Читать книгу Lethal Deception - Lynette Eason - Страница 8

Gabe whipped up his weapon, caught a blur of movement through the trees and fired off a round. The scream of pain told him he’d found his target. He turned back to Cassidy. “Run,” he ordered through clenched teeth.

She ran. Another bullet pierced the tree beside him and Gabe swerved and shot back. Finally, they made their way through the undergrowth to a group of trees that offered some shelter. He stopped, listened.

Nothing. Yet. Hopefully, the kidnappers had stopped to help the wounded man. Gabe decided they’d lost them for the moment; however, he didn’t count on that to last long. He leaned against one of the trees and checked his gun. Cassidy sank to the ground.

“Your what?” He picked up where they’d left off. Please, anything, but a child. Not a child. The ambassador knew. Gabe had had a feeling he’d been hiding something.

Gabe steamed as frustration boiled through him. This was not in the game plan. Get in, get the girl, get out. That was the plan. Nothing about a child. Especially her child. The twinge of jealousy took him by surprise, but he quickly forgot about it as he watched her disappear through the mess of twisting vines and leaves.

He quickly caught up and caught her arm. “Slow down,” he hissed. Then he focused on the fact that his fingers wrapped around her upper arm almost effortlessly. Gabe frowned, appalled at her fragile state. Once the adrenaline wore off, she wouldn’t last long without some rest and nutrition.

She yanked away from him; blinked back tears. “You don’t understand. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. I have to.” Desperation flashed.

Gabe groaned, “Cassidy, those men aren’t going to give up. They’re closing in on us even as we stand here arguing.”

“Then I suggest we argue while we move. And if you’re supposed to keep me alive, could you do a better job of it with me than you did with Micah?” With that flat question, she headed north when Gabe desperately wanted to head west. These last few days had been his nightmare come true. And it wasn’t over yet.

And Cassidy scored a bull’s-eye every time she opened her mouth.

He squeezed his eyes tight to tamp down the memories of the explosion, the gun in his ear. The click. He swallowed hard, blew out a frustrated sigh and stomped after her, catching up quickly. Just in time to reach out and pull her weaving, swaying form into his arms.

“Gabe? I don’t feel so good.” She slurred her words and moaned. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out.

“Sit down for a minute.” Holding her close scrambled his thought processes, but somehow he managed to ease her onto the jungle floor. She rested against a fallen log, leaned her head back and shut her eyes.

Gabe asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

Her brow crinkled as she thought. “Um…I’m not sure. Yesterday, lunch, I think.”

Gabe growled, “Not smart. Here. Your blood sugar’s probably getting ready to bottom out.” He swung the backpack down beside her and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. “It’s not exactly the seven-course meal that you’re used to, but it’s all I’ve got and it’ll get some nourishment in you.”

With what little strength she had, she yanked the jerky out of his hand and muttered, “You have absolutely no idea what I’m used to.”

After two pieces of jerky and half a canteen of water, Cassidy looked slightly better. Gabe pulled a cell phone out of the backpack and turned it on. The battery was good, but no signal. He dropped it back in his pocket. His satellite phone had disappeared within an hour after his arrival in the camp.

“What daughter?” he probed.

Cassidy stared at him for a moment then sighed. Her eyes misted, closed again, but she spoke. “Her name’s Alexis.”

Gabe thought about all the pictures of Cassidy he used to see in the society pages of the newspaper. She was with a different man every week. “So who’s her father?”

“Jacob Foster.” Her eyes shot open and he found himself ensnared in her wild green gaze. Tears slid a silent pattern down cheeks flushed from the run. “He loved God with a passion I envied, he was one of the most wonderful men I’ve ever known.”

Jealousy snagged him again. “Was?” He didn’t want to know, but had to.

She nodded. “He was killed almost two months ago in a raid on his village. He was a missionary.”

Gabe flinched. “Ah, Cass, I’m sorry.”

She shuddered. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hateful. I’m still working on the forgiveness issue when it comes to you and your silence about what happened to Micah.”

A twig snapped.

Gabe bolted. He grabbed his machete and cut a shallow path through the dense underbrush, pulling Cassidy behind him. Sweat beaded and slipped down his face. There was no time to try to cover the path completely.

Hide us, Lord. The prayer slipped through his mind unintentionally. He reminded himself he wasn’t speaking to God because God didn’t listen. Why talk to someone who didn’t care about listening to you? Gabe was working this mission alone. He trusted and depended on no one but himself. Somehow that thought didn’t offer the comfort he’d hoped it would.

A hollow tree trunk lay horizontal just off the path. About six feet in diameter and rotted on the inside, Gabe was willing to bet all kinds of creatures probably called it home. Right now, he would call it an answer to his prayer—if he thought God heard his prayers anymore.

He ignored the smell of must and decay and pulled Cassidy into the trunk, her small hand clutched in his. As he made his way in, he moved aside debris, hoping he didn’t dislodge anything poisonous. Scorpions, spiders and various other insects scuttled from under the rotted bark, but when nothing jumped out at him, he leaned against the tree-trunk wall and drew Cassidy in behind him.

A shaft of light through a small crack in the top subtly illuminated the inside. A finger to his lips communicated the need for silence and her nod let him know she understood.

They were going to have to stay hidden and hope the men weren’t looking very carefully, because if they were, their snug little hiding place would most likely become their grave.

Cassidy shivered and moved deeper into the trunk. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to control her panicked breathing. Thank You, God, for sending Gabe—I’m grateful for his help even if he won’t tell me how Micah died. Her brother had been reported dead on a secret mission that Gabe led. His body was never recovered. Cassidy had written Gabe begging him to tell her what happened so that she could have closure, but he’d refused. She was grateful for his help, but she still resented his silence.

He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a slight squeeze before moving toward the opening to keep watch. Her heart still raced from their dash through the jungle and she shifted, trying to put a little more distance between them.

“Be still,” Gabe turned his head and whispered into her ear.

She froze. He still had that effect on her stomach. She’d worked hard to get over her teenage crush on him, but apparently she hadn’t worked hard enough.

“Don’t even breathe,” he whispered.

Prayers trembled silently on her lips. Footsteps crunched closer. She bit her lip and his right hand brought up the gun to point it toward the sound.

Someone grunted a question in Portuguese, but Cassidy, who spoke the language fluently, couldn’t quite make out the words. However, the answer left her shaking even harder than before. “Kill them immediately. The ransom is not important. I do not want to have to report this failure.”

The footsteps faded. They hadn’t noticed the trampled underbrush and the cut vines. Yet.

Oh, thank You, Lord. Thank You for the protection. Sweet relief flowed through her, leaving her feeling weak and a little nauseated. When I am afraid, I will trust in You.

Gabe’s arms slowly relaxed; the rest of his body soon followed. He stuck the gun into the back of his jeans and leaned his head against the wooden trunk.

Cassidy didn’t bother to move. “Are they gone?” She whispered the words as quietly as possible.

He whispered back, “I think so. Hopefully they’re closing their circle. But soon they’ll realize we managed to slip through and will start looking outside that circle. We have to be gone and on a plane by the time they widen their search.”

“Gabe, I’ve already told you I’m not leaving without Alexis.” Cassidy stared into his flashing dark eyes and whispered, “I made a promise, and I’m going to keep it. God’s brought me this far, He’s not about to desert me now.”

“Whatever. Right now, we’re going to sit tight. Now, be quiet so I can listen.”

Cassidy rolled her eyes and started praying again.

A slight snore brought Gabe’s gaze down. Cassidy had moved in and rested her head against his arm and fallen asleep. Standing up. It finally registered how absolutely exhausted she must be. Lack of sleep and terror had all taken its toll.

He knew they needed to move on, but she had to rest before she went unconscious and he had to carry her out. Holding her steady, he slid down the wall to sit in the mildew-infested debris that littered the base of their hideaway.

Cassidy never stirred, her form remaining limp in his arms while her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She must have finally felt safe enough to relax—or maybe she’d simply just passed out.

He needed to rest, himself. Feeling as if he’d been back in the midst of fighting for much longer than a week and a half, Gabe decided to stay put for the moment. He dug through his pack and pulled out a dirty T-shirt. It would have to do. Wadding it up, he placed it behind her neck to give her some support. The now sweaty and dusty riot of curls she’d never been able to tame spread over the T-shirt and across his hands. Gabe pulled away, fighting the memories even as they surged through his mind.

In his third year of medical school, compliments of Uncle Sam, Gabe had been a very self-confident twenty-four-year-old. He’d stopped by the McKnight house to talk to Micah about something. And then she’d appeared at the top of the stairs; a vision of loveliness in a gown of white. Green eyes drew him; her smile tangled his thoughts. This girl he’d always considered a bratty little sister. But this night…

She floated down the staircase to stand next to her date, the top of her head barely reaching the middle of his chest. When she’d said goodbye to her adoring onlookers, she’d laughed and flung that riotous cascade of flaming curls. They’d brushed his nose and mouth—and singed his heart. Micah had noticed—and stared daggers through Gabe.

Micah. Just the thought of that name was enough to bring Gabe back to reality. Cassidy’s brother. Dead. Because Gabe had failed him. Had requested—no, ordered—him for the mission then allowed him to die. Cassidy was mad at him for not talking about that day, but if she knew the whole truth, she’d hate him forever. He put the mental brakes on the memories, refusing to go there now. Cassidy stirred and frowned; whimpered, in her sleep. Gabe wanted fiercely to wipe the bad memories away and replace them with good. But that wasn’t his right.

That had been someone else’s privilege.

She’d been in love with another man. Had his baby.

Why hadn’t Cassidy’s father mentioned a child? Hadn’t he known? Gabe laughed sardonically at his mental question and answered it. Oh, yeah, the man had known. And he’d not mentioned it because he’d known Gabe would flat out refuse to take the mission.

He let his eyes drift shut, but made sure the gun was tucked close and his ears were tuned to the jungle noises. He wasn’t afraid he’d fall asleep only to wake up dead. Too many years of training, too much intensive conditioning—too many nightmares to keep at bay—would keep that from happening.

“Cassidy.” She ignored the faraway voice. The sleep her body had craved for so long had her in its grip and wasn’t about to let her shake it. “Cassidy.” This time a rough shake accompanied her whispered name. Sleep disappeared fast.

“Gabe?” She blinked to bring his face into focus. Brown-black eyes bored into hers. “What? What is it?”

He brushed the hair out of her eyes for her, his fingertips gentle, lingering. “We need to get going. Since you’re bound and determined to head to the orphanage, we’ve got to beat these guys at their own game.”

Cassidy moved and couldn’t stop the groan that slipped out.

“Sore?”

“To say the least. I thought I was in shape up until a few weeks ago.”

His short bark of soft laughter made her jump. She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me. There’s not a thing wrong with your shape.”

Cassidy flushed. She gave him a punch in the gut that made him grunt. “That’s not what I meant and you know it, Rambo.”

“I know, Cassidy. I know.” Cassidy could have sworn his expression went tender for a brief moment before returning to its usual unreadable gaze. He turned and edged cautiously toward the end of the trunk and Cassidy followed him. She cleared her throat and asked quietly, “So, you’re going to help me?”

Gabe cut his eyes to her. “What do you think?”

She allowed a small smile to cross her lips. “I think you hate it when I get my way.”

Gabe’s lips curved into a rueful smile, but he didn’t respond. Cassidy brushed leaves and debris from the seat of her pants then pulled her hair up into a ponytail with the rubber band she’d had in her pocket since opening the papers about Alexis.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“You think it’s safe?”

“You mean, you care what I think?” he taunted.

Now, that hurt, but she covered it with, “Of course I care. I’ve always cared about you, Gabriel. In spite of whatever happened with Micah and my anger at your silence, you were my brother’s best friend. Now, can we get going before those creeps come back?”

When she looked up, surprise at her confession was reflected on his face. He opened his mouth to confront her and when he did, Cassidy pretended not to see it. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss matters of the heart—her heart—when she was finally doing something totally unselfish for someone else. Something that not even Gabriel Sinclair and his stubborn personality would be able to deter her from.