WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) (21 page)

BOOK: WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3)
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They all appeared to contain workers leaving for the day.

Wait. Motion at the left corner of the main building caught her attention. She swung the binoculars over in time to see a black four-by-four stop in front of the main door. The same four guards as before walked out. Kirra’s breath caught. Seth walked in the middle of them. Her fingers trembled on the binoculars as she studied him. He no longer wore handcuffs. His face showed no sign of a beating. She didn’t see any weapons poking into his sides or back.

What the heck?

The man on his right said something to Seth. Seth grinned and shrugged modestly.

Kirra’s stomach dropped. Had she been wrong about him? Had she been naïve to ignore his protestations that he wasn’t a good man? That she couldn’t rely on him?

Had the story about not knowing his team had killed innocents been a lie?

Bitterness drew the edges of her mouth down as she watched Seth climb into the passenger seat of the four-by-four of his own volition.

She held her breath as the vehicle headed toward the main gate.
Please don’t let Seth have betrayed me. Please don’t let him lead them to me.

The four-by-four turned away from the bridge and followed the rest of the vehicles down the road.

She let out her breath in a long sigh.

Then the impact of what she’d seen hit her. Regardless of whether Seth was working with these men or not, she was now completely on her own.

“Kirra’s too flighty to be left on her own!” Dev shouted at their parents. “Why didn’t you watch over her?”

The weight of everything she needed to do to find her way safely out of here suddenly seemed too much. She desperately wished Dev were here, even if it meant that he’d lecture her about thinking before she acted.

Stop that
. No matter what Dev thought, she was smart and resourceful. She
could
do this on her own. She
would
find her way up to the concert and warn them about the additional threat from the rebels.

Then Dev would finally be forced to admit that she was a responsible, mature adult.

She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and watched the car park empty of vehicles. The exodus of employees meant fewer people to spot her, but she hoped at least a few vehicles remained, because she needed transportation. Once she’d stolen a car, she’d head in the opposite direction from the way the men took Seth. Wherever he’d ended up, Seth was tough. If he was a prisoner, she had to trust that he could get himself free.

And if he wasn’t a prisoner…

Chapter Nineteen

S
eth sat wedged
between two of Sankoh’s guards, gritting his teeth against the pain in his head and from his bruised ribs every time the SUV hit a bump. The fact that the guards refused to shut up didn’t help his mood.

“Man, I still cannot believe that you are the same pilot who managed that escape from the New Malian Air Force.” The guard to his right had a serious case of hero worship which Seth would have gladly exploited if not for the three other guards, who seemed far less impressed with Seth’s exploits. The one to his left shifted, pressing his pistol tighter against Seth’s side.

Yeah, there’d be no easy escape for him.

So he just grunted acknowledgment of the man’s comment. What else could he say? Back at the compound, the guards had dumped Seth in the director’s office. Once the man spotted the name Michael Hughes on his ID, he’d ordered his men to release Seth. Then it had been one question after another.

If he’d known that his stunt all those months ago would be caught on video and broadcast across the region, he wouldn’t have done it. But at the time he’d been carrying a cargo valued at over a million dollars and a passenger who’d been wanted by the New Malian government. Seth had needed to collect his fifty-thousand dollar fee in order to pay for long-overdue upgrades to his plane, so he’d tried a risky maneuver and it had worked. Barely. He’d scraped the paint off his port side wing and nearly had his eardrum shattered by the screams of his passenger, but he’d evaded the Malian fighter jets.

It was a maneuver he’d read about, but never actually tried before. He bit back a grin. Damn, but the rush had been amazing. Almost as good as some of the stunts he used to pull back in his Black Hawk days.

The thought of his beloved helicopters chased away his smile. God, he missed flying Black Hawks. With a helicopter, you knew you were flying by the grace of engineering and your own skill. Every bump and eddy in the air was yours to own or discard. No other aircraft, certainly not some damn fixed wing, matched the sheer violent power of holding the controls of a Black Hawk.

His super fan boy slapped Seth on the back. “I have watched that video more times than I can count. What you did was amazing. And those government jets. You made them look like fools.”

Seth forced a chuckle. “Yeah, I did.” It wouldn’t have been possible with American pilots, but the Malian government only had a couple of jets that rarely saw action. The pilots hadn’t been the skilled dog fighters that Seth had occasionally played chicken with when everyone got bored on base.

For a man in hiding, the video would have been a problem except for two things. Seth’s face was never seen, and none of the initial broadcasts had included his name.

Once Seth had safely delivered his passenger—receiving an extra ten grand as a reward for his extraordinary actions—the passenger, despite being warned not to, had told everyone how Michael Hughes had saved him. Thus permanently tying Seth’s alias to the episode.

But this was the first time he’d run into men who were so intimately familiar with the event.

The guard continued to pepper him with questions on the ride to wherever they were going. Seth ignored the urge to glance back down the road. He worried about Kirra. Would the guards at the compound conduct a thorough search and find her? If not, what would she do? What if she tried to cross the bridge, slipped, and fell into the river?

Worry sat like a cold stone in the pit of his stomach. Had she seen him get into this vehicle? Or did she think he was a prisoner?

Kirra was intelligent. She might not have jungle survival training, but he had to trust that she’d figure a way to get to the nearest town.

That didn’t ease his guilt any. If only he’d paid more attention to the ground underneath them, he wouldn’t have picked a weak spot and ended up in this predicament.

You needed to separate yourself from Kirra anyway. Maybe this is the time. You could trigger their anger so that they kill you.

No. Not until Kirra was safely out of Sankoh’s territory.

Shit. He should have told Kirra to call Dr. LaSalle if anything happened to him. Further proof he wasn’t on his game and needed someone else to step in and protect her.

The SUV pulled off the road and passed through a checkpoint before turning onto a smoothly paved drive that curved around to a sprawling adobe house. Strategically placed spotlights lit up both the house and the well-manicured lawn, leaving few shadows to hide in. Guards holding AK-47s patrolled the grounds.

Interesting that Sankoh protected his home better than his processing plant.

The driver continued to the back of the house and parked in an attached garage. Seth followed the guards into the house, down a series of corridors with dark beams crossing the ceiling and tribal masks lining the stuccoed walls. The red tile underfoot would have been at home in a Mexican villa.

After a number of twists and turns, they ended up in front of a heavy wooden door studded with brass. Seth barely refrained from rolling his eyes. The door opened on silent hinges and the guards nudged Seth inside.

This room reflected the same Mexican-inspired design as the rest of the house, with a few African accents. Mud cloth in the traditional black, white, and brown hung on one wall. Matching throw rugs covered the tiled floor. The bookcases, credenza, and desk were mahogany, only slightly lighter in color than the skin of the man behind the desk.

On the wall to Seth’s right hung posters of Elvis, Gene Autry, and Willie Nelson. Racks beneath the posters displayed a variety of guitars. Glass cases enclosed other musical instruments.

“Ah, Mr. Hughes, welcome.” Sankoh motioned for Seth to take one of the two seats in front of him.

Seth complied, and the guards took up positions behind his chair.

Sankoh tilted his head to one side, studying Seth for a long moment. “So,” he said, returning his head to the vertical. “My men tell me they found you near one of my businesses. That you quite literally fell out of the sky.” His eyebrows rose. “Did you fall out of a plane, Mr. Hughes? I thought you were a better pilot than that.”

“No. I fell from the top of the embankment.” He shrugged, though it hurt his ribs. “The ground gave out beneath me.”

“And what were you doing spying on my facility, Mr. Hughes? Did you turn down my job offer only to take employment with one of my competitors?”

“No. I continue to be an independent contractor.” The words tasted bitter in Seth’s mouth. He hadn’t been truly independent since the day his blackmailer contacted him. “I wasn’t spying on your facility. I was lost. I saw a bridge with guards and decided that it was better to hide and watch until I could figure out my next steps.”

“Hmm…You are certain you were not sent here by Morenga or one of my other competitors?”

“No, sir. I’m a pilot, not a spy.”

“Did you find a camera or binoculars on this man?” Sankoh demanded of the guard on Seth’s left, who was the leader.

“No, sir. Not even a phone. Just him.”

“Interesting.” He studied Seth again. “You truly think I am stupid enough to believe that you just happened to be walking near my facility, without any equipment, when there are no roads for miles except the ones I control?”

Seth kept his expression bored. “Think what you like. I’m telling the truth.”

“No, I do not believe that you are.” Sankoh leaned forward. “Shall we cut to the chase? Where is the white woman, Mr. Hughes? You have led Bureh’s rebels on a merry chase, but now it is time to pay the piper. Tell us where the woman is and you will walk out of here unharmed.”

“You want to know where the white bitch is?” Seth turned slightly and pointed to the bump on his head. “She knocked me out, stole my things, and took off. I don’t know where the hell she is.” He faced forward again. “That’s why I was walking through the jungle. Because when I woke up I could barely see straight. Once I could bear to stand up, I checked the position of the sun and headed east because I know there’s a secondary north-south road in this direction. I thought I could find someone to help me.”

“And yet you didn’t flag down my men.”

Careful. Careful.
“With all due respect, sir, I saw your insignia on the uniforms of the guards at the bridge. Since you and I did not part on the best of terms, I decided not to ask for help.”

“That is unfortunate. You see, you are of no use to me without the woman.” He motioned to the guards, who hauled Seth up by his arms. “Take him away.”

Seth let the men carry him into the hallway, then he struggled to break free. But the leader hit the lump at the back of Seth’s head, and he lost consciousness.

When he came to, he found himself chained to a wall in a dark, dank room. His head throbbed and pain radiated down his body. From the positioning of the new aches, he suspected that the guards had landed a few kicks and punches after he’d blacked out.

Cowards.

A sliver of light revealed the outline of a door. Seth yanked against the chains, but they didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Kirra, I’m sorry.

K
irra remained
in her hiding place as the sun set and the last of the workers drove away. Not long after, the next shift of guards arrived at the main gate. She watched the current guards gesture toward the bridge and the bluff several times as they briefed their replacements. Then the old guards walked into the compound. They returned a few minutes later driving a dirty white Toyota Land Cruiser.

The temperature dropped as darkness invaded the sky, turning the air temperature from sauna to comfortable. Good. She didn’t have much water left in her bottle and the cooler temp would mean less risk of becoming dehydrated.

One of the new guards emerged from the guard house carrying a torch. He walked to the bridge, carefully avoiding the objects placed by the previous guards. Kirra figured they were some sort of land mines. But the fact that he was able to walk safely along the dirt to the left of the road and make it onto the bridge showed Kirra where she would need to drive.

The guard crossed the bridge and poked around the base of the bluff for about ten minutes before returning to his post.

Once the two men settled into the guard house, Kirra snuck across the open space between the bushes she was hiding in and the narrow strip of trees along the fence. Staying within cover, she used the binoculars to study first the fence, then the buildings. She didn’t spot any insulators or extra wires on the fence, so she doubted it was electrified. And as far as she could tell from here, only the main building had security cameras.

Only one vehicle now remained in the car park. The guards’ black four-by-four sat not far from the main gate.

Behind the building, a corrugated metal roof protected several generators. A garage with two open bays held a dark green
bakkie
and a white four-by-four. Excellent. Just what she needed. To the right of the garage, an unmanned gate led to a small access road that followed the fence along the opposite side of the compound from Kirra.

Okay, go time. She moved through the trees to the rear of the compound. After verifying that there were no cameras mounted on this side of the main building, she found a place to scale the fence where there was little chance of being spotted or heard by the guards.

Once she’d dropped onto the ground inside the compound, she held still until she was certain no one had noticed her. Then, keeping to the shadows, she crept over and sabotaged the generators. Next, she cut the power to the building. The exterior lights went out. The cameras would have backup batteries, but they wouldn’t matter in a moment.

Running lightly over to the garage, she darted inside. The four-by-four was newer and in better condition, but would be difficult to hot-wire. The
bakkie
looked ready to fall apart, but it took only a moment to get it started. Kirra tossed her bag onto the passenger seat and slipped behind the wheel. Since they drove on the right here, she’d known that the clutch and gear shift would be on the wrong side. Still, it took her a minute to figure out the new arrangement. Alternating glances at the back door of the building, she attempted to put the vehicle in reverse twice before she got it right. Then she pushed the button on the little box attached to the roof and watched through the garage window to her right as the gate in the fence slid open.

The back door of the building burst open. Two men raced out.

Kirra tore backward out of the garage, then almost stalled when she fumbled the transition out of reverse. The men fired at her. Bullets pinged off her rear bumper.

Swearing, she shoved the gear shift into place. The horrific grinding noise indicated she’d hit the wrong gear, but the
bakkie
lurched forward anyway.

The men chased her as she careened out the gate and turned onto the narrow access lane that ran parallel to the fence. A few meters on, the generators exploded, tossing her pursuers to the ground.

Glancing across the compound at the main gate, she saw both guards running toward the explosion. So far, they hadn’t spotted her.

She’d just rounded the front corner of the compound and was aiming for the bridge when she heard a shout. One of the men from the back of the building had regained his feet. He raced toward the gate guards, waving his arms. The guards looked in Kirra’s direction, then ran for their four-by-four.

Kirra ignored them, because worrying if they’d catch her would only distract her from safely crossing the bridge. Mentally calculating the distance between the
bakkie
’s wheels and comparing it to the distance between the edge of the canyon and the first of the land mines at the bridge, she estimated that she’d have just enough room to squeeze past.

Of course, she’d have to balance the vehicle almost as carefully as Seth had along that drainage ditch. Which would be a lot easier if the steering wheel and gear shift were on the correct side of the vehicle.

There’s nothing like a challenge.

Right. Time to see how steady her nerves were.

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