The man jerked half around, and several of his companions leaned closer to confer with him in unintelligible mutters while Cory waited in silent agony, cursing the fates that had conspired to bring Sam into harms way. This harm hed created. If anything happens to her, he thought
The spokesman turned back, and with yet more jerking motions of his rifle to emphasize his words, said sharply, She stay here. I am told to bring only you- the gun barrel pointed toward Cory -and you- now toward Tony. Come, now.
Fear flooded Corys body and prickled his skin like frost. His heartbeat was a distant booming in his ears. Horrifying images, reports of extraneous captives being beheaded flashed through his mind. He could feel himself screaming, No! inside his head in the silent, chest-burning, throat-tearing way of nightmares, and again it was a shock to hear his own voice, sounding calm and in command. No. Shes needed. Shes also my interpreter. She comes with us.
The gunman thrust his chin upward in a manner that was both arrogant and dismissive. I speak English. No need for interpreter.
She goes, Cory said flatly, or I dont. To demonstrate the conviction of his declaration he lowered his laptop and tote bag to the floor and folded his arms on his chest. Tell your leader there will be no interview.
The silence that followed shrieked in his ears. The ultimatum was, he knew, a ridiculous, utterly meaningless display of bravado; he had only as much bargaining leverage as these gunmenterrorists, rebels, insurgents-whatever they might choose to call themselves tonight-decided to give him. And that, he was sure, depended solely on how much their infamous leader desired this interview. Or, putting it another way, how compelling was his need to get his message out to the world.
The spokesmans face darkened as he turned once more to consult with his companions in clipped and rapid phrases. Cory couldnt look at Tony or Sam. Literally could not; tension had him paralyzed. He felt as if his neck would crack if he tried to move his head. Ive put us all in jeopardy, he thought. My best friendthe woman I love. They may kill us all right now. Or take Tony and me hostage and kill Sam
What else could he have done? The only thing he had to balance against the terrible weight of responsibility for the lives of two people he cared about was the utter certainty that if he left Sam behind in this place hed never see her alive again.
The suspense became unbearable. He began to wonder if he would ever dare to breathe again.
The spokesman turned back suddenly and rapped out a sharp and grudging, Okay. Then, with a series of gestures-more pointing with the rifle barrel-and barked commands, ordered them to leave everything theyd brought with them behind.
Hey, man, not my cameras! Tony took a step backward, clutching his bags to his chest like a mother protecting her young.
Cory thought, Oh, Lord, here we go again as he remarked in a languid drawl, Hey, look, I was instructed to bring a cameraman. Not much point if he doesnt have a camera. Fading adrenaline had left him drainedhe felt loose and weak and much too warm, as if hed just emerged from a long hot bath.
The spokesman looked at him with hatred, and his words came grudgingly. Okay. Cameras can go. Everything else-stay here.
What about my computer? I cant very well-
No. No computer. We have tape recorder. No need for computer. Leave everything here. Come. Now.
They think we might be carrying tracking devices, Sam muttered in an undertone from behind him. Better do as he says.
Cory nodded in grim acceptance. Hell with it-hed won the important battle. And hed done interviews before laptops were invented; he could do without one now. It definitely wasnt worth getting killed over. Getting Sam killed over.
With yet more poking and waving of rifle barrels, the three of them were herded outside, through the lanai and into the deserted village, which seemed frozen in silence under the silvery light of the almost-full moon. Nothing stirred as they made their way along the pale ribbon of road, heading in the opposite direction from which theyd come. The only sound was the muffled scuffing of their footsteps in the dusty dirt.
Just outside the main cluster of buildings where more planted fields began, the terrorist leader turned sharply away from the road. The rest of the band followed, then Tony, Sam and Cory behind them, picking their way single-file along the banks that bordered the rice paddies, with two more of the armed escort bringing up the rear. The air was warm and heavy; rain seemed to hover a breath of wind away, like a secret bursting to be told.
Cory felt a familiar exaltation rise inside him, one he could neither explain nor deny. He wondered if it was the sort of thing a hunter feels as he closes in on his quarry, or a scientist as he nears the discovery of a lifetime, a mountain climber approaching the summit. He only knew it was what had him returning again and again to the worlds most perilous places in spite of the various dangers and discomforts involved, in search of answersthe trutha story. He couldnt imagine himself ever doing anything else. Like the explorer seeking one more horizon or the prospector the elusive gold nugget, he knew there would always be new questions to ask, new truths to be revealed, more stories to be told.
Ahead, the jungle loomed like a dark maw, and even as it swallowed him, Cory felt his heart lift and excitement shiver along his spine.
Sam had been in jungles before. The nighttime sounds and smells were familiar to her, and in spite of uneasy thoughts of the kinds of creatures that might be making those sounds, she welcomed the darkness for the chance it gave her to pull herself together, shielded from Corys all-too-perceptive eyes.
She needed time to process what had just happened to her-and she didnt mean being taken into custody by armed terrorists. Corys kiss, his touch, and the way shed responded-not just her bodys responses, she could have dealt with those-but, dammit, with her heart. Yes-her wretched, pathetic, stupid heart, which apparently had no memory of being broken into tiny pieces by that very same man. She needed to face up to that, push against it, hard, the way shed test a twisted ankle to see if she could stand the pain.
Hes just like a patch of quicksand, she thought with a shudder. I knew it was therelet myself wander a little too closejust one tiny slip, and already I can feel myself sinking
After a time, they emerged from the darkness of the jungle onto a moonlit grass-and-dirt road that wound like a silver ribbon into the mountains. Cory moved up to walk beside her, and she felt his presence there with every nerve ending in her body. The familiar shape and smell of him overwhelmed her senses.
After a time, they emerged from the darkness of the jungle onto a moonlit grass-and-dirt road that wound like a silver ribbon into the mountains. Cory moved up to walk beside her, and she felt his presence there with every nerve ending in her body. The familiar shape and smell of him overwhelmed her senses.
Memories inundated her
Lying naked in a patch of sunshine on rumpled sheets, propped on one elbow while my fingers lightly trace the long, elegant lines of his back I watch him sleepthe fine, sensitive mouth relaxed, silky dark hair falling across his forehead, and his face stark with the loneliness I can only see when those beautiful eyes are closed and their compassion and curiosity hidden behind shadowed lids and lashes.
I watch him sleep and wonder what lonely place hes gone to that he never lets me share, and I ache with wanting something that always seems to be just beyond my reach.
In an effort to shake herself loose from the memories, she leaned closer to Cory, bumped him in the ribs with her elbow and said in a gravelly whisper, What were you trying to do back there, Pearse, get us all killed?
He grunted but didnt reply. The urge to needle him passed as quickly as it had come, and after a moment she added a gruff, Wellanyway, thanks. And found herself, without meaning to, reaching for his hand. It, too, felt familiarbig and long-bonedso warm and good She squeezed it once, then quickly let it go.
Youre welcome, he said.
She tensed when she felt that same big warm hand lift to the back of her neck. She held her breath when he began to rub it, the way hed done so many times before, finding, as he always knew how to do, the trouble spots at the base of her skull.
Coming too close to the tender place behind her ear.
Cut it out, Pearse, she croaked as she shook herself free.
Sorry, he murmured, not sounding sorry at all. Force of habit.
Tears sprang behind her eyes. She swallowed hard-twice-and stared at the dark shape of mountains against the silver sky. After a long moment, feeling an obscure need to make amends, she said gruffly, Sorry about your computer.
He was so close she felt him shrug. Too close. All her nerve endings were twanging, but she didnt move away.
Ill get along. Im surprised they didnt search us, though.
Oh, they will, she said with a careless shake of her head. Theyll probably take our clothes away somewhere and go over everything with a fine-tooth comb.
His head swiveled toward her, and even in the dim light she felt the probing weight of his curious, ever-searching eyes.
Is that the voice of experience?
She jerked a glance at him and gave a short huff of laughter. God, no. I fly airplanes for a living, Pearse. Youre the one with that kind of experience, not me. He didnt comment, and after a moment she said in an undertone, I just know hes careful, this Fahadal-Ramin?
Rami, said Cory. Fahad al-Rami. And he is careful. Hes had to be, to have managed to keep from getting captured or killed for so many years. Hes got to know hes taking a big chance in allowing himself to be interviewed now.
So are you. Arent you? Taking a big chance? It was his turn for that soft snort of laughter. She threw him a look and said dryly, Bet you never gave that a thought, did you? She looked away again, quickly, and laughed a little herself. You probably said, To hell with the danger. Tell me when and where, and Im there. Like you always do.
This- he paused, caught a breath -its a news correspondents dream, Sam. His words were quiet, barely audible, but she could tell by the shape of them that he was looking at her. Itd be like, ten years ago, going into the mountains of Afghanistan to interview Bin Laden. Who could say no to that?