by Vanessa Kier
Over David’s shoulder, she saw one of the men flinch. Good. Let him think about the consequences of his actions.
“That is fair,” David conceded. “You have five minutes.”
There was nothing fair about this situation, she wanted to scream. But it was clear that nothing she did would change their minds.
Holding her head up, she stepped away from the door. Jacobs moved as if to follow her.
“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Just stay there. I don’t want anything to do with you or MacKay. Neither one of you are welcome here or at my bungalow any longer. Once you’ve finished your torturing, I want you gone.” She turned and faced the room. “In fact, I don’t ever want to see any of you here at the clinic again,” she called through the open door. “You’re no longer welcome. From now on, you must go into the regional capital for your medical needs.”
Head and heart aching, she turned away and retreated to her office. Slipping out of her lab coat, she threw it on the floor, then collapsed into her chair. All of her hopes and dreams, the decent jobs the clinic had provided to the villagers, the medical care that had saved lives, the pride of the locals that they’d helped to restore the clinic—all of that had just been destroyed by a needless act of violence.
“Doctor?” Leticia appeared in the doorway. She looked worried. And scared. “You’re bleeding.”
Helen put her hand up to her mouth and her fingers came away spotted with blood. For some reason, that caused a hysterical bubble of laughter to rise up inside her. She set her teeth against the cut on her lip, using the small pain to kill the laughter before it could escape. “It’s nothing,” she reassured Leticia. This small pain was insignificant next to what agony MacKay and David would inflict on that poor man.
“We’re closing the clinic,” she told Leticia. “We have four minutes now to get out. Tell everyone to grab their things and go home.”
“Will we open again in the morning?”
“No. I—” Helen glanced in the direction of the newly refurbished lab. Her heart hurt so much, she could barely breathe past the pain. I don’t know if I can do this any more. “I think it’s best if we stay closed for a few days until tempers have settled down. I’ll send word when we decide to reopen.” She mustered up a smile and Leticia nodded.
“You heard about the explosives in the village?”
“Yes, doctor.”
“If you or any of the others don’t feel comfortable returning to the village, you can stay at my bungalow. For those who want to go home but are afraid to walk past the mob, I’ll give them a ride.” She pushed to her feet, then swayed under a wave of sadness, fury, and a sickening sense of helplessness. Pain pounded in her head, making it difficult to think. “But we must hurry.”
“Yes, doctor.”
Knowing she would go over the five minute deadline, Helen quickly boxed up her patient folders. Then she stacked the three boxes and carried them into the hallway.
Jacobs stood guard at the door to the exam room, cradling an automatic weapon in one arm while balancing on his crutches with the other. Helen quickly turned her head away.
“Here, doctor.” Leticia walked up from the other end of the hallway, pushing the cart with all of the sensitive supplies that they usually locked up each night. Helen gratefully set her boxes on the empty space on the corner.
“I told you to leave.”
“Yes, but we don’t want those angry people to cause more damage than they already intend,” Leticia explained.
Throat tight with gratitude, Helen could only nod her thanks. Leticia pushed the cart into the storage closet, then Helen entered the code to open the secret door. It only took a moment to load the cart onto the special dumbwaiter and send it down to the underground safe room.
“Has everyone else gone now?” Helen asked after she’d locked the door and the closet.
“Yes, doctor.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
They walked out the back door together. Helen had feared there’d be more angry villagers in the yard, but although she could hear angry chanting from the front, this area was empty.
Helen’s feet automatically carried her toward the SUV, but at the last moment she veered away. While she still wanted to believe that Mr. Natchaba was innocent, she didn’t feel comfortable using the SUV until she knew for certain the expensive vehicle hadn’t been a gift from a murderer.
Instead, she opened the door of the clinic’s aged pickup truck and indicated for Leticia to get in. As she drove Leticia home, they saw a few people walking away from the village toward the main road. Apparently not everyone felt confident that David would get the information he needed to protect them.
“Are you certain you don’t wish to stay with me?” Helen asked.
“Thank you, doctor, but no. My husband has a motorbike. We will visit my sister in the northwest region. I am more worried that the villagers will come after you.”
Helen didn’t understand how things had so quickly gotten out of hand. “I’ll be fine. I’ll escape underground if necessary.”
“Doctor.” Leticia turned to face Helen. “In case something happens, it has been my pleasure serving with you.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Thank you, Leticia. It has been an honor to work with such a dedicated, caring woman as yourself. Safe journey.”
Leticia nodded and closed the truck’s door. Helen watched until she was met by her husband, then started to drive back to her bungalow. But she realized that she didn’t want to pass the rest of the day brooding. Instead, she offered the next group of fleeing villagers a ride. Playing taxi proved to be an excellent distraction and she’d calmed down considerably by the time she arrived home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LACHLAN GUARDED THE prisoner while Tony went to retrieve the emergency med kit, although the man might not be able to speak clearly even when awake. His nose was broken and his split lips were already swelling. But Lachlan would extract as much information as possible in order to prevent more children from dying.
“Here you go, Commander.” Tony hobbled into the room and passed Lachlan his kit. His eyes flicked to the prisoner and his lips tightened.
Ignoring his teammate’s disapproval, Lachlan pulled out the syringe and filled it with stimulant. If he’d had this option seven months ago, would Father MacGuinessy still be alive?
“Lachlan. Stop, lad. You’re going to kill him.”
Two of his teammates pulled Lachlan away from the bruised and bloody body of the rebel. “He hasn’t told us where they’re holding Father MacGuinessy and the others,” Lachlan gasped as he struggled against the arms holding him.
“He can’t tell us what he knows while he’s unconscious.”
Fear and despair nearly choked Lachlan. “We have to find them. Time is running out.” Father MacGuinessy had saved him. Lachlan couldn’t let him die.
“Commander?” Tony murmured. “Are you with me?”
Lachlan shook his head and stared at the syringe in his hands. “Aye.” By the time the other rebel had regained consciousness and given up the location of the hostages it had been too late. The multi-national hostage rescue team had arrived at the missionary school to discover that three hostages had already been killed. Father MacGuinessy had been tortured so badly that he’d died in Lachlan’s arms.
A fist of anguish and regret squeezed his heart. For a moment Lachlan couldn’t breathe. His loss of temper that day had been responsible for his team’s fatal delay. He couldn’t go back and save Father MacGuinessy, but today he would save other innocent people.
Taking a deep breath, Lachlan injected the stimulant into the prisoner’s biceps, hoping that Tony didn’t notice the fine tremor in his hand. But with the events of the past two days, particularly the deaths of nearly a hundred children, Lachlan’s control over his temper was razor thin.
An hour later, Lachlan finished setting and bracing the prisoner’s broken fingers, basic field medicine Lachlan had frequently performed in
the past. This time, nausea slithered through his belly and he could almost hear his father’s mocking voice. No better than the old man, are you? Hurting the prisoner and then healing him.
Lachlan clenched his jaw. He wasn’t like his father. He hadn’t hurt the prisoner because he needed an outlet for his temper or because he enjoyed inflicting pain. In fact, he’d had to stifle his own memories of crying out in pain each time one of the prisoner’s finger bones had snapped. Yet in the end, they’d received the information they needed to make certain the villagers remained alive. Plus, the man had confirmed that Natchaba was behind not just today’s attempted bombing, but the festival day attack.
So why did Lachlan feel as if he’d stepped over a line?
After securing the last bit of medical tape round the brace on the prisoner’s finger, Lachlan turned to David. “He’s all yours.”
David scowled at the prisoner. “I did not expect such a tale. When Natchaba moved into this area he asked if Kwesi and I recognized his surname. It is a common enough name, so we did not understand the question. Natchaba then explained that his mother’s family had been exiled from our tribe when she was a small girl.” David shrugged. “At the time, I believed that he had returned in order to impress us with his wealth. How was I to know that Natchaba would attack our people in order to take revenge for an insult to his family that occurred before many of us were born?” He flicked a disgusted glance at the prisoner. “This man, he always wanted more than he was willing to work for, but I would not have guessed he would agree to help kill us all.”
“Natchaba will not stop,” the prisoner said in a voice hoarse from screaming. “You will see. He will destroy you and everyone you hold dear. The other rebels will see how great he is and he will become a powerful leader.”
“Perhaps. But first we will kill you for helping to stage the festival day attack. Our tribe will have justice for the deaths you have caused.” David nodded to two of the other men in the room. They grabbed the prisoner’s arms and escorted him outside.
“Your tribal members were not the only ones who died in the attack,” Lachlan pointed out. “The right thing to do is turn the prisoner over to the government. Show the country that you are different from the rebels and that you value the rule of law.”
The need for retribution burned in David’s eyes, but after a long, tense moment, he nodded. “What you say makes sense. I promise that we will hold the prisoner until the authorities arrive.”
“And that he will not be harmed any further,” Lachlan added.
David looked at him in surprise, then shrugged. “As you wish. We will not hurt the man any more.”
Lachlan wondered if convincing David to spare the man’s life would earn him any points with Dr. Kirk. Somehow, he doubted it.
“Now, enough of this serious business. Thank you, my friend.” David grinned and clapped Lachlan on the shoulder. “Our people will rest easy tonight because of your assistance.”
Lachlan gave a brusque nod of acknowledgment and continued tidying up.
Shooting him a puzzled look, David and the remaining men left the room, followed by Tony. A moment later, Lachlan heard a cheer from the crowd out front. David must have given them the news that the explosives were not live. The would-be-bomber had been interrupted before he could attach the det cord. With no triggering mechanism, the explosives could be left in place until the bomb squad arrived.
Lachlan continued disinfecting the bed and the counter.
“Nasty business,” Tony said when he returned.
Lachlan tossed the rags and his soiled gloves in the hazardous waste bin and slammed the lid shut. “You think I should have listened to Dr. Kirk and told David to evacuate the village first?”
Tony studied him a moment. But instead of censure, Lachlan saw… Sympathy? Startled, Lachlan almost missed Tony’s soft, “No. You made the choice you thought would save lives fastest.”
Lachlan nodded and checked to make certain he hadn’t missed any spots.
“Do you think the prisoner was right and Natchaba will keep launching attacks until he wipes out these three villages and Dr. Kirk’s clinic?” Tony asked.
“Aye.” Lachlan understood the driving power of vengeance. He’d nearly been consumed by it after the Father’s death. “He’ll need to complete his revenge. Plus, if the prisoner is correct and Natchaba is aiming for the top spot in the rebel hierarchy, allowing witnesses to survive will be seen as a weakness.”
Lachlan glanced around the exam room, checking that he’d erased all signs of violence. “But protecting the villagers is now the job of the government.” He’d notified the regional police of the situation and had been told that a team would be dispatched as soon as possible.
Satisfied that the room was once again pristine, he and Tony walked to the front door, which David’s group had left wide open. The jubilant crowd was singing and dancing their way back to the village. Lachlan shook his head. “Appears as if David didn’t tell them the village is still under threat.”
“Can you blame him?” Tony said. “The prisoner didn’t provide any specifics regarding additional attacks.”
Lachlan shrugged as he shut and locked the door from the inside. The prisoner hadn’t cared why Natchaba ordered him to blow up the village. He’d been an angry man looking for an outlet. He’d resented the fact that other villagers were hired to restore the clinic, but not him. David had scoffed at that, pointing out that the prisoner had no construction skills and would have contributed nothing to the restoration. Still, the man had keenly resented his fellow villagers and Natchaba had turned that resentment into hatred of Dr. Kirk and all foreigners.
Lachlan stared down the empty corridor. Except for the two of them, the clinic was otherwise deserted. Dr. Kirk and her staff had fled. While he respected her decision to do no harm, he didn’t regret his actions.
Well, that wasn’t precisely true. He wished he’d been close enough to stop David from hitting her, but by the time Lachlan had pushed past the man blocking his way, David’s blow had already drawn blood.
Lachlan wanted to check on Dr. Kirk, but did not expect he’d be welcome. He’d violated her code of ethics, placing him in the enemy camp. Tomorrow was soon enough to inform her that she wasn’t rid of him yet. Since she was his best chance at identifying Natchaba, she’d be joining him and Tony on the extraction helicopter, willing or not.
“I reckon we should report in,” Lachlan said. “Then, as Dr. Kirk made it clear we’re not welcome at her bungalow, we might as well bunk here for the night.”
“I saw Dr. Kirk and Leticia wheeling a cart loaded with boxes into the storage closest. It’s possible that’s where the door to the hidden room is.”
“Brilliant.” Finally, they’d get to the bottom of this. “Let’s investigate before we call Kris.”
“Not so fast, Commander. First, let me look at your wounds. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig again.”
Lachlan scowled. “You’re turning into as much of a mother hen as Kris,” he grumbled. But since he didn’t experience the same level of fear when a non-medical professional tended him, he let Tony clean and bandage his wounds again.
“You’re going to have some nice additions to your collection of scars,” Tony commented as he swabbed the wounds with antiseptic.
Lachlan flinched, as much in reaction to the vulnerability of having his teammate see his scars as to the sting of the cleanser. Physical privacy was a luxury during a mission, so all the lads on the team had already seen the scars covering his back. Still, after he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t talk about what had happened, they’d left the matter alone. Until now. Having no intention of breaking his silence, he ignored Tony’s implied question.
Once his own wounds were cleaned and bandaged, Lachlan checked that there was no new bleeding from any of Tony’s wounds or along the neat line of sutures Dr. Kirk had set in his teammate’s leg, swabbed the whole lot with antiseptic, then covered the wounds with fresh bandag
es.
“Look at us,” Tony said as he pulled his shirt back on. “Regular Florence Nightingales, we are.”
Lachlan snorted. “I don’t think Lance need fear for his job just yet. But aye, we’ve done all right for two blokes trained only in emergency field medicine. Now, let’s see about this hidden room.”
The storage closet was next to the staff room. Wooden shelves lined the walls of the storage closet. It took several minutes before Lachlan’s fingers found the indentation just before the right wall met the back wall. He pressed, and a panel slid open, revealing a security keypad. “Did you pack your electronics kit?” Tony had stored his rucksack in the clinic’s shed the night they’d returned from the festival attack. Lachlan hadn’t brought an electronics kit of his own, in case Dr. Kirk or one of her staff searched his bag.
“Yes.”
“Brilliant.” After retrieving the rucksack from the shed, Lachlan plugged a device into the security keypad. Less than a minute later, a light on the keypad flashed green. The back wall of the closest slid aside to reveal a dumbwaiter, a door, and another security keypad. As the door swung open, an overhead light turned on, revealing a steep set of stairs that led to one more security-protected door.
“Stay here,” Lachlan ordered. “I just changed your bandages. I won’t have you breaking your wounds open by attempting the descent on your crutches.”
Eyeing the sharp drop of the risers, Tony nodded. Then he balanced on one crutch and pulled his weapon.
Lachlan held his own weapon in his hand as he descended. Once he’d overridden the security, he toed the door open. More overhead lights went on, revealing a room lined with cabinets, shelves, and counters. Two cots were pushed up against the right wall. The cabinets and shelves held only food and medical supplies. Inside the dumbwaiter sat a cart laden with boxes of files, equipment, and some of the more dangerous medicines. A door at knee level on the far side of the room led to a long, dark tunnel barely tall enough to allow a person to crawl on hands and knees.
