by Dana Marton
The closer she got to them the slower she went, until inch by inch she finally reached the edge of a clearing and, laying under a shiny-leaved bush, she was able to see the men. There were a lot of them. She counted about a hundred. Were the various groups uniting?
Then someone she recognized stepped into the clearing, and her heart tripped. Omar.
She watched as he talked to a couple of the men, then walked around. She inched forward another foot to see where he was going. And then she saw Brian.
Oh, God. The emotions that washed through her at the sight were strong enough to take her breath away. What had they done to him? He was hanging by his tied hands from a tree, his feet barely touching the ground. His pants on one leg were completely soaked in blood, and his face was bloody, too, on the right side. She watched helplessly, with fury screaming inside, as Omar walked over to him and smashed the butt of his rifle against Brian’s ribs.
He didn’t cry out. Instead, he lifted his head an inch or two and looked right at her.
Could he see her? She scooted back. If Brian could spot her, then so could the others. Not that anyone was looking hard. The men were eating and talking, lounging around camp as if they didn’t have a care in the world. No doubt they thought there was safety in their number.
Omar hit Brian over and over, then stopped to talk to him. She wished she could hear what he said as he played with the rifle. There was such a look of madness in his face.
He was going to kill Brian, she realized, and grabbed her pistol, closing one eye and concentrating on her aim. She pulled back what she thought was the safety and steadied her hand. There was a better-than-good chance that she was going to miss, but even if all she managed to do was cause a distraction, it could give Brian enough time to break free.
But just as she put her finger on the trigger, a hand came over her mouth, another pulled the pistol from her, the weight of a man pressing her to the ground.
Her first instinct was to struggle, but her brain kicked in on time and she held still. If a guerilla discovered her, he wouldn’t have held her mouth. He wouldn’t have cared if she made noise.
The army?
She glanced back at the clearing to see if they’d noticed anything and her blood froze. Omar had turned the rifle around and was resting the barrel against Brian’s temple. He was still talking to him.
The man half on top of her tugged her back, and she moved with him. He let go of her mouth, and she could turn at last to look at him. A soldier. It was the army. They were finally here.
“Are you the American?” he asked when they were at a safe distance.
“You have to save that man,” she said, and saw the rest of the soldiers.
The man gave them a signal and they moved ahead without a sound.
“You stay here. I’ve got many questions for you when I get back,” he said, and went after them.
Brian was tied up, immobile and defenseless in the middle of a shootout. And she was going to sit here and wait? Unlikely.
Audrey rushed back toward the camp, circling it, hoping to reach the other side and Brian in time. She didn’t have to be careful about noise now, the sound of gunfire was deafening in the air. Didn’t have to worry about wild animals, either. The ruckus was sure to scare them far away from the place. She ran as fast as she could.
Omar came out of the bushes at a dead run, looking backward, barreling right into her, sending them both sprawling to the ground. She grunted, the air knocked out of her lungs by the impact, struggled to get up and get away from him. But he made it to his feet first and had his knife pulled from his belt the next second.
“Move.” He dragged her up with the blade to her throat and yanked her forward, deeper into the jungle.
“No. Wait.” She fought him, her hands on the arm that held the knife, but he was the stronger one between the two of them. “You can go faster without me. You don’t need me.”
But then as he sunk to his knee, she realized he was injured. Blood gushed from his side above the right hip. And still, he kept a good strong grip on her.
He probably knew he wasn’t going to get far and wanted to use her as a shield when the army caught up with him. It wasn’t the army that reached them first.
“Let her go.” Brian stepped out from behind a tree. He had to be weak with blood loss, too, but he showed no sign of it.
His eyes were as cold as the blade Omar held against her throat, and the predatory flow with which he moved, closer and closer, more menacing than the tiger had been. She felt Omar shift behind her.
“Come one step closer and she’s dead,” he said.
“She gets as much as nicked and I’ll tear you apart from limb to limb.” Brian’s gaze was fixed on the man, his voice so deadly, it made her shiver despite the heat.
She’d seen him in rough-soldier mode before, but she’d never seen him like this. He was tightly controlled, yet there was a glint of madness in his gaze, a ferocious darkness.
The blade pressed against her skin. She didn’t dare move when Omar tightened his hold on her. He was breathing hard and sweating, not nearly as confident now that Brian wasn’t tied up and helpless before him.
Brian advanced on them, the sight as paralyzing as that of the tiger had been. And Omar must have felt the same, because he didn’t move, didn’t cut her as he had threatened, even as he repeated, “Stop. Don’t come any closer.” His words had little strength now, they were underlined with fear.
Then the next thing she knew, Brian lunged at them, flying through the air as he attacked. She was knocked aside, and rolled away. By the time she looked back, the two men were locked in a deadly battle. Omar still had the knife but Brian was gripping his wrist, as they wrestled for control.
Brian came to be on bottom somehow, holding Omar off, trying to shove away the sharp blade aimed at his throat. And then he did, twisting the knife and letting his arms go lax. Omar’s weight, suddenly released, pushed the blade through his own heart.
He died with a groan of disbelief torn from his throat, his eyes rounded as if in surprise.
Brian shoved the man off without another look at him and rushed to her. “Are you hurt?”
He looked her over, then when she shook her head, unable to speak, he crushed her to him.
“How is your leg?” she asked finally when the wave of emotions in her began to settle.
“Barely bleeding.”
She examined the wound at his temple that didn’t seem as bad up close as she had thought when she’d first seen it, a lot less damage than the blood suggested.
“A bullet got too close.” He lifted his fingers to the spot she was looking at. “Head wounds bleed like a bastard.”
“Hang on.” She walked over to Omar, ripped the flask off his belt and went back to Brian to wash the side of his face.
She used the corner of her shirt, and when she was done with his skin, she rubbed the dried blood out of his hair. He could have used a stitch or two, but probably he’d be all right without it.
Guns were still going off here and there, but the battle seemed to be nearing the end.
He ran a light finger over his temple. “When I saw you under that bush— Didn’t I tell you to head for the river?”
“If I didn’t follow you, I couldn’t have given the army your coordinates. I found a radio.” She smiled at the stunned look he gave her.
“You brought the army?”
Her smile widened into a grin.
“I should go help them,” he said after a moment, but didn’t move.
She burrowed against him, soaked up his strength, and gave thanks for the miracle that they were both alive. “Stay.”
And he did.
He gave a strangled laugh and held her closer. “I’ve changed more than I realized,” he said when she lifted her head and threw him a questioning look. “A couple of years ago, nothing and no one could have kept me from rushing back into the fray. Now, all I want to do is sit here and never let you go.”
>
She told herself not to read too much into that even as her heart leaped. They’d been through a lot together. She was the first woman he’d seen in four years, for heaven’s sake. A certain amount of attachment was natural and would probably wear off fast once he returned to the real world. She couldn’t fall for him. Not now.
She was going to become a mother in a few days, that’s what she needed to focus on. She couldn’t get entangled in a relationship that had started out of mutual need under extreme conditions. Not even if she could have sworn she was losing her heart to the man. She would get over it. They both would.
She pulled away just as the soldier she’d talked to earlier came walking from the direction of the fight, a couple of men behind him. He stopped by Omar’s body, then looked at them. “So who the hell are you?”
“Audrey Benedict. My sister is Nicky Brown, one of the tourists kidnapped by the guerillas.”
“Brian Smith,” Brian said, and smiled when the man drew up an eyebrow. “I’m a personal protection specialist hired by Miss Benedict.”
She tried not to act surprised at his new last name and the rest of his words, but wasn’t sure she altogether managed.
“What do you know about the hostages?”
“They escaped the guerillas two days ago and headed for an Orang Ulu village. I can give you a fair approximate location.”
The man nodded. “We’ll pick them up.” He turned to her. “You mentioned something about an attack in KL?”
She pulled the papers from her pocket and handed them to the man.
He looked through them. “Looks like you’ve been swimming.”
“I have. But they were bad even before that. We were able to make out Kuala Lumpur and the date August tenth. This part here—” she stepped next to him and found the right sheet “—used to be a list of embassies.”
“Call it in,” he said to one of his men before turning back to her. “And you came by this how?”
“We were both captured by Omar. He wrote this to another guerilla leader, and we took it with us when we escaped,” Brian said, pointing to one set of papers. “These I found at Hamid’s camp where the hostages were.” He indicated the rest.
“Right. We’ll talk some more about this.” He motioned to four of his soldiers and said something in Malay before switching back to English. “There’s a new logging road about two miles east of here with enough space for the chopper to land. I’m giving you an escort there and sending you to KL for further questioning.”
“And you’ll send someone for the hostages?”
He nodded. “If you’re cleared in KL, you’ll be having dinner with your sister tonight.”
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Nicky would be safe soon, the whole nightmare over. They’d be together again. But she was pretty sure that as soon as they got to Kuala Lumpur, Brian would be gone. And as much as she knew that was for the best, she wasn’t ready for it yet, reluctant to see him go.
There were still things unsaid between them. She could not possibly put her gratitude into words, and there were other feelings that were perhaps best left unsaid. She looked at him, hoping for a gesture, something to tell her what to do.
He smiled. “It’s over.”
She blinked hard, hating the words.
Chapter Twelve
He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what to say.
Brian stood in front of the door of the hotel room, overwhelmed with sensory experiences. The hustle and bustle of the streets, the sheer size of the hospital where Audrey and he had been treated, even the clothes he wore, felt alien. Everything was too much, too loud, too new, too complicated.
He had spent the night watching television in his hospital room—the doctors had kept him overnight, but let Audrey go—and what he’d seen left him bewildered. He would have a lot to learn, a lot to catch up with. He didn’t know anything, it seemed. No, not true. He knew one thing. He knew what he wanted.
Audrey.
He wanted her unequivocally, forever. He had enough time to think to know that he was in love with her.
And he loved her enough to want what was best for her. He was pretty sure it wasn’t him.
He had no job, no money, nowhere to live. She deserved better. She deserved a carefree man who laughed a lot, not one who had years worth of dark memories to weigh him down. She deserved to sleep next to someone who wouldn’t wake her up with his nightmares in the middle of the night.
And yet he was here. Not only to thank her for paying for his bill at the hospital and leaving him cash at the front desk. He wanted to see her one last time. He needed to see that she was okay. Then he would walk away.
He knocked even though he had a keycard. Audrey had left it in the envelope with the money.
She opened the door and stared at him for a moment. Blinked. “Brian…”
God, she looked beautiful. She had her long hair down, the light gleaming off the golden strands that framed her face. She wore a pink figure-hugging sheath dress that made his mouth go dry. She was a different person. The grungy teammate who had fought her way through the jungle with him and ate grubs from the palm of his hand was gone. In her place, he found a dazzling woman, every inch a lady. Someone who took his breath away, but a woman he didn’t recognize.
Her expression looked as stunned as he felt.
He glanced down at the pants and shirt he wore, and conscious of his yuppie haircut, ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t meant to spend more of her money than it took to get to the hotel, but he had trouble with the doorman letting him in, taking him for a panhandler.
“You’re so different…” The words rushed from her, before she caught herself.
And at last he looked past her clothes and found her eyes. Even they weren’t the same. She had makeup on.
Something moved behind her and he had her pushed aside, his body positioned to protect her, acting on instinct before he knew what he was doing.
The two men who came out of the kitchen area of the suite looked at him with suspicion.
“Audrey?” The taller of the two came forward.
“It’s okay, Josh. This is Brian Smith, the man I told you about.”
So this was the ex-husband. Brian extended his hand, not liking the way Josh seemed to measure him up. The man’s handshake was firm, perhaps firmer than necessary, maybe a message he wanted to send. Brian resisted the urge to squeeze back hard, and pulled away before crossing the border of polite.
“My brother-in-law, Trevor,” Audrey introduced the other guy, moving by him, making his head swirl with the flowery scent of her soap.
“I wanted to thank you for what you’ve done. I talked to Nicky this morning. They ended up taking the hostages to Miri yesterday to get checked out. It was the nearest hospital. But they’ll be all here by tonight. She asked me to convey her gratitude if I see you before she does.”
Good to know some of the hostages, at least, felt that way. He’d caught coverage of that, too, the guy who had wanted to fight him for the boat, giving an interview about the reckless and irresponsible nature of the rescue, and the disrespect and lack of cooperation of the man who had come for them—a “hot-headed maverick,” he’d said, “who took unnecessary chances with the lives of the hostages.”
“You do this kind of thing often?” Josh was still checking him out.
“As often as necessary. I work in personal security,” he said, sticking to the story he’d invented the day before.
“Audrey is lucky to have found you,” Trevor interjected.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She looked flustered. “Is everything all right?”
“Sure,” she said, but didn’t look at him.
“She’ll be fine now that we’re here,” Josh said, and stepped between them.
“I suppose you came for your fee.” The brother-in-law offered him a beer out of the minibar.
Saliva gathered in his mouth. There had been times in the past couple of y
ears when he would have given his soul for a cold beer. Now he waved it off. He wouldn’t be here long enough to finish it.
“I’ll be taking care of everything, of course.” Trevor put the beer down and reached for his checkbook.
“It’s all taken care of,” he said. The suite felt small all of a sudden, and for a crazy moment he wished they were still back in the jungle.
“If you prefer cash we can get it by this afternoon and bring it over to your hotel,” Josh said, putting his patrician nose where it didn’t belong. “Where is it that you’re staying?”
He didn’t know yet. His first thought upon release had been to see Audrey. “No further payment is necessary.”
He would get the money Colonel Wilson was sending to him at the embassy, crash in an airport hotel for the night, then leave on the first flight in the morning. He didn’t belong here with these people. They belonged with each other.
“Mind if I use your phone?” he asked Audrey, then when she nodded, he called down and asked for reception to get him a cab to the embassy and call up when it was here. All he needed were a few minutes to say goodbye.
But Josh interrupted his call with, “The embassy is closed today. They all are. Some kind of credible terrorist threat or something.”
Of course. August 10. He glanced at Audrey. How much had she told the men?
“We already tried to call earlier, to ask for their help. I missed my court date for the adoption hearing,” she said.
Great. He had wanted to give the money back that she’d left for him at the hospital, but it seemed he would need to spend more of it. He hated it, and hated even more the uncertainty of the future. More of the same waited for him back home. He’d probably been declared dead long ago, his apartment rerented, the money in his bank account God only knew where. What was the law for people who died without beneficiaries? The government probably had his savings by now.
“I will be—” He started to tell her that he would pay her back at the earliest opportunity, but Josh put his hand on the small of Audrey’s back, and jealousy as hot and sharp as lightning nearly tore him in two. He wanted to kill the man, rip him apart. He had to leave. Now.
