MURDOCK'S LAST STAND

by Beverly Barton

  He cupped her face between his hands. "It was the best damn sex I've ever had."

  "It was for me, too." A stray tear escaped her eyes and hung precariously on the end of her eyelashes.

  Murdock licked the tear off her eyelashes, then covered her face with kisses. "It was more than sex," he admitted. "With you, Cat, it was all my fantasies fulfilled."

  I love you! I love you so much it hurts! she wanted to scream, wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

  "Murdock, I…" she paused. Then deciding not to ruin the moment with words she crawled over on top of him and straddled his hips, letting her breasts dangle over his chest. He kissed her. Thoroughly. Passionately. Wrapping her fantasy up with a perfect pink bow.

  "Thanks, Murdock." She lay down on top of his huge, damp body, her own body small in comparison.

  He stroked her back with tenderness. "Go to sleep now," he said. "I'm going to make love to you again after a while and I want us both rested."

  She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, breathing in the musky scent of the man she adored.

  * * *

  All but one of the lanterns had burned out, leaving the singular light alone to aid the moon in illuminating the tent site. Murdock roused first, waking with a hard-on thumbing against Catherine's hip. She lay at his side, one arm thrown over his hip, her lips almost touching his shoulder.

  He wanted her again. As much as he had hours ago. Maybe more. Yes, definitely more. Now that he knew how good it could be between them. Their time together in Zaraza would end soon—either by their returning to the real world or by a less pleasant fate. Either way, only a few days stood between them and a final separation. He didn't intend to waste one minute of his precious time with her.

  Running his index finger between her breasts and nuzzling her ear, Murdock urged her to awaken. She mumbled and stirred, but didn't open her eyes. Lowering his head, he covered one breast with his open mouth and sucked greedily on her nipple. Her eyelids flew open. She gasped and then smiled.

  "Fantasy time again," he told her.

  Her smile widened as she skimmed her hand over his chest and down his belly, halting before she reached his jutting erection. Before she realized what he was doing, he hauled her up and over on top of him, crushing her breasts into his chest hair.

  "Ride me, Cat." He bucked his hips, then rubbed his sex against her mound.

  "Ah!"

  She sucked in a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then she reared up, bracing herself with her knees. Reaching between their bodies, she circled him, drew him up and into her. She eased her body down over his, impaling herself on his shaft. When he was fully embedded within her, he grasped her hips and lifted her up and down, setting the pace of her ride.

  The feel of him inside her set off rockets of aching need, compelling her into action. Fitting herself around him, exposing her femininity to the strongest amount of friction possible, she rode him frantically. The harder she pounded, the farther her body lowered onto his, until she draped him like a shawl.

  Her breasts dangled over his mouth, tempting him to taste them, and Murdock complied by laying first one and then the other nipple. His ardent attention further stirred her desire. And when he sucked at one nipple and stroked the other with his fingers, she accelerated the pace.

  "That's it, Cat. Harder and faster!"

  When completion claimed her, she cried out from the force of her release. Aftershocks pelted through her nerve endings as Murdock jackhammered into her, renewing her climax and accomplishing his own.

  This was a fantasy, Murdock thought. Nothing could really be this good.

  Catherine sprawled out on top of him, replete, sated beyond her wildest dreams. I'm not living a fantasy, she thought. This is more than a fantasy. Undoubtedly, I've died and gone to heaven.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Morning arrived too soon. Reality set in immediately. The harsh fact of being in a war-ravaged country woke them with the echoes of gunfire. Murdock shot straight up. Early-morning light seeped through the partially open tent flap. He grabbed Catherine.

  "Stay here. I'll go to the pond and get our clothes."

  She nodded that she understood. He rushed out of the tent and went straight to the pond. After gathering up their scattered garments and boots, he scanned the horizon. From what he could tell, a battle had just begun in Celendin. After returning quickly, he flung her shirt and pants at her, then tossed her boots on the ground. They dressed hurriedly, taking no time to tuck in their shirts or close every button.

  Murdock snatched up a blanket lying in the corner of the tent, where he had stashed the two rifles and ammunition belts. He slung the belts over one shoulder and the rifle over the other, then handed Catherine's M-16 to her.

  "Is the village being attacked?" she asked.

  "From what I could see at this distance, I'd say yes, that's exactly what's going on."

  "Benita!" Catherine cried. "And the other children."

  Murdock grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the tent. "Stay with me. We'll go straight to the church to make sure Benita is all right."

  "Thank you," she said, then followed him toward the village.

  They made their way into Celendin, Murdock ever mindful that the unknown faced them around each corner. The doors and windows of every house and building they passed were sealed tight. Shutters closed, doors locked. Only a few chickens and one lone dog roamed the empty streets. As they drew nearer to the church, they saw a group of native men, weapons of various sorts in their hands, congregating in front of the town elder's home.

  When one of the men saw Murdock approaching, he lifted his rifle and shouted a greeting.

  "Stay behind me," Murdock told her.

  They joined the group of about twenty men, Catherine remaining discreetly one step behind Murdock. She listened while Murdock conversed with the leader, making out a word here and there, but not enough to comprehend what was being discussed. Within minutes she realized that Murdock had taken charge and was issuing orders. The men formed four separate groups and quickly dispersed.

  "A small band of rebels, several of them wounded, showed up here about thirty minutes ago," Murdock explained to Catherine. "It seems a squad of Zarazaian soldiers followed them here and now the rebels are trying to hold them off and protect Celendin."

  "What are their chances of holding off the government soldiers?" she asked.

  "Pretty good. It's a small squad. And I've just set a plan into motion." He grasped her shoulders. "I need you to go to the church and wait for me there."

  "No! I want to go with you." She shook her rifle. "I know how to use this thing now. I can fight alongside you."

  He squeezed her shoulders. "I know you can, honey. But I need you at the church. We can't spare a man to guard and protect the children and Father Galtero and Sister Naiara. I'm counting on you doing that for me."

  "Oh. I see."

  "Can you handle this, Cat? If any of the enemy soldiers make it to the church, can you shoot them? Can you kill them?" Clutching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he forced her to look him directly in the eye.

  "Yes. I can do it. To protect the children. To keep Father Galtero and Sister Naiara and those innocent children safe. Yes, I can shoot anyone who tries to harm them. I—I—" her voice cracked "—I can kill, if I have to."

  "Good." He kissed her—hard and quick. "I'll walk you to the church. When you get inside, barricade the doors and don't let anyone inside, unless Father Galtero or Sister Naiara knows who they are and gives you the okay."

  "I understand."

  He saw her safely to the church, where Father Galtero opened the locked door for them. Standing in the open doorway, Murdock draped one of the ammunition belts over her head and across her chest.

  "Remember, if in doubt, shoot first and ask questions later," he told her. "Better to be sorry than dead."

  And then he disappeared. Out the door, down the
steps and around the corner. Quickly, Catherine and Father Galtero locked the doors, then she turned to him and suggested that they shove several of the wooden benches against the door for reinforcement. Once that task was accomplished, she motioned from him to follow her.

  In the back room the orphans huddled together, their dark eyes filled with fear. Sister Naiara came running up to Catherine.

  "Thank our blessed Lord that you are safe," the nun said.

  "Are all the doors locked and the shutters closed?" Catherine asked. "Is there any way someone can get inside the church without bursting through a door or window?"

  "There are no other entrances. Father Galtero and I have secured the doors and windows," Sister Naiara assured her, nodding toward the back door in that room. She gazed at the rifle in Catherine's hand and then at the heavy ammunition belt draped across her body. "You look like a soldier. Has Señor Murdock sent you here for your safety or as our protector?"

  "Both," Catherine said. "I won't let anyone harm you and Father Galtero or the children,"

  "We must pray." Sister Naiara folded her hands together and dropped to her knees,

  The children gathered around the nun, but Benita went straight to Catherine, wrapping her arms around Catherine's leg. She knelt in front of Benita, wrapped one arm around the child and caressed her cheek.

  "I know you don't understand what I'm saying, but I want you to know that I'm going to take care of you."

  Benita laid her hand in the center of her chest and said, "Me—" then she laid her hand on Catherine's chest and said, "—you." She repeated the English words me and you as she moved her hand back and forth from her chest to Catherine's.

  Catherine grabbed the child's hand, stilling it over her heart. She nodded and smiled. "Yes, Benita. You and me. Together. Juntas."

  Minutes ticked by. Hours began to blur together. Time became meaningless. Father Galtero led the children in several songs that temporarily took their minds off the sound of warfare surrounding the church. Sister Naiara insisted on attending to the wounded in the clinic, which was reached by a long hallway that dissected the church building. When Catherine went with her to check the doors and windows, they marched the troop of orphans with them.

  With the doors and windows secured, the noonday heat soon turned the interior into a sweatbox. The children grew restless. Father Galtero gave them all water to drink and distributed a piece of fruit to each child.

  How long could the battle continue? Catherine wondered. Who was winning? And was Murdock all right? She tried not to even consider the possibility that he could be killed. No matter what happened, they would survive! And they'd get out of Zaraza alive and together!

  Only an occasional blast of gunfire sounded in the distance. And the quiet within the church allowed her to hear her own heartbeat. The weary, frightened children sat around on the floor, silent and still. Several had even fallen asleep. Benita sat beside Catherine, huddled against her.

  Suddenly loud shouts outside the back door alerted Catherine to trouble. Although she couldn't understand what the men were bellowing, she could tell by the terrified look on Father Galtero's face that whoever was pounding on the door was an enemy.

  "What are they saying?" she asked.

  "They are demanding that we let them in," the priest told her. "They say if we do not, they will punish us."

  "Take the children and get in that corner—" she pointed the direction "—and stay out of the line of fire."

  He did as she instructed. When Benita refused to leave her, Catherine walked with the child and placed her hand in Father Galtero's. And then they waited. The shouting continued, as did the horrific pounding on the door. The rusted metal hinges began to loosen. The old wooden door cracked under the force of the attack. Catherine took cover behind a heavy wooden table, then knelt, braced the M-16 against her shoulder and prepared herself for battle.

  Two Zarazaian soldiers burst through the door. Catherine sucked in a deep breath. The men began shooting, splintering the wooden furniture and ripping apart the floor. Sister Naiara came running from the clinic. Catherine screamed for her to go back. But not in time. In a knee-jerk reaction, one of the soldiers aimed and fired. Sister Naiara took a bullet in the shoulder, then fainted dead away.

  Huddled in the corner, the children screamed and screamed and screamed. The sound of their fear echoed inside Catherine's head. The moment the two soldiers turned their weapons on the children, Catherine acted purely on instinct. She gunned down the men before they knew what had hit them.

  Trembling from head to toe, tears blurring her vision, she eased the rifle from her bruised shoulder. Father Galtero rushed past her. He dropped to his knees and lifted Sister Naiara into his arms.

  When the children started to move away from the corner, Catherine cried out for them to stay where they were, then realizing they didn't understand her, she held up her hand in a gesture for them to stop. With the door open, they were exposed to the outside world and to all and any dangers. She lifted the rifle and moved hurriedly to block the doorway. Only she and this weapon stood between the children and anyone who might harm them.

  * * *

  When Murdock returned to the church, he found Catherine crouched in the doorway, her hands gripping the M-16 with white-knuckled fierceness. The rebel soldiers who accompanied him stopped dead in their tracks when they saw her.

  "Catherine!"

  "Murdock?"

  "Battle's over," he shouted. "We held the village and put the government boys on the run."

  She wanted to get up and rush to him, to throw her arms around his neck, to kiss his face and tell him she was glad they'd both survived. But she couldn't move.

  Murdock dropped to his knees beside her and prized the M-16 from her hands. "You can let go now, honey. It's all right."

  When he laid the rifle down beside her, she toppled over into his arms. He wrapped her securely in his embrace and kissed her forehead. "Was it bad, Cat?"

  "I—I killed two men." She gripped his shirtfront. "They shot Sister Naiara. They would have shot the children!"

  "You did what you had to do," he told her, rubbing her back.

  Scanning the room, Catherine searched for the nun. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that Sister Naiara was sitting up and smiling weakly at Father Galtero. "How is she?"

  "She will be all right," the priest said. "The bullet went through her shoulder."

  "Come on." Murdock grabbed Catherine's arm. "Let me get you up on your feet. We have to leave in a few minutes."

  She stared at him questioningly. "What do you mean we have to leave?"

  Lifting her to her feet, he supported her by draping one arm around her waist. "Vargas is hooking up with this band of rebels. We've already missed our chance to connect with Vincente in Yanahuara, so our best bet of catching up with him is to go with these men. They're joining up with the rest of the rebel army before they march on San Carlos."

  "What about Benita?" Catherine asked.

  "We can't take her with us. She's safer here."

  "Is she?"

  "The war is moving downriver," he explained. "General Ramos's army is preparing to defend the capital. I doubt there will be any more troop movements through Celendin."

  "How long … how much time do we have before we leave?"

  "Ten or fifteen minutes. The troops are preparing to move out."

  "I'm going to find a way to get Benita out of this country," Catherine said. "Somehow, someway. I'm going to bring her to the United States."

  "Sure you will, honey." He soothed her with his agreement, but in the back of his mind a niggling doubt remained. What were the odds that little Benita would ever leave Zaraza?

  * * *

  An hour later, Catherine and Murdock marched with the rebel troops, who hacked their way through the jungle when necessary, followed the winding paths by the river and took whatever existing roads they could find. By midafternoon they stopped in Yanahuara, a village half the size of C
elendin. They were offered bread and water by the natives and rested there for half an hour before their leader resumed the journey. Before nightfall the band of rebels with whom Catherine and Murdock traveled joined with two other troops, all following the trail Vincente Sabino was blazing toward the capital city.

  Conspicuously American, Catherine and Murdock's presence had to be repeatedly explained, usually by Lieutenant Vargas. Every time Murdock tried to tell them that he needed to get an urgent message to Sabino, he was asked to relay that message through the officers. But Murdock insisted that what he had to say to Sabino had to be delivered personally. He soon realized that, unfortunately, the more he tried to convince them that his seeing Sabino was a life-or-death matter, the more they distrusted him.

  "I've tried giving them as much information as I dare," Murdock told Catherine as they sat beneath a palm tree, just out of hearing range of the nearest soldiers, and ate the meager rations they'd been given for supper. "Vargas got me in to see Captain Delgado—" Murdock pointed to the row of three tents, in which the leaders of each rebel faction resided for the night "—and I think I finally convinced the man that I'd once fought with Juan Sabino."

  "Then he'll help us, won't he?" Catherine leaned her head back against the tree trunk.

  "Only if I share my information with him first," Murdock said. "And there's no way I can risk trusting anyone, not even the captain. Domingo Sanchez may intend to act alone, but he's bound to have sympathizers in the rebel army. I have no way of knowing who those people might be. Besides, there's a good chance that if I trusted Delgado and told him about the assassination plot, he wouldn't believe that Vincente's most trusted bodyguard plans to kill him."

  "Is there any way we can go off on our own, leave the camp tonight, and try to reach Vincente Sabino without anyone's help?"

  "We have to follow the rebel army," he told her. "They know the exact route Sabino is taking and we're not more than half a day behind. If we go out on our own and try to catch up with Sabino, the guards around his camp will shoot us on sight. The only way we can get to Sabino is with an introduction."