The Hunter

by Gennita Low

  He looked up at the oddly out-of-place restaurant, with its cheerful welcome banner above its name, “The Last Resort.” Even the name was out of place. Velesta was hardly a resort of any kind, and probably the very last place for any of the girls in this city to want to visit.

  “Popular place,” he noted, as he glanced at the vehicles and mopeds parked outside.

  “Oh yes, I told you, those NATO peacekeepers love this place. The owner’s pretty little ass doesn’t hurt business, either.”

  Hawk thought of Amber Hutchen’s pretty little ass. Funny how he had barely exchanged three lines with the woman, yet he knew how her ass felt smooth and silky under his hand. He wondered how she was, how she had reacted to his surprise when she’d woken up.

  His lips quirked. There were few things that made him smile in this place, but the owner of The Last Resort was one of them. For some reason her appearance and little challenge had brightened an otherwise sobering few months.

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” he said. “So you have done business with her before?”

  “Now and then. She can’t ignore me, you know. I’m the king around here. She’s too old for my taste and has a bit more brains.” Dilaver leaned on his cane, nodding to his bodyguards to follow him. “She’s given me good information sometimes. I told you she sleeps with the CIVPOL chief, so sometimes she passes on to me that there’s a raid coming on such and such a date, and I get to save some trouble and money by warning my kafena supervisors to shut down before the police comes. That’s why I don’t bother her too much.”

  “I see.” Jed was right. The woman couldn’t be entirely trusted, if she used information gathered from a lover like that. Hawk wondered whether there was anyone left in this town who wasn’t corrupt in one form or another.

  Bells jingled as soon as they opened the door, announcing their arrival. The main eating area was half filled, with most of the guests in uniform. Someone had started the jukebox in the corner and a familiar American dance tune was playing.

  “We’re here for lunch,” Dilaver said to the woman standing behind the counter.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but the restaurant is only open for dinners. We only serve American cakes and coffee in the afternoon.”

  “You go to the back and tell Miss Hutchens that Dilaver has brought an American guest here for lunch and he wants to try her specialty.” Dilaver lifted a brow. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

  The woman nodded and hurriedly went through a doorway behind her. Some of the soldiers in the café had already noticed the new arrivals and had started to look at them expectantly. News of Dilaver being back in town was probably making the rounds. The woman reappeared.

  “Miss Hutchens said to take you to the private dining area. Please follow me.”

  Dilaver gave Hawk a triumphant smile as they followed the woman to the back where there was a screened-off area. The bodyguards positioned themselves in front of the screen as they sat down.

  The woman handed them some menus. “She’ll be with you shortly.”

  Dilaver perused the menu. “I hate American food. I’m only doing this for you.”

  Hawk wished he could eat this meal alone. “Much appreciated,” he said.

  “I know you’ve been dying for some hamburger.” Dilaver laughed.

  The man was fixated with dying. “You did say it’s the best in town,” Hawk said.

  “Well, order whatever you like. You can even have the owner if you want her. She’s quite a meal herself.”

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” a voice smoothly interrupted.

  Hawk looked up. Amber Hutchens stood near the screen, dressed casually in a work shirt and jeans. Her sleeves were rolled up, as if she had been busy in the kitchen, and he could see flour stains on the dark material of her jeans. Her eyes narrowed just a little at the sight of him, but otherwise her expression didn’t betray any surprise at the sight of them.

  “Amber, kako ste!”

  “Fine, thank you, Dragan. How was your trip to Asia?”

  Dilaver scowled. “I’m still limping from that fiasco. They don’t know how to do business there and the food’s too damn spicy. And they have shitwater for beer.”

  Amber came closer to the table, a small smile on her lips that never quite reached her eyes. “Didn’t sound like the vacation you said you were going to have, huh?” She took the tray from a waitress who appeared, setting the glasses of water for Dilaver, then Hawk. Her eyes met Hawk’s for the first time. “And is this your new friend?”

  This close, in the light of day, Hawk had time to take in everything about Amber more leisurely. The first thing that caught his attention was her eyes; she had the blackest pupils set against a teal blue. Cat’s eyes. The kind that glowed in the dark. And she was looking at him the way one would, too—as if she were deciding whether to be bored or interested with this particular human being. It made him want to laugh out loud.

  There was the slightest tilt at each corner of her lips, giving her that secretive Mona Lisa smile. Her complexion was as silky smooth as he remembered, with the barest of lipstick. He caught a whiff of her perfume when she leaned over to place the glass next to him. A hint of vanilla and something else. He also noticed she didn’t wear any rings on her small, slender hands, but then she could have taken them off while she worked in the kitchen.

  “He’s as American as you. Can’t you tell?”

  She studied Hawk for a second, then shrugged. “Not really. Does he talk?”

  Dilaver laughed. “He’s a shy boy, is Hawk, aren’t you, my friend?”

  “Very,” Hawk agreed. He returned the same perusal Amber gave him. “Very nice to finally meet you, Miss Hutchens.”

  “Oh? Sounds like you’ve been planning on it.”

  “Yes.” He left it at that. They stared at each other for a full second.

  Dilaver didn’t appear to hear the undercurrent of their conversation as he looked up from the menu. “This is Hawk. He hasn’t eaten a good American meal in months, Amber. That’s why I brought him here.”

  Amber nodded. “What would you like to eat? Since we don’t do lunch, Dragan, you might have to wait a little longer than usual.”

  “That’s all right. Why don’t you join us for the meal?” Dilaver leaned forward, his big hands flat on the table. “I need some information.”

  Amber regarded him for a moment. “Would you like to try our meatloaf? We’re in the middle of getting some prepared for tonight.”

  “Sure, sure, whatever. Don’t forget the beer.”

  “And you, Mr…. Hawk? Anything you particularly miss from the States?”

  “Surprise me,” Hawk said softly. “I’m sure it’ll be something I like.”

  She tilted her head. “What if it isn’t?”

  He smiled. “I have a bet riding on the fact that you will get it just right. Anything you cook up will be fine.”

  Amber blinked and turned to Dilaver. “I take it back. I like him better quiet.”

  Dilaver winked at Hawk and gestured suggestively as Amber walked away. “Ona je lepa devojka. Told you.”

  Hawk looked after at her departing figure. He knew she was listening. “Beautiful all over,” he agreed. He caught the glare of her blue eyes just before she slipped into the back room, and resisted from grinning. Would she?

  Amber stalked into the study. Lily turned from the two-way mirror through which she had been studying Dilaver and Hawk.

  “So, you finally get to talk to him,” she said, smiling. “He’s yummy, isn’t he?”

  He was devastatingly so, especially when he looked at her as if he had seen her naked before, but Amber wasn’t in the mood to sigh about Hawk McMillan’s good looks. He had issued yet another challenge and she couldn’t find a way out of it.

  Llallana followed her through the connecting door that led into the kitchen. “Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “Tina, get the gentleman in the private area their choice of beer,” Amber told one
of her waitresses. She wrote onto the order sheet and clipped it above the cooking area. “Those are the orders, Ona. Prepare the meatloaf.”

  Llallana leaned against the refrigerator. “He’s gotten to you.”

  “That man’s too much into games,” Amber said.

  “Ha! Says the one who started it all!”

  Amber grabbed chunks of hamburger meat from a container and started kneading it fiercely. Lily was right, of course. She started all this. She felt like growling. Ona came over, steadying the piece of order paper to read what she had written before heading off to the pantry.

  “So what are you making him? Such a big man…hmmm…must have a voracious appetite. From what I overheard, he seems to trust your skills.”

  When Amber said nothing, Lily came closer. She bit her lip. Her friend wasn’t stupid; she lived on the edge most of the time and could pick up signals most people didn’t. She knew it would be just a matter of time before Lily found out the source of her irritation. She did, because she heard the familiar chuckle just behind her.

  “Oh my God.” Llallana was trying not to laugh too loudly. “Oh, he’s too much.”

  “Shut up!” Amber made a face, shaping the meat into a thick hamburger. She didn’t stop Lily from snatching the order off the clip above her. “I don’t want to hear about it.”

  “5MW/MTL/PF/18/69…that’s what he wrote!” Llallana leaned weakly against the side counter. “He…ordered…from the menu!” She broke up laughing again. “Oh, I love him. He ordered his next meal. That was the secret code?”

  Amber released a frustrated growl. Last night, Hawk McMillan had somehow gotten to look at the order pad and saw the way her girls wrote down orders from customers. He also seemed to have taken the time to check out her menu, because he was very specific with his instructions. Number 5 from the menu was the house steakburger, with a special sauce. A Number 5 Medium Well/Mayo Tomato Lettuce/Pomme Frittes/Number 18 was Coca-Cola. Of course she had understood the code—she saw variations of the same thing every day for the past four years. She knew what it was the moment she saw what he had written on her thigh. As for the other number…

  “It isn’t that funny,” she muttered, turning on the fryer.

  “I think he’s cool as hell. It’s a great way to get revenge for what you did.” Llallana shook her head. “I think you’ve met your match, sweetie.”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side,” Amber complained. “Just because he’s cute…”

  “Hey, I’m not that shallow. Really, I’m offended.” Llallana handed her a plate. “Here, let me help prepare a meal for Hot Stuff. You have to stop growling like that, Amber, or you’re going to frighten Dilaver away.”

  Amber turned the heat on high. She lowered her voice. “I wonder what he wants today. He didn’t just show up to get a meal for his American friend.”

  “Didn’t he say he wanted some information? I’ll bet you a double steakburger that it has to do with missing trailers of women.”

  Amber nodded. “Well, we already knew he would come to me sooner or later.”

  Llallana watched Amber for a few minutes, moving out of Ona’s way when the latter passed by with the meatloaf. Unless it was very busy, she seldom helped out in the kitchen when she was in town, preferring to stay upstairs in the apartment, enjoying her time alone. Amber didn’t mind. It was her downtime away from all the really dirty work in their venture—moving the girls from town to town, and making sure they were safe. She had gone along with her friend a few times and knew what a toll that was on the spirit.

  “Why did you cook him what he wanted, anyway?” Llallana asked. “You didn’t have to. Could have just given him good old meatloaf.”

  Amber glanced up briefly from preparing the dressing. “Because he said he had a bet riding on it that I’d get his order right.”

  “I heard that, but what does that mean?”

  Amber smiled wryly. She had to give it to the man; he had her cornered. “If I didn’t decode his message, it meant he won the challenge. If I decoded it, it meant I lost.”

  Llallana chuckled, shaking her head. “So he’d get you either way. He’s got you figured out, you know. Knows that you think in terms of challenges. He’s a smart one, Amber. Since he won, I guess you’ll have to work with him.”

  Amber arranged the plates of food on the tray and handed them to Ona to take out to the guests. “He didn’t win,” she declared. “He gave me a choice. I prefer to lose than have him win.”

  “Oh, that makes sense, then. You two ought to make a good team.”

  Amber paused as she wiped her hands. Team. The idea of being partners with Hawk McMillan sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. He would use unorthodox methods. And he would constantly challenge her. Both thoughts excited and troubled her.

  “We’ll see what he wants,” she said noncommitally.

  “My, all these men wanting something from Amber H.” Llallana sighed. “Busy girl.”

  Amber unrolled her sleeves and arranged her shirt. “I have a feeling that things are going to get busier. We have to really get our shit together now that Dilaver is back in town. Not going to be as easy to get his trailers.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. Now you go and entertain them out there while I make a few phone calls. I want to make sure everything is okay.”

  “All right. Hey, Lily? Call Brad and tell him that Dilaver’s here. Maybe he can raid one of his kafenas.”

  Amber watched as Llallana hesitated, knowing that she didn’t want to make that phone call. She also knew her friend wouldn’t say no, not when it had to do with saving more girls. When she nodded, Amber mouthed a silent thank-you before slipping back into the study. She took a deep breath. She could handle Dragan Dilaver. It was the new guy who would be a little harder to manipulate.

  Maybe it was just all these months of thinking about it, but it was the most delicious hamburger Hawk had ever tasted. The mouthwatering smoky smell alone made his taste buds cry out in delight. It was exactly how he dreamed of one—a big fat slab of juicy hamburger, seasoned and charred, the works and squishy with mayonnaise. It dripped out in between the sesame buns as he took hungry bites.

  “I think this is the most animated I’ve seen you yet,” Dilaver observed, highly amused.

  Again, Hawk wished that he could enjoy this particular meal alone. He was surprised at how much he had been looking forward to it. In his job, he’d gotten used to going without, be it food or physical comfort, and it was very rare that he allowed his needs to rise to the surface like this. It wasn’t as if he were starving; he just had been dreaming about hamburgers.

  “Amber! Look at how much my friend’s enjoying your cooking.”

  Hawk looked up to see Amber walking toward them. He quickly wiped his hands and stood up to pull a chair out for her.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Is your meal to your liking?”

  “Exactly how I wanted it,” he replied.

  “He’s been talking about hamburgers,” Dilaver said. “You must have read his mind.”

  Her smile widened slightly and she glanced back at Hawk. “It was incredibly easy.”

  Hawk didn’t say anything at her dig, preferring to finish off his hamburger. She arched her brows at him, refusing to be the first to break off.

  “Aren’t you eating with us?” Dilaver asked.

  She finally looked away. “I’m not very hungry, but I’ll have a beer. What can I do for you today, Dragan?”

  Dragan pointed a spoon at Amber. “You know. Missing trailers. I’m being robbed.”

  Amber took a sip from her mug. “I’ve heard about it, but I’ve also heard that there’s been a lot more highway robberies, so it’s not just you.”

  “What else have you heard?” When Amber darted Hawk a look, Dilaver continued, “Don’t worry about Hawk. He’s one of us. In fact, he might give you some useful information in exchange for some…hot meals.”

  Amber smiled politely as Dilaver lau
ghed at his own joke. Hawk sensed her dislike of the big Slav, even though she masked it well. The woman was intriguing as hell. Could fight like a pro. Fine-looking, that was for sure. And man, could she cook. If he were looking, here was his dream woman.

  “Has that CIVPOL man of yours mentioned anything of use to me?”

  Too damn bad she had a boyfriend. Too bad she couldn’t be trusted.

  7

  Brad poured himself another cup of coffee. Like everything else in Velesta, the reporter was running late. He had expected it; he needed the time to lay out exactly what information to divulge anyway. He needed to be both careful and tactful. This was a dangerous place. He was well aware of the risks of his job, how anything outside red tape could jeopardize his career. The wrong move, and he’d find himself in a worse place than Velesta.

  But he had to do something. Dilaver’s power was multiplying and the more girls he made money from, the more the kingpin could finance his other activities. Drugs and women were just a means to an end—weapons for the different factions in this war-torn country.

  The UN knew this, of course. But their philosophy was horrifyingly simple. Better the devil they knew than some other factions that might mean a really major war on their hands. At least the KLA kept some semblance of order, they argued.

  Order? Brad gulped down the bitterness along with the coffee. Order in chaos. How perfect for Velesta. And meanwhile, thousands of young girls suffered because of behind-the-scenes political wrangling between men with higher ambitions than he.

  From day one, he had taken one look at these girls and knew he had to do something. How could anyone not? They were locked up and used like…animals. He shook off the images of the things he had seen in those kafenas he and his men had raided. The world needed to know.

  But he wouldn’t tell them about some brave people who took it on themselves to do something about this crime. People like Amber Hutchens and Llallana Noretski. That would remain a secret because their lives would be put in danger if Dilaver or any other crime lord knew about them.

  He had no doubt that Dilaver was looking for the culprits robbing his men of their trailers. The man was losing money out his ass, and especially while he was gone for that short period, Llallana and Amber had taken the opportunity to double the raids. Brad had given them all the information he could get his hands on to help them.