Tempted Into Danger

by Melissa Cutler

  A look of dawning horror crossed Vanessa’s face. She stood frozen, so Diego opened his arms and ushered her into the cover of a thick cluster of trees.

  “You needed medical attention,” Vanessa said. “I had to get help.”

  He tucked her up near the tree with the thickest density of leaves and branches. “I know. You didn’t do anything wrong. The helicopters are sweeping the river. If we stay out of sight, they should pass right by us. That river’s more than a hundred miles long.”

  She muttered something Diego didn’t have the time or mental space to process. All he could focus on was the sound of two choppers headed their way.

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and shook it. “The emergency tarp.”

  “What emergency tarp?”

  “From the first aid kit. I strung it out on the river bank so the helicopter could find us.”

  The bottom dropped out of Diego’s stomach. He felt his pulse in his ears and head, in his injured arm. The sound blended with the roar of the approaching helicopters.

  And then clarity struck, as it always did when his adrenaline levels peaked. The noise stopped. His vision tunneled. His body and mind aligned exactly as he’d conditioned himself to react to imminent mortal danger. “Get moving. Path of least resistance. We don’t have time to hack at the vines. All we need to do is run.”

  He pushed her ahead of him, but it was too late.

  The gunfire started. It tore up the trees around them, spitting leaves and splinters and bullets like a tornado had touched down.

  Diego snagged Vanessa around the ribs and tossed her to the ground, threw himself over her and crawled them both to a fallen tree. He wedged her up against it and wrapped his body around her, his head tucked close to hers.

  The gunfire stopped as abruptly as it’d started. But that didn’t mean they were safe. He’d captained this sort of attack himself. After the gunfire came one of two things—explosives or ground troops. Either way, they needed to get the hell out of there.

  “We’re going to run, and we’re going to do it faster than you ever have before. You’re taking lead. Keep to the underbrush. Do not shortcut through any clearings in the canopy.” He pushed a gun into the waistband of her pants, then transferred the phones to her pocket. “If I tell you to go on without me, you do it, damn it. You run until there’s no daylight left. And then you call my crew. Understand?”

  “I’m not going on without you if you get hurt.”

  “Yes, you will, if it comes to that. Don’t make me fail at my job by doing something stupid like going against my command.”

  She drew an unsteady breath and nodded.

  He bussed her lips with a kiss. “Here we go.”

  She ducked out the back side of the log and sprinted, crashing through the underbrush. Diego kept pace behind her, his ears tuned to the sound of the chopper. He kept one eye looking over his shoulder, waiting for round two of the ambush that was going to start any second.

  Chapter 12

  Ground troops it was. Over the continuing roar of the helicopters, he sensed men moving through the trees in pursuit, their gunfire blending with the noise of the helicopters’ machine guns.

  Now that it was clear they weren’t in imminent danger of being bombed, rather than continuing to flee, which they had neither the resources nor energy to do efficiently or indefinitely, he needed a new plan. A plan that would equalize the power differential, being that there was only one of him and God only knew how many of his enemies or what weapons they carried.

  He snagged Vanessa’s arm and gestured for her to stop. They watched through a break in the canopy as the helicopters changed course, splitting up to circle over the jungle east of the river in different directions, covering a lot of ground. Neither had flown directly over them yet.

  The sound of approaching ground troops grew louder.

  He motioned north, toward a steep, rocky section of forest where plants with huge, green fronds grew seemingly from the rocks. This time, he ran point, picking a trail over the loamiest patches of soil to absorb the noise of their movement and obscure their footprints. A small alcove of rock and plants proved an ideal place to hide.

  The crashing of troops through the foliage meant they’d burst into view any second. He urged Vanessa in, then crouched in front of her and wrenched a plant out by the roots for camouflage, easy enough to do given the loose, wet soil. He set the plant in front of him and threaded his rifle through the leaves.

  As a final effort to camouflage himself, he smeared dirt over his cheeks and nose, turning himself as brown as the land surrounding him.

  “Head down, Vanessa. Stay as still as you can,” he said under his breath.

  Not two minutes later, three men dressed in green camouflage and black ski masks prowled along the trail. One of the men pointed to the rocks near where they were hidden. He followed their stares to a scuff of dirt on the rocks that must’ve come off one of their shoes. The soldier got on a radio and reported the coordinates.

  That gave Diego only one choice.

  He squeezed the trigger and fired a succession of shots, felling all three men.

  Pulling Vanessa’s arm, he stood. “Gotta run again. They’ll be coming for us fast now.”

  Sure enough, the roar of the helicopters grew louder.

  Vanessa ran point, leaping over rotting tree trunks and dodging plants. Diego kept his focus jumping all around them. He didn’t hear any other troops, just the choppers. Not a good sign.

  He had a bad feeling about what was coming next.

  “Faster, Vanessa.”

  “I can’t go any faster.”

  Up ahead, he spied a dark, black gash in a wall of soil. A cave.

  It was in the middle of an exposed cliff face, but if his instincts were right about what was going to happen, the cave was their best bet to stay alive.

  “In there,” he barked.

  She twisted her head to see where he was pointing, but the next second, she was airborne, knocked off her feet as an explosion ripped through the jungle.

  Diego fell forward, calling her name and eating the ground where he hit down. He spit the dirt out of his mouth and crawled on his belly to her. She was disoriented, so he stood and hauled her up, dragging her to the cave.

  The entrance had partially collapsed and bats were streaming out by the hundreds, but he shoved her on the ground just inside.

  Whirling around, rifle at the ready, he assessed their immediate danger.

  The jungle was on fire, despite the lingering rain showers. Trees lay like fallen soldiers in a circle around the blast point.

  The helicopters, green AW139s, were exactly the same look and model as the one that had trailed his helicopter. Could be the Panama army, or could be look-alikes, but whoever it was, they wanted Vanessa and Diego dead bad enough to destroy the protected land of Panama’s indigenous people and risk inciting an international incident or starting a civil war between the Nobu and the government.

  The only weapons Diego was carrying that were powerful enough to take down the helicopters were grenades. He loaded one into his rifle-mounted launcher and swung himself into view to get a clear shot.

  “Diego?”

  Vanessa sounded scared.

  “Quiet a sec.”

  The helicopters spotted him and adjusted their course. He moved his finger to the trigger.

  “You don’t understand,” Vanessa said, tugging his elbow. “We’re about to be surrounded.”

  He raised his eyes from his sights and saw the troops, coming through the felled trees and jungle shrubs, close enough to tear them apart with ammo or a single, well-placed grenade.

  He swung his rifle at them. “Get ready to move,” he told her.

  “Where?”

  Her question
smacked him into awareness like a slap. He glanced side to side, his thoughts turning black.

  Damn it. She was right. There was nowhere to run. A ravine to the north, enemy troops to the south and west, and behind them the hill continued into the sky. Up there they’d be a perfect target for the helicopters.

  He launched the grenade into the center of the troops and watched them scatter, moving fast to reload so he could strike the approaching helicopters before they were in range to fire their machine guns.

  He muscled Vanessa back into the cave and took aim at the closest helicopter.

  Then he held his breath and fired. He had to keep fighting. He had no choice, even though part of him already understood that this cave and this jungle was where it was all going to end. For both of them.

  * * *

  Diego could’ve rappelled down the ravine in a flash. Or he probably could’ve pulled a Batman and launched a grappling hook across it to use as a zip line to escape, but Vanessa could do neither.

  Out of options, out of time, this was it.

  She flattened her body against the earthy wall of the cave. “We’re trapped.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “This is my fault,” she breathed.

  He pulled the trigger and a loud crack sounded. His eyes narrowed as he followed the direction of the shot. An explosion, far smaller than the last one, roared nearby.

  “Not your fault.”

  Gunfire made her ears ache as bullets sent dirt flying on the cliff face way too close to Diego and the cave.

  He returned fire.

  Over the sound, she shouted, “You could make it out of here by yourself. I wouldn’t blame you for it.”

  He ignored her. In fact, he probably hated that she’d said that. She hated it, too. She didn’t want him to leave her and felt like the worst human being in the world for preferring him to die with her instead of saving himself. Guilt and fear churned in her stomach. She swallowed, fighting the rising bile in her throat. Then she gave it one more halfhearted shot to get him to leave her.

  “You have to run,” she pleaded, setting her palms and face against his back. “Or you’re going to die.”

  And she hated herself anew for praying he didn’t listen to her.

  He pulled a grenade from his belt. From what she could see, it was his last. “I know. So let’s see how many hostiles I can take with me into hell.”

  Chapter 13

  Diego was going to die for her.

  No, not for her, but for the life and career he’d chosen. He was going to die for his principles, exactly as he’d told her he would. How had she ever doubted him?

  Yet maybe the real question was what was she going to die for?

  It was too much, that question. Evoked a panic in her that she’d never had the chance to stand for something, to live by principles as Diego did.

  She tipped her face around the corner to look over his shoulder.

  Only one helicopter was in sight. From the opening on the passenger side of the remaining helicopter, a machine gun aimed in their direction. In front of her, Diego sprayed gunfire at the trees.

  The ground troops shot back. Diego ducked into the cave and snapped a fresh magazine onto his rifle, his face etched with steely purpose. He didn’t once look her way.

  Suddenly, nothing seemed as important as atoning for her mistake. “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you.”

  “Forget about that.”

  He pivoted into shooting position and took aim at the helicopter. Vanessa reached for the gun he’d tucked in her waistband. She’d only ever shot hunting rifles, years ago, and had never hit anything but trees. The same would probably prove true today, but she refused to stand there idly and watch Diego give his last breaths in defense of her without doing something.

  She didn’t think he’d noticed that she’d taken it out until he said, “Rest your arm on my shoulder to help your aim.”

  With an unsure grip, she stood on a rock behind him and propped her forearms on his shoulder, stretching the gun out in front of her. Then she aimed at one of the men wearing a ski mask and squeezed the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  “Safety,” Diego called over his shoulder.

  “What?”

  He reached over the gun and flipped a small switch on the far side.

  Ah.

  The helicopter inched nearer, its machine gun pivoting to correct its aim at them. Diego fired a volley of shots at it and it swerved out of range once more.

  Vanessa resumed her aim over his shoulder, but shadows on the rock above the cave caught her attention. Before she could turn to search for the source, a shot rang out from atop the rock face. A line of heads behind a line of rifles appeared along the ridge.

  They were surrounded.

  Gasping, she took aim at the new intruders.

  “Don’t shoot,” Diego said.

  Her gun arm dipped. “What?”

  He pulled her into the cave. “I know those rifles. I gave them to the Nobu.” She searched his face. His expression was still serious, but lighter. He swapped out his rifle’s magazine again and met her gaze. “Took them long enough.”

  He swung back into firing position and continued his assault.

  Eyes wide, she risked a glance up the hill. Dark complexions, dark hair and shirtless, the men on the ridge certainly had the look of Panama’s indigenous people.

  A whooping war cry made her flinch. Then the Nobu started shooting.

  In the jungle, men fell at a fast rate. More Nobu warriors appeared along the ravine, herding the enemy front and center, lining them up for the warriors on the ridge to cut them down. It was a bloodbath. Vanessa burrowed her face into Diego’s shirt, the images of death and violence too stomach-turning to watch.

  Diego continued to fire. She felt the power of the rifle through his back, as hope for their survival washed through her for the first time since the buzz of the helicopters first broke the peace of the jungle.

  At the sound of movement behind her, she raised her eyes. The Nobu warriors descended the hill, continuing to fire into the trees. But from what Vanessa could tell, no one was returning their fire anymore. Still, the warriors poured into the jungle, amid the smoldering trees and smoke.

  Diego stopped shooting but kept his rifle poised to fire as the helicopter rotated south. It paused midturn and the pilot sneered at them through two curtains of chin-length brown hair.

  “Nico Chiara,” Diego growled.

  He looked down the sights of his rifle, but before he could get a shot off, the chopper lifted and flew away.

  The Nobu trickled out of the forest in twos and threes, relaxed in a way that told her they’d slaughtered every intruder and the danger had passed.

  She wrapped her arms around Diego’s ribs and took a deep breath, letting her cheek rest between his shoulder blades.

  He stroked her arm. “I let you down.”

  He sounded so tormented, she tightened her hug. “You don’t look dead to me,” she said, echoing his words from the day before.

  His only response was a derisive huff.

  She walked around to face him and stretched her arms out wide, attempting to look as tough and confident as he had while the bag of her work clothes burned in the street. “The fact that you’re standing in the middle of this God-forsaken jungle with me means you have a perfect record when it comes to protecting people.”

  He shifted his gaze to her, looking unconvinced.

  She swept a smear of dirt from his cheek. “You were the one who provided the Nobu with guns and built your Leroy in their jungle as an added layer of protection. What happened just now, it was part of a plan you spent years designing—and it worked. You kept saying one of these days I’d figure out that you knew wh
at you were doing.” She nodded. “Consider me schooled in the matter.”

  His features softened. His shoulders eased down. “Let’s go thank the Nobu.”

  * * *

  The Nobu spoke their own language, defiantly refusing to add a single word of Spanish to their lexicon, but as best he could given the language barrier, Diego offered the Nobu warriors his gratitude for coming to their aid. Smiling, he bowed and gestured his thanks. Shirtless and barefoot and dressed in ill-fitting cotton slacks of various colors, the warriors returned his smile and petted their weapons, a gesture Diego interpreted as “Just returning the favor.”

  While Vanessa looked on, he sought out the leader and offered him the gun from his ankle holster along with a spare magazine.

  The warrior, dressed as his soldiers were but with swipes of blue paint on his cheeks and arms, accepted the gift and launched into emphatic chatter. He gestured northeast in the direction of the river, then to Diego’s snake-bitten arm. He’d forgotten about that injury. It looked puffy and, now that he was thinking about it, hurt like hell. He let his rifle hang loosely by its strap and shook out his arm, trying to loosen the tight, swollen flesh.

  It soon became clear that the leader and his men wanted Diego and Vanessa to join them. If it had only been him, Diego wouldn’t have gone because his presence made their people a target for the Chiaras. But the opportunity to have Vanessa guarded by a village of armed warriors was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  They trod a well-worn path to the river, buffered on all sides by the Nobu.

  Diego slung his left arm around Vanessa’s shoulders and tugged her close to his side as they walked, establishing his claim on her. Maybe that was a sexist way to think, but most of the world still worked that way, especially pockets of people as far removed from the influence of first-world modernism as the Nobu were.

  Diego hadn’t spent much time around the tribe’s village, so he didn’t have an accurate picture of their culture’s treatment of women, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Luckily, it was a universal truth that soldiers didn’t mess with another soldier’s woman. And though the Nobu probably already figured it out, it was critical that they understood in no uncertain terms that she was off-limits to them in every way.