by C. R. Hill
He sighed and put his spoon down. He finally met her gaze and something flashed in his blue eyes. Something that sent a shiver down Sierra’s spine that had nothing to do with fever-induced chills.
“It’s a long story. One we don’t have time for now.” He stood. “Eat your soup, then we’ll head to the airport.”
He walked to the bathroom and shut the door. Subject closed. Sierra looked at her soup and forced another spoonful down her throat. It held about as much appeal as kissing Diaz.
But she was going to need her strength, so she spooned it down and swallowed.
~***~
Jake had a black back pack. They’d transferred her stuff, including the info from Diaz’s, into it. She had the feeling Jake thought her incapable of even carrying the weight of her small overnight bag.
He didn’t have to tell her he was worried about going to the airport. He’d have to leave his gun behind when they got there. Things would be easier if Trent could send a helicopter or plane to pick them up, but their mission was totally off the radar. At least for the time being. The last thing they needed was some sensational news story about how the US had operatives stirring up trouble in the Dominican Republic.
When Sierra followed Jake out the front door of the cabin, she almost laughed at the motorcycle sitting there. A far cry from Jake’s Harley. “Are you sure that thing runs?” she asked as she sauntered toward it.
Jake just shook his head and climbed on. “Purrs like a kitten.”
He cranked it. The muffler sounded like it had a hole in it, but the engine seemed to run fine.
Two helmets hung on the back of a seat that really wasn’t designed to ride two people comfortably. He handed one to her and put the other on. She didn’t argue this time. The helmet would make them hard to recognize. Especially her hair.
Sierra threw her leg over the bike and snuggled up close to Jake’s back. One advantage to the small seat.
“Set?” Jake asked over his shoulder.
“Set,” Sierra parroted. They pulled away and she realized the cottage was actually on the beach. “What did you do with the boat last night?” she yelled over the noise of the engine.
“There’s a dock about a quarter mile away. I left it there.”
So, he’d carried her the quarter mile from the dock to the cottage. That thought stirred a strange feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t used to being helpless, nor being taken care of. Her world as a teenager had been dog eat dog, and things hadn’t changed much since she’d reached adulthood.
Dust kicked up around them as they traveled down the sand road running along the beach. They passed other small houses as they went, but no other vehicles.
Jake finally pulled onto the paved road leading into town. He stopped at the first souvenir shop they saw.
“We’ll get you a hat here,” Jake said as he cut the engine and put the kickstand down.
Sierra set her feet on the ground and pulled off her helmet. Her legs felt like rubber when she stood. Luckily, Jake was already heading inside the little shop and didn’t notice her place a hand on the bike seat to steady herself.
After hanging her helmet on the seat, she took a deep breath and followed him inside. She had to shake off this woozy feeling.
An array of trinkets filled the small shop, from sea shells, to water globes, to tee shirts. A rack of hats sat in the middle of the store. Jake was already looking over them.
She walked up beside him and plucked off a black ball cap with Santo Domingo written in red across the front. “This one will do.”
Jake glanced at her and nodded. Since Jake had the bag with their money, she waited for him to pay.
As soon as he handed over the pesos necessary, she stuck the cap in the back pack to put on when they arrived at the airport.
Sierra led the way back to the bike. She and Jake both grabbed their helmets.
“You’re not fooling me, you know,” Jake said as he strapped his helmet in place. “You’re as white as a sheet and look like you’re about to topple over.”
Sierra pulled her own helmet on, without meeting his gaze. “But I haven’t yet, have I?” she asked and straddled the bike.
Jake shook his head and settled in front of her. “You are one stubborn woman,” he muttered.
Sierra wrapped her arms around his hard abdomen as he cranked the bike and took off. She couldn’t deny his words. Stubbornness was what had gotten her through most of her life.
Stubbornness had kept her from being victimized by some of the low lives she’d encountered during her youth. Stubbornness had forced her to study hard and finish high school, so she could join the military. Of course, she preferred to think of it as determination.
And one thing she was determined to do was prove to Jake he didn’t have to worry about her so much and stop Diaz.
Chapter Twelve
Unease tickled the back of Jake’s neck as he and Sierra walked through the airport. Thirty more minutes. That’s all they needed before they were on a flight back to the States.
Sierra walked beside him, her shoulders squared, her steps steady. He wondered how much strength her performance cost. Worry gnawed his gut.
Regardless of what she said, she needed medical attention. She’d been lucky enough the bullet hadn’t done more damage than it had. Without antibiotics an infection could cause as many problems.
Jake laid a hand on Sierra’s arm to halt them at the arrival and departure board, not missing how warm her skin felt. But there was nothing to be done at the moment.
He scanned the lighted screen. “Shit! The flight’s delayed.”
Immediately, he gazed around, noting the other traveler’s moving past them, looking for anything that seemed out of place. His nape still tingled.
“Only another thirty minutes,” Sierra said.
A man standing beside a water fountain directly across from them caught Jake’s eye. He looked like any other tourist, a baggy tee shirt, baggy shorts, straw hat, except for the slight bulge at his side and the way he looked at Sierra.
Her hair was covered, but she had the kind of build that stood out. Tall and athletic, and the angles of her face without any sort of disguise were quite memorable.
Jake wrapped his hand around her upper arm and pointed to the board as if talking to her about the departure times. “There’s a man beside the water fountain. I’m pretty sure he’s one of Diaz’s men.”
Sierra, being the professional she was, didn’t even flinch, nor turn to look at the man. She nodded. “There’s another one to our right. Standing by the men’s restroom. Has on a green flowered shirt. Good bet that bulge at his side isn’t his love handles. Do you think they’ve made me?”
“Good chance. We’re going to turn and walk toward the coffee shop. There’s no way Diaz will let us get on that plane.”
Sierra nodded and they turned.
“Are you going to be all right if we have to make a run?”
“Don’t worry about me, Harding. I’ll keep up.”
Jake glanced at the set of her mouth. His worry for her mixed with admiration. He wasn’t sure her body could back up her claim, but he knew it wouldn’t be because she gave up. Quit wasn’t in her vocabulary.
He kept his hand on her arm as they walked casually toward the small shop. The man beside the water fountain trailed behind them.
“The other guy’s tailing us too,” Sierra said.
It was kind of spooky the way their minds worked in unison. Almost like they’d been partners for years.
“You’re going to buy two cups of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. I’m going to make a quick call on my cell in the back. When we head for the front of the airport, they’ll think we’re just going outside for a smoke.”
“Who are you calling?”
“A friend.”
Sierra nodded. “Okay, so after we head to the front of the airport, then what do you have in mind?”
“We’ll play it by ear.”
She chuc
kled. “And you say I don’t plan.”
“The plan depends on the bad guys.” Jakes steered them into the shop.
Sierra didn’t hesitate, but walked to the counter and ordered two cups of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. Jake moved behind a magazine rack and placed his call. He got voice mail, but he left a quick message and prayed that if the time arose, their help would be waiting. He slipped his phone back into his backpack and pocketed a book of matches, then pulled out some pesos and handed them to the cashier.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Straw Hat walk to the magazine rack across from the shop and concentrate on the array of titles. Green shirt leaned against the wall on the other side. Definitely tails.
With their coffee in hand, they headed toward the front exits. “Have you decided how to handle this yet?” Sierra asked casually as they neared a wall of glass doors.
“With any luck we’ll catch a cab.”
Jake grasped her arm as they pushed out into the bright mid-morning sun. The smell of car exhaust hung in the air from all the idling taxis waiting on a fair.
“Looks like there are plenty…” Sierra began. Out of nowhere a man grabbed Sierra and jerked her away. Her coffee cup hit the pavement.
Someone else rammed into Jake, making him stumble the opposite direction. Damn it. He’d been too focused on the men behind them.
Jake spun, taking down the man who’d shoved him with a jab to the man’s nose. Straw Hat and Green Shirt had rushed out onto the sidewalk. The man who’d accosted Sierra lay on the ground holding his balls.
Straw Hat shoved against her. Sierra grimaced and staggered.
Jake lunged at Green Shirt, who was reaching for his gun. Going down on his hands, Jake kicked out his leg in an arc. His foot connected with Green Shirt’s ankles, sending the man toppling backwards.
That was just enough of a distraction for Straw Hat. Sierra kicked the man in the gut, then landed a blow to his nose with her palm. He went to his knees.
Jake had tuned out the others around them. Now he heard the gasps and yells for someone to call the police. English mixing with Spanish.
He didn’t waste time. Grabbing his pack off the ground, he jumped over Straw Hat, grasped Sierra’s wrist and ran. The commotion had caused many of the cab drivers to move away from their cars to see what was going on. No one wanted to get involved, but they were curious as hell.
Finding an empty cab, the driver’s door standing open, he pushed Sierra and his bag across the front seat and climbed behind the wheel.
The cabbie had even been nice enough to leave the engine running. He heard the cab driver yell and curse as he shifted it into gear and pulled away from the curb. Their attackers were running down the sidewalk.
Sierra, who hadn’t said a word, chuckled. “When you said catch a cab, you meant it.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Sure,” she quipped and turned to look out the back glass. “I’m pretty seriously pissed at Diaz. And looks like we have company.”
Jake wasn’t surprised. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Diaz’s men had commandeered their own cab. Jake could only go so fast until they got away from the airport.
As soon as he pulled out onto the street, he gunned it. A bullet tinged off the trunk.
“Damn it,” Sierra said. “I wish I had a gun. I could take out their tire.”
“We’ll have to rely on good old evasion tactics. And for God’s Sake, stay down.”
“Yes, dear,” she said and sidled a little lower in the seat.
Sierra kept her gaze on the car behind them. That was the only thing keeping her from focusing on her side, which burned like a son of a bitch. She was pretty sure, she’d ripped some stitches. On top of that, her entire body ached as if she had the flu.
Another bullet pinged the side of the car. Sierra flinched involuntarily.
“Put your seat belt on,” Jake snapped and pulled his across his lap. Sierra did as instructed, knowing that things were about to get a whole lot more interesting.
Two more bullets hit the car, one cracking the back windshield. “Hang on,” Jake said as he whipped the cab around in the road.
Tires squealed as two cars slammed on brakes to avoid them. He floored it and they shot down the opposite side, past their pursuers. Diaz’s men copied their maneuver, only not as smoothly. They sideswiped a parked car, tearing off one of the side mirrors.
Jake hung a hard right down the next street. The tires on the right side left the ground a few inches, then bounced onto the pavement.
The jolt didn’t do her body any good, but Sierra kept her teeth clenched together to keep from groaning. Jake didn’t slow, doing at least sixty down the narrow street. A car blew its horn as he took a left right in front of it.
He hung another hard right, then another. Sierra had no idea where they were.
She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t see them.”
Jake nodded, his hands clenched hard around the steering wheel.
He took another turn, this one left and they ended up on a wider two lane road. They were heading away from downtown. “What now?” she asked and removed her seatbelt.
“We find another way home.”
Sierra pulled her shirt up to exam her side.
The words Jake uttered alerted her to the fact he clearly wasn’t concentrating on his driving.
“Hope you still have the first aid kit in your bag,” she said calmly. “Looks like I wrecked your handiwork.”
Jake focused his gaze back to the road. “I knew you weren’t up to traveling.”
Sierra sighed. What the hell else did she have to do to prove to him that she wasn’t some weak, feeble female? She was as tough an agent as him. “You know, I’m getting pretty tired of your entire caveman attitude. What is your problem, Harding? I’ve more than proven myself. And have you forgotten that not that long ago, you could barely walk after getting the shit beat out of you by Diaz and his men?”
Direct hit.
The muscle in his jaw ticked with his annoyance. “It’s not about proving yourself, Sierra.” Jake slowed briefly and turned onto another road. By the looks of things they were heading north toward the mountains. He glanced at her. “It’s about not charging headlong into trouble.”
Sierra frowned. “Is that what you think I do? Charge in without a plan or without the capabilities to pull my missions off?”
Jake let out a breath and shook his head. “Just forget it, Sierra. I don’t want to fight with you right now. Open my bag and get the first aid kit out. There’s some gauze you can use to push against your side to stop the bleeding.”
Sierra looked down at the wound. The bandage that covered it was completely red. She did what he said, but no way was she dropping this conversation. He was going to tell her exactly what he meant. Maybe not right this minute, but she would get the information.
Sierra ripped the bloody gauze from her side and threw it in the floorboard. Using a clean pad, she pressed it to the wound. What she wouldn’t give for a shot of whisky. After the bleeding slowed, she fished out another clean bandage and taped it over the wound.
Jake glanced at her several more times, but he kept quiet. She did too. Where they were going really didn’t matter. She trusted Jake. Unlike him, she believed him capable of doing his job.
~***~
Sierra jerked awake. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Jake cursed beside her. A minute ticked by before her feverish brain could assimilate the situation. Jake had hit the gas, which is what had yanked her back to reality, along with the whup-whup of chopper blades.
She leaned down enough to see out the side window. A black helicopter hovered to their left. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a green suburban behind them.
“How far away from Santo Domingo are we?” Sierra asked and cleared her throat.
“Not far enough apparently.” Jake glanced in the rearview mirror. “Listen, we’re going to have to dump the car.”
/> Sierra looked to her left. A thick stand of trees ran parallel to road. Turning back toward Jake, she encountered serious blue eyes.
“When we stop, we’re going to have to run for it. That forest spans about thirty miles, but when we get to the other side, we’ll be close to Cotui. I know someone there who’ll help us. It’s where I was headed.”
Sierra understood his words perfectly. He didn’t think she could handle it. “I’ll keep up with you, Jake.”
She said the words and uttered a silent prayer she could follow them with actions. She’d run on nothing more than sheer determination before. She could do it now. Failing wasn’t an option.
The suburban rammed them from behind. Jake pressed the gas pedal harder. A bullet ricocheted off the cab’s bumper.
“Jake, if they hit our tire, we’re dead.”
“I know,” he muttered. “I’m going as fast as I can.”
He swerved as another bullet bounced off the trunk. “Hang on!”
Sierra clutched the door handle. Jake jerked the steering wheel, spinning the car in the road a hundred-eighty degrees. Their tires left a cloud of smoke.
Jake floored it and whipped past the suburban.
“You’re pretty good at that move,” Sierra commented.
The big SUV couldn’t turn as fast. It followed, but they had a little breathing room.
“Okay, one more time,” Jake murmured. He slowed just enough to let the bad guys think they might catch him, then whipped the cab around again with a squeal of tires. They shot past the green monster. Jake didn’t slow at all this time. He had the gas pedal to the floor. The maneuver bought them precious distance.
Automatic weapon fire hit the road in front of them, kicking up chunks of asphalt that tinged the car.
“Jeez,” Sierra looked out the window again. She’d almost forgotten about the damn chopper.
Jake swerved to the left, stirring up dust along the shoulder to give them at least a little cover. “Be ready to run.”
“I’m ready.”
More bullets rained down, hitting the hood. Sierra’s side mirror took a hit. Jake swerved several more times. He jerked the wheel hard and they shot off the road, bouncing over the rough terrain. Sierra unbuckled her seat belt as Jake slammed on brakes beneath the cover of trees.
