The Hunter

by Gennita Low

  Hawk stared at the high ceiling, tracing the beams crisscrossing above him. No reaction. Until a certain woman dropped out from up there and landed on his naked body, that is. Amber Hutchins somehow made him feel alive inside again, made him feel more like himself. He didn’t understand it yet, but he would love to find out what it was about her that made him regain his smile.

  It would be nice to see her later tonight, after going through another session in hell.

  It was half past twelve. Amber had arrived early on purpose. She wanted to scope out the kafena herself. She had never really been inside one while it was conducting business, had never wished to see the things that went under the boxlike flat roofs. The girls she and Lily had saved talked openly about their experiences and their stories made her shudder.

  Lily wasn’t home yet and Amber had left her a note. She wasn’t worried. Her friend could take care of herself. She smiled at the thought that Brad might have convinced her to stay for dinner, too. He could lay on the charm when he wanted, if Lily gave him half a chance. Those two—she shook her head at the thought of them together—would be interesting to watch, if they ever really managed to talk their problems out.

  She frowned. How ironic. Here she was, in a weird communication game herself. She remembered how it all started, where she had hung a certain message. Ruefully, she rubbed the side of her thigh. His retaliating message was still faintly marking her. And then there were these odd instant-messaging communications. So who was she, to criticize her friend for avoiding talking to a man? The male species was incomprehensibly complicated.

  What was Hawk up to, that he needed her to guide him through the back alleys of Velesta? He had kept their conversation humorous to distract her questions, as if he didn’t want to give out all the information. Wise move. After all, nothing online was secured, no matter how safeguarded the link was.

  There were several dozen vehicles in front of the short block of buildings. Music blared out into the night air as she watched men enter and leave the different entrances. There were three main kafenas here. Which one were Hawk and Dilaver in?

  Amber moved among the shadows, her dark outfit obscuring her from view as she moved closer. She was to meet Hawk in the rear, but she wanted to first satisfy her curiosity. These faces belonged to men who came in and out of her café, some of whom treated her like gentlemen. Yet here they were, participating in the vilest of crimes—debasing and degrading girls of a tender age.

  She was close enough now to hear the lewd comments and loud laughter coming out of the buildings. The weather had warmed up enough to bring the “party” outside, and the windows were opened to let in fresh air. Climbing up the thick ivy grown to one side of the wall, she found she had a good view without anyone looking up at her. They were too busy enjoying themselves. Evidently, they were very sure there wouldn’t be any raids tonight. Even so, she had to be doubly careful. It wouldn’t be good to be caught.

  Some of the entertainment had spilled out into the small courtyard in front of one of the entrances. A group of men surrounded what looked like a picnic table, a line forming all the way back through the door. Craning her neck, Amber could make out the white paint reflecting in the light…and someone writhing on top.

  It was the naked form of a woman, with her hands and legs spread out and held down by the surrounding men. She was struggling as one of them stood between her open legs and dropped his pants. Amber watched with horror, gripping the vine in her hand tightly, as the man’s naked buttocks started pumping. The girl’s muffled screams cut through the air, making the hair at the back of Amber’s neck stand up. He finished with a loud grunt, and before he had moved away, the next man in line was already between the girl’s legs, positioning himself.

  Dear Lord. This was…a gang rape. A victim had told Amber about this, that sometimes it was a free-for-all night for an unlucky new girl, chosen out of a bunch, so she could be initiated into her new job. Usually it was a girl who had been crazy enough to insult her new owners. This was her beginning punishment. Any customer could have her for free that whole night, any way he wanted. The victim who related the incident to Amber had spat at the memory. It was, she had snarled out, the most looked-forward to event by all the men.

  Amber was unable to turn away from the horrific spectacle. Her mind screamed at the sight, ordering her to do something, but her whole body was frozen, shut down from shock. She watched as the girl was raped again and again, her gagged screams turning into high-pitched whimpers that were totally ignored by the monsters who shuffled up the line as if they were in a fast-food restaurant. The cries cut Amber to the soul. No one lifted a finger to help.

  A raging fury rose like an inferno inside. She suddenly realized that she was aiming her semiautomatic at the crowd below. She had pulled it out without thinking, and her target was the current rapist. Her forefinger rested on the trigger. She had to do something. Take one out. Stop it. Tears ran down her face, blurring her vision.

  “Don’t do it.”

  The words were spoken softly from below her. The voice was flat, deadly. Amber didn’t look down; her eyes were trained on another man in that courtyard, who was flipping the girl over. She was no longer struggling.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t take out that bastard.” She could hear the tightness in her own voice.

  “You don’t have enough shots to kill them all and they’ll find you. Come down, Amber.”

  “No.” She couldn’t leave without doing something. “I…can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Climb down now.” She didn’t move or reply. “If you have to shoot, take out the girl. But there are always more inside. If you take out the men, the owners will just move their kafenas to another location, with better security. And you’ll probably be caught. That one weapon you have isn’t enough for this battle.”

  She slowly lowered her weapon, then turned to stare icily into the darkness below. She couldn’t see anyone down there in the shadows. Putting away her weapon, she climbed down the wall in silence, forcing herself to concentrate on her hands and feet.

  The moment she dropped onto the ground, a hand grasped hers and pulled her into a brisk jog before she could say anything. She was forced to keep up with his longer strides, trusting his eyes in the darkness, as she couldn’t stop to see where they were going. They finally turned the corner and he slowed down. It took her a minute to catch her breath from the sudden exertion.

  “That’s why you wanted me to stay in the back of the building, isn’t it?” She glared up at him, the outline of his face and body barely discernible.

  “Yes,” Hawk answered.

  “You were in there,” she accused.

  “Yes.”

  He stood like some big statue as she stared at him. “You saw what happened and…”

  He was a covert operative and very likely had to participate. Disgust snaked through her and she was about to back away when he reached out and grabbed her hand. She kicked out at him, wanting to get away.

  They fought in silence. He wouldn’t let go of her hand as he countered every one of her moves, pushing her back and moving closer until his body trapped hers against the brick wall of the building.

  “Damn it, Hawk, let me go.” She had seen enough tonight. “I don’t want to see you or talk to you right now.”

  “You’ll show me the back alleys like you’re supposed to.”

  She stiffened at the coldness in his voice. “You can’t order me around,” she said, just as icily. “And I don’t work with rapists and cowards. Couldn’t you have done something?”

  “It isn’t time.”

  “You mean you can’t blow your cover,” she said bitterly.

  “Yes.” A finger tilted her chin up. His warm breath brushed her face. The back of his hand touched her cheek, softly wiping away the remaining wetness from her tears. “I know what you think of me right now. I can’t do anything about that. But I want to be clear that I don’t rape women and children, and i
f I could do anything without jeopardizing my mission, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t. A lot of people depend on the success of my mission. Jed told me you’re the best in the tracking business and I need you to help me. Are you in or out?”

  “What’s in it for me?” she asked. “Money isn’t everything.”

  “Jed told me to make you an offer you can’t refuse. I’ve been thinking about it and was going to ask you tonight, but it doesn’t matter now. I have an offer.” He leaned down until his lips almost touched hers. “I’ll destroy Dilaver for you, Amber. At the end of this mission. I’ll come back and destroy him.”

  “Kill him?”

  “No. I’ve strict orders not to do that for now. But I’ve traveled with him and know all his strongholds. There are ways to get a man like that. Will you trust me?”

  Amber didn’t—couldn’t—trust any man right now, not after what she had seen. She couldn’t fathom any decent human being witnessing anything like that and not doing a thing about it. Her own experience had been secondary; she had never seen the crimes, just the victims. This made it even more personal.

  “I don’t know. I can’t feel a damn thing right now except murderous.”

  “It’ll stay with you,” Hawk told her. “It’ll be there tomorrow, and the day after.”

  She shuddered at the knowledge in his voice. She jerked her face from his finger. “I’m going to kill Dilaver myself. I am not under orders.”

  “There you go. The woman of my dreams.”

  The statement was so ludicrous it made her stare at him for a moment. “That’s ridiculous,” she finally said.

  “Not at all. I’ve always dreamed about a woman who would do everything for me, including kill a man I can’t.” Her mouth gaped in astonishment even as he dipped his head. Still reeling from his words, she barely registered his quick, hard kiss. “There, now that we’ve sealed the bargain, let’s look at those alleys.”

  “What…have we agreed on?” Amber felt as if she were on a runaway train.

  It might be dark, but the humor was back in his voice. “That you’re the woman of my dreams, remember? And that I’ll help you in any way I can. Come on.”

  She had gone through so many different emotions in the last hour, she didn’t know what to say to that. His footing was sure, as if he were used to walking in unknown dark places. She was supposed to be leading, but he seemed to know where he was going at the moment. So she just let him pull her along, deeper into the shadows.

  9

  Amber was surprised at how well she and Hawk worked together. He was a natural tracker, moving through the darkness like a thief, able to slip in and out of the shadows like a ghost. No wonder she hadn’t seen him when he was in her office the other night.

  Hawk McMillan was more than an operative. She could tell. She had worked with different CIA-trained operatives before. A mediocre one would be noisy, hesitant in the strange darkness. A good one would still betray certain unease by pausing here and there. Hawk just followed her, his attention focused on the pathways she chose, and at certain points he would touch and explore a wall here or a landmark there, as if familiarizing himself with their texture. It was fascinating watching him at work, as he morphed from the man with the mocking voice, playing those games with her, into a very serious operative.

  He asked a few questions—very good ones, in her book. Amber did her best to try to fill him in about the height and thickness of certain walls, the thickness of the ropes she used to scale them, the names of kafenas nearby, the cubby-holes that she might use to hide anything of value. The last question alone told her he wasn’t an ordinary operative in need of a guide. The man had either stolen things before or had done a lot of tracking in places where he needed to hide things.

  The most important thing was that he was keeping her mind busy, distracting her from thinking about it. He was remote, almost authoritative in his questions, as if he, too, had things on his mind. For once, she didn’t object to the high-handed attitude.

  “Tired?”

  Amber shook her head. She felt blessedly numb. She wasn’t tired at all, even though they had spent the better part of three hours tracking around the back alleys of Velesta. She had the routes memorized, since she used them often to move the escaped girls to her own hiding places, among other things. When Hawk had asked how she became so familiar with these paths, she had hedged on the truth, telling him that she met shady characters to negotiate all the time. He seemed to accept the answer.

  “We’re done for the night,” Hawk continued. “I’ll take you home now.”

  “This is my city, you know. I can get back by myself.”

  “I know that, but it’ll be a good test whether I can take you back through these alleys without your help, right?”

  She looked at him disbelievingly. “You couldn’t have memorized all the routes with a quickie tour and some of the rough maps I drew up.”

  “Try me.”

  “And if you lose?”

  “I won’t.”

  He sounded so arrogant, she was tempted to just disappear down one of the alleys and leave him there. If he was so damn good, he could find his way back to…She bit down on her lower lip as horrifying images immediately popped up.

  “Don’t go there,” he said, reading her mind.

  She swerved around to face him. “How can you not be affected by it? Going in and out of those places.” She jabbed his chest with a finger. It felt hard as rock through his shirt. “How can you be with Dilaver and not want to kill him?”

  “It isn’t what I was sent to do.”

  She hated simple answers. “That’s it?” She didn’t back away as he came a few steps closer. She had always been on the short side and big guys didn’t particularly frighten her; if he was thinking of intimidating her with his size, he was in for a surprise. “That’s not an answer. These are little girls suffering at the hands of men, Hawk. You can’t just dismiss them by saying that you weren’t sent to help them, so there’s nothing you can do.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said patiently, as if he were talking to a child. “I said, that isn’t—”

  “I heard you the first time,” she interrupted, letting her earlier fury seep back in. The numbness was disappearing fast. “If you can stand there and watch…that…you’re heartless and cruel. Even if you don’t take part in it, you’re just as guilty, just like they—”

  Hawk moved so fast, she hadn’t even had time to take a breath before she found her back against a wall. His big hands were on her shoulders, firmly holding her in place. She supposed she could maim him with a knee, but for some reason she checked her anger at being manhandled by him again. Instead she stared up into his face defiantly, even though she couldn’t see his expression.

  He was silent for a few seconds, then his hands gentled. He took a step back. “I’m not like them,” he said, then turned abruptly and walked away. Very quickly. Without looking back.

  Amber stared at Hawk as he disappeared into the shadows. He was leaving her? Oh no, no, no. She was a tracker, and no one left her behind like that.

  She set out in the direction he took. He was already gone, even though he only had a minute’s head start. She started running. There was no way she was going to lose him.

  Lily didn’t know what had gotten into her. She had come here to discuss the interview, yet it was now past midnight and she had stayed for dinner, wine, a video, more wine, and…She surreptitiously studied the man sitting next to her, legs comfortably stretched out as he watched the last few minutes of the movie. His tie was gone, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, his hair slightly mussed up.

  She had always known it. Bradford Sun was a wolf in a bureaucrat’s suit. He had demonstrated it tonight, slowly taking down her defenses one by one. He had first tackled business, surprising her with how prepared he had been, throwing out ideas on what to show the newsman. He had numbers and declassified papers from Amnesty International about the human trafficking busi
ness to use as quotes. He suggested how to deal with each one-on-one interview with the victims. She was privately amazed at how far he was willing to push the envelope, even to reveal that peacekeepers were contributing to the problem, that his department wasn’t doing its job.

  It had been such an interesting conversation, Lily hadn’t noticed the hours going by. He had refilled her glass, and she had enjoyed both the wine and his company as he talked about her other favorite subject, art. She looked at the coffee table. Two bottles of wine. Two margaritas. No wonder she was feeling relaxed.

  “Are you enjoying the movie?” he asked.

  “Yes. I think I should be going.” She was enjoying everything way too much. Usually her radar would be beeping madly by now, warning her of danger, but she hadn’t heard a damn thing tonight.

  “You can’t drive with all that alcohol in you,” he pointed out. “Stay. I have a spare bedroom, if you like.”

  She was tempted to stay, and not to check out his spare bed. There wasn’t any room in her life for Brad, or anyone. She didn’t even like him, anyway. It was just the alcohol. You just keep telling yourself that. She ignored the sarcastic bitch in her head.

  “One would think you purposely plied me with alcohol tonight, Mr. Sun,” she said softly.

  Did his smile widen slightly? There was certainly amusement in his voice. “I think you once accused me of being too straightforward. Now you’re accusing me of being underhanded.”

  “‘Devious’ comes to mind. ‘Underhanded’ isn’t calculating enough.”

  “I purposely chose a fruity wine. Obviously that didn’t sweeten your tart tongue, damn it,” he said mildly.

  That was the second part of the attack, sneaking in that teasing charm over dinner. How could she have missed that? And why did she want to muss up his hair more? She wondered how he would look after hot sex. Oh, bad idea to bring that up now. Because she suddenly had a vision of him on top of her right here on the couch. She bent and picked up her glass, drinking quickly.