It was time for a test. She took in a deep breath through her nosewhooshed it outflexed her fingers, then gave her hands a shake. Loosening herself up, shaking off the tension. Then, carefully touching back the hair behind her right ear, she lifted her finger and placed it on the small bump located there, beneath the healing scar. Head bowed, eyes closed, concentrating on blocking out the twinges of pain from still-tender tissues, she pressed the bump in a well-rehearsed code sequence: Target located.
She waited, heart thumping. Several minutes later-it only seemed like hours-the answer came. A single but unmistakable zap: Message received and copied.
Quivering and clammy with relief, she tapped out a new message: Stand by.
The answer came more quickly this time. Two zaps: Say again. Clarify.
She repeated it: Stand by.
And the answer came back-one zap: Copy.
It was done. For now, anyway. Wobble-legged, suddenly, she turned and half sat, half leaned against the windowsill, letting the tension and adrenaline drain from her body and her thumping heart settle back into normal rhythms. Later, when the time was right, shed send another signal-the signal to move in. But for now, all she could do was wait. Wait until Cory finished his interview. Wait for word on the hostages. Wait until they were all safely away. Wait.
Waiting had never been easy for her.
And in the meantime, somewhere out there beyond the ravine, Philippine government forces and their American special ops advisors would be gathering, homing in on her GPS signal. Waiting for the signal to move on Fahad al-Ramis jungle hideaway. Waiting. Their objective, of course, would be to capture the elusive terrorist leader alive, but failing that
A shudder passed through Sams body. Pushing herself away from the window, she plunged her hands into the basin and washed her face in the pleasantly cool water. After a moments hesitation and a quick look toward the door, she stripped off her T-shirt, then quickly slipped out of her boots and cargo pants. Dressed only in her underwear, she soaked a towel in the water, wrung it out lightly and sponged herself off as best she could. She dried herself and dressed hurriedly, cringing at the feel of her damp, sweaty clothing on her skin. Shed barely finished and was attempting to finger-comb some order into her hair when there was a discreet knock on the door.
She opened it to find a stone-faced guard with a tray on which were arranged a small pot of tea, a cup, a woven bowl containing fruit, and a covered container she was sure would hold the usual concoction of vegetables and rice. She smiled and thanked the guard in Tagalog, but, naturally, got no response. He merely handed over the tray and retreated, pulling the door shut after him.
Have a nice day, Sam said dryly. She stood for a moment, holding the tray and chewing her lip, trying to decide whether to displace the basin of water and use the table and stool, or go for the floor and cushions.
Oh, hell-when in Rome, she muttered with a shrug as she placed the tray on the floor and sank cross-legged onto a tufted purple cushion.
The next few minutes she spent refueling with gusto and efficiency. She hadnt realized how hungry she was-probably, she thought, anger and adrenaline would tend to have a dampening effect on a persons appetite. Gradually, though, as the void inside her filled, a sense of peaceful lassitude settled over her. It was a good feeling; the first part of her job had been done, and for the moment there was nothing more she could do. And she was tired; shed had only catnaps the past few days, and here, for the first time since Zamboanga, was both privacy and comfort. Her body relaxedher mind drifted. Once again her guard slipped, and the memories came pouring in.
Its autumn, the days are growing short and in Athens, Georgia, the leaves are already falling. But the sky is wonderfully blue and the air smells crisp and good, and Corys here! I havent seen him in a while, hes been out of the country on assignment, but now hes back in Atlanta again, taping something for CNN, and its the weekend and hes driven over to Athens to see me. Weve been to a football game-the Bulldogs won, not that I care, because all that matters is Corys here, and we hold hands as we stroll through the campus, kicking through the fresh leaves and laughing at nothing, because its enough just to be together. We spread our jackets on the grass and finish the rest of the tail-gate lunch Id fixed for before the game, throwing bits of bread crusts to the squirrels.
I look at Cory, and hes smiling that gentle smile, and his eyes look back into mine with such understanding, and his face is so beautiful I hurt inside, and I have to fight back tears. I lean over and kiss him, and his lips are warm and the shape of them against mine is the most incredible thing Ive ever felt. His lips part under mine, and I laugh, low in my throat, because he tastes like mustard and onions, and so do I, but what do either of us care? Im trembling when he pulls away with a soft little sigh of regret, and I want him so muchthe wanting fills every part of me, and I know I wont be able to hide it from him. I wonder how much longer Ill have to wait for him to get past the notion Im too young for him, the daughter of his closest friend, and decides its okay to make love to me. I wonder how its possible to be so happyand feel such pain
She must have slept, because she woke with a start to find herself sprawled in a jumble of cushions with her arms and legs every which way, and the silhouetted figure of a man standing in front of the window. She sat up too quickly, clammy and jangled, and the figure moved away from the light and became Cory.
Hey. Didnt mean to wake you, he said softly, smiling that gentle smile that was so much like the one in her recent memory-or had it been a dream?-it made her heart flip-flop.
She scowled at him. Whatre you doing here, Pearse? And her voice sounded gruff and cranky, because that was her best defense against the way she felt. Vulnerable. There was nothing in the world Sam hated more than feeling vulnerable.
Are you okay?
And sympathy didnt help matters, either, especially coming from the person whose whole entire fault it was she felt this way. Im fine, she said with an impatient wave of her hand, whisking away the question like an annoying fly. No big deal. I wasnt crazy about being sent to my room like a- She broke it off while she pulled her feet under her and prepared to stand up, then amended it. Being treated that way by that SOB, but hey-Im over it.
Cory stepped closer and held out his hand to help her up. His eyes were amused. Come on, Sam, I know you too well. If ever I saw murder in a womans eyes He paused, patiently waiting for her to take his hand, as if it had never occurred to him she wouldnt. I know that cant have been easy for you, he said, and his mouth tilted wryly. For what its worth, thoughthank you for not making a scene.
Telling herself it would be pointless-and childish-to ignore his offer of help, she grudgingly put her hand in his. The familiar warmth and strength of it made her breathing catch. Guess that makes us even, she said lightly as he pulled her easily to her feet.
Not even close, he said softly, and instead of letting go of her hand, enclosed it in both of his and drew her closer.
She could have pulled away, of course she could have. Should have, no question about it. He would have released her at even the slightest sign of resistance, she knew that. Instead, she let herself be reeled in, all the time telling herself, This is a mistakeyou know its a mistakefor Gods sake, Samantha June, have good sense for a change!
She did put her free hand flat against his chest, though, maintaining at least that much distance between them, and although she held her head high, she kept her eyes fixed on her captive hand and refused to meet his eyes.
The breeze from his exhaled breath tickled her temple. I know I hurt you. God, Im sorry. If I could go back and undo it, I would. But I cant, Sam. I cant.
Bitterly, she thought, Oh? Which hurt are we talking about this time?
She shrugged, drawing herself in around the misery inside her, hunkering down behind the questions she wasnt brave enough to ask. Im over that, too, okay?
I truly did think you were through with me, after that night in Georgetown. His eyes were sad, his smile crooked. I was trying to move on. I thoughtwhen I met Karen But it was a mistake to expect someone else He paused for a breath, and when he went on his voice had filled with gravel. We both knew the marriage was a mistake, Karen and I, almost immediately. We agreed the best thing would be to try and undo the damage as quickly as possible.
Oh-his marriage. Thats what hes talking about, she thought dismally. And how odd she should feel so deflated, when only a day or two ago the subject had been sore as a tooth-ache for her. Shed have put the day shed heard the news about Corys marriage right up there with the day she was told her daddy was dead, shot down in his fighter jet over Iraq, as one of the worst days of her life.
Of course And even through her defenses, though she tried not to, she heard the regret and irony in his voice. I know some things cant ever be undone.
Hey, she said distantly as she turned away from him, its ancient history. Forget it. I have.
It surprised her to realize it, but it was true. She really was over it-or at least, the importance of it had been greatly diminished-dwarfed, in fact, by yesterdays shocking revelation that the man shed loved and shared her body, mind and soul with for almost six years had a whole bunch of brothers and sisters hed never told her about. Shed been trying ever since to get her mind around that, but the questions kept battering away at her like attacking Furies.
What does this say about our relationship? What does it say about you, Pearse?
She was no psychologist, and God knows, no expert on relationships, but she was pretty sure it must mean he didnt trust her enough to share his most basic self with her. Maybe it meant he was afraid or incapable of intimacy-the emotional kind, which even she knew was way more important than the physical, if a relationship was going to have a chance to survive the long haul.
So, what did that mean for her and Cory? His marriage-okay, that had been a mistake-a biggie, all right. A whopper. But mistakes could be forgiven. But this If Corys failure to share something so important with her meant what she feared it did, then there was simply no hope for them. None at all.