The Reunion Mission (3 page)

His partner stowed his own canteen and stepped forward to help Nicole to her feet. Cajun Man lifted Tia into his arms and led the way with Nicole following and his partner—Alec, he’d called him—bringing up the rear. Though they were no longer running, they moved at a fast clip, and Nicole had trouble keeping up. The distance between the Cajun and Nicole widened by the minute, until, maybe an hour later, Alec finally cupped his hands around his mouth and made a shrill noise, something between a bird call and monkey. Cajun Man stopped, setting Tia on the ground, and Alec grabbed Nicole’s arm to hustle her forward.

“This is taking too long,” Cajun Man said as they approached, clearly agitated. “You go on,” he said to Alec. “Take the girl and tell Jake to get the chopper ready. I’ll stay with her, and we’ll be there...whenever.” His tone was full of frustration.

“Roger that.” Without further discussion, Alec lifted Tia into his arms and disappeared into the jungle foliage. A ripple of apprehension shimmied through Nicole. Not that she didn’t trust the Cajun, but having her rescue team halved felt like a dangerous move.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She pressed a hand to the stitch in her side.

“Normally, no.” He paused, the silence taut with recriminations. “But under the circumstances—”

She grunted defensively. “I’m sorry I’m slowing you down. But all those months in a cage without exercise have left me out of shape.”

He faced her and cocked his head as he studied her. The jungle shadows and his night vision goggles made him look like a strange insect from a sci-fi flick. “I know that.”

His tone was softer now, almost apologetic, and she slumped at the base of a tree. Yanking off the cumbersome goggles, she rubbed her aching temples with the heels of her hands. His mercurial moods baffled her, set her on edge. “Look, I appreciate the risks you’ve taken to get me out of that stink hole. I’m doing everything I can to cooperate. But sometimes it seems like you’re...” She waved a hand, searching for the right word, then dropped it limply to her lap again. “I don’t know...mad at me or something. Have I done something to tick you off?”

Cajun Man was silent, and without her goggles, he was nothing but a looming figure in the blackness. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but finally he murmured, “Not you. Your father.”

Her pulse kicked, and she sat taller. “What does any of this have to do with my father?”

“Everything,” he growled, then sighed heavily. “And nothing.”

She huffed her annoyance with his cryptic responses. “Which is it?”

“Let’s just say it’s bitterly ironic that I’m the one who’ll be bringing you home to your father.”

She blinked, befuddled by his word choice. “Ironic? Why?”

She sensed his hard gaze as a tingle skittered down her spine.

“Because your father tried to kill me.”

Chapter 3

A
laugh of disbelief erupted from Nicole. “No way! My father is not a murderer.” She scoffed and shook her head, amazed she was even debating such an absurd topic. “I may have had my differences with him in the past, but he’s an upstanding citizen and an honorable man. He’s a United States Senator, for heaven’s sake.”

The Cajun dropped quickly to a crouch in front of her, and she felt the stir of his breath when he jammed his face inches from hers to growl, “Not anymore. He was censured and later resigned.”

Nicole’s chest tightened. “Why?”

“Because he’s a traitor to the United States.”

She huffed indignantly. “That’s a lie! He’d never—”

“He did,” Cajun snarled. “I can
prove
that he negotiated with a terrorist and gave up classified information vital to national security, trying to get you released.” He paused, breathing hard. “And while I respect his goal—clearly I’ve risked my own life to get you out of this hellhole—I would
never
have betrayed my country to do it.”

Nausea swamped her gut, and she shook her head, trying to clear the confusing jumble of information that buzzed through her brain. “I—I don’t believe you.”

He grunted his disgust and impatience. “You don’t have to believe me. I know what I know.”

Nicole worked to form enough spit in her dry mouth to swallow. She fumbled to put her night vision goggles back on, to try again to identify her father’s accuser. “Who are you, and what is it you think he did? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

Cajun Man shoved to his feet again and angrily slapped a low-hanging branch out of his way. “A few months ago, he betrayed two American operatives working a top secret mission in enemy territory. He was trying to win your release, but...clearly, it didn’t work.”

Nicole’s stomach swirled, acid biting hard. “Wh-what happened to the operatives?”

He didn’t answer for several seconds, and dread screwed tighter in her chest.

“They took it upon themselves to rescue you, despite what your father almost cost them.”

Nicole drew a silent gasp as the earth beneath her pitched. “Y-you...?”

Rather than answer her, he flicked his hand, motioning for her to stand up. “Come on. Time to go.”

She gaped at him, too numb to move. “So...what? I’m some kind of pawn in your vendetta with my father?”

“Sounds about right. And it evens the score between you and me, too. Don’t you think?”

She shook her head, stunned and confused. “Am I supposed to know you?”

He snorted derisively. “Says a lot that you don’t.”

“Look, stop talking in riddles and tell me what’s going on! Who are you?” As hard as she was trying to keep her voice low, frustration and anger sharpened her tone.

“Get—” A loud pop cut the Cajun off and echoed through the dark jungle. Then a series of nerve-rattling cracks. Cajun Man barked a curse and yanked her to her feet. “Snipers! Run!”

Staggering, Nicole ran, fueled by fear. Cajun Man led the way, returning fire with his handgun. Around her bits of bark and dirt flew. The snipers’ bullets zinged past her. She charged forward, blindly following the Cajun.

Suddenly, with an agonized scream, he fell.

Nicole skidded to a stop and dropped behind the modest protection of a fallen tree. The Cajun dragged himself forward, clutching his left leg, and an icy chill raced through her. She scrambled to his side. “You’re hit?”

He pushed her away. “Forget me and go!” he rasped. “Straight ahead. Alec has the chopper—”

“I can’t leave you here!” She moved closer and, with the help of her night vision goggles, she saw the bloody mess that was his knee. “Oh, my God!”

Despite her medical training, her gut pitched. He had to be in excruciating pain. Staying low to avoid the continuing rain of sniper fire, she whipped her shirt over her head. Unmindful of her dishabille, she tore the shirt at the side seam.

“No time!” He batted her away when she tried to staunch his bleeding. “Go!”

Tears filled her eyes. “And leave you here to die? How heartless do you think I am?”

He rolled his head back, teeth gritted and his thick neck arched as he growled in pain. “Nicole!”

Desperation and adrenaline spurred her to action. Wrapping her shirt around his knee, she tied the fabric off, then grabbed the front of his shirt in a fist. “Get up, soldier!” He wasn’t the only one who could bark orders. “You
will
go with me. Now!”

She shoved her shoulder under his left armpit and struggled to get him upright and still stay behind the protection of the large tree.

Indecision bit Nicole. The Cajun was twice her size, and they were surrounded by snipers. How was she supposed to get them both to the helicopter safely?

The Cajun clearly read her dilemma, and with his superior strength, pried himself out of her grip. “Leave me, damn it! Run!”

Emotion clogged Nicole’s throat, but she choked out, “Promise you’ll follow.” He jerked a nod that didn’t quite convince her, but the hail of bullets seemed to be closing in. She stuck her face in the Cajun’s and shouted, “I’ll bring Alec back for you.”

“No!” he yelled as she turned to run.

Moisture not only blurred her vision, but in the hot jungle, her night vision goggles steamed up. Giving up on the goggles, she yanked them off and tossed them behind her as she plowed forward. The first thin rays of morning sun filtered through the jungle canopy, and with the watery light as a guide, she rushed toward what appeared to be a clearing ahead. The whir of a motor reached her over the pounding of her pulse and the pop of gunfire.

Please God, let that engine be Alec with the helicopter.

“Alec!” Screaming for his help took almost more breath than she had left. Surely he’d heard the gunfire. Where was—?

A hand grabbed her arm and swung her into the thick vegetation. She swallowed her gasp, recognizing the tall, dark-haired man still wearing his night vision goggles. “Alec!”

He shoved her behind him. “Keep your head down!” Leaning against a tree branch with an automatic weapon propped on his shoulder, Alec fired into the trees. “Jake’s got the chopper ready. That way!” He freed a hand long enough to push her toward the clearing.

She jerked away. “Where’s Tia?”

“On the chopper with Jake.”

She nodded in relief, then gasped, “Your partner was shot. We have to go back for him!” She started back the way she’d come, trusting Alec would follow.

“Nicole, wait!” He grabbed at her retreating back, but because she’d shed her shirt, he came up empty-handed. “Nicole!”

“Hurry!” She didn’t wait. Desperate to reach the Cajun, she pumped her legs, knocking palm fronds out of her way with her arm, retracing her steps, using tree trunks for cover and the thick foliage to camouflage her progress. The sun was slightly higher now. Shadowy forms separated from the thin gray light that seeped through the jungle ceiling. Terror coiled around her like a python, squeezing her chest, but she forcefully battled the fear down. She had to keep it together. Not just for her own sake, but for Tia. For Alec and for the Cajun who, even though he hated her for some unknown offense, had risked his life, taken a bullet in his leg, saving her.

Alec, moving so silently she didn’t hear him until he was upon her, pressed close behind Nicole, his automatic weapon at the ready.

The snipers’ fire had slacked off, although she still saw an occasional muzzle flash in the upper branches followed by the chilling thud of a bullet hitting the ground.

“Go back to the chopper. I’ll find him,” Alec growled.

They’d only gotten half of the way back to where she’d left the Cajun, and something deep inside her wouldn’t let her leave the jungle without him. She’d opened her mouth to argue, when one of the dark shadows moved with a lurch and a groan.

Nicole’s heart stutter-stepped in admiration and compassion. Despite the obvious pain he was in, the Cajun was struggling toward their extraction point. As he neared, she made out the branch he used as a crutch while he dragged his bloodied leg behind him. He’d taken off his goggles as she had, and no longer had his backpack. Everything in his body language, from his rigidly set jaw, taut mouth, fisted hands and forward canting body as he staggered through the jungle exuded a sheer grit and steely determination. This man was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor.

Your father tried to kill me.

Nicole shook her head to clear the baffling accusation from her thoughts. She’d have time to work through the Cajun’s assertions later. Right now, they had to get back to the helicopter.

She hurried toward him with Alec on her heels. Hearing them, Cajun jerked his head up, along with his gun.

She inhaled sharply. “Don’t shoot. It’s us.”

He blew out a harsh breath. “Damn it, Nicole! I told you not to—”

“I know what you said,” she countered, as Alec wedged himself under his partner’s left arm, and Nicole moved to his right side. “I chose to ignore your orders. I knew and accepted the risk of helping you.” She tensed her legs as he shifted some of his weight onto her and limped forward a couple steps. She angled a quick glance at his grimacing face and couldn’t resist adding, “I figure it evens the score between you and me.”

He stiffened. Whipped a startled look toward her. The thin dappled light still cast his face in shadow, but she felt the intensity of his glare. Without commenting, he hobbled forward. “Faster. I can take it.”

“But you’re—” The rat-a-tat of an automatic weapon echoed through the jungle behind them, getting closer.

“Don’t baby me,” he snarled. “Let’s move!”

Holding tightly to his arm, his waist, Nicole half jogged, half staggered as she and Alec all but dragged the Cajun. He screamed in pain but demanded they keep up their pace. By the time they reached the clearing where the chopper waited, her legs were jelly, and her arm muscles quivered. As they left the line of trees, Alec shoved his weapon at her and hoisted his partner over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Cover us!”

Nicole gaped at the automatic weapon in her hands and shuddered. She’d only seen guns like this one fired. Had never held, much less fired, one.

But a new hail of bullets peppered the clearing as Alec ran for the chopper door with the Cajun across his back. Nicole swung the big gun up and fired toward the muzzle flashes in the jungle. Spinning on her heel, she darted across the open field, praying that everything she’d heard about moving targets was true. She kept her eyes fixed on the open door of the helicopter. Inside, she could see Tia in her pink shorts, huddled with her hands over her ears.

Alec dumped his partner unceremoniously on the floor of the chopper, then ran to the copilot’s seat, yelling to the pilot, “Take off, cowboy!”

Panting for breath, Nicole dove into the open side of the chopper. The instant she was aboard, the helicopter lurched off the ground. Her stomach pitched as they ascended and swooped over the treetops. Dropping the weapon in her hands as if it were a rattlesnake, Nicole gasped for air and took a mental survey. She was in one piece, even though nicks and cuts on her arms and legs trickled blood.

And Tia was safe—even if the gunfire and tumult had clearly revived whatever nightmare she’d survived earlier. Nicole scuttled awkwardly across the rocking helicopter floor until she reached the frightened child.

With a whimper, Tia wrapped her arms around Nicole and buried her face on her shoulder. Tia’s warm tears dripped onto Nicole’s skin, reminding her that she’d sacrificed her shirt to the Cajun’s knee, so she wore only a bra. She closed her eyes and sighed, unable to find the energy to care. Modesty seemed a ludicrous indulgence in light of the situation.

“Nicole...” The strangled-sounding voice was almost lost in the roar of the helicopter turbines.

She raised her head to meet the Cajun’s gaze. His dark eyes were wild with agony, and his face contorted in misery when the chopper hit an air pocket, jostling him. She hated seeing him suffer, no matter what vile allegations he’d leveled against her father. Whatever his reasons, his agenda, he
had
saved her—and Tia—from that cesspool prison camp.

“Ni-cole,” he repeated and held a hand out, summoning her to come closer.

Giving Tia a reassuring smile, she untangled herself from the child’s grip and moved to his side.

Nicole grasped his hand with one of hers and stroked his stubble-covered face with her other hand, wishing she could do something, anything to ease his pain. At that moment, the morning sun broke over the tops of the trees and shone through the open side door of the helicopter, casting his rugged face in sharp relief. For the first time, she could truly see the man who’d risked his life for her. Even with heavy black stubble covering his jaw, mud smudged on his cheeks and his features drawn in a grimace of pain, her Cajun rescuer was a devastatingly handsome man. Her heart clenched, and the prickle of déjà vu returned. He seemed so familiar….

“I...need—” He stopped, clenching his teeth and growling in torment. “Please...I need—”

Tears puddled in her eyes. “What do you need? Tell me.”

She had no idea what medical supplies, painkillers or other provisions the helicopter had, but she’d move heaven and earth to get him the best care when they were back in the States.

He drew a couple shallow breaths, his jaw tightening again. “I need to know...you remember.” He swallowed hard, his eyes drilling into hers. “Tell me...you remember.”

His request, and the obvious emotional distress behind it, rattled her. Witnessing his physical pain was hard enough. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but the tortured plea in his eyes stole her breath and her resolve.

“I remember,” she lied, leaning closer to be sure he heard her.

He held her gaze for a moment, sweat beading on his forehead and expectant hope lighting his gaze. Then he scowled darkly and jerked his gaze away. He ground his back teeth together and scrunched his face in agony.

With lightning speed, he seized the back of her head and wound his fingers in her hair so tightly her scalp prickled. She gasped, as he pulled her down so that her face hovered right above his. “Then say my name!”