Cindy Gerard - [Bodyguards 05]

by Under the Wire

  “Which makes me think there must be a lot of other feelings bubbling below the surface.”

  Ethan stopped abruptly. He frowned down at her. “This is not a matchmaking mission, love.”

  She nodded solemnly. “I know. It’s deadly serious business. I’m just saying—”

  He touched a hand to her cheek, cutting her off. “I know what you’re saying. And I agree. There’s a lot more going on between those two than meets the eye. But that’s for them to work out, not you.”

  He kissed her forehead, pressed her with a look. “Agreed?”

  Okay. So he was right. “Agreed, my pragmatic romantic.”

  He wrapped an arm over her shoulders as they stepped out into the blinding sunshine and suffocating tropical heat. “When we get back to the States, we’re setting a date. I want you to be my wife again. How’s that for romantic?”

  “A girl couldn’t ask for more.” She wound her arm around his waist, remembering a time, not so long ago, when Ethan and his brothers and Manny had rescued her from a band of terrorists in the jungles of the Philippines.

  Remembering most of all that both she and Ethan had almost died in the process and that she’d been certain they’d never see their families again.

  “Let’s go find that boy,” she said, and together she and Ethan walked across the parking lot toward the rented Suburban.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Okay, this is what we’ve got.” Manny sped down the left side of the road toward the heart of the city of Colombo. He spared a brief glance at Lily. “Correct me if I’m wrong or to fill in the blanks.”

  Manny was behind the wheel, Lily riding shotgun, although she was certain he’d rather have her lashed to the top of the vehicle where he wouldn’t have to see her. Ethan and Darcy sat in the second seat, with Dallas in the rear of the Suburban with their gear, consulting a map and listening. They understood the urgency and the necessity of finding Adam as soon as possible.

  “As I told you on the phone, Adam and the dozen other students are all staying with separate families for the summer through a youth student exchange program.

  “Adam’s host family.” Manny paused and deferred to Lily for help with pronunciation as she handed out copies of Adam’s photo.

  “The Muhandiramalas,” she enunciated for everyone’s benefit.

  “The Muhandiramalas,” Manny repeated, “live in Colombo. Mr. Muhandiramala.” Again he paused and deferred to Lily.

  “Amithnal,” she supplied a first name.

  “Amithnal,” Manny continued, “is a highly influential member of the governing Sinhalese parliament.”

  “Which could make him a prime target of the LTTE,” Ethan surmised.

  Lily glanced at Ethan, as impressed by his knowledge of the political climate as she was sobered by his assumption. She’d thought that the prestige of Amithnal Muhandiramala’s position and the fact that the Muhandiramalas lived in Colombo, well away from the troubled Northern Province, would ensure Adam’s safety. It appeared that she’d been wrong on both counts.

  “LTTE.” Dallas frowned from the backseat. “The Liberation Tigers of the Tamil Eelam, right?”

  Again, Lily was impressed. Even more so when Manny added, “More commonly known as Tigers. They’re big into terrorism. Threat of a renewed brutal and bloody civil war with the Sinhalese governing body here in Sri Lanka is always on the table.”

  “The Tamils want their own independent state,” Lily explained. “Differences based in religion. Sinhalese Buddhists versus Tamil Hindus.”

  “Although some maintain it’s simply about equality,” Darcy mused aloud, giving Lily another surprise with her knowledge of the volatile situation in Sri Lanka. “The Tamils are the minority ethnic group. They want to be heard. Still, no matter how you slice it, it’s the same ole same ole, though, isn’t it? Two inherently peace-loving religions at war. Why does this always happen?”

  “One of the most asked questions of our time,” Dallas put in cynically from the backseat as they sped toward the market district. “Take a right at the next intersection.”

  “In any event.” Manny flipped his turn signal and darted into the right lane before continuing. “Since none of the other students have been abducted or gone missing, we’ve got to figure that Amithnal was the target and Adam was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “And that the Tigers are most likely the major players here, figuring they can use Amithnal for political leverage,” Ethan surmised.

  “Ransom demands?” Darcy asked.

  Manny shook his head. “None yet.”

  “I’ve spoken with Adam’s student adviser three times since this all happened.” Lily turned in the seat so she could see Darcy. “According to him, Adam and the Muhandiramalas’ daughter, Minrada, have been helping to repair the primary school in Matara and make it operational again.”

  “Matara…Matara…Wait.” Paper rattled in the backseat while Dallas searched for Matara on the map. “Okay. Found it. Southern tip of the island. Looks like it’s about two hundred and fifty kilometers from here.”

  “Amithnal and Sathi, that’s Mrs. Muhandiramala,” Lily continued, “made plans to meet Adam and Minrada last Friday in Ratnapura. South and east,” she added for Dallas’s benefit when she heard the map crackle again. “It’s about a halfway point between Matara and Colombo.”

  “Okay, there it is,” Dallas said.

  “The plan was for the four of them to meet up, then drive on up to the mountains and eventually to Kandy for some sightseeing and to spend a long weekend together.” She glanced over her shoulder toward Dallas. “If you’re looking, Kandy’s due east of Colombo.”

  Lily had not only studied the globe when Adam had started planning this trip, she’d also ordered a Sri Lanka map and pored over it, familiarizing herself with the island. She’d wanted to know everything she could about the place her son would be spending the summer.

  “Do we know if they met up in Ratnapura?”

  Lily couldn’t make herself respond to Darcy’s question. To her surprise, Manny came to her rescue.

  “No. We don’t know. No one has seen any of them since they left on Friday.”

  With his arm propped on the door over the open window, Ethan drummed his fingers on the Suburban’s roof. “When were they due back?”

  “Amithnal and Sathi were expected back in Colombo on Tuesday afternoon,” Lily said. “The kids were scheduled for another workday in Matara on Wednesday, so we’re assuming their plan was to head back sometime on Tuesday.”

  “That’s two days ago.”

  Lily didn’t need Ethan’s calculations. She knew exactly how many days it was. The knowledge made her heart race with worry and fear for her son.

  “Were they camping or hoteling?”

  “Hotel.” Lily rolled down her window to catch a breeze in the stifling heat. “According to Emory—Adam’s sponsor—Sathi likes her creature comforts. But we don’t have the name of any specific place. Emory’s made several calls but so far hasn’t hit the right inn. According to the guidebook there are any number of guest-houses where they could have stayed in an area that covers several hundred square miles.”

  “Okay, we’re talking central highlands here. Not known Tamil strongholds,” Ethan reminded everyone pragmatically. “The Tiger operational bases are all supposed to be to the north and along the east coast. So maybe we’re leaping to conclusions on an abduction. Maybe they had an accident or just got lost.”

  Manny had purchased an English version of a Colombo newspaper while they waited in the airport. He picked it up from the seat between them. A St. Christopher medal swung out of the open collar of his shirt when he twisted around to hand the paper over the front seat to Ethan.

  Was it the same one, Lily wondered, that he’d worn all those years ago? She flashed on a memory of Manny levered on his elbows above her, his eyes closed, his face taut with desire as he pumped into her, the round silver medallion gently tap, tap, tapping against h
er breast.

  “Check it out,” Manny said, the gruffness of his tone snapping her back to the grim reality of the present.

  “Well, hell,” Ethan muttered after reading the front-page article chronicling a foiled bomb plot in Kandy. It had “Tiger” written all over it. In addition, there had been uncharacteristic sightings of Tiger rebel squads in the Nuwara Eliya district in the mountains south of Kandy in the past few weeks.

  “It wasn’t known Tamil territory,” Manny restated Ethan’s point with a glance in the rearview mirror, “until three days ago. About the same time Adam and the Muhandiramalas disappeared.”

  Which pretty much cemented their original assumption. Tamil rebels, ruthless, unscrupulous, notoriously brutal, were most likely at play here. And most likely, the Muhandiramalas had been abducted. Possibly killed, Adam included.

  Suddenly it all caught up with Lily. The worry. The fear. The helplessness of first being so far away and now being so near and unable to see or touch her son.

  “Adam’s not dead. He can’t be dead.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d said it out loud until she felt Darcy’s hand squeeze her shoulder.

  “We’ll find him,” Darcy assured her.

  Lily closed her eyes. Nodded. More thankful than she could have imagined for the presence of this woman she’d just met. With nothing but cold indifference coming from Dallas and Ethan, and waves of brittle hostility emanating from Manny, Darcy’s warmth helped shore Lily up.

  Dallas glanced up from the map again. “And what’s the reason the Sinhalese government isn’t on top of this?”

  “Let me tackle that one,” Darcy said, then surprised Lily again with her on-point accurate assessment. “Because of the civil unrest between the Tigers and the Sinhalese, and because there is constant infighting between the Sri Lankan president and the prime minister, I’m thinking the government is bottlenecked over getting involved. They’re probably dragging their feet on organizing a rescue mission because they’re afraid intervention could result in all-out civil war and topple the precariously built cease-fire they’ve been coddling for the past three years.”

  Lily blinked at Darcy and hung on to the door handle when Manny made another sharp turn.

  “In a not so distant former life,” Darcy explained with a smile, “I worked as vice-consul for the U.S. Embassy—most recently in Manila.”

  Darcy exchanged a meaningful glance with Ethan before going on. “Old habit. I still keep abreast of political issues in this part of the world. And I know all too well how these struggling democracies work—or don’t work, as the case may be. Plus we pulled everything we could find on Sri Lanka off the Net before leaving West Palm and we all read the material at least twice on the flight.”

  “Slow down.” Dallas glanced around the bustling Colombo street. “We should be getting close.”

  Some of the vendors were preparing to close up shop for the day, but many still hawked products ranging from fruits, to vegetables, to fish, to sarongs—anything imaginable—from open-fronted stands lining the streets. Some sold out of two-wheel carts running single file down the middle of the stationary stalls.

  The locals wore everything from the traditional saris and sarongs in blazing white, to rich, jewel-toned colors, to Western dress or a combination of both. Ox- and donkey-drawn carts competed for parking with hundreds of vehicles. Jeeps, Cadillacs, VWs, and even one old pickup that might have rolled off an assembly line in the early sixties lined the curbs.

  Lily understood why Sri Lanka was a tourist’s dream and an increasingly popular vacation spot for both Europeans and Americans. Colombo was exotic, vital, and a charming mix of old world and new. The scent of fruits and fish and suntan lotion and bug spray bled in through the Suburban’s open window as they made their way slowly through the glut of color and culture.

  Another time, another life, she might have enjoyed, even relished, exploring the markets and bazaars. The richness of it. The romance. The thrill of discovery.

  But there was no romance in abduction. No richness in fear. And there was no thrill in knowing that the man with whom she’d once shared lazy nights of love and laughter now regarded her with a wariness and trust reserved for pit vipers.

  “There—that’s it.” Dallas’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Pull over in front of that print shop. We’ll see if my sources came through.”

  Manny double-parked and Dallas rolled out of the backseat. “Sit tight.” He slapped a hand on the roof of the vehicle, then, dodging traffic, jogged across the street.

  Lily watched as Dallas ducked inside a small shop. Inside the Suburban all was quiet. No one said a word—yet Lily got the feeling that to a person they all knew what Dallas was after, all but her.

  The tension heightened to bowstring tautness. Perspiration trickled down her back as they waited, all of them sticky hot, all of them tense.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked when she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  Manny glanced over his shoulder at Ethan, who gave him a go-ahead nod.

  “Making a deal.” Manny propped his elbow on the open window frame, flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, and stared straight ahead. “If we’re lucky.”

  A deal. There was only one commodity Lily could think of that required sources and deals. Weapons.

  Both relief and panic hit her full bore. Relief that they weren’t going after her baby without an arsenal. Panic that the illusion she’d secretly harbored of finding Adam and bringing him home without a deadly confrontation had just been shattered.

  These men—these warriors who had fought for freedom, fought for peace—harbored no such delusions. Her child was in grave danger. And everyone who went after him was in danger, too.

  Same time, somewhere in the mountainous Badulla district, UVA Province, Sri Lanka

  “Do you have any idea where we are?” Adam whispered. He didn’t want to attract the attention of the armed guard who watched over them at the entrance of the cave.

  Minrada lowered her head to her knees, where her bound wrists rested. She turned her head, blinked at Adam through the long curtain of thick black hair that fell over her eyes. “Still in the mountains. But south maybe. UVA Province? I’m not sure. It is cool. It is dry.” Looking weary to the bone, she gave her head a slight shake. “Other than that, I do not know. There are caves all over in this area.”

  Adam could barely make out Minrada’s features in the darkness. The cave was bone cold and midnight black. They’d been moved here from someplace outside of Kandy during the night. Bound and gagged, they’d been thrown into a rusty pickup, ordered to lie down, and covered with a filthy tarp. He didn’t know how many kilometers they’d bounced along, their faces grinding into the rusted metal of the truck bed. The air had been thick with dust and sweat and the shift and grind of gears.

  Beside them in the cave, Minrada’s parents slept. Both were exhausted. Sathi was frightened and Amithnal held her, comforting her. Shit, they were all scared. Although, to look at her, you’d never know Minrada was a captive of this group of twenty men who were as short on explanations as they were on food and water.

  She was cool, composed, and utterly calm. Adam had never known anyone so brave.

  And he’d never felt so useless. The assholes who attacked them had come out of nowhere. They wore Tamil Tiger uniforms, Minrada had whispered when she and Adam were hauled into the truck. One minute the four of them—Adam, Minrada, Sathi, and Amithnal—were listening to the constant chatter of birds and admiring a temple ruin; the next, a dozen men with semiautomatic weapons, their faces covered with black scarves, surrounded them.

  He should have fought them. No matter how many times Minrada had assured him no good would have come from it, Adam knew he should have fought.

  And he would fight them. When the time was right. But now, he had to wait. His ass was asleep. The rock was cold and hard as steel beneath him. He had to bite his tongue to keep from bitching and moaning like a baby—probabl
y would have done plenty of both if it hadn’t been for Minrada. He’d thought he was tough. She’d taught him a thing or two about the word.

  He’d never met anyone like her. She was twenty. Soft and curvy and only four years older than he was—and yet she had what his mom would refer to as an old soul. Old and strong and beautiful. Nothing like the girls he knew back home who were all about makeup and hair and stupid things. Baby things.

  Minrada was…amazing.

  “It’s a pretty name,” he’d told her one day when they’d been working side by side painting a classroom in a newly reclaimed grade school in Matara. “What does it mean?”

  “My mother says it means ‘she who gives wisdom and love.’”

  “It fits you.” It had taken Adam a long time to screw up the courage to say so.

  When she’d smiled for him, he’d gone weak in the knees. No shit. He’d felt all rubbery and faint—him— and his face had burned hot. Probably turned as red as a ripe melon, too. He hadn’t been able to speak to her again for a full day. What a dweeb.

  He glanced toward the mouth of the cave. Studied the black silhouette of the soldier guarding the door. Kidnapped. Shit. He’d come to Sri Lanka for the adventure. For the experience. Because it was a cool thing to do. And yeah, because after reading about the tsunami victims, he’d wanted to help. But then he’d met Minrada. And in addition to the adventure, he’d fallen in love. With her soft black eyes. With the dark, inky silk of her hair. The warmth of her smile and the amazing generosity of her heart.

  She was a woman. Until her, all he’d known was girls.

  He let his head drop back against the cave’s wall, let his eyes drift shut. When they got out of this—if they got out of this—he was going to tell her.

  He was going to look into eyes as soft as a summer night, as dark as a deep mountain spring, and he was going to tell her he loved her.

  Damn. And how was it that the thought of confessing his feelings to this woman scared him more than facing another night in the hands of hard men with big guns who were just looking for a reason to blow him to pieces?