by Low, Gennita
Ahead, Kit was yanking open the door to a van and sliding inside. Lucas sped up even more. The few seconds it took for her to turn on the engine gave him just enough time to reach the other side, pull the passenger door open, and jump in. She stepped on the accelerator and turned to him.
“Sean, we have to—” Her eyes rounded at the sight of him, her jaw dropping.
“Cupcake,” Lucas said. He reached out and turned her face toward the windshield. “Keep your eyes on the road or you’ll hit some kid.”
There was a slight pause as she adjusted her speed. “Lucas? What are you doing here?”
“I can ask you the same thing but obviously you’re in fucking disguise as Wonder Woman.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
The truck ahead was heedlessly speeding off, not even honking at anyone in its way. People were jumping to the left and right to avoid being hit. At least that gave their vehicle some leeway to speed up too.
“Wonder Woman?” Kit repeated.
“Yeah, you think you can deflect bullets with your wrist bands? What the fuck were you thinking, running after that truck? Those guys have weapons, or haven’t you noticed?”
The van bounced violently as it ran over a big rut in the road. Lucas put a hand on the dashboard to prevent his head from hitting the windshield.
“I don’t know. They weren’t shooting at me, anyhow. Just at the ground or in the air so people wouldn’t interfere.”
Lucas shook his head. “How do you know that? And what are you doing now?”
Kit gave him a brief glance. “Can’t you tell? I’m chasing after the truck!”
“You have no plan!” Lucas yelled back. “What are you going to do, follow them home?”
In reply, Kit sped up, closing in on the truck ahead. They were out of the camp site and Lucas could see they were heading towards the mountain trails.
“If they’re going into the mountains, they have to stop somewhere for horses,” she told him stubbornly.
They were indeed making their way very quickly up the trails into the mountains.
“And then what? Are you going to ask them politely for the girl and have them nicely hand her over to you?’ Lucas asked.
“I don’t know! I needed to do something! What would you have done? Let them take her?”
“That’s different.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m a man and I have weapons.”
“Yeah, I’m a woman and I have weapons too. Big deal.”
He felt like pulling his hair out. The woman had no concept of danger. She sped up even more as the truck ahead kept going at breakneck speed away from the village camp. Higher and higher they climbed. He had to stop her or they were really going to be out of reach, and they were only two against a truck of angry men. He was about to yell something caustic at her when his attention was diverted by the flap at the back of the truck opening up. A figure appeared. He steadied himself in the speeding vehicle as he adjusted a weapon held high against his body.
“Oh, fuck,” Lucas said quietly.
It was unmistakable what it was. Lucas had carried one numerous times. A lightweight grenade launcher.
“RPG! RPG ahead!” Conditioned by his training, he yelled out. It was reflexive—usually, he had his team or a bunch of men around him who would be expecting shouts alerting them of danger ahead. He realized his mistake instantly, how useless his grim warning was. He was all alone with a civilian female. Kit wouldn’t understand what to do next.
He reached out to grab the steering wheel, but found her shoulder instead. He turned his attention from the guy in the truck. Kit was leaning all the way forward, eyes staring straight ahead. The van’s engine revved as she floored the accelerator.
“HOO-YAHHHhhhh!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
Lucas stared at her, then grinned. Love sure had lousy timing. He turned back to face death instead.
They were so close he could see the tribal man’s face broke out into a sneer as he took aim. Another stupid thought whooshed by in his head. Death was coming fast and furious, baby.
Smoke from the grenade leaving the launcher.
The longest second in his life went by.
Then, a horrendous crunch as metal met metal, a high-pitched grind as their speeding vehicle took the hit and their bodies absorbed the shock of the impact. He could hear the tires and brakes squealing as the vehicle swerved out of control. Kit swore a blue streak as she tried to get it back in control. They swayed from one side to the other, and he could have sworn the damn van was on two wheels at one point.
He gritted his teeth as they went airborne, then landed like a pile of junkyard metal back onto the road. The acrid smell of wires burning filled the air. The van careened out of control, finally coming to a grinding halt, facing the direction they’d just come from.
Silence.
Lucas found his hand still gripping Kit’s shoulder. Hers were still clutching the wheel for dear life, her knuckles showing white. They were both panting hard, as if they had been running a marathon. His own heart thumped painfully against his chest and it took an effort to unclench his hand that was holding her so tightly.
He slowly, deliberately, wiped off the bead of sweat trickling down the side of his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m thinking we didn’t get killed with that hare-brained move.”
The grenade did hit them. He felt it. Which made them sitting here, still in one piece, an impossibility.
“It worked.” She turned. Her big smile would have lightened up a dark night. She put her arms around his neck. “It worked! It worked, it worked, it worked!”
“Stop bouncing the damn vehicle, babe. It’s likely to explode,” Lucas said. Much as he wanted to celebrate, there was still a grenade embedded in the van. “Let’s get out…slowly.”
When they stepped out to the front of the car, Lucas whistled. Half the small grenade was stuck right into the front grill.
“Fuck,” was all he could say.
“It was a gamble,” Kit breathed out. “He was high on a speeding truck and aiming down at us. If I drove the car near enough, the grenade wouldn’t have the necessary rotations in the air to achieve its velocity. It would either bounce off us or…”
She waved at the sight of the grenade sticking out.
“How did you know what to do?” Lucas asked, a little awed at how calm she was.
“My brother is a fucking Airborne Ranger, that’s how,” she said, then broke into a laugh. “Listening to his buddies and him telling war stories paid off!”
Right in the middle of nowhere at the Pakistani-Afghan border, arms crossed, Lucas watched as Kit started to do a victory war dance, as if she’d just made a touch down in a game of football. She was covered in dirt from head to toe. There was a backpack half-hanging off her back. One shoe was gone, so the dance was actually sort of a limpy jiggle.
He was so going to marry this woman some day.
PART THREE
Chapter Ten
‡
He looked yummy in uniform.
What a stupid thing to think about at this moment.
Kit couldn’t help it. He looked so damn good—all big and tough, dirty and savage. That glint in his eyes that always made her imagine doing naughty things to his body. He was larger than live and she wanted to kiss him so badly.
She looked away, trying to gather her wayward thoughts. They had just witnessed a miracle. She shouldn’t tempt fate twice and get distracted by her hormones. Hopefully, there would be time to do all that later. But right now, they had a problem. She looked in the driver’s side window and retrieved her shoe.
“This thing is dead,” she said, as they circled the damaged van. “I don’t have my cell phone anymore. You?”
“Nope. But what I want to know is, how come you’re here? I thought you were back home.”
She still couldn’t believe they had been texting each other in the same country. He must have some
sort of secret program that gave a default location because whenever she tried to find out where he was texting from, it always gave the location as Langley. Yeah, right. She had so believed that. But still, she hadn’t suspected he would be so close.
“I told you I was at work,” she told him.
“As a public info officer, starting a new project.”
“Yeah, well, this is the new project. I’m with a team interviewing female victims of the tribal warfare in this area.” She stopped pacing and turned to look up the road. “We have to find a way to go after Minah. She’s only thirteen and is being forced to marry some stupid warlord. Those men are from her tribe. The one who pulled her away from my arms was her brother. She told me when she caught sight of him.”
It had been scary inside the smoke-filled building. She had been a lot more frightened in there than just now, in the truck. The smoke and ensuing panic were disorienting and it didn’t help she was unfamiliar with her surroundings. And then Minah’s relatives had shown up and went for them—well, Minah, really, but she wasn’t going to give her up without a fight. That was a losing battle, though, with her holding on to a mere child while fighting off two big thugs. Joanna helped by smashing one of the guys on the head with a picture from the wall, but Hamidah and Minah were just too frightened to do anything.
“I see. My commander’s wife was going to meet with her to help her.”
Kit turned back in surprise. “What?” Minah never mentioned that. “Nobody said anything. I was under the impression she didn’t have anyone to turn to.”
What was a bunch of SEALs doing here picking up a young village kid, anyway? Minah mentioned a skirmish of some sort that had allowed her to escape. Were Lucas and his team involved?
“Don’t know. We were heading to the comptroller’s office when we smelled the fire and then heard all the commotion. Come on, let’s get off the main road. I don’t trust those guys not to turn their truck around. Let’s walk down the road a bit.”
“I can’t leave this van. It has all my team’s stuff in it. Equipment, maybe even important papers.”
Lucas spread his arms. “We can’t stay out here in the open. I’m in uniform and you’re a lone female. We’re in Taliban-controlled territory.”
He was right, of course. If they were seen together by the wrong people, they would either be shot at or taken hostage. Kit looked at the van, trying to remember all the things she’d left inside.
“Well, at least let me gather stuff like passports and the weapons.”
He cocked his head and gave her a long look. “Weapons. You have guns in there?”
Kit snorted. “Of course. Not big weapons. Just some stuff to defend ourselves with in case things get rough.”
Lucas shook his head. “Cupcake, I don’t think I like you at this job.”
Kit opened the door of the van. “Oh, please, we’re in Pakistan. Or Afghanistan, depending on which inch of dirt you happen to be standing on. They have border wars all the time. Do you want me to walk around without protection?”
“The point is, you shouldn’t be walking around here at all.”
Kit rolled her eyes. “What, you want me to walk around at home in the kitchen?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
She glared at him, her temper rising.
“Next you’d want me to wear a burqa and not show myself in public,” she said. “That’s precisely the male attitude that started this. Women are oppressed all over the world because men want to tell them where and when to walk, and marry.”
All of Minah’s words during the interview came back, refreshing all her previous feelings of anger and helplessness at the young girl’s fate. Damn if she was going to let a man—even a hunk in uniform like Lucas Branson—tell her what to do.
“I don’t need to deal with another male chauvinist pig,” she told him. “Not at this moment.”
*
Male chauvinist pig! What the hell! He was concerned about her safety. She was talking about taking up weapons and fighting fucking war-seasoned tribal lords who wouldn’t think twice about blowing themselves and even their women up just to make a point.
“You’re being unreasonable,” Lucas said. “I’m not telling you about when and where to walk. Just not… here. It’s dangerous here.”
“To everyone!”
“Yes, but to women in particular. A lady can get herself killed running around here!”
She stopped stuffing her backpack. She took a deep breath, then straightened to her full height. She obviously thought that wasn’t enough because she kicked over a small plastic stool that had fallen out of the van and stood up on it. Now they were almost at eye level.
“I’m going to cuss at you in very unladylike terms in a few seconds.”
He grinned. “That’s funny. Are you going to be carrying a stool around with you all the time so you can cuss at me to my face? You look cute when you’re mad.”
She leaned close. “One, you don’t get to call me cute when I’m mad at you. Two, you don’t get to order me around at all. I can fly off to wherever I want and you can’t stop me.”
Lucas frowned down at Kit. The woman just refused to be reasonable. “Oh, yeah?” Putting his hands on her waist, he lifted her off the stool a few inches. “Try flying now, Wonder Woman.”
He’d expected her to kick out at him. Instead, she just lifted a dark brow. “Your big size doesn’t intimidate me at all. I refuse to hurt you in the balls because I have use for them later.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. She had a way of handling him that few did. She made him laugh.
“What am I going to do with you?” He wondered out loud. He still couldn’t believe she was here, right in front of him.
“I have plenty of suggestions, but the most pressing one was to get important stuff out of the van and head downhill so we could get back to the camp.”
She was right, of course. Why did women have a way of making things so complicated? Disappear into the trails, hike down the hill, get somewhere he could make contact with his team. Instead, he was out in broad daylight with a hard-on telling Wonder Woman what to do. Giving the surroundings a quick check, he lifted her up for a quick kiss before reluctantly setting her back on her feet.
“I’m sure my commander and teammates will be along once the fire and the crowd are under control. There can’t be that many dirt roads off the main one. They’ll take the one with the freshest tire marks or witnesses might tell them,” he told her.
She licked her lips and smiled before turning back to the task at hand. He stood outside, keeping guard as well as watching her ass longingly as she crawled around the inside, pulling things out from under the seat pockets. He really, really wanted to just get into the van and close the door.
“Hopefully, Sean would follow them in his vehicle. Then we could get back here to unload the rest of the stuff before they disappear.” She sighed. “I think that’s all I can stuff into the backpack and this bag.”
Lucas took the bag from her. “You purposely chose a pink one,” he accused.
She grinned back mischievously. “Revenge is sweet, Cucumber dearest. I know how to deal with macho military men.”
Lucas shook his head. Cucumber dearest. That had to be a first. She’d better not ever use that in front of the guys. Not that he could say that, or she probably would. He should have remembered, but things happened so fast just now, what with the fire, suddenly having Kit at his side, and not to mention, staring a grenade coming at one’s face. Handling his sister taught him the first no-no thing about women was not to tell them to not do anything. Because they would go ahead and do it just to show you they could.
Damn, but he couldn’t wait to show the guys the photo Kit took of that grenade inside the grill. Holy frog’s hair, but that was close. He couldn’t believe they had both lived to see another day. He glanced at the woman walking by his side. She was something else. Not one sign of stress on that pretty face at
all. The guys would never believe what she did. He wished he could kiss her again—not a peck like just now, but a long, satisfying sensual exploration—just to convince himself all this was actually happening.
She looked at him. “What’s the matter with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re staring at me and grabbing at your side like you have a stitch.” She pointed. “Are you hurt?”
“Huh?” He looked down. Sure enough, he’d unconsciously been pressing his hand to his side. He turned it over. “What the…”
“You’re bleeding!” She exclaimed, coming to a stop. “I can’t tell with all the stains on you. Are you badly injured?”
“I’m fine,” he told her. He frowned at the dampness in his hand. “The stitches must have broken, that’s all.”
His wound ached a little, just a slight cramp. He hadn’t even noticed it until now.
“Stitches? What happened?”
Lucas shrugged. “Just a little cut. Let’s walk on. It’s really no big deal.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “A cut from what? Did one of the tribal men slash you last night when you raided their peace offering ceremony?”
He stopped walking and grabbed her elbow. “How the hell did you know what happened?” he demanded.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m an investigative reporter. I know these things.”
“You don’t know anything.” He shook her arm. “Not a damn thing gets out in print or media, you hear me?”
She frowned. “I can’t promise that.”
“Kit, I’m serious here. You can’t report that. Stick to your women’s right stuff, but leave our raid out of it.”
“How am I going to do that? It’s part of the story of how she escaped,” she pointed out.
Lucas was at a loss for words. This was serious, but how could he explain to her without revealing more information? He’d never been any good at expressing himself in a diplomatic way.
“You can’t write about it and not expect consequences,” he said.
