Dire Distraction (9 page)

He reached into his go-bag and produced a cylindrical grenade. A flash-bang.

“You certainly came prepared.” Sydney couldn’t keep a note of admiration from her voice.

“A parting gift from my munitions expert. She’s big on being prepared for every opportunity.”

“What else have you got in there?”

“Just a couple of hand grenades and the guns you took off the boat. I’m figuring we can rig some of the ammo and use a grenade to set off a second explosion. Make them really think they’re under attack.”

“It just might work. But we’ll have to be careful. The ground is saturated, and between that and the rain, it could be difficult to get the ammo to ignite.”

“Worst-case scenario, we’ll just go with the flash-bang and the grenade. But to make it work, we’re going to have to separate. We need the explosions to come from both sides. Convince them that there are more than just two of us out there.”

“Just tell me what to do.”

A
very moved silently through the trees, skirting the one holding Shrum’s henchman, resisting the desire to climb up there and take the bastard out himself. If he failed, Sydney would be on her own. Better to stick to the plan.

After waiting for the two guards on the ground to meet and set off again, Sydney had taken the flash-bang and one of the three hand grenades and headed south. The plan was for her to pull the pin and throw the stun grenade at the appointed time, and then get the hell out of Dodge. The grenade was meant to be a backup.

Meanwhile, Avery was heading north—hoping to set up an identical show of fire power, this time rigging the ammo to blow when the grenade made contact and, if that failed, to simply throw his backup as far away from the gate as he could. As soon as Sydney detonated, Avery would follow suit, and then the two of them would double back and meet just inside the opening to the canyon. It was a risky move, and one that admittedly could end in failure, but it was their best shot at getting through the opening undetected.

All that remained was for everything to proceed as planned. After successfully circling around the sniper, Avery covered the rest of the distance with ease, glancing down at his watch to be sure that he still had the time he needed to get things set. Just under five minutes.

He strode into a small clearing and knelt beside a waist-high boulder, the center slightly concave, making it the perfect mixing bowl. Working as quickly as his fingers would allow, he lined the rock’s indentation with a piece of plastic torn from the inside of the go-bag. Then he emptied gun powder from several of the ammo cartridges onto the plastic. After adding several live rounds in addition to the gun powder, he laid a grenade on the top after carefully tying a thin length of twine to the pin.

Moving slowly backward, Avery straightened the length of twine until it was taut and then settled behind the trunk of a rosewood to wait for Sydney’s explosion. Watching the seconds tick down on his watch, he held his breath. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three…

The jungle lit up with the sound and fury of the flash-bang, and Avery yanked hard on the twine, the little rope resisting for a second and then the pin flying free, the grenade exploding as a rush of fire whooshed upward into the jungle canopy.

Springing to his feet, Avery ran through the trees, heading back to the opening, knowing that they had only seconds before reinforcements arrived and attention returned to the crevice. As he rounded the corner, he saw one of the guards just off to his left, the man sprinting through the bushes toward the second explosion, his path taking him right onto a collision course with Avery’s.

Switching course quickly, Avery ducked to the ground and lobbed his second grenade in the opposite direction, the jungle exploding again with sound and light. The guard responded immediately, his path shifting away from Avery’s, and in seconds, Avery was back on his feet and running full out for the opening.

He burst through the undergrowth and cut across the small clearing, ducking behind the rocks just as the other guard stepped from the trees. Holding position, he waited, eyes on the man as he rushed past, heading for the site of Sydney’s explosion. So far so good.

Turning away from the opening, Avery quickly searched the narrow passageway for signs of Shrum’s men. But although he could hear raised voices from somewhere on the far side, there was nothing in the immediate area that presented a threat.

There was also no sign of Sydney.

Avery swallowed a curse, realizing that wishing Sydney out of danger would not make it so. And although he’d wanted to stop her from going on her own, he’d known that their best option was to set off the explosions simultaneously. Besides, she was trained for this kind of thing. Every bit as much a professional as he was. Still, if anything happened to her…

He pushed away the thought and moved farther into the passageway, the rock walls and the overhanging trees making it hard to make out any detail. The shadows were welcome, an easy way to blend into the background and escape detection. From outside the opening, he heard one of the guards yelling, and just above the towering rocks, he could still see a plume of smoke rising from the site of his detonation.

Where the hell was Sydney?

Out front, he heard a commotion and then the explosion of another grenade. Sydney’s backup. Moving on a rush of adrenaline and instinct, Avery pulled his rifle and headed back out the opening, his only thought to make it to Sydney in time.

After the dark of the passageway, the dappled sunlight forced him to slow his forward motion, his eyes fighting to adapt to the brighter light. At first he thought he was still in the clear, but then he saw movement at the edge of the trees. He lifted the rifle, already sighting the shot, but then lowered it quickly as Sydney emerged from the trees, hands held high, her expression a mixture of chagrin and apology.

Three men walked behind her, all of them armed, and one of them pointing his weapon at Sydney. No way in hell could he take the men out without signing her death warrant. Slowly he lowered the rifle and threw it to the ground, then he slipped off the go-bag and raised his hands.

“You should have taken them out when you had the chance,” Sydney said, trying to contain her surging anger. She didn’t actually blame Avery. He’d made the only choice he could have under the circumstances. But that meant the reason they were in this mess was because of her. If she’d just kept a better eye out, maybe the bastards wouldn’t have managed to get the drop on her.

“I couldn’t take the chance of you getting hurt.” His voice was patient. As if being locked in a dank cell dug into the side of the hill was an everyday occurrence. If he was angry, he showed no sign of it. Which somehow only made her feel more agitated.

“I’d have managed.” The words were a lie. He knew it. And she knew it. But the truth did nothing to soothe her rattled nerves. “Besides, what were you doing coming back out of the opening? You’d made it. All you had to do was stay hidden.”

“I heard the commotion and then your final grenade. I knew there was trouble. On my team, we don’t leave a man down. No matter what the operation calls for.”

“I know.” She stopped pacing and ran a hand through her hair. “I just feel like this is all my fault. If I had been more careful, then maybe we wouldn’t be stuck in this hole.”

“Well, the way I look at it, we’ve still managed to achieve our goal. We’re in Shrum’s compound. And when he finds out who we are…”

“He’ll shoot us then.” She slammed a hand against the door and then winced as pain shot up her arm.

“Are you always this negative when the chips are down?” The teasing tone in his voice actually made her smile, and some of her anger dissipated. He had a way of doing that. Disarming you when you least expected it.

“No. I guess I just feel guilty for screwing up.”

“But you didn’t. It just didn’t play the way we wanted it to. We knew there was risk going in. It could just as easily have been me as you.”

“Now I know you’re full of it. You would never have allowed yourself to get caught.”

“Sydney,” he said, striding across the cell, his size dwarfing the space, “it wasn’t your fault.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “You followed my orders to the letter. If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I put you in a position of danger. But either way, it doesn’t matter. It’s not about blame, it’s about accepting the situation and making sure we get out of it alive.”

She nodded, her gaze locked with his. And for a minute, she forgot to breathe, but then he released her, and she took a step back, needing the distance.

“As I said before, the whole reason for being here is to talk to Shrum. And our getting captured has put us in position to do just that.” His smile was warm, his teeth bright against the gloom.

“Without weapons or gear.” She crossed her arms, trying her best not to give in to his charm.

“He’d have taken them anyway. Give yourself a break, Sydney. There’s nothing to be gained in beating yourself up. And believe me, if I thought you deserved it, I’d be the first in line to let you know.”

That much she did believe. Avery called it the way he saw it. But that didn’t negate the fact that she’d managed to get them caught. Still, he was right. Best to suck it up and move on. There was nothing to be gained in giving in to self-pity.

“All right, fine. So what do we do next?” she asked, her gaze moving around the tiny room. The walls were earthen, shored up with large pieces of timber. It reminded her of an old silver mine she’d visited once when she was a kid.

The metal door was secured from the outside with a tiny opening serving as the only window to the outside. So far there hadn’t been much to see. Just the man standing guard and the occasional passerby, everyone armed to the teeth.

“Unless you’ve got a shovel hidden somewhere, I don’t think we’re going to dig out. And we’re sure as hell not going to get through that door. So I think the best thing we can do right now is sit tight.”

“And wait for them to kill us?”

“If they wanted us dead, we’d already be there. The very fact that we’re here and alive indicates that they’ve got something else in mind for us. Since the only one here who could possibly recognize me is Martin, I’m guessing they’re thinking ransom. Or if they’ve recognized you, then maybe they’re hoping to trade your freedom for an agreement to transport their drugs.”

“Either way, we’re fucked.” She was back to sounding mutinous. He opened his mouth to respond but she held up her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just pissed because I got caught. I don’t like losing.”

“Neither do I, but I also believe in cutting my losses. So let’s concentrate on turning this to our advantage. If their angle is to get you to act as a courier, then I say we go with it.”

“But I was expressly told not to go down that road.”

“And you’re going to choose now to toe the line?”

“Okay, maybe not,” she agreed grudgingly. “But how does my agreeing to play ball help us achieve our goal?”

“If you hold out for an audience with Shrum, it gets us in front of him.”

“Couldn’t you just tell the guard who you are?”

“I’d rather hang on to the element of surprise. If he realizes I’m here and Evangeline is alive, then there’s a damn good chance that he’ll sequester her somewhere. If I can catch him off guard, I’ve got a better chance of getting at the truth. At least I hope to hell I do.”

“So we wait.” She sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, elbows on knees, her face in her hands. She heard him moving across the room, but was still surprised when he sat down next to her, an arm sliding around her shoulders.

“It’s going to be okay.”

It was so damn tempting to give in. To lean against his shoulder and revel in his strength. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time someone had just held her. With no ulterior motive, no desire to do anything except give comfort. Her father wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, and her mother’s idea of nurturing was tough love. Chin up and carry on.

So the idea of surrender was seductive. But at the end of the day, she was her mother’s daughter. And she’d made it this far by depending on herself. And just because something in Avery Solomon spoke to some deep part of her soul, it didn’t mean she had to melt in a puddle every time the man touched her. So she squared her shoulders, lifted her head, and pulled free.

“Tell me more about Shrum. You said that the two of you had a falling-out and that you stopped working together, but how did he go from a CIA operative to drug runner? I know it’s a fine line we walk, but most of the time we manage to keep our balance.”

For a moment, she thought that Avery wasn’t going to answer, the only sound in the tiny cell the rise and fall of their breathing.

“Assuming the photograph I have is a fake, and that the truth as I know it is still the truth, then I think the bottom line is that Evangeline’s death drove Shrum over the edge.”

“But she was your wife. Surely if anyone had the right to lose it, it was you.”

“Oh, believe me, I did my share of grieving,” he said. “But with Shrum it was different. He was always the kind of man who pushed the envelope, dared the odds. It’s part of what made him a successful operative. But he always knew when to pull back. When to stop. But when Evangeline died, it was like a switch turned off. He just didn’t give a damn anymore.”

“What about you?”

“I wanted answers. And I wanted revenge.”

“So you and Shrum started in on each other.”

“For a short while.” He nodded. “It wasn’t pretty either. And worse, it jeopardized our missions. But then I realized the best thing to do was walk away. Revenge doesn’t do anyone any good. It sure as hell wasn’t going to bring my wife back. So I pulled some strings and got myself transferred stateside. It was the first of my stints with the Pentagon.”

“And Shrum?”

“He disappeared. Just like that. Fell off the grid completely.”

“So he must have already been planning his exit,” she said with a frown. “I mean, I get being pissed off and maybe even not wanting to go on, but losing someone you love doesn’t make you give up on your country.”

“It does if you believe your country let you down. Shrum was convinced that there was more to the bombing than was initially reported. And although he pressed the CIA to investigate, they refused. Saying that it was a military matter and out of our purview.”

“But you must have been pressing as well.”

“I was,” he agreed. “But I also realized that there was a real possibility that we’d never know what really happened. Roadside bombings were almost a daily occurrence at that point in Iraq. And back then, we weren’t as sure of who the various insurgencies were. No one stepped forward to take responsibility, and I was never able to dig up anything to help identify who did it.”

“And was Shrum right? Did our government stand in your way?”

“Not in my way, no. But it would have been damn near impossible to stop me. However, they weren’t helpful. Partially because they were trying to contain public opinion in the States, which meant underplaying civilian casualties. As I said, this was long before embedding journalists with the troops was the norm.”