Nightshade (Discarded Heroes) (30 page)

Mouth dry at his last words, she mutely nodded and climbed out of the car. Don’t go anywhere with him? Why did that unseat her last nerve? She pushed herself around the black, wrought-iron, waist-high fence guarding the sidewalk café and its patrons.

Jingle-jingle
. Quiet bathed her as she stepped into the quaint restaurant. A slight burning stretched across her lower abdomen as she searched out the table Holden had told her about. She rubbed her belly, feeling drained and apprehensive. Her overactive imagination lurched to vivid, startling encounters.
This is insane. I’m not a spy. I don’t know what I’m doing
.

She located the table. The
empty
table. Her stomach plummeted. She slumped her shoulders just as a tall man stomped toward the exit. He brushed past her, nudging her shoulder as he made his way outside. He sure seemed in a hurry.

That’s him
.

Sydney spun. Watched the way he strode down the sidewalk, determined. When her brain caught up with her feet, she was hot on his tail. “Excuse me.” She skipped a step to stay up with him, despite his ignoring her. “Excuse me!” She caught his arm.

He whirled toward her, scowling.

“Syd, no!” Holden’s voice carried down the street at the same time she registered what a stupid thing it was to chase and stop this contact. She’d probably just ruined everything. He’d never tell her anything, and this trip would be for nothing.

No, she couldn’t accept that. She took a step back, feeling the presence of Holden and Lane behind her. “I’m sorry,” she said to the man. “I’m looking for a friend, someone to help me.”

He glanced down, and only then did she realize she was again holding her baby bump. Unnerved, she slowly slid her hand away and held his gaze.

“You’re late,” he growled.

It was a good thing he was talking—and not shooting or strangling her, right? “I’m here now.”

Again, he looked at her belly, and she wished she could crawl into a hole. “This must be very important to you if you’re willing to risk your unborn child.”

Heat flared up her shoulders and neck, straight into her cheeks. “Risk?” She tried to steady the crack in her voice. “I thought you could be trusted.”

Like the ebbing tide, his foul mood bled away, and he smiled. “Two days. Ashburn Hotel. Dawn. Come alone.” With that, he was gone.

With puffed cheeks, she blew out a long, exhausting breath.

“Sydney?”

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder at Lane and Holden. “We did it.”

Holden patted her shoulder. “No, you did it. And you were awesome. Who’d have thought your pregnancy would save us.”

“Pregnancy? Is it true? The man asked about your unborn child.” Sandy blond brows dug toward Lane’s eyes. “How … why didn’t you tell me?”

Holden chortled. “You’re going to tell me you didn’t know?”

Lane’s shoulders drooped. “I—I’d noticed she’d put on weight, but …” Lane’s shock shifted, darkening his face with anger. “No, I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know? Why did you tell him?”

Irritation skidded up her spine. “I didn’t tell anyone, Lane.”

He pointed to Holden. “How did he know?”

“For cryin’ out loud. How could you
not
know? You’re around her every day.”

Red colored Lane’s cheeks. He balled his fists. “We’re going back on the next plane.”

Sydney stopped cold. “Excuse me?”

“You’re pregnant!”

“Yes, pregnant, not paralyzed.”

“What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt? Max would kill you—no, he’d kill
me
because I was here with you.”

“Max is living his own life, okay?” Tears welled, threatening her composure. “And what I’m doing here is important. I won’t walk away just because things get a little tough. And in case you didn’t notice, that man just gave us a green light
because
of my baby.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his overcoat, his gaze bouncing to the street. Slowly, those green eyes came back to her, wounded. “Syd, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I think your feelings for
Mrs
. Jacobs clouded your perception.” Holden directed them to his car. “We need to get back to the hotel and find out where the Ashburn is.”

And she could only hope her baby’s role in this meant
good
things. Not danger. Or death.

W
hat is that smell?” Max stopped and shielded his nose.

“Durian,” Midas said, pointing his machete toward a tree ten yards east. “They’re all over the place. Strong odor, very potent flesh.” He nudged aside tall grass and speared a fallen prickly fruit with the tip of the blade. “A very … unique scent.”

“Disgusting is more like it.”

“Oy!” Fix tied a black rag around his face.

“Because of the odor, they’re banned in Singapore.”

“Next mission is there.” With a grunt, Max shook off the lingering stench and regained his bearings. Glancing at the blue-green screen strapped to his wrist, he scrolled the map up and monitored the progress since leaving the hotel early that morning. He sketched the tree and prickly fruit then tucked the paper and pencil into the pocket on his right leg. “Let’s head northeast.” A hot, sticky breeze rifled the rag he wiped over his face, and he kept moving.

Midas stopped. “That’s toward the mountains.”

“I know.”

Fix shifted his weapon propped over his arm. “But the radicals—”

“Are up there.” Max smiled at his teammate. “Don’t worry, Fix. We aren’t going to get far enough for a close encounter of any kind. I want to test the terrain.” Who knew? They could get locked into a firefight during the mission and have to hoof it into the mountains. He prayed it didn’t come to that. It’d be like David against Goliath.

The thought smacked him hard as they wove through the dense foliage. What was the point of remembering and focusing on that—to find out how far from God’s heart he really was? No thanks. He already knew he didn’t measure up.

Another hour bathed in thick humidity and mosquitoes ate—literally—into Max. Good thing he’d had vaccines to stave off malaria. Swiping the sweat from his brow, he paused and removed the map, eyeing a crooked, twisted tree sprouting up out of the boulder. He scratched it out along with a few more landmarks then consulted the GPS. “Okay, there should be a river outlet just over that ridge.”

“There’s a village nearby.”

Max shook his head. “Not in our intel.”

“Water source. Trust me,” Midas said. “There’s a village nearby.”

“Possibly. But nothing on the GPS or intel, so we should have a clear shot to the river.” Which meant a swift exit. Max squinted up at the sun. “We’re running out of daylight.”

“Let’s spot it and get back.” Fix stretched his back. “I need a bed and at least two hours’ consecutive sleep.”

“Sorry, we’ll be up half the night planning.”

Midas laughed. “Assuming everything goes well here.”

Shooting the man a glare, he stored his supplies. Canyon Metcalfe had been an enigma from day one. He kept to himself mostly but displayed an almost casual arrogance. He obviously knew the area very well. He’d been here before. When? And come to think of it, the former Green Beret had never divulged much about his past.

Max narrowed an eye. What was the guy hiding? “Let’s check it out.”

They scurried the last dozen yards and pressed their bodies to the earth as they peeked over the small crest. Max jerked back, hunching and curling away. A hut lay almost within an arm’s reach below. Shock spiraled through him, but he eased his head forward. Through a bramble of leaves and branches, he saw a dozen or so women gathered around a fire pit. Children darted here and there. The most disturbing part was the armed men lounging around the fire opposite the women.

Midas was right. Max dragged himself out of view. Using hand signals, he motioned Midas and Fix back so they could come up around the other side and get a better vantage.

Out of earshot, he sighed. “Where did they come from?”

“My point exactly. And by the looks, there are hundreds.”

Max bit the curse on his tongue. They’d have to figure out a whole new route. “I’m going to need extra time. Have to go out tonight.”

“No way.” Midas gaped. “If you pull an all-nighter, you’ll be dead on your feet.”

“Either way, that’s the outcome. If I don’t, there’s no escape route. If I do, we have the route, but we’ll be exhausted.” He grinned and patted the man’s shoulder. “Like a walk in the park, eh?”

A slow smile seeped into Midas’s face, as if he enjoyed the brutality of their job. “If by park you mean a malaria-infested, stench-doused park, then yeah, a walk in the park.” He fell into step behind Max as they trudged around the rim and dropped to all fours.

Max’s heart thrummed as he yanked the cloth from his mouth. How could so many be settled without intel knowing? By the weapons, he guessed the men were expecting trouble. After quickly sketching the vast village on the map, he back-crawled to safety.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon working their way back down to the coastal city where the team had taken up residence. He’d made voice contact with Cowboy, Legend, and the Kid, who should be crawling down from the stronghold in the mountain with their reconnaissance information.

As they came to the edge of the thick vegetation, Max scanned the beach. “We’re early.”

“Not by my watch,” Legend’s deep, familiar voice boomed. “’Bout time you showed up.”

Max tensed, watching as Legend, Cowboy, and the Kid emerged from a thick banana grove. He loved the way they seemed to bleed from the jungle itself, their stealth and reconnaissance skills unrivaled. “You always sit around and let others do all the work?”

“Whenever possible, my friend,” Legend taunted. “Whenever possible.”

“Anything interesting?” Cowboy motioned them onto the beach.

“Like a village full of women and children and well-armed tangos right on the river?” Max shrugged his pack off and let it drop to the sand.

Cowboy and Legend’s faces bore the gravity of the situation. They stood in a semicircle, no one speaking. Legend rubbed his jaw then nodded. “Go on.”

Camped out on the sandy stretch of coast, Max flattened his map over his leg and explained the route he’d chosen and the roadblock. “I’ll head out when the moon’s at its zenith and scout another path. We’ll meet up here.” He pointed to a grove of trees he’d drawn and looked at Cowboy. “How long will it take you and Griff to get in position?”

“To clear that and remain invisible? Two days.”

Max nodded. “Midas, Fix, and I will figure out the route, and we’ll move into position on the north side of the encampment so we can slide in and out.” He glanced up at the Marine buddies. “Did you actually see the targets?”

“Yeah,” Cowboy said. “Our objectives are exactly where we were told, and if I assessed the situation right, the girl we’re here for is with them. A third heat signature registered with the family, and I’m sure she’s holed up with them.”

“Good.”

Frowning, Cowboy drew in a long breath and slowly let it out. “There’s a problem.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “They went to high ground—which essentially surrounded them by radicals.”

Max whistled. “That means hiking up the mountain will be brutal, but …”

Midas leaned in. “Getting back down will be deadly.”

“Especially with three more people—people who aren’t trained.”

“Actually, there’s four.” Legend pursed his lips then smiled. “The missionaries have a small child, one or two years old.”

Fix groaned. “We’ll have to sedate the kid. No way we can trust him to keep quiet.”

“It gets better,” Legend groused. “It seems our missionaries are being held by a group known as the Higanti.”