by Bobbi Smith
"What was he doing that got him in so much trouble?"
"You don't know why he was here?" said Anna in surprise.
"No. I don't work with Slater. I'm just his friend, someone he can trust."
She studied him closely for a moment and then answered, "Slater's been trying to encourage the native Creole landowners to push for independence for our country. For that reason alone, the Peninsulars feel they have to put an end to his efforts. A revolution in Cuba would mean they'd lose everything, and they are not about to give up the riches and power they hold so dear."
"How did you get mixed up in all this?" Nick was curious. He knew little about her, only that she was the one who'd written him to come to Slater's aid.
"I am one of Slater's contacts here in the city," she explained.
"How did you know to send for me?"
"He always told me that if anything happened to him, I should contact you. I'm glad you came. I'm just sorry it took so long to get the message to you.
The grateful look she gave him spoke volumes, and Nick knew in that moment that she was in love with Slater.
"So am I.We'll get him out of there just as soon as we can, but I think we'd better wait until it's completely dark before we make our move."
"We'll have to hurry once we free him. The ship I've arranged for your escape will only wait for you at the rendezvous point until dawn. If you're not there by sunup, they'll leave without you."
"What happens if we don't make it?"
Anna's expression turned grave. "There will be no safe place for you on the island. Carlanta is the devil himself! He knows everything that happens here... Everything..."
"But what about you? If we make the ship, are you coming with us?"
"No, I can't."
"Why?"
"I must stay here. My home is here and my family. I care for my elderly parents. They have no one else."
"But if this Carlanta is as bad as you say he is, won't he come after you?"
"No. I'll be safe. He thinks women are stupid," she scoffed. "I'd be the last person he'd suspect to have helped Slater escape."
Nick nodded in the growing night. He was about to say more when the sound of voices below drew his full attention. The two guards were now standing together, talking in low tones, their vigilance relaxed.
"This is no job for a man. A woman could do this," Juan complained as he threw open the door and took a quick look inside the hut. There was just barely enough light left to let him see their gringo prisoner. He lay on the dirt floor against the opposite wall, his battered and bruised face swollen nearly beyond recognition. His hands were tied behind him, and his ankles were bound. They had yet to remove the gag that had been used to muffle his screams during the hours of torture Carlanta had put him through. "He's not going anywhere. Why do they need both of us to watch him?"
Emilio gave a curt laugh as he shrugged his shoulders. "He's supposed to be one dangerous hombre. I hear Carlanta never broke him, not even when he told him of his wife's death."
"Does he look very dangerous to you right now?" Juan derided. "I've seen newborn babes more threatening than him."
Slater didn't move as he listened to their bragging talk, though he felt a driving urge to kill. When the guards closed the door leaving him locked in the impenetrable darkness once more, he renewed his relentless struggle to free himself. He had been trying to work his hands loose ever since they'd brought him here, but the ropes were so sturdy and so expertly tied that he was beginning to fear that his efforts were useless.
Still, Slater knew any activity was better than just lying there waiting. He wasn't sure just how much more of Carlanta's torment he could stand. His strength was failing him, and his thoughts were becoming disjointed and confused. He couldn't remember how long it had been since the night when they'd come for him or how long it had been since his captor had told him of Francesca's death. Days? Weeks? Months? He didn't know any more. He couldn't be certain of anything now, not even day or night.
Outside, Juan gave Emilio a joking jab in the ribs. "What do you say I sneak off for a little while? My Maria is waiting for me. I could have a little fun and be back before anyone even notices I'm gone."
Emilio's expression was knowing. "I don't care, but what if Carlanta comes out to check?"
"He won't," he assured him. "He hasn't checked on us since that very first night."
The other guard grinned, intrigued by the possibility that he, too, might get the chance to slip away a little later. "Go ahead, then. I'm sure I can handle this alone. The only danger in standing guard here is the danger of falling asleep."
"This shouldn't take too long," Juan chuckled as he clapped him on the back. "I'll be back."
Emilio watched until his friend had disappeared into the deepening darkness, then he circled the building once more to make certain that all was secure. The truth of the matter was, he wasn't as concerned about the security of the cabin as he was about the possiblity that some of Carlanta's other men might have heard them. Confident that Juan's secret was safe, Emilio was just starting back around the corner, intending to stand by the door, when suddenly he was struck from behind. Before he knew what had happened he felt his knees buckle and the ground come up to meet him. As painful reality faded into deep, dark oblivion, he was vaguely aware of the sound of the door being opened and his prisoner freed.
"Slater?" Anna whispered his name as she pushed the door open and entered the small hut. Rushing to his side, she dropped to her knees beside him and removed his gag. Without thought, she pressed a desperate kiss on his lips.
"Anna...?" Slater was confused. "How did you manage to get past the guard?" he asked quickly in a raspy voice.
"I sent for your friend, Nick. He came," she told him breathlessly as she drew back and freed her knife from her belt. She made short business of the knots at his wrists.
"Nick's here?" His thoughts began to clear. For a moment he'd feared that Anna was alone, but now that she'd told him Nick was there he knew a glimmer of hope. The minute his hands were free he tried to sit up, but the weeks of little food and nightmarish torture had sapped his energy. Only with Anna's help was he able to sit. He watched as she hurried to untie his ankles.
Just then, Nick came through the door, dragging Emilio's inert body with him and dumping him on the ground. He turned to his friend and was horrified by the sight of him. Slater was a strong, vibrant man, but Carlanta's systematic, savage punishment had taken its toll. Nick feared he might not even have enough strength to walk.
"Slater! God, are you all right?" Nick asked, racing to his side.
"I will be once I get my hands on Carlanta! He killed Francesca!" Slater told him feverishly as he gripped his hand and stared up at him. He was nearly out of his mind from physical pain that had been inflicted on him and from the emotional agony of learning of his wife's senseless death. He wanted to go after the man responsible.
"No, Slater," Anna interrupted angrily, unwilling to let him sacrifice himself. "There is no time. Besides, I've never known you to be stupid. You would be one man, two if Nick goes with you, against hundreds of Carlanta's best, most wellarmed men. It would be suicide."
"I have to..." He looked to Nick, feeling what little strength he had left fading.
"No, you can't go back. Right now, we have to get you out of here while we can. Anna's made arrangements to get us off the island, and we have to go."
Defeat ravaged Slater, for he knew they were right.
"Let me tie up the guard and then we'll get out of here."
Nick took the discarded rope that had been used to tie Slater's ankles and quickly restrained the guard, then he gagged him. That done, he hurried to help Anna get Slater to his feet. It took Slater a moment to get his equilibrium, and he swayed unsteadily when he stood. He took a last glance around his prison.
"I'm glad you came," he told them huskily.
"I'm glad you're alive," Anna said with heartfelt meaning. Though she'd always kno
wn he belonged to another, it hadn't stopped her from falling in love with him. It had been a painful, unrequited love, but she hadn't minded, lb her, Slater was the most wonderful man in the world, and if she was destined only to be his friend, so be it.
"Thank you, Anna." Slater was grateful, knowing that without her help, he would have eventually been killed by the powerful Peninsular.
Anna gazed up at Slater adoringly. Though not as tall as Nick, Slater still topped six feet. He was more solidly built, his chest wide and deep and heavily muscled. His hair was dark brown, but the sun had burnished it with golden highlights. Before Carlanta's beatings, his features had been strong and rugged, showing a great strength of character, and she knew he would look that way again once the swelling and bruising were gone. His vivid green eyes had always had the ability to set her pulse racing with just a look. She knew he was not as handsome as Nick, but there was something about him that was so elemental and so very male that it left her wanting him always.
Anna fought back the surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her at the knowledge that he would soon be out of her life. She told herself that it was enough that he'd survived. When you loved someone, you wanted what was best for him, and she knew it was most important that Slater leave Cuba. Still, she was unable to end the contact with him just yet, and she kept her arm around him as they started from the cabin.
"I was beginning to get a little worried," Slater said to Nick. He tried to smile, but his swollen lips only twisted in what resembled a grimace.
"You know I always show up when you're in trouble."
"This was more than the average trouble this time, Nick," he said solemnly.
"We'll talk about that later. Right now, we've got to get to the horses waiting at the top of the hill. Anna's arranged passage on a ship, and we have to make it to the rendezvous."
A moment later they were retreating up the hillside to where they'd left their mounts. Luck was with them. Though they were forced to move more slowly than they liked because of Slater's condition, they made their escape unnoticed. By the time Juan returned nearly an hour later, Nick, Slater, and Anna were miles away, heading at full speed for the ship.
When they reached the secluded cove, two hulking, unsavory-looking sailors were waiting for them.
"Hurry and get in the skiff," one of them ordered gruffly. "Captain Curtis doesn't like this waiting."
"Shut up, you. Your captain was well paid for his effort. They will go when they are ready," Anna snapped defiantly, her agony at losing Slater fueling a fierceness in her she'd never known.
The sailor fell silent. He would have liked to throttle her, but the presence of her two ompanyions discouraged him. He stood sullenly by while he waited for them to say their farewells.
Nick spoke to Anna first. "Thank you, Anna."
"You're welcome, Nick. Make this final trip safely."
"We will, because of you." He moved away to join the sailors, leaving the two of them alone for a few minutes.
Slater stood in the moonlight staring down at the young woman who had risked everything to save him. She was a lovely girl, and he cared for her a lot. With a gentle hand, he touched the smooth curve of her cheek.
In a heartfelt move, she pressed a fervid kiss to his palm. "I'll miss you, Slater MacKenzie," she whispered.
"And I'll miss you. You'll be careful?"
Anna nodded, but couldn't look up. Tears filled her eyes, and she didn't want him to see. But he grasped her chin in a tender grip and lifted her face so he could see her. With great care, he pressed a sweet kiss on her forehead.
"There's something I want you to have... "
"What?"
"In my room, hidden behind the painting on the wall opposite the window, is a small key. It's to a metal box I left with Manuelo Pineda. Just show him that you have the key and hell give you the box."
"But why? What's in it?"
"Something that will help you," he promised, then turned and made his way with a slow, painful tread to join Nick in the boat. "Take care of yourself, Anna."
Anna watched as the sailors pushed the small craft into the water. She stayed on the beach until the ship disappeared from sight into the Caribbean night. Only then did she let her tears fall.
Anna made the trip back to Havana and immedi ately went to claim Slater's key. It was exactly where he'd said it would be. Grasping it tightly in her hand the whole way, she went to Pineda's and got the box, then went straight to the privacy of her own room before opening it. With shaking hands, she unlocked Slater's mysterious present and lifted the lid. A gasp of surprise escaped her at the sight of all the money Slater had stowed there.
Joy filled Anna. Because of his gift, she would never have to work another night in the cantina. In a silent prayer, she thanked God for Slater's kindness, yet the sweetness of the moment was tempered by the terrible, empty ache in her heart. She loved Slater MacKenzie, and there would always be a part of her that wished he'd given her the key to his heart instead.
Nick knew that Slater didn't want to leave, but they had no other choice. As pleased as Nick was that their escape had gone so well, his satisfaction vanished the moment he discovered that the Sea Demon, the ship Anna had arranged their transport on, was a slaver.
They slept on deck for the balance of that night rather than try to seek rest below, for the stench of filth and disease clung to the vessel. Slater's sleep was restless, filled with agonizing dreams of Franceses and bloody visions of Carlanta and his men. When he awakened, shaking from the power of his nightmare, Nick was at his side.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"Damn!" Slater swore as he sat up. "It's all my fault! If it hadn't been for me, Francesca would still be alive!"
"Slater, you're wrong! It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. You were caught, just like she was. You had no control over anything."
"I swear to you, Nick, one day I'm going to go back and find a way to get even with Carlanta!"
"How will going back to Cuba and getting yourself killed help anything?" Nick demanded. "She's dead, Slater," he added gently. "You're going to have to let her go..."
"God," he groaned miserably, "will the pain of missing her ever go away?"
"In time..." was all Nick could say. "You just need time."
"I hope you're right," Slater answered, and then fell silent.
Dawn finally came, and with it, their first full day of exposure to life on a slave ship. Nick had always known that slaving was an ugly business, but seeing the abuses of it first hand brought it home to him even more forcefully, As a slave owner himself, he was not opposed to the institution. He was, however, opposed to brutality in any form, and there could be no denying that the illegal smuggling of slaves was an atrocity. Hundreds of blacks had been crowded into the dark, dank, barely ventilated bowels of the ship with scant food and water for the duration of the trip from Africa to America. It was a wonder to Nick that any of them survived the horror of the voyage.
Slater, too, was all too familiar with the terrible abuses of the slave smugglers, and he had no use for any of them. He had dealt with their kind be fore and knew just how ruthless and murderous they could be-all in the name of profit. This encounter, however, held even deeper meaning for him, for after having spent endless weeks in Carlanta's power being restrained, beaten, and starved, he could readily identify with the captives held belowdecks.
Late the following afternoon Nick and Slater stood at the rail of the Sea Demon gazing out across the gulf. Slater was still weak, but feeling a little better now that he was free. They knew it would be at least several more days before they made landfall in Louisiana, and they couldn't wait to reach their destination.
"Captain! Ship sighted! North by northeast!"
The hue and cry raised by the lookout captured Nick and Slater's full attention. They scanned the horizon in the direction the sailor was pointing, and saw the distant hulking outline of what looked to be a lumbering gov
ernment ship heading their way.
Captain Curtis, a big, brutish man with a full flowing black beard and emotionless, icy blue eyes, raced to the side with his spyglass to get a better look. His expression hardened as he focused on the oncoming vessel's flag. It was a U.S.Navy ship, and he knew why it was there.
"Damn," he swore. Turning away, he raced to the helm and ordered his helmsman, "Turn her into the wind, Mr. Givens! Full sail!"
The sails of the schooner snapped as they caught the stiff afternoon breeze, and Curtis continued issuing terse directives, ensuring that the Sea Demon's course led away from the government vessel. He kept watch to see if the other ship meant to give chase, and to his disgust, he found that it did.
"It's a patrol boat," he snarled viciously. "We'll have to outrun them!"
"Aye, aye, sir," his men replied, knowing how much was at stake.
When the Sea Demon had been commissioned, her owner had directed that she be of the sleekest, fastest design, and she was showing her worth right now as she cut through the water with daring speed and grace. In this business, fleetness made the difference between success and failure, and failure meant not only the threat of prison but also financial disaster for the owners as well with the loss of the cargo and the forfeiture of the ship itself.
Curtis grew more and more pleased as the minutes passed. His usual confidence was returning as the Demon pulled steadily away from the menace of the U.S. ship. It was the lookout's second warning that jolted him and let him know the true seriousness of his situation.
"Captain Curtis!" the man yelled in panic. "There's another vessel, sir! It's closing on us from due west!"
"Hellfire, man!" the captain cursed as he caught sight of the rapidly approaching brig. "Why didn't you spot her sooner?"
"The sun was at her back, sir. I couldn't see her at first! She's traveling mighty fast, Captain. I don't know if we can get away from this one!"
