The Reunion Mission. Beth Cornelison
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“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