The C-130’s engines were whining, the four turboprops spinning and invisible in the night. Jim and Pepper boarded through the rear ramp, and she hauled her gear on board, taking a seat next to the jump master, a grizzled-looking sergeant in his mid-forties. The load master, a woman sergeant, gave the signal, and the ramp began to come up, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the cargo plane’s cavernous hull. Soon the inside of the aircraft was dark, the gloom broken only by a few small lights.
Jim had sat opposite Pepper, on the other side of the aircraft. He wouldn’t look at her, she noticed. Instead, he fiddled with his pack, going through last-minute checks on various items. His movements were sure, brisk and economical. He knew what he was doing. He’d done this many times before—and she hadn’t.
Squelching the urge to go over her own pack again, Pepper sat quietly. The C-130’s engine whined at a much-higher pitch, and the aircraft began trundling awkwardly down the runway toward the takeoff point. The vibrations went through her, launching the faint smell of hot oil and metal. The human element was lacking in this mission, she realized. The weapons were cold steel. The plane was metal. Even the air crew with the C-130 seemed stoic and robotlike. At the moment only Pepper and her rising internal panic seemed frighteningly soft and human.
Her palms were wet, and she rubbed them against the fabric on her thighs. Her heart wouldn’t settle down. Every time she thought of the coming HAHO, and all the possible problems, she broke out in a sweat. This time, if Jim’s chute didn’t open, she wouldn’t see it. The darkness would mask the view of a partner plummeting to certain death. So many harrowing possibilities ran through Pepper’s head. What she wanted, what she needed, was Jim’s closeness. She tried to reassure herself that her need to be close to Jim and feel his touch was a normal desire she always had before a risky jump—a way to know she was connected to the rest of her team. Still, her stomach tightened, and an odd tingling at the base of her spine as she looked at his strong, reclining figure, scared her more than she wanted to admit. Maybe she should be thankful Jim had shut himself off from her, she thought suddenly, dashing fiercely at unexpected tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She was alone in this mission, as she ultimately was in life. She had her family and friends and that was enough—more than enough. She sat up a little straighter in her seat.
As the C-130 rumbled through the air toward Nevis, Pepper thought about her past. While the hours passed, she was able to review her entire life to date—the good experiences and the bad. All of them had been instructive in some way, and she was grateful to realize that. As she continued to sit on the vibrating seat, tired but wide awake, her hands in her lap, she was glad she’d left her parents that letter.
And Jim…She stole a glance through the gloom. He was lying down, his back to her, curled up on some nylon seats across the aisle. Pepper admired the possibility that he might be able to sleep so close to a jump. She couldn’t. She thought again of their dinner together and realized just how much she’d come to like him. That brief moment where he’d been human, warm, even tender with her, had shown her the real man beneath his harsh military facade. Her heart cried out at the injustice of it all. But he was in love with Laura. That’s why he’d separated from her, kept his distance. His mind and heart were focused on Laura’s rescue—not on what might be frightening Pepper, what her needs might be.
Pepper understood those things without bitterness. Surely she was old enough, wise enough, to allow people to be themselves. Although she might not agree with Jim’s behavior, especially under the circumstances, she wasn’t going to try to change it—or him. But didn’t he realize she was scared, too? That she might need a brief touch on the shoulder, a slight smile or sign from him? Wolf had given her that before they’d left. But then, Wolf was different from Jim. He’d been through the fires of hell with Sarah, Pepper knew, and she had brought him out of his own closed world.
Feeling sad as never before, Pepper decided she would lie down, too. She stretched out on a row of uncomfortable nylon seats, her arm beneath her cheek, and closed her eyes. Exhaustion swept over her. Too much had happened too quickly. As much as her mind counseled against it, her heart ached with the pain of Jim’s reproach. Her feelings toward him were good and true and strong—yet he pushed those genuine emotions away. Because he loved Laura.
Pepper shifted, trying to shut out the overwhelming noise of a C-130 in flight, and to ignore the bone-jarring vibrations. She could die, and Jim would never know what lay in her heart. Tears matted her lashes, and she struggled to hold them back. Even as she fought her rampant emotions, she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Chapter Six
A hand gripped Jim’s shoulder. Instantly, he was awake. The jump master leaned over and said, “It’s time to get ready, sir.”
Shaking off the much-needed sleep, Jim nodded and moved into a sitting position on the nylon seats. Removing the black covering from his watch, he saw that it was 0200. They’d be over the target in an hour.
Automatically, his gaze ranged through the gloom. The jump master must have sensed his worry, because he leaned down again. “She’s been sleeping almost as long as you have, sir. Shall I wake her?”
“No, I’ll do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jim took the can that contained the colors they would use to darken their faces before the jump. His heart twisted in his chest as he drew closer to where Pepper slept. Her long body was tucked along four of the nylon seats, her hand beneath her cheek. She looked angelic, her lips softly parted, her hair in mild disarray around her serene face. He felt guilty at the thought after his concerted effort to remain apart from her during the flight.
As he knelt down, one hand gripping the nylon for support as the aircraft bumped along, he had a wild, nearly uncontainable urge to reach out and touch her hair. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that the jump master was probably watching him. Instead, Jim settled his hand firmly on her shoulder and squeezed just enough to waken her.
Pepper felt a strong, warm hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open. She blinked, thinking she was dreaming. Jim was kneeling over her, a concerned, unguarded look on his face. His eyes were shadowed, but they burned with a fire she felt go through her as surely as morning sunlight after a cold Montana night. No longer was he hard and unapproachable. No, this man was the one she was helplessly drawn to, against her better judgment.
She savored the feel of his hand on her shoulder and the strength and care it conveyed. When Pepper realized she hadn’t moved, but had only stared up into his eyes like a child for that long, undiluted moment, she made an effort to sit up. Her hair fell in tangles about her face, and she used her fingers to tame it into some semblance of order. Jim’s nearness was agony. He had removed his hand, but not himself. Why not?
Confused, she looked at him.
“It’s time to get ready,” he said. He handed her the can containing black, green and tan coloring agents. “Cover your face, neck, hands and lower arms,” he explained, then forced himself to get up before he did something crazy like kiss her senseless.
As he rose to his feet, Jim knew he should return to his side of the aircraft, but he couldn’t do it. Instead, he settled a chair away from Pepper and used her open tin to start camouflaging his own face. Covertly, he watched as she slowly applied the greasepaint to her lovely features. When they jumped, they would be completely invisible to anyone on the ground.
As he sat, absorbing the din and heavy vibration of the aircraft, Jim was surprised at how much Pepper meant to him. It was all so crazy, he decided in frustration. He continued applying the greasepaint to the exposed skin of his hands and forearms, wishing himself anywhere but here. Without question, he wanted to rescue Laura, but his heart longed for anything but the danger he knew they would be parachuting into. He’d had no time to talk to Pepper, to share his chaotic feelings, which were as surprising to him as he was sure they would be to her. Just as their kiss had been….
>
With a slight shake of his head, he finished smearing on the agent, feeling completely at loose ends. One part of him, the warrior, was focused on the mission to rescue Laura. But the man in him was torn between Laura and Pepper. Pepper was like a delicious, mysterious flower that had yet to open in his presence—a rare, beautiful orchid hidden deep in the jungles of the Amazon, waiting to be discovered, to be touched, to be loved.
Loved? Jim got to his feet, unable to stand being so near her. He was going to end up doing something foolish and embarrassing if he didn’t move. Such a large part of him wanted to get to know her—all of her, on all levels. As he made his way back across the belly of the aircraft to the seats against the other wall, Jim realized he had to rise above his personal dilemma and focus on the mission. He needed to rescue Laura and find out just what she really meant to him.
No woman in his life had stunned him as Pepper had. Not that she’d meant to. No, he’d seen with painful clarity just how much she’d loved Captain John Freedman. He couldn’t talk openly to people. He didn’t possess those magical qualities that held Pepper in thrall.
Sitting down, his mouth grim, he began putting on his gear, plus the elastic joint protectors Pepper had brought along for them, with the help of the load master. Angrily, Jim forced his focus to the business at hand, but every once in a while he stole a look across the aircraft to where Pepper was being helped with her own gear. He saw the strain on her face and the fear in her eyes. That was a healthy sign. Beneath his own emotional state, he felt that same fear and trepidation. But his mind and heart were centered on Laura and Pepper.
Life was so screwed up, he decided disgustedly as he shrugged on the sixty-pound pack containing his two parachutes and everything else he’d need for the mission. Pepper had walked into his life, sent him reeling emotionally, but her heart was still trapped in the past—just as his apparently was. He had no time to savor her and discover her. Instead, they had a mission staring them in the face, and either, or both of them could die at any point. Never had Jim felt the surge of anger he felt now. How unfair life was. How damned unfair to all of them.
Compressing his lips, he thanked the load master and adjusted his headset.
“Pepper?” he said, trying it out.
Instantly, her head jerked up. “Yes?”
“You hear me okay?” Jim was barely whispering into the mike placed against his lips. Her husky voice sent a wave of need through him, one so excruciating that he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.
“Y-yes. Fine.”
Jim heard the fear in her voice. Without thinking, he crossed the cargo plane to her side. The jump master had finished helping her on with her pack and had gone to his position near the ramp.
Reaching out, Jim slipped his hand around Pepper’s upper arm, his eyes meeting her shadowed gaze. “Are you okay?”
She drew in a ragged breath. “Scared to death, if you want the truth. I mean, I’m nervous about the jump, but I’m more scared of what waits for us on the ground.”
He gave her a tight smile. “It’s healthy to be scared. It will keep you alive.”
Pepper gazed up at Jim’s dark features, at his eyes, glittering with some unknown emotion. “You look like we’re going for a stroll in the park,” she observed, trying for levity. His hand hadn’t left her arm, and she desperately wanted to move closer to him. Did Jim realize the strength and confidence he exuded? How it helped her steady her own frayed emotions?
“I’m scared to death, too,” he rasped, meeting and holding her gaze. Pepper had tucked her glorious hair beneath a helmet, black knit cap and positioned the headset over it. Her once-tan skin was streaked black, green and brown.
“I’m glad to hear it. My knees are feeling weak. I’m shaking.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed, losing the hardness he wanted to keep between them. If Pepper realized how much he ached to have her, to discover her as the wonderful, unique woman she was, Jim knew she would retreat permanently from him. He squeezed her arm and found himself wanting to slip his around her shoulder to reassure her.
With a nervous laugh, she said, “I haven’t been this scared in a long time. Maybe on my first jump into a fire with my team, but not since.” She felt bereft when Jim removed his hand. To her surprise, though, he didn’t move away, instead remained only inches from her, as if to shield her with his tall, stalwart body.
“Fifteen minutes,” the jump master informed them.
“Roger.” Jim checked the altimeter on his right wrist and the watch on his left. “Is all your equipment in working order?”
“Yes.” Swallowing hard and suddenly very thirsty, Pepper bit back the rest of what she wanted to say. She felt like babbling nervously to bleed off the fear that crouched in her chest and knotted her stomach. She could die in the jump. She could miss the island and drown. She could be gored by a tree limb…. Sitting down awkwardly with her pack, she fumbled with her bootlaces, tying them into double knots. Jim stayed close, and stymied, she wondered why. Was he worried she wouldn’t or couldn’t fulfill the mission now that she’d admitted her fear?
Her three-hour nap had left her feeling groggy. If only they’d had another day or two to rest up before the mission. Pepper felt strung out emotionally, uncertain about how Jim saw her, or even if he trusted her at all with this mission. The urge to turn, slip her hands around his broad, capable shoulders and press herself against him was very real. Too real. She told herself she was human, seeking comfort from an understandably scary situation. It was normal to find solace with another person. But why Jim? His heart was held captive by Laura Trayhern, whether she knew it or not. His love was bound up in the past.
“Five minutes,” the load master said, hitting the switch that caused the giant ramp to open. Grinding sounds filled the cargo bay.
Pepper tried to still her pounding heart, without success. She got up and walked across the deck, with Jim at her side. Her mind whirled with a litany of what needed to be done and in what order. Everything hinged on her parasail opening without a hitch, and she worried about Jim’s jump. This time if something went wrong they wouldn’t be able to help each other. Although they would be in radio contact via their walkie-talkies, silence was a must. In fact, until they were established on the island and sure they hadn’t been spotted, hand signals would be their only means of communication, for fear of someone overhearing them or discovering their position.
Jim gripped Pepper’s arm, when the ramp opened fully and a gusting wind began to tear through the cargo bay. At twenty thousand feet, the air was freezing cold. He felt the aircraft begin to bank, bringing them east of their target, Nevis.
“One minute,” the jump master warned.
Jim’s fingers dug into Pepper’s arm. “Listen,” he rasped, his face very close to hers. “I want you to be careful. No heroics, okay?”
Startled, Pepper felt his warm breath on her face as she was pulled against him. She opened her mouth to reply, caught up in the fierce, burning light in his dark green eyes.
“Dammit, Pepper, this isn’t how I wanted it. I wanted time…time with you. We don’t have it. You’re special. I just wanted you to know that….”
Stunned, she stared up at his grim features. One of her hands was resting against the pack on his chest, and she swayed slightly off-balance as the plane tilted. She felt his hand tighten on her arm to steady her. Somewhere in her mind she realized that Jim could have held her at arm’s length and helped her regain her balance, but he hadn’t. He wanted her close, as close as they could get under the circumstances. The helmet on his head, the tight chin strap, the greasepaint and the darkness combined to give his face a dangerous look. She felt his eyes burning into her, touching her heart, her soul. Not believing what she’d just heard, she said brokenly, “There are so many ghosts from the past, Jim….”
“Thirty seconds,” boomed the jump master.
Cursing softly, Jim released Pepper and moved ahead of her. It was too late to talk.
He saw the jump master’s grim face and watched the blinking red light that would turn green any moment now. The C-130 suddenly straightened out into level flight after the deep, tight turn. Wind whipped against him. Fortunately, his goggles protected his eyes. His mind revolved forward to the mission at hand. God willing, they’d find Laura and get her out alive.
So much could go wrong. So much.
The light flashed green.
The jump master gave the signal.
Jim moved down the ramp and leapt off its lip. Almost instantly he was hit by the power of the slipstream. He groaned and righted himself in the icy night air. Twisting to look upward, he heard the plane but couldn’t see if Pepper had jumped yet. But he didn’t have time to worry. Watching his altimeter, he pulled the cord when he reached ten thousand feet. The parasail opened flawlessly, jerking him upward as his gear sagged down, tugging mercilessly at his body.
Where was Pepper? All he could see under the quarter moon was the glinting of light on the smooth water of the Caribbean below. A few stars twinkled. He didn’t have time to look around. Checking his compass, he pulled at the lines, directing his parasail in a slightly more westerly direction. The winds weren’t cooperating; in their briefing earlier, the weather forecaster had warned them of this. Where the hell was Pepper? Again Jim twisted his head, but was unable to locate her.
He was panting hard, his breath coming in rasps. If he could just steady his breathing, he might be able to hear her. Wrestling with his chute in the uncooperative winds, he saw Nevis coming up. The dormant volcano sat on the western end of the island, near Plantation Paloma. In fact, Garcia had built his fortress at the bottom of its velvety green slopes. Again Jim checked his compass and made another adjustment. If he wasn’t careful, he’d overshoot the whole damned island.
At five thousand feet, he was drifting silently toward the northern coast. He could see the white beaches now, and the black glint of the water. The iciness had changed to warmth, and he felt a trickle of sweat down his rib cage. It was hurricane season, so the humidity was high. He would feel his parasail slowing in the heavy wet air as he came closer and closer to the island. Making some last-minute adjustments on the lines, he aimed for their agreed-on LZ—a small clearing about half a mile inland that had been photographed by the U-2 flyby.
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