Читать книгу One Night With The Valkyrie - Jane Godman - Страница 12

Chapter 5

Adam slowed the car as they approached the border. Edith had explained that this was not a recognized checkpoint. The gap in the border wall was not meant to be there, but corrupt officials were turning a blind eye to its existence. The men who were guarding the border were smugglers. They would allow Adam and Tarek to cross for a price. She had stressed that they were ruthless bandits who would not hesitate to kill them if they thought it would be more advantageous. In addition to her car, Edith had given Adam one of the guns they had taken from the Reapers. It rested in the well between the front seats, out of sight, but within reach if he needed it. A constant reminder of the danger they were in.

Adam surveyed the scene. He was used to skirmishes, but prior to his arrival in Syria, they had been of the bloodless variety. He knew his business opponents would describe him as a killer...within the corporate environment. Ruthless and without scruples, Adam had a reputation for doing whatever it took to achieve his goals. He stayed within the law, but it was well known that if there was a way to bend the rules, Adam Lyon would find it.

But this? Facing a group of five armed outlaws, miles from anywhere, with only his wits, a gun and a pocketful of hundred dollar bills? This was outside his experience. Add in the fact that he had taken on responsibility for an eight-year-old child—and a dog, don’t forget the damn dog—and the whole situation strayed into the realms of the ridiculous.

He turned his head to say as much to Maja, but she had vanished. Although the passenger-side window was fully wound down, Adam hoped she was still with him, poised for a fight. Since they hadn’t discussed tactics, he couldn’t be sure. That was the problem with invisible companions. They were hell when it came to communication.

The men halted their game of cards as the car approached. One man rose to his feet and, with his machine gun held in an ostentatious pose across his chest, raised a hand for Adam to stop. With a pounding heart, he hit the brakes and wound down his window.

“Do you speak English?” Adam asked. His heart rate spiked further as the man looked in the rear window at Tarek’s sleeping figure.

“A little.” He came back and leaned on the roof of the car. “You want to cross the border?”

Relieved that he didn’t have to embark on a lengthy explanation, Adam nodded. “How much?”

A speculative look crossed the other man’s face as he eyed Adam, then the car. “Wait here.”

Abruptly, he turned away and strode back to his companions. Adam watched as they talked among themselves for a few minutes. There was much gesturing and pointing in Adam’s direction. He wished he could hear what they were saying. Were they discussing how high to set the price? Or deciding whether to kill him and Tarek, take the car and their belongings and dump their bodies in the desert?

Just when the tension was becoming unbearable, Adam’s attention was drawn to another man. He had moved slightly to one side of the group and, while the others were talking, he seemed to be distracted. Every now and then, he would raise a hand as though swatting a fly. His movements gradually became more pronounced, until he appeared to be shadow-boxing an invisible opponent.

Adam felt a tiny flicker of hope flare inside him at the thought. An invisible opponent. He had been worrying that all he had was his wits and a pistol, when in reality there was a far more powerful weapon on his side all along.

The man reeled back, raising his hands and clawing at his throat. His face darkened and his eyes bulged. As he dropped to his knees, his companions finally became aware that something was wrong, and rushed to his aid. It was too late—the man’s head was wrenched around to the right with a sickening twist and he was flung facedown in the dirt. The others halted in their tracks, their expressions stunned.

Immediately, another of the men staggered as his head jerked sharply back, and he cried out in shock. He covered his face with both hands, but blood gushed from between his fingers. Adam’s best guess was that someone—that same invisible someone—had kicked him in the face, breaking his nose and probably loosening several teeth.

Panic broke out among the group as a third member dropped like a stone. Clutching his groin, he curled up in the fetal position, a high wail issuing from his lips. Adam allowed himself a brief moment of masculine sympathy. Maja was clearly fighting hard in every direction. He was just thankful she was on his side. That superhuman strength in the form of a kick in the balls wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience.

The remaining two reached for their guns, turning toward Adam as they made the connection between him and the mayhem being unleashed. Adam reached for his own in the same instant that Maja became visible. Stooping to pick up a weapon discarded by one of the fallen men, she shot another bandit in the back as he approached the car.

Four down. At the same time, Adam fired a shot through the car’s open window, hitting the fifth man squarely in the chest.

It was the second time he had killed a man in two days. He had known when he came to Syria that he was entering a country where his own life would be in danger. Had he envisaged a situation in which he would be forced to kill? Perhaps it had been at the back of his mind. It didn’t make him feel any better. Didn’t take away the feelings of nausea and guilt. Telling himself that this man and the terrorist back at the mission would have murdered him without a second thought didn’t alter his feelings. Something inside him had changed when he pulled the trigger. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it again.

“Get in.” He gestured to Maja as he viewed the scene. They were leaving dead and wounded bandits in their wake. He doubted the authorities would be too concerned, but he didn’t want to hang around to find out. He grinned at her as she slid into the seat next to him. “We have a border to cross.”

* * *

“Thank you.”

Adam’s eyes were warm on her face as he spoke, and Maja took a moment to enjoy the sensation. After crossing the border into Lebanon, they had traveled for a few more hours until they reached the old coastal city of Batroun. The peaceful blue-and-gold harbor was such a contrast to the strife they had left behind in Warda that it was a shock to her system. Tranquility was outside her experience. When she came to the mortal realm, she entered scenes of bloody battle. This was a new phenomenon.

As she sat on the harbor wall, the warm sea breeze tugged strands of hair loose from her braid and caressed her face. Below them, Tarek threw sticks for Leo to chase along the sand. It was easy to imagine, for a moment, that they were here to enjoy the beach scene.

This mortal capacity to keep going was something that amazed Maja. This land had been ripped apart by war, yet its people continued to find happiness in their daily pursuits. And in each other. The thought brought her back to Adam. Everything brought her back to Adam.

She forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying instead of how he made her feel. Because how he made her feel was dangerous. Exciting, arousing...but forbidden. Was that part of the attraction? If this attraction had been allowed, would it be as powerful? Was this all part of her rebellious streak?

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For saving my life. At the last count, it was three times.” He grinned, and it was as if he had just poured boiling water over her. Instantly, her whole body was burning with longing. With an effort, Maja restrained herself from clambering into his lap. “Are you sure you’re a Valkyrie and not my guardian angel?”

“No. A guardian angel is assigned to protect and guide an individual. We have no training in that role.”

She was about to embark on a more detailed explanation of the differences when Adam caught hold of her hand. Laughing, he raised it to his lips. The action silenced her. Very effectively. It also made her blush all over.

“I was joking.” He lowered her hand, but kept it in his, placing it on his leg and holding it there. “Teasing you.”

“Oh.” Maja was still recovering from the brush of his lips on her hand. Now she had to cope with the sensation of his hard thigh muscles beneath her palm. How many different ways was he going to torture her? “I don’t know much about these things.”

“Don’t tell me... Odin doesn’t encourage the Valkyries to have fun?” Adam raised a brow.

“We don’t have time for enjoyment.”

That made him laugh even more. Maja watched him with mild bewilderment. She didn’t know what she’d said to provoke his mirth, but she liked it. Originating deep in his chest, the sound of his laughter washed over her, warm and pleasant. His shoulders shook and she could see the muscles of his abdomen tightening beneath his T-shirt. It was an extension of his smile, a joyful sound that made her want to join in, even though she wasn’t sure why.

When he had recovered enough to be able to speak, there was still a suspicion of breathlessness in his voice. “Maja, the last few days haven’t given me much to celebrate, but you have been one of the high notes.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Is that good?”

“Yes, it’s good.” Briefly, he squeezed her hand before releasing it. “Now stop making me laugh. It hurts my shoulder.”

They had come to the beach in search of the contact Edith had suggested to them, Ali El-Amin.

Having eaten bread, olives and minced lamb at one of the restaurants on the main harbor road, they were waiting now for the last of the fishing boats to return. Ali’s wife had described his boat to Tarek. Blue and white, she had said, with a picture of a butterfly on the side.

“There!” Tarek ran up to them, pointing excitedly in the direction of the water. “There is the boat with the butterfly.”

Adam raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the still bright sunlight. Maja followed the direction of his gaze. Sure enough, Ali’s boat was being dragged ashore. The man who was hauling it was young and stocky. He looked tired and dispirited as he secured his vessel and spoke briefly to some of the other fishermen. His attitude suggested disappointment with the day’s catch.

Adam got to his feet and Maja rose with him. “Let’s go and see if we can buy ourselves an illegal boat trip to Cyprus.”

* * *

Ali’s expression was suspicious as he listened to Tarek’s interpretation of Adam’s request. When he spoke, his response was brief and dismissive. Hunching a shoulder, he turned back to his fishing nets.

“He said he is not a smuggler.” Tarek’s small body drooped with disappointment.

“Ask him how much. Say he can name his price,” Adam said.

Tarek spoke again. Although Ali continued with his task, Adam got the feeling he was listening to the boy’s words. Or am I deceiving myself? Having come this far, am I refusing to believe we can’t make the final step?

The problem was it felt too final. He had come here to find Danny and he was going home without him. Coming to Syria had been a long shot. It was a country with a unique set of problems. Communicating, traveling, finding information about his brother...they had all proven every bit as difficult as he had anticipated. Faced with a choice between doing nothing and making an attempt to find Danny, Adam had felt obliged to try. The realist in him told him this was always the likeliest outcome, that he would leave—if he got away at all—without any information. That stubborn streak he had? It was telling him the search wasn’t over.

Adam was exhausted, running on adrenaline and determination. The strength of will that got him through the toughest deals was about all that was keeping him upright. He knew what his rivals said of him. Arrogant. Obstinate. Inflexible. Those were among the more generous labels he had heard applied to himself. As long as he got his way, Adam didn’t care what they called him.

Now, his shoulder was in agony and the strong, reliable body that he pushed so hard in his day-to-day life was sending him insistent messages that it needed rest. This trip wasn’t like the usual demands he made on himself. This wasn’t like a fourteen-hour-day at work, followed by a sleepless night. Shock, blood loss, disappointment, and exhaustion had all taken their toll. If he didn’t get to safety soon, he would collapse.

But there was something other than his own willpower keeping him going. He cast a sidelong glance at Maja. The evening sunlight lent a golden tint to her skin and the breeze blew tendrils of hair that had escaped from her braid about her face. She raised a hand to brush them away, and even that simple gesture caught him full force. She was stunning and he could watch her forever. Every movement and expression held him spellbound.

Maja’s presence was energizing him. Not only because she had come to his rescue so many times during this adventure. He wasn’t sure he’d have survived without her, but there was more to it than the way she had rescued him from physical harm. Her allure was keeping his waning strength going. It wasn’t macho posturing around an attractive woman. Adam had never succumbed to that sort of display of virility. And without being vain, he knew he didn’t need it now. The attraction between them was mutual. He had the memory of the most explosive sex of his life as proof. But he also felt it in the highly charged atmosphere. Maja was too inexperienced to hide her feelings. Even so, he wasn’t sure subterfuge was an option for either of them. The magnetism was overpowering. Despite the danger they faced, Maja was uppermost in his mind. Pushing out all other thoughts, she was spurring him on.

“He said you can’t afford his price.” Tarek’s voice intruded into his thoughts.

Reluctantly, Adam withdrew his gaze from Maja. Reaching into the concealed pocket in his jacket, he withdrew the wad of hundred dollar bills. “Tell him this is a deposit.”

Adam was prepared to do whatever it took to get them to Cyprus, where his credit card would be good again and his cell phone would work. Somehow, having been to Syria, he felt closer to Danny. He understood Danny’s motives. Adam wasn’t giving up on his younger brother. He never would. I should have stopped him. Even though Adam had tried to talk Danny out of coming to this part of the world, he couldn’t shake the feelings of guilt. The sense that he could have done more, then and now. Tried harder to talk Danny out of it. Been more persuasive. Traveled to more of those sorry, ruined towns. Spoken to more sad-eyed people.

Ali’s attitude changed dramatically at the sight of the cash. Along with a new enthusiasm came an ability to speak English. Casting a quick glance around, he beckoned Adam closer. “Not here. Meet me at the Masa Bar. Ten minutes.” He gestured to one of the beach bars before turning back to his nets.

The Masa Bar was already filling up, but Adam found a table overlooking the beach. Ordering beer for himself and Ali, and soda for Tarek and Maja, he sank back in the comfortable chair.

“I may never get up again,” he sighed. Leo, obviously approving of this plan, curled up on his feet.

It soon became clear why Ali had chosen to meet here. The thumping beat of the music and the constant chatter of the noisy customers meant that, although their conversation had to be conducted in a shout, no one could overhear what they were saying. When Ali joined them, he drained half his beer appreciatively before he spoke.

“I can take you to Cyprus, but it is not easy.”

Adam patted his jacket pocket. “I’ll pay.”

Ali shook his head. “Go to Turkey instead. Much easier.”

“No.” Adam wasn’t budging on this.

Ali sighed and gestured for a waiter to bring him another beer. “You are a US citizen, yes? Why not call your embassy? They will get you out of here.”

“The boy is Syrian.” It explained everything. Syrian refugees were an international problem. Desperate to escape their own land, they had exhausted all the escape routes into neighboring countries.

“Ah.” Ali turned to Maja. “And you?”

She seemed confused, so Adam came to her rescue. “It’s complicated.”

Ali accepted the explanation without comment, appearing lost in thought as he drained his second beer. “Okay. The weather will be good tonight. We leave at midnight.”

* * *

In the hours between meeting Ali at the Masa Bar and joining him on the boat, they attempted to get some sleep in the car. Tarek dozed, but Maja stayed awake and worried about Adam. He looked increasingly weary. His face was pale and the fine lines about his eyes appeared more pronounced. Although he closed his eyes and leaned back in the driver’s seat, she got the feeling he didn’t sleep. When the time came, they abandoned Edith’s car in a side street and joined Ali at the harbor.

Maja was surprised when Ali led them to a dinghy instead of to the fishing boat they had seen earlier.

“Faster,” he explained as she climbed carefully into the small craft. “I am using my brother’s speedboat. We can reach Cyprus in under two hours this way.”

Maja didn’t like water. It was a fact she had decided not to mention to Adam. He had enough worries to contend with without introducing her phobias into the situation. Besides, they were getting to Cyprus by boat; they weren’t swimming.

The sea was mirror-still as the motor-powered dinghy skimmed across the water and Batroun disappeared in the moonlight. Within minutes, the dinghy bumped the side of the speedboat. Ali secured it to the stern of the larger vessel.

Even though there was no light except that thrown out by the full moon, Ali sprang nimbly from the dinghy onto the rear of the speedboat. Holding out a hand, he helped each of them in turn onto the deck. Handing out life jackets, he explained that they should remain seated during the journey. He also gave Tarek a length of rope and instructed him to keep Leo leashed the whole time.

“I am not turning back if your dog goes overboard.”

Within minutes the boat had chugged to life and they were gliding over the dark waters. Tarek soon became engrossed in the technicalities of what Ali was doing, and their conversation switched to Arabic. Ali seemed content to answer the questions the boy fired at him, and Maja turned to look at Adam, who was leaning back in one of the cushioned seats that lined the deck.

“You have pushed yourself hard,” she said.

“What choice is there?” Adam nodded in Tarek’s direction. “What happens to him if I crumble?”

Although she understood what he was saying, she was confused by the depth of his commitment to Tarek, a child he had only just met. Maja shared the same determination to ensure the boy was safe and well, but she had an advantage over Adam. She was invincible, while he was hurting, driving himself to his physical limits.

He hadn’t talked much about his brother, but it was clear he had wanted to find him. Maja understood responsibility. But there was more than duty in Adam’s eyes when he looked at the man in the photograph. There was an emotion so powerful it tugged at her heart. But there were other feelings as well, ones she couldn’t name. They were similar to the ones that made her want to wrap her arms around Tarek and protect him from harm.

“Was there an alternative to this?” she murmured.

Although they were in darkness, he turned toward her and she could see his face in the moonlight. He raised a questioning brow.

“Was there another way to help Tarek without putting yourself at risk?”

He lifted his good shoulder in a one-sided shrug. “You saw those guys who came to the mission. They weren’t playing nice. If they’d found Tarek, they would have killed him, because they suspect he knows the name of their leader. He can tell the world who the Reaper is.” Adam gave a mirthless laugh. “What they don’t realize is the world won’t listen to him.”

“What does that mean?”

He shifted position slightly, resting his good arm on the seat cushions behind her. “I read an article some months ago that speculated about the very thing that Tarek said. It suggested that the Reaper wasn’t driven by religious or political motivation. I wonder now if the anonymous author of that piece could have been Tarek’s father. Whoever wrote it believed the Reaper was a large consortium or group of businesses.”

“Some of the warriors in the great hall at Valhalla died fighting this thing you mortals call terrorism. They thought they were battling against an ideology. I don’t understand how they could have died because of something that was run by a business.”

“Exactly. The article I read was widely discredited for that reason. No one was able to believe such a thing could happen. Even though, throughout history, appalling atrocities have been committed for monetary gain, it was impossible to believe that acts as awful as the Reaper’s brand of terrorism could be done for profit.”

The boat had changed course and Adam’s face was shadowed from the moonlight, but she could tell his expression was troubled.

“But Tarek said his father had proof of this man’s identity?”

“And he was prepared to go public with his name.” Adam lowered his voice as he cast a glance toward where Tarek was still chatting eagerly with Ali. “He died the day after he spoke it out loud.”

“You knew that name.” Maja studied his profile as he turned to look out over the moonlit water. “When Tarek told it to us, you knew who he meant.”

Adam was silent for so long she wondered if he wasn’t going to answer her. “Knight Valentine is one of the best-known names in the business world. He is a billionaire property developer. No one in their right mind would believe him capable of something like this.”

“So you think Tarek’s father was wrong?”

Maja felt there was something more to this. Intuition wasn’t necessary to the Valkyries. They needed to be strong. Get in, get the job done, get out. That was what made them effective. More wasn’t required. But where Adam was concerned, Maja was developing an extra sense. Now and then, she could tune in to his feelings. She didn’t understand why that was, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. It was outside her sphere of experience to get so close to another person. But it was there. She was stuck with it. Right now, she sensed his turmoil and something more. She thought it might be anger.

“No, I don’t think he was wrong.” He turned back to face her. “I know Knight Valentine well—too well for my liking—and I know there is nothing he wouldn’t do for money or power.”

“How do you know him so well?”

“Knight Valentine is my stepfather.”