by Liz Johnson
They all spun toward the daunting steel gates below a stucco arch. Two men on either side leaned their shoulders against the metal and shoved, grunting until the wheels at their feet budged.
Will threw a protective arm in front of Jess and she hopped back three steps, as two covered military transport vehicles squeezed through the opening, rolled across the courtyard and stopped just to the right of the big house.
Weapons bouncing across their chests, Manuel and Sergio jogged over to greet the drivers, clapping their backs, then peering over the tailgates at whatever bounty the trucks carried.
Jess glanced up at Will, whose eyes had narrowed in on the reunion. He remained impossibly still, and she almost missed his quiet words.
“They’re going to unload the trucks this afternoon, and they’ll leave early in the morning.”
“How do you—” She stopped herself as a muscle in his neck jumped, his jaw clenching as his eyes followed the back-and-forth shouts of the men.
“They’re going to get drunk this afternoon, sleep it off and go wheels-up before first light.” Again he gave no outward indication that he was speaking to her, but his voice rang with something akin to excitement. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, just filled with anticipation.
She tried to make her body mimic his ease, but her hands fluttered aimlessly as she tried to find a natural-looking pose. Finally she shoved them into her pockets and refused to let go of the fabric there. “What are they carrying?”
His deep brown eyes shifted toward her. “It doesn’t really matter what they have now. When they leave, they’ll be taking us with them.”
*
“How are we going to get on those trucks?”
At the squeak of Jess’s voice, Will forced himself to stay still, leaving his hands and arms hanging loosely at his sides. The weight of her gaze was heavier than a flak jacket, but he schooled his features, once again looking aloof and perhaps even disinterested. If they were going to make it on one of those trucks, they couldn’t afford to draw any extra attention from the guards. Not Manuel and Sergio, and certainly not the line of men strolling near the front gate, their semiautomatics resting too comfortably against their shoulders.
Jess must have picked up on his stance, for her shoulders relaxed a fraction and she took a deep breath through her nose.
“We won’t leave without the toxin.” Only the left side of her mouth moved, and if he hadn’t been so close, he would have missed her words. “Right?”
“I promised, didn’t I?”
“Yes, well…” Her clipped words nearly dripped icicles in the jungle. “Your promises haven’t always meant much.”
He deserved that. Absolutely. But he’d hoped that maybe she’d forgotten his last broken promise. Or at least that she’d put aside her hostility long enough for them to get beyond these walls and to the United States Embassy in Panama City.
Really, he thought they’d been doing fairly well. After all, she’d slept while he guarded her door. He could tell just by the thinning of the bags beneath her eyes. And she’d agreed to pretend she didn’t know him. She’d done a fine job playing the part. So why the terse words now?
His stomach rumbled, calling out for some of the spilled breakfast they’d both been forced to skimp on.
Maybe he wasn’t the only one wishing they hadn’t left behind half of their meals.
Hunger had always made Jess a little bit ornery.
He reminded himself that it wasn’t her fault that he’d proved himself untrustworthy. He’d promised to pick her up, and he hadn’t. Instead he’d disappeared. Completely vanished from her life. It had just been so much easier than facing pain he couldn’t explain and fear he didn’t fully understand.
Sal had given Jess a promise ring, and Will had given her broken promises.
If anyone else had proposed to Jess, Will would have figured out a way to voice the turmoil that warred inside of him at the very thought of losing her. On their last night together, so many years ago, he would have spoken up and told her the truth. He might have been too young and foolish to put a voice to exactly how he felt about her, but he’d have done anything to keep her in his life.
Anything except betraying Sal.
His only brother. His oldest friend. His rescuer.
Almost ten months before he proposed to Jess, Sal had single-handedly saved Will from a senior year of misery and regret.
With one word—one sacrifice—Sal gave up his freedom for Will’s. Whatever distance the years had placed between them, Will wouldn’t forget that.
He’d known ten years ago that he couldn’t step on his brother’s chance for happiness, so he’d done the only thing he knew to do. He had run.
That wasn’t Jess’s fault.
It wasn’t her fault, either, that she wasn’t around when he’d gotten his life on track. When L.T. and Rock had convinced him that being a man of honor and faith was better than carousing through San Diego bars. When he’d taken their encouragement and used it to propel himself through BUD/S training. When he’d received his trident pin, become a SEAL. A man of valor.
As Sergio marched toward them, his mouth twisted in an angry scowl, Will knew there wasn’t time to tell her the whole story, even if she was willing to hear him out.
Taking a deep breath, he whispered only what he could promise her in that moment. “You can trust me now.”
Fire in her eyes said she didn’t entirely believe him, but it disappeared immediately and she turned an indifferent expression on their guards, who yelled for them to change direction and march toward the lab. Will fell into a shuffling step beside Jess, his feet dragging through the brown puddles that dotted the courtyard. Her pace quickly outstripped his, and he thought she was going to abandon him to the sour-faced guards. Just as she reached the point where slowing down to walk with him again would have been overly obvious, her shoulders relaxed. Taking three small steps, she let him catch up without drawing undo attention.
He gave her a silent nod, and she pinched her lips into a straight line, clearly not convinced that she should get on a transport with him to only God knew where.
He couldn’t blame her.
But at the moment, it could be their only chance of escape, and he wasn’t about to let it pass them by.
The inside of the lab was as visually cold as it was physically hot, and he glanced at the countertop refrigerator. At least it was still keeping the toxin cool and contained. Jess’s gaze traveled in the same direction as though confirming that no one had tampered with the lethal powder during the night.
But if what she’d said about the Morsyni was true and someone had opened it in the dark hours, then none of them would have made it through the night.
Down the long alley between the barracks, back in front of the big house, the truck drivers were unloading their cargo with enough exuberance to draw the attention of every man in the area. Including Sergio and Manuel.
The lab door slammed as the guards went out to watch, leaving their two captives alone. Jess stared up at Will with unblinking eyes. Her pupils grew wider until they almost eclipsed the surrounding green, the questions there heavy and unspoken.
“We don’t know if we’re going to get another chance to escape,” he whispered.
“Do you know where we are? Or what direction we need to go? Or even where the trucks are headed once they get beyond the wall?”
Her words rubbed at the same sore spot he’d been worrying since the trucks had rumbled through the gates.
“Not exactly.” That was a partial truth at best. Honestly, he had no intel, no map, no communication with the outside world. Best-case scenario meant escaping on the truck, jumping off at an unknown location and humping into the jungle with nothing more than their clothes for cover and the stars to guide them.
The worst case meant a broken promise to not only Jess but also Captain McCoy.
But no matter how dangerous it would be to leave, it would be riskier to stay. Riskier for them, and for the thousa
nds who would be killed if the drug lord had his way.
Jess rubbed her hands together before smoothing them over the counter, her gaze swinging around the work area as though she was looking for something—anything else—to focus on. “That wasn’t very convincing.”
He took a step closer to her, purposefully invading her space. Maybe then she’d look up at him and read his face and the truth there. He wouldn’t let her down.
She didn’t move.
Hunting for the words, Will took a long breath. “It’s not the…ideal scenario.” She grunted at his understatement. “But it’s all we’ve got. I’d give my own truck for rations, a map of this area and an arrow pointing to Panama City. But there’s no chance of getting any of those things.”
Jabbing a finger toward the front of the compound, he continued. “Right now, we have a chance to get clear of that wall and away from these men, who I might remind you are planning on killing you and me, and plenty of other people, too. I’m not willing to risk your life on the chance that another opportunity and a map are going to show up in the next five days.”
“You have a truck?”
Her change in topic nearly caused him whiplash.
She still didn’t make eye contact, and her voice stayed low as she added, “The red four-wheel drive you always wanted?”
“Why?”
Finally she looked up, and he could again read her thoughts clearly in her eyes.
Once, they’d been inseparable. She’d known him like no one else. She’d known his plans and ambitions—right down to the model and color of the truck he’d dreamed of buying. Now they were little more than strangers, and it felt like a knife wound to the stomach.
She hitched a breath and squinted until her nose wrinkled. “I was just wondering if maybe you’re not so different from the boy I knew.”
He couldn’t tell her how much he hoped that wasn’t true. He wasn’t that stupid, selfish kid anymore.
And once he got her safely back to San Diego, maybe he could prove it to her. Maybe they could be friends again. Maybe they could resume some of that special bond they’d enjoyed.
Of course, it could never be just like it had been. He could never let himself get that close to her again. Even if she forgave him for disappearing, and wanted to spend hours together just talking. Even if he could explain why he’d had to leave. Even if she understood. Because if he let himself get close to her, he’d fall in love all over again.
And he’d never do that to Sal.
At the last family dinner Will had been able to attend, Sal had mentioned her. Just in passing, really. But the light in Sal’s eyes at her memory had been brighter than a ship’s beacon. His feelings were still strong.
Will wouldn’t risk hurting his brother.
Something flickered in Jess’s eyes just before she looked away, and he felt as if he’d lost his anchor.
Stepping back, he cleared his throat. “I’m not that same kid.”
“I hope you’re right.” Her words were clipped, and her hands roamed the counter for something to keep her busy. She began unpacking the nearest box, stacking old tear gas canisters along the edge. “So when do we leave?”
“Be ready as soon as the compound goes to sleep.”
She nodded as he slipped across the room, an eye always on the lab door. He picked up a jug of distilled water as though it was precious cargo, keeping his steps even and unhurried just in case their guards returned.
“What are you doing?” she murmured.
He nodded toward the window. “We have to have a way to get back in here tonight so we can retrieve the toxin.” Will climbed onto the counter below the tiny glass pane, careful not to let his head reach above the sill in case someone was watching from the outside. Drawing suspicion meant drawing extra guards.
And they already had too many eyes following their every move.
With two fingers, he pressed on the window. It didn’t budge, just like he’d thought. He added two more, pushing again. If he could just get it to rotate on its central hinge…but the thing probably hadn’t been opened in ages—if ever. And years of jungle rains and splattering mud hadn’t helped the situation. Making a fist, he used the edge of his hand to smack the base of the window.
It popped open with a creak just as the lab door swung into the room.
In one swift motion he dropped to the floor, snatched the water off the counter and walked toward the corner, where a five-gallon jug sat on a swiveling pedestal. Glancing up, he met Manuel’s gaze as the guard sauntered inside, his eyes glinting with distrust above the red bandanna tied over his mouth and nose. His gas mask hung useless around his neck. The barrel of his ever-ready weapon flickered toward Will, as their eyes locked in a brief, wordless warning.
Will poured the distilled water into the larger container before ambling back toward Jess. Never once did he break eye contact with Manuel. It was out of character for the role Will played, but the tension in the guard’s grip on the gun made the hair on Will’s arms stand on end.
With an unhurried step, he slipped into place beside Jess, helping her unpack another box filled with a hodgepodge of equipment. But he didn’t dare look down.
A sudden downpour struck their building as a jungle storm raged overhead. Sergio jumped into the room, swearing loudly and mumbling about how much he disliked his assignment and how much Juan Carlos was going to owe them when he got back.
The rain seemed insistent on getting inside, and Will shot a quick glance at the window he’d just opened. If it leaked and the guards noticed…
Jess’s eyes followed his, and her lips turned white. Her nostrils flared, as if she was asking what he was going to do about it.
He nodded, brief and tight.
But there was no subtle way to close the window, so he set about pulling a rubber hose and more tear gas containers out of his box.
Jess’s next box was filled with cleaning supplies, and when she was about halfway through emptying it, she glanced at the back wall and promptly kicked his ankle.
His stomach lurched with the realization that their escape plan was on display unless he could keep Sergio and Manuel distracted. Risking a look behind him to check out the damage, he spotted the narrow stream of water running from the corner of the window down the wall.
Suddenly, the two guards stopped their constant arguing, and the weight of their gazes landed heavily on Will’s shoulders. He whipped around, calming the knot in his stomach.
“How are we supposed to empty these canisters?” he asked.
Sergio cocked his head as though trying to understand, but his forehead and lips wrinkled. Manuel didn’t even pretend to try. Instead he sauntered toward them, pointing his chin at the materials littering the tabletop.
“Why is it taking so long?” he asked in Spanish. “When do you open up the Morsyni?”
Jess had caught the last word, and apparently guessed what was being asked. Letting out a sigh, she said, “Time. It takes time.”
The guard frowned and slammed a palm on the counter, apparently understanding enough English to dislike her answer. “But there’s two of you now.”
Grumbling as she held up an outdated scale, Jess didn’t bother to respond. Instead, she picked up a stoppered vial, walked over to the sink and poured something brown and chunky down the drain, wrinkling her nose as she did.
Sergio covered his own nose and grunted, and Will was tempted to do the same.
A sudden quiet descended as the driving winds and rain of the monsoon moved on, leaving only the wheezing of the air conditioner. Manuel looked at Sergio for a long moment before he announced, “Vámanos.”
When the two guards stepped out of the lab, Will checked the back wall. The water trail had stopped growing, and would likely vanish by the time Manuel and Sergio returned. Will’s shoulders relaxed. They’d been able to distract them this time, but they might not be so lucky the next.
He and Jess had to be on that transport.
*
Spicy rice and black beans from dinner rolled over and over in Jess’s stomach as she leaned against the wall beside her door. Will had told her to eat as much as she could, because he didn’t know when they’d have another chance. And then he’d reminded her to be ready as soon as the compound went to sleep. She had heard the telltale sounds of men moving toward their barracks nearly an hour before. Slamming doors, drunken shouts and rumbling voices had faded at least thirty minutes ago.
Still Will didn’t show.
Jess pressed her fists into her eye sockets, swallowing down the bitterness that threatened to push her to the floor. She’d waited for him another time—the morning after she’d told him of Sal’s proposal.
But Will said he was different now. He’d said she could count on him. That he’d get her out of here.
Clearly, her dad trusted him. After all, he’d handpicked this particular SEAL to send to her aid. So why wasn’t Will where he said he’d be?
The lock popped and her door swung in, just enough for the shadow of a head and shoulders to appear around the corner. Will’s eyes narrowed on her and he jerked his head toward the courtyard. “Let’s go.”
Suspicion fought with the urge to trust him, but whether she was ready to rely on him or not, she knew this was her best chance of survival. She forced herself to take a step and then another.
She trailed behind Will through the shadows and down an alley between her building and the snoring that drifted from the neighboring barracks. They crossed behind the big house, which had lights still on in one of the upstairs rooms. Will grabbed her hand and tugged. She was so close she could smell the soap he’d used on his hair.
Suddenly her foot disappeared into a puddle, and she grunted at the flood in her shoe.
Will didn’t slow down, but peeked over his shoulder and squeezed her hand. His nod seemed to ask if everything was all right, and she answered with a quick bob of her own head.
Shadows loomed before them as they dashed along the base of the security wall. When they reached the corner, they turned with it. Will never eased his pace, even as the silence pressed down on them.
Jess risked a glance up at one of the guard towers. “Do you think someone’s in there tonight?”
