenly she almost fell. Limping away, he left her to stare at his retreating form.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rory retreated to a nearby copse of bushes to review his strategy. Clearly, Hannah had no intentions of leaving Melanie behind.

  Tapiwa had shown him at least fifteen young white girls before he’d spotted Hannah. Unfortunately, he couldn’t save them all. He was only one man. To save all of the hostages, he would need an army. And even then, it might not work.

  Without governments reviewing their laws and cracking down on illegal human trafficking, half the people in the camp would be recaptured and sold into slavery, or worse. There was always someone willing to pick up the slack. If not Tapiwa today then it would be someone else tomorrow. He was just one cog in the mechanism. Biashara Githinji probably had dozens of camps just like this one, all doing the same thing.

  Hannah’s concern over Melanie and her refusal to leave a man behind brought back memories. Sighing deeply over what he was about to do, he walked to the jeep and settled behind the wheel.

  She had avoided the blanket and instead taken a seat in the passenger side of the jeep. The sound of her chewing reached his ears.

  She said, “This isn’t right.”

  He raised a brow.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone think it would make more sense to put the wheel of a vehicle on the right-hand side and then top it off by making you drive on the left-hand side of the road?”

  A laugh escaped him. “Some things never change.”

  She faced him. “And what does that mean?”

  A grin spread across his face as he leaned against the door. “Nothing. I’m just glad to see you’re the same, still questioning everything.”

  She shrugged. “Humph. I haven’t even begun to question.”

  He sensed that once she started, the words wouldn’t be directed at the idiosyncrasies of driving habits in different countries, but rather toward him.

  To head her off he said, “Hannah, we need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do. But not now. I’m going to finish this sandwich, which is great, by the way. I can’t believe you still remember what I like after all this time.”

  “I never forgot anything about you,” he mumbled.

  She gulped but didn’t comment. Instead, she said, “After lunch I have plans to make. They didn’t exactly give me free reign to roam the compound, so I’m not sure what I’m up against. All I know is I have to rescue Melanie. Who knows what they have planned for her and the children.”

  He could have argued with her. He could have bonked her over the head and dragged her away, kicking and screaming, but he knew no matter what he did, she would still come back. She would return to free her friend. So he did the only thing he could do. “Tell me about her.”

  Hannah’s grin expressed deep feelings. “Melanie, well, she’s one of my best friends in the whole world, and she has been for the last eight years.”

  The timing meant she must have met Melanie soon after his departure. He refrained from stating this fact as he listened.

  “She was there not long after you disappeared. Following your departure, my stepfather was transferred to another town. Melanie was my new neighbor and my new best friend. Her grandmother lived beside us. I didn’t know it, but Melanie was filthy sticking rich. We stayed friends through college and beyond. When she married, she and her husband became missionaries in Africa.

  “Korzan, Melanie’s husband, sent me a letter and a ticket to come for a visit. He said Melanie suffered from extreme homesickness. I was stuck in a rut myself, so I hopped on a plane to surprise them. Only I was the one surprised. I arrived to find Korzan missing. I only had a few hours with Melanie before Tapiwa and his men showed up.”

  She fiddled with her tattered shirt and studied her sandwich.

  “While we rode to the compound, Melanie explained the last couple of years. She’s been living alone and in fear. Tapiwa threatened that if she told about Korzan, then she and the children would be next. When I showed up, Tapiwa believed she’d told. And that was that. His men took me, Melanie, and the children she cares for.” She faced him with a desperate look upon her face. “Don’t you see, I have to help her! This is all my fault.”

  Her voice pleaded. Why had Rory ever agreed to this fool’s errand? Why had he told the father he would help with this rescue? It would have been better to leave Hannah where she was. Then he would never have known it was her. He could have continued in ignorance. But now a much greater hurt had been opened up. He’d made it possible for her to get herself killed.

  As her lips moved, he focused on the flutter of her graceful hands. He couldn’t deny the reason these possible events bothered him. In his heart of hearts he knew why he’d gone after her, even if he’d never voiced it. He still had feelings for Hannah.

  The vinyl creaked and the car seat groaned as Hannah shifted closer. “Rory, can you help me? You don’t have to go back into the compound if you don’t want to. If you’ll just share your knowledge of the place. I need an edge. Something, anything.”

  Rory stared back. Angry words formed. “Do you honestly believe I would allow you to go back into that place alone? In fact, maybe it would work better if you stay behind, and I go in and get them out.”

  Hannah tapped her finger on her thigh. “Not that I really want to do this, and I do hesitate to mention it, but can’t we just buy Melanie and the kids back? That was how you got me out, right?”

  “Yes,” he said, hesitantly.

  She ignored his answer and kept talking. “I have a little bit of money saved. Maybe it would be enough.”

  Hannah looked so vulnerable. Dirt-streaked hair matted and clung to her face; large round eyes stared at him. Unable to control himself, he lifted her over the gearshift and onto his lap. Instead of struggling, she buried her head into the side of his neck, and his collar dampened with tears.

  Sobbing uncontrollably, she stuttered, “What will they do to them?”

  He answered truthfully. “I don’t know.”

  Extracting herself from his embrace, she jumped to the ground and paced. Her finger placed under her chin, she struck a pose that reminded him of “The Thinker”.

  “Let’s review what we know. First of all, you purchased me, correct?”

  “Yes, for 15,000 Rand.”

  Her eyes bulged but she kept talking. “Okay, 15,000 Rand, gotcha. Question, did they show you anyone besides me?”

  “Yes. They were all white, and none of them were named Melanie.”

  “No, of course not. Melanie is African American.”

  “Ah.”

  “So from your experience as a businessman in pursuit of property,
we can deduce that they don’t intend on selling her. At least not to certain people.”

  “Yeah, the ones who say they are looking for white girls.”

  “What?”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her green eyes. “I was there to look for you.”

  “But, I don’t understand. How did you even know I was there?”

  “One of the children escaped and came to the monastery where I was staying. I heard a white woman, fitting your description and named Hannah, was taken. I-I went because I had to make sure.” Sweat beaded upon his brow as he neglected to tell the story exactly right. She didn’t need to know that he almost hadn’t gone. Nor did she need to know that the boy had called him a hero.

  Her eyebrows drew together. “A monastery?”

  Rory sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  “I bet.”

  He waved away her words. “What matters is that it was you. And now you’re free and shouldn’t even consider going anywhere near that place.”

  He gently massaged her upper arms.

  She said, “There are only a few reasons they might have taken her, and I don’t like the thought of any of them. And don’t give me that look. I’m not leaving her there. That is the only option I won’t accept. So either you can help me or I’ll do it alone.”

  Finished, she jerked away, hopped into the back seat of the jeep, and curled into a ball.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hannah fumed. What right did Rory have to show up after all these years and pretend he cared? What was he doing in South Africa? And in a monastery, no less?

  She had so many questions but was too angry to ask them. How dare he buy her like some piece of property and then order her around like he owned her.

  How dare he try to boss her around using his deep British accent.

  A shiver raced down her spine, and her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest. Was it possible she still had feelings for him after all this time? Regardless of what Tonya thought, using Rory as her muse was supposed to work him out of her system, not keep him there.