Surrender In Silk. Susan Mallery
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Dehydration, infection, possible broken bones. All she had to do was get him back to the plane. The team would take care of the rest.
There was a slight bump, then the engines jerked into reverse as the plane taxied to a stop. Jamie and Rick were already up and moving. By the time the plane came to a stop, they were in the jeep, prepared to back out into the desolate countryside.
Jamie wasn’t sure how they’d gotten permission to use this private airstrip and she wasn’t about to ask. Winston knew people everywhere. He pulled strings, called in favors, paid whatever sum was necessary and everyone looked the other way. As long as the job got done, the director was happy.
“Ready?” Rick asked.
When she nodded, he started the engine. The rear of the plane opened slowly; the floor behind them lowered into a steep ramp. With a salute to the medical team, Rick put the vehicle in reverse, then backed onto the tarmac.
Brilliant sunshine blinded her momentarily. Jamie grabbed her sunglasses and put them on. It was late March, and the Middle Eastern desert temperature was pleasant. At least Zach hadn’t had to suffer through the summer heat.
Rick checked his compass, then hit the gas. Within five minutes, they were driving due north and the plane was out of sight.
“Once we leave the jeep, I’m going to need an hour and fifteen minutes,” Rick said, going over what they’d planned.
“I brought a book to help pass the time.”
He glanced at her and grinned. “Loosen up, Sanders. It’ll take a lot more than these guys to kill Zach. You know that. They don’t come any tougher than him.”
“I know.”
She tugged her cap lower over her forehead. If their luck was good, no one would see the jeep speeding along the dirt-and-sand-coated paved road. They would get to the compound, blow up the depot, get Zach and be gone. If their luck was bad—
Jamie refused to think about that. She’d known the risks involved when she’d stormed into Winston’s office. Being obliterated by the depot explosion was the least of her concerns.
She shifted on her seat, then reached over her shoulder to pull her long braid out of the way. As she fingered the end, she remembered the first time Zach had told her she had to cut her hair before she returned to class the next day. She’d spent the night studying regulations and had reported back that short hair wasn’t one of the rules. They weren’t in the military, after all. The agency’s purpose was to quickly protect U.S. interests abroad—by whatever means necessary.
She felt her lips curve into a smile. Zach had been mad enough to spit nails. For a second, something had flickered in his gaze. She’d wanted to believe it was respect. He’d leaned so close, she’d felt his breath on her face.
“Your damn hair is going to get you killed, Sanders,” he’d roared, still inches from her.
Although she’d been shaking so hard she’d barely been able to stand, she hadn’t backed down.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take, sir.”
He’d grabbed her braid and pulled it around her neck. Hard. “What about the risk to the team?”
She hadn’t had an answer for that question. She couldn’t risk the others because of her pride.
He’d given her a cruel, mocking smile and walked away. So much for respect. That night she’d cut her hair. In the past few years, she’d let it grow back.
Zach. It was always about him.
Rick slowed down. Up ahead was an outcropping of rocks.
He parked in their shadow and climbed out. Jamie followed. She checked the sun, her watch, then pulled out her compass.
“Two miles that way,” she said, pointing northeast. “Try not to get lost this time.”
Rick grinned. “Are you ever going to let me forget that one?”
“Never.”
They walked together in silence. Thirty minutes later, they parted company. Jamie could see the compound in the distance. High fences should have shielded the inside from curious eyes, but most of them had recently been blown away. There were several buildings, trucks and dozens of armed men. Her heart started pounding in her chest. Dammit, they didn’t have a prayer of making this work.
Then she forced herself to slow her breathing. Gradually her muscles relaxed.
The terrorists had chosen this spot specifically. There weren’t a lot of trees or plants, so it was difficult to approach the compound without being seen. She found a shallow depression in the warm earth and again breathed a prayer of thanks that it wasn’t summer.
Her camouflage uniform was the color of sand and dirt. With her cap and smudged face, she would be difficult to spot unless she did something stupid. She slid off her backpack, then reached for a bottle of water. After taking a sip, she settled down to wait. An hour and fifteen minutes until Rick blew the depot. If he blew it.
“Don’t think like that,” she told herself. “Everything is going to be fine.”
She grabbed her binoculars and rolled onto her belly. She could just make out the details of the buildings. She focused on the section to the left. A low, one-story structure with small windows. According to their intelligence information, Zach was in there. Possibly chained. She had small but strong cutters in her backpack. If he was there, she was going to get him out.
“Just an hour and twelve minutes now, Zach,” she said softly, scanning the area around her. No one had seen them arrive. All they needed was a little luck. “Hang on. Just hang on.”
She lowered the binoculars and took another sip of water. Her shoulder began to ache. She shifted, remembering the first time she’d lain flat on her belly to scan the enemy’s position. It hadn’t been the desert then. Seven years ago, she’d gone to the Central American jungle. She’d been as green and soft as a ripe avocado, and just as effective. She would have died in that jungle if it hadn’t been for Zach Jones.
That’s why she was here today. To pay that debt. And maybe, just maybe, to get a few questions answered.
Chapter 2
Seven years ago
Jamie sucked in a breath. She could feel the snake crawling over the backs of her thighs. Zach had already glanced at it and dismissed it as harmless. Her entire life experience with crawly things had been seeing one dead rattler at the end of the block the summer she’d been ten. Even then, the sight of the squashed, dead reptile had been enough to make her shudder. Being this close to a live snake made her stomach churn.
I’m not going to throw up, she told herself firmly, ignoring the clamminess of her skin. The prickly feeling of heat and dampness had nothing to do with her nerves and everything to do with the temperature and humidity of the jungle. She’d spent the first twenty-one years of her life in Arizona. This was like visiting another planet.
Slowly, trying to move without making a sound, she raised the binoculars to her eyes and peered into the darkness. It wasn’t night, but the thick, lush foliage and tall trees didn’t let in a lot of sunlight. She studied the path twenty feet in front of them, and the clumps of greenery. She lowered the binoculars and shook her head.
Zach stared at her. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, until she felt as if he were digging down to her soul. A muscle in his cheek twitched.
Look again, idiot.
He didn’t say the words. He didn’t have to. She could clearly read his irritation.
Once again she raised the binoculars and stared at the trees, then the plants, then the path. There wasn’t anyone there.
She wanted to elbow Zach Jones right below his rib cage. She knew where and how to do it, too. High and hard, so all of his air rushed out and his diaphragm