Название: The Reunion Mission
Автор: Beth Cornelison
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
isbn: 9781408972564
isbn:
Turning, Cajun Man crouched in front of her and squeezed her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
She nodded, unable to find the breath to speak.
“And the kid?” He jerked his head toward Tia.
“Scared,” Nicole panted. “But … all right.”
The night vision goggles helped her make out general forms in an unnatural green glow, but the details of Cajun’s and his partner’s appearances were still a mystery. She shoved aside her frustration with not knowing what her rescuers looked like. What did it matter as long as they got her and Tia out of that jungle alive? It didn’t. Yet she couldn’t quash the eerie prickle of familiarity his voice evoked.
He handed her a flask from his pack. “Drink.”
She waved his offering away. “I’m okay.”
“Drink,” he repeated more forcefully, shoving the canteen into her hand. “I can’t have you passing out on me later when I need you to run.”
Capitulating, she uncapped the flask and tipped it up to her lips. She almost groaned in pleasure as a sweet fruity drink bathed her tongue. An energy drink. How long had it been since she’d had anything but foul water to drink?
Brushing Tia’s hair back from her eyes, Nicole gave the canteen to the girl and helped her take a sip. When the little girl tasted the sweet drink, she clutched the canteen tighter and tipped it higher for a bigger gulp.
“Hey!” Cajun snatched the container back. “That’s gotta last until we’re outta here. Those of us who are hoofing it get priority.”
Tia shrank away from him, huddling closer to Nicole with a whimper.
Nicole bit back a retort. She had to remember that this man had risked his life to save her and had brought Tia along against his better judgment and despite the limited provisions he’d made. She raised her chin and worked at keeping her voice nonconfrontational. “Could you please try not to scare her? She’s just a kid, and she’s already been through a nightmare.”
He paused in the act of stashing the canteen in his pack, cast a side-glance to Nicole and heaved an impatient sigh as he shoved to his feet. “Enough rest. Let’s move.” He faced his partner and gave a nod. “Alec?”
His partner stowed his own canteen and stepped forward to help Nicole to her feet. Cajun Man lifted Tia into his arms and led the way with Nicole following and his partner—Alec, he’d called him—bringing up the rear. Though they were no longer running, they moved at a fast clip, and Nicole had trouble keeping up. The distance between the Cajun and Nicole widened by the minute, until, maybe an hour later, Alec finally cupped his hands around his mouth and made a shrill noise, something between a bird call and monkey. Cajun Man stopped, setting Tia on the ground, and Alec grabbed Nicole’s arm to hustle her forward.
“This is taking too long,” Cajun Man said as they approached, clearly agitated. “You go on,” he said to Alec. “Take the girl and tell Jake to get the chopper ready. I’ll stay with her, and we’ll be there … whenever.” His tone was full of frustration.
“Roger that.” Without further discussion, Alec lifted Tia into his arms and disappeared into the jungle foliage. A ripple of apprehension shimmied through Nicole. Not that she didn’t trust the Cajun, but having her rescue team halved felt like a dangerous move.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She pressed a hand to the stitch in her side.
“Normally, no.” He paused, the silence taut with recriminations. “But under the circumstances—”
She grunted defensively. “I’m sorry I’m slowing you down. But all those months in a cage without exercise have left me out of shape.”
He faced her and cocked his head as he studied her. The jungle shadows and his night vision goggles made him look like a strange insect from a sci-fi flick. “I know that.”
His tone was softer now, almost apologetic, and she slumped at the base of a tree. Yanking off the cumbersome goggles, she rubbed her aching temples with the heels of her hands. His mercurial moods baffled her, set her on edge. “Look, I appreciate the risks you’ve taken to get me out of that stink hole. I’m doing everything I can to cooperate. But sometimes it seems like you’re …” She waved a hand, searching for the right word, then dropped it limply to her lap again. “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.”
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