Tony, as he joined them, quipped dryly, They gonna supply us with bedpans, too?
Hes afraid, Sam said in an undertone. Cant blame him. If he doesnt do exactly as hes been told, he and his family may be killed.
Cory swore softly.
Or worse, she continued as if he hadnt spoken, hes afraid if government forces find out al-Ramis men are in the area, they may attack and destroy the village in order to kill the rebels. A sardonic smile flickered. What they call collateral damage.
Tony shifted the strap of his camera bag and swiped at the sweat on his face with a forearm. So, what do we do now, man?
What the man said, Cory replied on an exhalation as he lowered his laptop to the floor. We stay inside, out of sight. And we wait.
Sam was uneasy, though she felt confident no one would have guessed that to look at her. She lay on her back on a wooden bench in what would be, if the clinic were open for business and the doctor in residence, a preliminary-exam-or triage-room. Her knees were drawn up and her arms folded to make a pillow for her head. To a casual observer shed appear to be napping, but nothing could have been farther from the truth. In fact, her eyes were not quite closed; every nerve and sense was on full alert, her ears were straining to hear the slightest stirring in the vegetation outsideher skin prickled with awareness. Beneath lowered lashes, her gaze was fixed on the main source of her unease, the man sitting on an exam table on the other side of the room.
He was only a shape-though an achingly familiar one-dimly lit by the lantern hanging from a rafter overhead. Night had fallen at last. Out in the cabana, which would serve as a waiting room during infirmary hours, Tony lay stretched out on another wooden bench. Not much doubt about whether he was asleep; she could hear his raspy snores from in here. From other rooms in the hospital came the quiet sounds of restless peoplesick people: coughinga baby fussingsomeone calling out in his sleep. Outside, beyond the screens, the night was full of insect noise, but nothing more.
Cory wasnt even pretending to sleep. He sat upright, facing her, with his hands braced on the edge of the table, rocking himself slightly and glancing at her from time to time, evidently deep in thought.
Sam didnt know what to make of his attitude since theyd arrived at the village. Something had changed. He seemedwatchful. Thoughtful. Nothing new there; Cory was always watchingthinkingobserving and evaluating. But tonight there was something-a new element. He seemednot exactly suspicious, butwell, maybe. She didnt know what name to call it; she only knew it made her uneasy as hell.
Same old story, she thought, with a flare of unprofessional resentment. Cant ever tell what hes thinkingdont have a clue what makes him tick. No wonder it didnt work out between us.
Same old story, she thought, with a flare of unprofessional resentment. Cant ever tell what hes thinkingdont have a clue what makes him tick. No wonder it didnt work out between us.
She tensed as the object of her frustration slid off the exam table and began quietly to pace. She watched him for a few minutes, annoyed to find her heartbeat quickening, then called softly to him.
Hey, Pearse, pacing wont make them come any quicker. Maybe you should try and get some sleep.
His reply was a grunt. Yeah, right.
Your friend doesnt seem to be having any problems.
This time the grunt was more of a chuckle. Tonys a battlefield photographer. He can sleep through artillery fire.
She tilted her head back in order to follow him with her eyes. Why not you? Youve seen your share of battlefields.
He paused in his pacing to turn his head toward her, and though she couldnt see it in the shadows, she could hear the smilethe wryness in it. This is hardly the same.
No? Why not? And her breath caught as he prowled slowly toward her.
For starters, youre here.
An oddly enjoyable tension gripped her chest. Ah, she said softly, do I disturb you that much?
He was standing over her now, looking down at her. You worry me, he said thoughtfully.
A little thrill of warning shook her-not, she told herself, of fear. She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. I worry you? Why?
Taking her move as an invitation, he sat on the bench beside her. Instead of answering directly, he gazed at her for a moment, then said quietly, This is a dangerous mission were on, Sam.
His voice was stern, almost parental. She felt a chilly wash of disappointment. Same old, same old
She said stiffly, You dont have to worry, Pearse. I can take care of myself, you know.
He turned his face toward her and after a long pause replied, Maybe thats what worries me.
She gave an involuntary hoot of laughter. Whats that supposed to mean? And heard the sigh of his exhalation as he looked away.
I dont know what I mean. He hitched in a breath, then contradicted himself. This is a dangerous mission, and yet you dont seem to be concerned. Not even a little bityou know, keyed up. Apprehensive. Nervous. Any of the things any sane, intelligent person should be in this situation. Since I know you to be both sane and intelligent, I cant figure out whether youre simply clueless, dont fully understand the situation
Well, thats flattering, Sam said dryly. Im hoping theres an or coming.
Or, you know a whole lot more about whats going on than youre letting on-maybe more than I do.
She hitched herself around to face him. It was a defensive move; hed managed to jolt her in spite of all her preparation, all her training. She fought to keep the anger out of her voice. Did it occur to you maybe Im not worried because I have confidence in myself, that I understand worrying isnt going to help anything, and I have the self-discipline to keep myself calm-in short, that Im a mature adult, capable of reason and self-control?
Jeez, Sam. He drew a hand over his face and shook his head in a weary, long-suffering way that only stoked her anger. You dont ever forget or forgive, do you?
Maybe, she snapped back at him, Id be more willing to forgive if I could see some evidence youve changed. As far as I can see, nothings changed between us.
Youre right. Nothing has. His voice, as he gazed at her, suddenly had a different quality. A huskiness that should have warned her, but didnt. Before she had any idea he was going to, he caught her by the arms and at the same time rose to his feet, taking her with him.
Once again her breath caught, this time with an audible gasp. You promised-
Are you kidding me? His voice seemed to grind through his chest. After what you put me through last night, all bets are off.
She felt the rush and heat of his body coming against hers, and his head coming down for the taking. The breath left her lungs and her chest filled instead with the fierce ache of joy. Yes, her heart cried, Oh, yes. Finally.
His mouth claimed hers with the passion, the roughness she remembered he could reveal, at times, that had been so much the more thrilling to her for being unexpected, so at odds with the gentle and compassionate man he was. And she thought, This is why. Not just the sex, not only that. For the fire and passion she knew were inside him and that he worked so hard to hide-from her, from the world, from everyone.
From the world, she could understand. But why does he keep this from me? Except at times like thistimes when he lets himself go, and its so goodcould have been
But sex isnt enough. It could never have worked between us. I know ithave to accept it.
The desire welling up inside her shattered suddenly, like a glass bubble bursting. She felt the loss like pain, and pulled away from him with a sharp and bitter cry.
But his hands still held her head prisoner, gentle again now, fingers splayed wide, burrowing through her hair in a way she remembered with a sweet and terrible ache.
Sam, he said-just that, in a voice too raw for more.
Dont, she whispered, trying to swallow. Hurting too much to swallow or speak.
His fingertips scraped over her scalp, touching her nerves with his particular brand of electricity. And found the tender spot beneath its freshly healed scar.
She winced; she couldnt help it. She heard the sharp hiss of his breath and jerked free of his grasp, a reply to the question she could see forming in his eyes and on his lips already balanced on the tip of her tongue.
But the sound that came next was neither his voice nor hers. It was a cough, a polite, almost comical little Ahem, followed, as they both whirled toward the sound, by a gruff but somewhat feeble, Uhguys?
Tony stood in the doorway to the cabana with his hands behind his head. As he stepped into the room, several dark shapes separated themselves from the shadows and followed him. In the dim lantern light the shadows became men dressed in camouflage clothing. They werent wearing masks or hoods, and their expressions were stoic, their eyes dark and hard. They all carried automatic weapons.
Chapter 5
Still reeling, his senses glutted with the taste, the smell, the feel of Samantha, Cory watched the men slip into the room, seeming to fill it with their silent menace and the threat of violence in their weapons and their hard, cold eyes. His eyes leaped from one impassive face to the next, looking for the one hed come so far to meet. He wasnt there, of course. These were the messengers, he realized; the retrieval squad, nothing more.
One of them, the designated spokesman, apparently, motioned with his weapon. Come.
Cory nodded. So far, so good, he thought as he picked up his laptop and tote bag.
But as he stepped toward the waiting cadre of armed men, the leader again motioned with his weapon, this time holding it up to bar his way, and his hard black stare had gone shooting past Cory to something behind him. Turning, Cory saw Sam, waiting to follow him, her face calm, body relaxed, one hip canted and the straps of the backpack slung over one shoulder.
The terrorists leader spoke, his voice sharp and unexpected in the stillness. Who is this? The rifle in his hands jerked toward Sam.
Shes the pilot, Cory explained, and it took all the self-control he had to say it calmly with every nerve twanging and his heart thumping. When the mans face remained blank, he hooked his thumbs together and made flapping motions with his hands, and for good measure added, She flies the airplane.