Captive of Fate (9 page)

At San Dolega, Alanna followed him silently to the supply depot area. The police commissioner met them, resplendent in his khaki uniform and newly polished brass. She suppressed a desire to giggle over the man’s overbearing manner. Matt, however, patiently stroked the man’s incredible ego as they outlined a plan to discover where the supplies might have been stolen. With Alanna acting as interpreter, Matt’s plan was finally approved after an hour of haggling.

As they walked back toward the medical dispensary set up inside another tent, Alanna said, “What a pompous bastard!”

Matt grinned. “What’s this? My dove from the Hill resorting to foul language unbecoming to a lady?”

She grinned. “I’m sorry. I just don’t see how you could stand there and take his bluster and bluffing. He didn’t know a thing about the job he’s charged with. I’ll bet he never gets out of his air-conditioned office.”

“Very perceptive on your part. Say, you’re becoming indispensable to me.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or an insult,” she returned, matching his smile. Her heart soared as she saw some of the exhaustion and depression lifting from his taut features. His gray eyes lightened, and that familiar spark of laughter reappeared within their depths. For that moment, even the shadow of Senator Thornton dissipated.

Matt lifted the heavy mosquito netting for her, and they ducked inside the medical facility. “Believe me, that’s a compliment. You’re very good at interpreting.”

“Except for understanding my own actions,” she put in dryly.

“You just needed a few things pointed out to you.”

“I owe you for a lot of those discoveries,” Alanna said, becoming serious.

Matt took off his cap, stuffing it in his back pocket. A new glitter came to his eyes. “And I intend to collect, believe me,” he promised, the velvet threat sending shivers through her body.

A
t noon, Alanna was famished. She tried to forget that, by the time they came down off the mountain that evening, there might be a message from Senator Thornton. The thought sent a chill of fear through her. She ignored that, relishing each new job that Matt showed her during his appointed rounds. There was little more she could do now since all the supplies had been duly entered on the log sheet. And until the police commissioner and his roving teams of men found some evidence, she would have to wait it out just like Matt.

Finding two empty petrol cans, they made themselves comfortable while they ate. With the blazing sun high overhead, the insects buzzed annoyingly around them. Alanna took another swipe at one, muttering a curse under her breath. She looked up to see Matt grinning.

“You don’t like jungle living?” he taunted.

“No! How did you ever stand living over in Vietnam?”

“It was an adjustment,” he agreed congenially.

“You probably used up mosquito repellent by the canful.”

“No. The enemy would smell us coming three miles away if we wore that stuff.”

She stopped eating. “You simply amaze me, Matt. I had no idea of what kind of things you or any of those men had to go through over there.”

“Few people do,” he agreed. “But don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault. It didn’t make interesting news or good material for the ratings war carried on by the evening news programs.”

“I never realized the extent of a serviceman’s commitment, that’s all,” she answered lamely. “I feel more than a little guilty over giving you such a tough time about the military when we first met.”

“The last few days have softened your view?”

She nodded, a note of awe in her tone. “More than just a little. Paul used to put down the military, and I guess I allowed his attitude to rub off on me. All my friends went to college and avoided the draft. And when I started to work for Senator Thornton, I really got brainwashed on militarism.”

He set the plate down at his feet. “You should never feel ashamed of being ignorant about something, Alanna. Unfortunately, that’s the way we all learn, blundering into new areas, stumbling, maybe falling.” He offered her a smile of encouragement. “I figured if I gave you half a chance, you might change your mind about us.”

“You looked like you were ready to murder me that first day,” she confided.

“It was a damn good thing you were a woman. Two hours earlier I had had a confrontation with a group of television reporters who bumped some medical personnel off another C-130. When Haskell didn’t show, it was the perfect end to a very bad day.”

She grinned. “Then I’m glad I
am
a woman. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. You scared the hell out of me.”

Matt laughed. “You’ve seen me at my worst. Now we have no place to go but up.”

Caution replaced her ebullient mood. “Maybe…” she whispered. She saw his eyes widen with a brief startled expression. “Matt…this investigation, I have to finish it. I worry what the senator will do with the message I had to send this morning. I don’t even want to go into the radio shack to find out.” She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled by the prospect.

“Alanna.” His tone was steadying. “You do the job you were assigned. Report the facts and stand your ground. He may try to railroad you with his political razzle-dazzle. I know Thornton too well. He’s known on the Hill to blow things out of proportion on just a few thin threads of circumstantial evidence. You know he’ll do the same no matter how you worded that message. I worry more about you in this situation than I do about myself.”

Her brows drew down in puzzlement. “Why? I mean, aren’t you afraid of what he might do to your career?”

Matt rested his arms against his thighs, watching several workmen begin to haul away rubble from a destroyed hut. “He’s tried this twice before, Alanna, and I know his strategy and tactics by heart.” He turned, looking down into her upturned face. “I worry because you’ve never seen him in action before. He can twist things, Babe, and perhaps make you believe them. You’re at a vulnerable stage in your life, and he might try to manipulate you in these circumstances.”

“That’s impossible! I’d never do anything underhanded, Matt!” Her nostrils flared with indignation at his accusations.

“Not knowingly,” he soothed. He looked down at his dusty boots. “Damn,” he swore softly.

She tilted her head. “What?”

Matt rose, picking up his aluminum plate. “I have the poorest timing in the world,” he muttered.

Perplexed, she fell into step with him. “On what?”

“Nothing. Come on, let’s drop these off at the chow hall and go over to see our zealous police commandant.”

*

Alanna’s spirits rose even more when she excitedly reported to Matt that the commissioner had discovered some partially dismantled crates out in the jungle. Matt had spread a map out on an excuse of a table in the bright sunlight and was hunkered over it with the Costa Rican official. Painstakingly, he forced the policeman to pinpoint the spot. Just as Matt was going to say something, the radio he carried on his belt blared to life. She stood to one side, listening intently to the conversation. It was Captain Jackson asking Matt to meet him at the base camp immediately. Matt pursed his mouth, signing off.

“Ask the commissioner to send his best men out to that spot and get photographs for me, Alanna. Tell him I’ll be back in about four hours.” His voice deepened with authority, and he gave her a measuring glance. “In the meantime, you stay put, understand?”

“Of course,” she answered, stung by the accusing tone in his voice. She relayed the information to the commissioner, and Matt seemed satisfied.

“I’ll see you in a while,” he promised, and then turned, jogging back down toward the center of the village to the chopper landing area.

Alanna waited until the helicopter disappeared down the side of the mountain and turned to the commissioner. She smiled disarmingly, pulling her official papers from Washington out of her briefcase.

“Por Favor,”
she began, watching his dark brown eyes light up with instant interest. “I would like to go with your men to this site. I also need photographs for my boss, the exambassador, Senator Thornton.”

“
Sí, sí, señorita.
I personally know your illustrious ambassador to our great country. I would be honored.” He bowed his head, giving her an oily smile.

Alanna cringed inwardly, hoping that the trio she was to travel with wouldn’t be so unctuous.
“Gracias,”
she murmured, demurely lowering her lashes and avoiding his openly hungry expression.

Within half an hour, they had begun their trek to the east of San Dolega. Almost immediately they were swallowed up in the dense forest of towering mahogany trees. Alanna doggedly carried her briefcase, trying to keep up the pace that the policemen had set. Each man wore a heavy pack resembling the one she had seen Matt carry. A stray thought hit her as they struggled over another steep hill which led into a ravine on the other side. How far away was this place where the crates had been found? She pushed a stray tendril of hair away from her eyes, perspiration running down her temples. Well, it was too late now. More than anything, she wanted photos of the area. She didn’t trust the Costa Ricans’ ability to take the shots that might end up extricating Matt from this whole messy affair. Luckily, she always carried her own pocket camera in her briefcase and a few rolls of extra film.

The sun’s light dimmed as they progressed toward their destination and evening approached. The thick jungle foliage and ever-present vines forced them to use their machetes. In those moments Alanna was able to stop and catch her breath as they hacked a narrow trail through the undergrowth. She noted that each man carried a side arm, but no rife.

As the cape of darkness slid across the jungle, Alanna drew to a halt. The team leader motioned his men to put down their packs and make camp for the night. She found a clear spot and put her briefcase down, sitting on top of it. Pulling off the ruined shoes, Alanna tenderly rubbed her aching feet. A sense of despair fell over her. Memories of sharing Matt’s small shelter surfaced in her mind. She had felt safe with him. As she looked at each of the men with her, she felt no sense of safety. The team leader had, on more than one occasion, tried to strike up a conversation with her. She had politely dismissed his attempts. But now his almond eyes expressed a more direct interest in her. Where would she sleep tonight?

Unhappily, she reviewed the choices, and none were pleasant. She remembered what Matt had said about a lone woman out in the jungle. Goosepimples rose on her arms, and she rubbed them briskly. It can’t be helped, she thought. I’ve got to get good photos. How do we know they’ll take the proper shot or the right angle? What if they miss something that I might find? But knowing she had made the right decision in coming didn’t help her to cope with the niggling fear she felt.

The team leader, Juan, offered to share his food with her. Starving, Alanna had no choice but to accept the tidbits. Morosely, she huddled near the open fire, trying to stay warm in her jeans and blouse. Why hadn’t she brought a coat? It always grew chilly and damp here at nightfall. What had she been thinking of?

After dinner, the policemen huddled around a well-worn map, consulting it and then checking their compass reading. Finally, after two of the three crawled into their small tents, Alanna talked with Juan.

“How far must we go to reach the crates?”

He shrugged dramatically. “Far,
señorita,
very far. You must be very tired, no? You must sleep so that you can make the trip tomorrow, eh?”

“How far is far?” she demanded, her voice hardening.

Juan scratched his stubbled jaw. “Another five kilometers, perhaps. But it is over the roughest terrain,
señorita.
I think you should use my tent.” He grinned, the gap in his front teeth showing. “It will be cold tonight, and you cannot stay out here alone.” He bowed elegantly. “We are honored to be of service to Ambassador Thornton. I would not want to bring shame on our country by allowing his lovely assistant to be mauled by jaguars.”

Alanna gasped. “Jaguars?”

“
Sí, señorita,
they roam only at night. That is why we keep a fire going, to scare them away. They fear only fire, not us. You will be safer in the tent tonight, no?”

Suddenly, the night vibrated with a piercing, almost human cry that seemed to echo throughout the blackened forest. Alanna whirled around toward the sound, hands against her mouth.

“Jaguar!” Juan whispered hoarsely.

Immediately, the other policemen tumbled out of their tents, their pistols in hand. Excitedly, they talked for a few moments in Spanish, casting uneasy glances around the forest. Alanna realized they were just as frightened as she was. The fire threw a small ring of light around the camp; shadows like writhing ghosts waited at the edge of darkness to haunt them all.

Alanna had turned toward the jungle, the policemen and tents behind her. She blinked, her heart pounding in her chest and her throat constricted with fear.

Without warning, Alanna sensed rather than heard something coming out of the jungle to her left. Half turning, her eyes widened. Matt Breckenridge seemed to materialize out of the jungle like a silent ghost with another Marine close behind him. One of the policemen gave a cry of fear, and the others whirled around. Matt’s angry gaze swung to her.

“Tell them to put those damn pistols down before they kill me or themselves with them,” he barked at her.

Alanna stumbled over the order. She watched as the Costa Ricans took a deep breath of relief as the Marine colonel and a tall corporal entered the circle of light, shrugging off their field packs near the fire. Matt’s upper body was bathed in a fine sheen of sweat, his shirt darkened beneath the armpits and down the front of his chest. Giving orders to the corporal to set up the tent he carried, Matt swung toward her and in two swift strides gripped her arm.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, giving her a small shake and then leading her away from the main group.

She opened her mouth to speak, stunned, the anger in his eyes incredibly frightening.

“I told you to stay at the village. Instead you run off with these idiots. Dammit, Alanna, sometimes you don’t have a brain in your head! Do you realize that there might be guerrillas in the area where those crates were discovered? Did you ever think that you might get killed in a firefight?” He released her, his teeth clenched. “I suppose you had to go,” he ground out, “to get proof for your dear senator.”

Her eyes stung with tears. “No! I mean—” she choked.

“Weren’t their photos good enough for you?” he growled.

Anger finally overcame her initial shock. “Don’t yell at me, Matt. Yes, I did come along to get pictures. I—I didn’t want them taking just a few photos and maybe taking the wrong angle. Or—or maybe missing something that I might see…anything to keep Senator Thornton from accusing you.”

He put his hands on his hips, disbelief etched in his fiery, silver eyes. “Tell these men to go to bed, will you?” he ordered tightly. “You and I have a few more things to discuss without them gaping at us like idiots.”

Quickly, she conveyed his orders, watching them retreat gratefully back into their individual tents. The corporal who had come with Matt crawled into his own tent, pulling down the flap. Hesitantly, she returned her attention to Matt. He had opened the pack and was setting up his tent opposite those of the Costa Ricans. Chewing on her lower lip, she shuffled over to where he knelt.

“I asked the police commissioner to tell you where I had gone. He said he would do it.”

He glared up at her. “That bastard didn’t say a thing. I sent Cauley all over the damn place trying to find you. Your dear commissioner left hours earlier without so much as a good-bye.”

She rubbed her forehead in consternation. “I didn’t know—”

He jerked the shelter halves upright, tying the last rope, making it taut. “You drive me crazy, Alanna. One minute you’re a mature woman and the next you’re a thoughtless child.”