Читать книгу The Phoenix Encounter - Linda Castillo - Страница 12

Lily’s knees trembled as she walked down the narrow hall toward the main room of the cottage. Robert had only been there an hour, and already she was a wreck. She honestly didn’t know how she was going to get through this. It was bad enough having Robert in the cottage, dredging up all the old emotions. But it was infinitely worse knowing Jack could be seriously ill. She’d suffered so many losses in her life. She didn’t think she could bear it if something happened to her precious child.

In the last hour it seemed as if every nerve in her body had been stripped bare and exposed. Every new bit of information had those nerves jumping like a bad tooth prodded with a sharp instrument. Her entire world had been rocked off its foundation when she’d seen Robert standing on her porch, glaring at her with those cool blue eyes.

Because she couldn’t seem to get herself settled down, Lily took a few minutes to stack some logs on the grate in the hearth. When the fire was blazing and she finally ran out of things to do, she turned to face Robert. He’d taken one of two chairs and was staring at her intently, as if she were a puzzle that had just befuddled him.

“Stop looking at me that way,” she snapped.

“I’m just trying to figure out what you’ve gotten yourself into since I left.”

“I haven’t gotten myself into anything.”

“Yeah, I guess you blindfold all your visitors.”

“That’s just a precaution. In case you haven’t noticed there’s a civil war going on.”

“I’ve noticed,” he shot back. “I’ve noticed a lot of things since I’ve been here, and I’ve yet to get a straight answer out of you about any of them.”

She tried to laugh but didn’t quite manage.

“What the hell are you up to, Lily?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The bits and pieces I’m getting from you don’t fit,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story?”

She glared at him. “And what story would that be?”

“The one that explains what you’re still doing in this godforsaken country with an innocent child in tow.”

Because she was much more comfortable with anger than any of the other emotions boiling inside her, she held on to it with the desperation of a drowning woman hanging on to a float. “I got caught up in the movement,” she snapped. “Is that mysterious enough for you?”

“You were involved with the rebels before…I left the first time. Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Letting out a shuddery breath, she sank into the second chair and looked into the fire. “Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed, damn it. Don’t lie to me.”

Her eyes met his, and within their depths he saw the memories, felt them in his heart the way he had a thousand times in the months since he’d last seen her. A young doctor and an American journalist in a strange land surrounded by ugliness and danger. Two people longing for their homeland, but bound by their love of freedom and a responsibility to help those unable to help themselves. Robert and Lily had spent their days doing what they could to breathe life into a country dying a slow death of oppression. By day, Robert inoculated children, treating the innocent for disease and malnutrition and neglect. Lily wrote her articles, sending them to newspapers in London, New York and Frankfurt, and visited the orphans, the children whose parents had been killed in the war. The children no one cared about.

By night, Lily and Robert met in a smoky little pub, exchanging stories, decompressing, laughing on the outside because inside they felt like crying. For a few short hours they escaped the war, talking about all the things they wanted to do with their lives, their hopes and dreams and plans for the future. Surrounded by despair and destruction and hopelessness, they found peace and their own tiny slice of paradise. They fell in love in that dank little pub. The most unlikely of places that led them to something extraordinary and breathtaking….

Lily shoved the memories away with brutal precision, the way she’d done a thousand times in the last twenty-one months, but she wasn’t fast enough to keep them from cutting her. Instead of giving in to the hot burn of tears, or memories that had been seared into her brain like a brand, she took a deep breath and looked at Robert.

“Things were looking hopeless for the freedom fighters,” she began. “There had been so many good men killed. Families devastated by grief. All because they wanted to be free. DeBruzkya was putting out a lot of propaganda, telling the world how he was going to turn the country around. He’s a very charismatic man. A politician and dynamic speaker capable of rallying huge numbers of people and making them believe him. Facts were hard to come by. People wanted to believe him. They want to believe in the goodness of people. They wanted desperately to believe that he would rebuild their nation. They didn’t have a clue about his firing squads or that he didn’t have the slightest intention of turning Rebelia into a democracy.”

Realizing her hands had turned suddenly icy, she held them to the fire and continued. “Most people were so involved with just trying to survive, they didn’t know what was going on with the revolution. But having spent time with the freedom fighters, I knew exactly what was happening. I saw what DeBruzkya was doing. And I knew the single most powerful thing I could do was tell the truth to the people.” She shrugged. “I began putting out a monthly newsletter. At first it was just a way for me to get my thoughts down on paper and exchange ideas with others. But over the months that newsletter slowly evolved into a sort of underground newspaper.”

Sitting a few feet away, Robert listened intently. He didn’t look happy about what she was telling him. But Lily wasn’t going to let his disapproval influence her one way or another.

“My newspaper is called the Rebellion,” she said. “I put it out weekly, updating people on where to find medicine for their children, where DeBruzkya’s soldiers have been, where the bombing is expected to take place, where to find food, what the freedom fighters have been doing to save their country, where the secret rallies are being held. People want to be free. They want to know if the soldiers are going to come to their village.”

“How is the newspaper distributed?”

“Mostly through e-mail, but many don’t have access to computers, so several young men who aren’t yet old enough to fight, but still want to be involved, deliver the newspaper.”

Robert cursed mildly. “You know DeBruzkya will kill you if he finds out what you’re doing.”

She withheld the shiver that crept up her spine. Lily knew better than anyone what the general was capable of. “That’s why I’m concerned about taking Jack to the hospital. If DeBruzkya spots me…”

“Jack needs a blood test. If we can’t do it at the hospital in Rajalla, then we’ve got to go elsewhere.”

“The other hospitals have been destroyed.”

Robert swore under his breath.

“I’ll just have to…be careful. Robert, I can do it. I’m good at being careful.”

Robert cut her a hard look. “How well does DeBruzkya know your face?”

Lily stared at him, not wanting to answer because she knew he would overreact.

For several long minutes, the only sounds came from the rain pinging against the tin roof and the crackle of the fire. When the silence became unbearable, she rose and crossed to the kitchen. There, she removed a dusty bottle of French cognac and poured a small portion into two snifters.

In the living room, she handed one to Robert. “I think you’re going to need this.”

He accepted the snifter, swirled the golden liquid within. “That sounds distinctly ominous.”

“It is.” She took the chair and sipped the amber liquid, let it burn away some of the nerves. “Before Jack was born, I…met with General DeBruzkya. Several times. Under false pretenses.”

For an instant she thought Robert was going to come out of his chair. “You what?”

She glanced toward the bedroom. “Quiet, or you’ll wake Jack.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this.”

“What were you thinking, meeting with DeBruzkya? Lily, are you crazy?”

“You’ve heard the term keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer….”

“I don’t think that means snuggling up with a viper.”

She would have smiled if the situation hadn’t been so dire. God, she missed American sarcasm. Robert’s dry humor had always made her laugh, even when things were bleak. She missed that, too. She didn’t want to admit it, but she missed a lot of things about this man. “I interviewed the general under the pretenses of my writing his autobiography.”

Robert shook his head. “Lily…”

“He has an ego.”

“He’s also a sociopath. I can’t believe you would put yourself at risk like that.”

“I was careful. We always met him in public places. The bistro over on Balboa Avenue near the bazaar. A café near the disco. We had a picnic at the park over on Salazar.”

“You met with him three times?” he asked incredulously. “Lily, what could you possibly have been thinking?”

“Something I should have been thinking about all along.”

“Yeah? What’s that? Suicide?”

“I’m going to expose DeBruzkya to the world for what he is.”

Robert glared at her. “Oh, so you’re going to take him down single-handedly, huh?”

“If I have to.”

“Why don’t you leave that to the trained agents and the freedom fighters? Lily, damn it, this isn’t your war.”

“I’m in the perfect position to do this.”

“Why?”

She changed tactics. “Because DeBruzkya is committing terrible human rights abuses. I’ve seen it, Robert. The mal-nourished children. Entire villages wiped out. Men and women and children.” She thought of the little girl she’d met at one of the orphanages, and to her horror, her voice broke with the last word. “I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he growled. “You’re still as hardheaded as ever.”

“I may be hardheaded, but I know when I’m in a position to make a difference.”

“So Lillian Scott can bring down the infamous Bruno DeBruzkya when the people of Rebelia and the American CIA can’t. That’s rich as hell!”

“I know his weak spot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Smiling unpleasantly, he leaned forward and challenged her with a killing look. “So what is it? You got some kind of secret weapon stashed in your kitchen? Military resources we haven’t yet discussed? Soldiers training in the backyard? A knife in your sock? What? What’s your secret weapon, Lily?”

She met his gaze in kind. “Me.”

The single word echoed like a clap of thunder. Robert squashed down temper and tried not to think about how little of this was under his control. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

Pulling her legs beneath her in a protective gesture, Lily met his gaze. “General DeBruzkya is…intrigued by the idea of my writing his autobiography.”

“So, he’s an egomaniac.”

“Among other things.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” But Robert had read the general’s profile; Hatch had included it in the file, and it read like a horror novel. The anger burning inside him shifted and tangled with a thin thread of fear and ran straight to his gut. “Jesus, Lily. Don’t tell me you’ve—” Robert struggled for the right words “—let him believe there’s something between you.”

“Not exactly.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

She blew out a breath. “Ever since I interviewed him months ago, he’s been asking people about me, trying to find out where I live. He’s invited me to his palace for dinner several times, but I’ve always found an excuse not to go. He’s asked me several times about the autobiography. He’s obsessed with the idea. He wants to go down in history as being one of the greatest leaders of all time.”

“Lily, for God’s sake…”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“What if he connects you to the Rebellion?”

“I anticipated that, and there’s no way he can connect me to the newspaper.”

“DeBruzkya isn’t stupid. He’s cunning and smart and connected.”

“So am I.”

“Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t underestimate me, either.”

Frustration snarled through him that she was being so hardheaded about this. Once upon a time her courage and determination had drawn him, and he’d loved her for it. Now, he figured he’d be lucky if those two things didn’t get her killed.

“I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself into such a dangerous, impossible situation.” Cursing, he rose and paced to the fireplace to stare into the flames. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lily.”

“I’m in a position to make a difference.”

“You’re in a position to get yourself killed!”

“I can handle the general.”

Robert knew she was cool under fire. He’d been in some intense situations with her; she didn’t lose her head easily. Still, the fact that she thought fast on her feet didn’t make her a match for DeBruzkya’s brutality. Robert knew all too well what the general was capable of. His file on DeBruzkya contained not only a psychological profile of the general, but photographs of atrocities most people couldn’t fathom. DeBruzkya was a monster who’d fooled hundreds of thousands of people and brought an entire country to its knees. If he found out a woman he trusted—a woman he was interested in romantically—was putting out a black market newspaper there was no doubt he would react swiftly and violently.

Robert’s stomach roiled at the thought. He glanced at Lily and felt nauseous. He’d seen her die twenty-one months ago. Even though there was no longer anything between them save for a few memories and a truckload of bitterness, he didn’t want to see her hurt or killed. By God, not on his watch.

“What about Jack?” he asked, playing his ace. “What’s going to happen to him if you end up getting yourself shot?”

“I don’t plan on getting myself shot any time soon, so you can cut out the scare tactic crap.”

She stuck out her chin, but not before he saw the minute ripple that went through her when he’d mentioned Jack. And Robert knew he’d struck the nerve he’d been aiming for. He hadn’t enjoyed seeing her go pale. But he damn sure wasn’t sorry for making her think twice about what she was doing. And he’d be damned if he was going to keep his mouth shut and play nice while she walked into the sunset with a madman.

“You may be a good journalist, but you don’t have the training for something like this, Lily.”

He saw the walls go up in her eyes. He’d seen that look a hundred times in the months he’d known her, and he knew she was shutting him out. Damn her for being so stubborn.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.

“I’m not going to condone a suicide mission.”

The low rumble of thunder punctuated the words with an ominous finality that raised gooseflesh on his arms.

Shaking her head in impatience, she rose. “It’s late. I need to get some sleep.”

Robert knew it wasn’t a good idea to touch her. Not when he was angry and frustrated and still reeling from the shock of seeing her alive. But he crossed the short distance between them anyway. Her eyes widened when he stepped into her personal space, but her surprise wasn’t enough to stop him. “We’re not finished talking about this,” he said.

“You know I won’t change my mind.”

“And you know I won’t give up.”

“Touché.”

“We’re going to talk about the other thing, too, Lily.”

She paled a little, then stepped back as if suddenly realizing she needed to put space between herself and something dangerous. “I can’t talk about that,” she said.

“I can’t ignore it.”

“You don’t know everything, Robert. Don’t push.”

He tried to bank the swift rise of anger, but it was much too powerful and slammed into him like a rogue wave. He glared at her, feeling more than he wanted, remembering more than he should, wanting something he knew he could never have. “You’re brave enough to face off with DeBruzkya, but when it comes to us you turn tail and run.”