Hit Hard. Amy J. Fetzer
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odd look flashed over her features, then turned to a smile. “No, he spoiled me. Which is probably why I’m here and not married with children in the States.”
“And why aren’t you?”
“I suffer from eternal boredom. Except today, of course.”
“You could have been killed.”
“You too.” She leaned out to look pointedly at Max. “My backup was better than yours.”
“Go ahead, gloat.” Max edged closer, inclined his head to Sam. “He’s too stubborn to admit it, but you saved our collective asses back there.” Max moved on ahead.
Viva stole a look at Sam. He was just staring and the look had power, moving over her and almost stripping her bare. She was right before. The man was intense.
They broke eye contact when the tribe leader made a noise, gestured.
Viva smiled. “I think we’re invited to dinner.”
“Good, I could use a beer,” he said.
The land cleared, and they stepped into the small village. Surrounding an old community well were large huts without doors, the roofs thatched with palms. People came out slowly, smiling and greeting the men. A few dropped dead monkeys into a pile. Women came to her, touching her hair, her clothes. Viva chatted, took the offer of water, and glanced back at Sam. Through binoculars, he sighted the way they’d come.
“Does he ever give an inch?”
Squatting, Max shook his head, removing his pack.
Sam lowered the glasses, glanced, and couldn’t help his smile. Though the women pulled her toward a thatched house, her gaze was on him.
“We’re going to have a girl chat, you know, makeup, hairstyles. Exchange a few recipes.” The women chatted incessantly, tugging her along. “Don’t leave without me, Sam.”
Her plea was laced with a little fear. No, he wouldn’t leave her till he could get her to Bangkok to deliver the bracelet. After that, it was just too dangerous for her to be near him. Today had proven it.
Sam pulled off his hat, swiped the back of his wrist across his forehead. “Phan’s death, it was almost ritual. They didn’t kill, just cut him up to bleed to death.”
Max pulled smashed bananas from his pack and tossed them aside. “And whoever shot that dart was protecting whatever information Half Ear was going to offer up. Or Rohki.”
Sam agreed. “Just before Half Ear died, he said, it will cost you more than…” Sam shrugged, trying to fill in the blanks.
“…more than diamonds,” Max said. “More to find Rohki, to get information? It could be anything.”
“I’m thinking more than that to get into this weapons deal.”
Max’s head came up. “Possible. It’s just rumor.”
“Hear a rumor often enough and there has to be some truth to it. I say we back up and regroup, start with the jet. It was high-priced transport. I’m betting they’re transporting a lot of shit under the wire.” Sam slid off his Camelbak and tipped the clear pipe into his mouth, squeezing the pack. The water was hot, but wet. He handed it to Max, then patted himself down for extra bullets, coming up empty.
He straightened away from the tree, his gaze on the sky. “Great, they have air support.” A chopper.
The pair dropped to the ground, taking cover, and Sam aimed his pistol. Villagers looked to the sky and scattered, grabbing children and melting into the jungle.
Viva came out of the hut, running to Sam. “Oh, tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
“It is,” Sam said. The sound of blades beating the air sent an almost euphoric feeling through him, yet he wondered how he could get it to set down so they could overtake the craft. One bullet put that thought in the stupid-and-deadly pile. He readied to take out the gas tanks.
Viva was beside him under the trees. Behind them, the village was deserted. “Shouldn’t we be hiding? Running with them?”
“Too late, they’ll pick us off.”
“You have one bullet left! What do you think you can do?”
“Get ready for a big explosion.”
Viva felt that uncontrollable fear rise up again, tightening her skin, pushing her heartbeat up several notches. She was really tired of this shoot-run-shoot business.
Then the big, sleek black chopper came into view, low and slow over the area. It was armed with some dangerous-looking guns, aimed directly at them.
Five
“I can’t watch.” Yet Viva peeled one eye open.
“Just what I wished for,” Max said, then winked at her. “The cavalry.”
Sam instantly recognized the helicopter. It was his.
Landing gear unfolded as the black chopper lowered to the ground, a longhaired man standing in the doorway, armed and ready to fire. Sam scowled. Who was this guy?
“You Wyatt?” the man shouted.
“Hell, yeah.” Sam pushed Viva ahead of him to the side of the chopper, helping her in before Max threw himself onto the deck. The chopper lifted off and Sam sagged against the jump seat. Before Sam could ask what he was doing here, the longhaired man handed them headsets, then pointed to the pilot.
Sebastian twisted long enough to flash a smile. “Thought you could use a ride out of the hot zone.”
“You’re a sight, Coonass, thanks. How’d you find us?”
“GPS marker, made it myself,” Max said, tapping his belt buckle. Sam examined his buckle, then eyed Max. “You didn’t think we’d let you go all commando without something, did you?”
“You two are damn lucky. You know what it took to get this chopper in the air over Thai air space?”
Sam looked up at the other man. “Lying through your teeth?”
“Shit-can it, Beech, you love breaking the rules,” Sebastian said.
“Nigel Beecham, British intelligence,” he introduced, and no one noticed Viva looking between the men, completely confused.
MI6, Sam thought, shaking his hand. Beecham had a crushing grip to go with his big shoulders in the flowered shirt. In shorts and sandals, he looked right at home, tanned enough to say he’d been here a while. Sam didn’t want to know what he did for MI6. The British counterpart to the CIA were a deadly bunch, just like their own. And Sam didn’t trust any of them, ground support or not.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Viva demanded.
“When you Yanks shag the wrong people,” Nigel said right over her words, “you don’t even stop for a smoke, do you?” Nigel stood inside the chopper, his hands gripping the straps lacing the ceiling. The headset pushed on his face, making him look chubby.
“Not unless it’s a Cuban cigar.” Sam opened an ammo can and loaded his pistol. The rifle took custom-made shots. “Riley?” Sam said into the mike.
“Alive. And still in Never Never Land. Logan’s on his way here and Killian and Alexa should be in Sri Lanka in a few days. But there’s a hot-looking nurse who’s sitting vigil over him. Too bad he doesn’t know it.”
Sam shook his head. Even in a coma Riley’s Irish charm worked on the women, he thought, hunting through gear for a rag.
Viva grabbed his forearm. “Hello? Remember me? Clueless.” She gestured to the men around her.
He looked at her as if just realizing she was there, then grasped that she’d heard too much.