WAR: Disruption (17 page)

“The rebels used their trucks to block access to the intersection,” Max said. “They fired on the waiting vehicles, then blasted a crater in the road with dynamite. No one is getting past the crossroads without detouring through the jungle, and most of the passenger cars don’t have the muscle for jungle driving.”

“Casualties?”

“Not as bad as expected. Word got out and people on our side had already started to move out of range before the rebels opened fire. Although a few rebels died because they didn’t move out of the blast zone fast enough.”

Kris rubbed the bridge of his nose. The leaders of the rebellion encouraged vicious, senseless violence as a way to keep people living in terror, too afraid to fight back. That allowed the rebels to hold more territory than their mostly inexperienced and undisciplined fighters warranted. Add to that a core of well-trained, well-equipped fighters who were scattered throughout the various rebel groups, and it became increasingly difficult to keep them from implementing their destructive goals.

He sighed and glanced over at the report on his desk. The rebels had emerged two years ago in West Guinea. A mercenary force had been encouraged by a shadowy group of Africans to stir up anti-government resentment and hostility left over from the civil war. Those angry locals had become the original AFA rebels. They’d quickly been augmented by a corps of African fighters who’d been trained in some of the most brutal terrorist camps in the world. These fighters had given the rebels the strength and leadership to make immediate progress toward wrestling control of the country away from the government. They’d attacked government facilities, religious institutions, and any businesses associated with foreigners until West Guinea erupted into a new civil war. The rebels had also taken control of several key resources such as oil wells, guaranteeing they had sufficient funds to keep fighting.

Eventually, the government had toppled and was replaced by a rebel-led dictatorship. Their power secure, the core force of disciplined rebel fighters had moved into the Democratic Republic of the Ivory Coast and began the same process of igniting old anger. The size and strength of the rebel forces grew, allowing them to control increasing swathes of territory.

One of the reasons Kris and his teammates from Unit 3 had joined WAR was that they’d suspected that the men who’d initiated the rebellion had more in mind than creating a unified West African state. Rumors suggested that this mystery group intended to turn the region into the newest staging ground for terrorist attacks against the United States and other Western powers.

Yet with the recent flare-ups in the Middle East and other hotspots, the U.S. and its allies had their attention elsewhere. Leaving this fight to WAR.

“Okay,” Kris said, forcing his attention back to his conversation with Max. “Are you still on mission?”

“Yes. We skirted the crater. We’re heading north as we speak.”

“Good. Any other news?”

Max explained about the photos Emily had taken that seemed to show pieces of the downed plane. “Finally, a break,” Kris said.

“Yeah.”

“How far are you from the area?” He had to assume that the original timing for the sale was still in effect, leaving Max only eight more days.

“I have to get Emily over the border first. That’s why I’m calling. Can you send someone else to look for the plane?”

Shit. “No. Max, I already explained. We’re—”

Max cursed. Told someone to pull over. “Sorry. Gotta go. Firefight up ahead.”

The line went dead. Great.

Kris set his phone back on the cradle. He was glad Wil had returned to his office in the Greater Niger Republic. The last thing the man needed was a reminder of how much danger Max was in. And Kris hadn’t missed the increased tension in Max’s voice. Some of it was probably due to the stress of navigating through terrain partially controlled by the rebels. But Kris suspected Max’s injuries were bothering him. Hell, for all he knew, Max had been hurt again.

Yeah, much better for Wil to be back at work, no matter how dull life seemed without his presence.

With a sigh, he pulled up the current list of team assignments. He had a bad feeling that Max was going to need help sooner rather than later.

The Republic of the Volta

West Africa

MAX ENDED THE call with Kristoff and stuck his phone back in its holder. From the location of the gunfire, he figured the way station was under attack.

“You didn’t tell your friend about your leg,” Emily chided. She steered the vehicle deeper into the trees and parked it in the shadows underneath a wide palm.

Max shrugged. “What’s the point? Kristoff doesn’t have any medics to send to my aid. Rene is busy taking care of the wounded down south. No one else is working nearby.” He opened his door and gingerly climbed out. “Wait here. I want to see who’s fighting at the way station—if it’s just the rebels and the locals, or if the government has gotten involved.”

Emily scowled at him, but he ignored her as he walked around the front of the Jeep. When he saw her open her door, he shook his head. Gripping the edge of the door so she couldn’t get past his extended arm, he leaned forward. “Promise me you’ll stay here.”

A new burst of gunfire shattered the evening’s calm and she flinched. “Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Because he understood how much courage it took for her to stay put, he bent down and kissed her. Damn, he loved how her lips cushioned his. How she tasted so sweet. He had to force himself to pull away immediately, because he really wanted to undertake a long, thorough exploration of her mouth.

Wrong time. Wrong place.

Instead, he gave her his most reassuring smile, then turned and walked closer to the fighting.

He had to push his way through tall grass and bushes, but he made decent time. Up ahead, the gunfire continued in sporadic bursts. When the vegetation began to thin, he stopped. If he hadn’t been wounded, he’d have crawled forward from here. As it was, he used the binoculars to focus in on the action.

The rebels’ troop transport truck blocked the entrance to the road. The rebel soldiers were pinned down in the middle of the lorry park, using one of their vehicles and what was left of the tour company’s Land Cruiser as protection. The inhabitants of the way station fired at the rebels with shotguns and at least one AK-47.

Max did a quick search, but saw no sign of Ziegler.

He eased back the way he’d come.

Emily was standing outside the Jeep when he returned. Her face relaxed when she saw him and he realized that she’d been worried about him. It felt strange, but nice, to be the target of a woman’s concern again. He rubbed the back of his neck. Damn, he really had been out in the jungle too long.

“What’s the situation?” she asked.

He explained, then added, “We’ll have to cross the road again.” He glanced over at her. “I saw you rubbing your damaged shoulder. Are you good for another few hours?” Wrestling the heavy vehicle without power steering had to be taking a toll on her.

She shrugged and held out her hands. “No muscle tremors or spasms yet, so I’m okay.”

“That’s my girl.” The words felt oddly right. Almost inevitable.

Emily raised a brow at him, the slight motion giving her such a regal air that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?”

“You. One raised eyebrow and you went from bedraggled waif to imperious queen.”

Emily stuck her nose in the air and let go of him. “Hmph.”

He grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “It’s cute.”

She mock glared at him. “That’s the best you can do?”

“Sure.” He pursed his lips. “Okay, it’s sexy, too. How about that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Better.”

He grinned. “You’re a good sport, Emily Iwasaki.”

“What? Now you’re British? Who says ‘good sport’ any more?”

“Hey, I’m a world traveler. I’ll adapt whatever language I please, so long as it conveys what I need.”

She opened her mouth as if to reply, but a startled parrot exploded out of the bushes next to her and she shrieked instead.

“Sorry,” she immediately said. She gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess I’m a bit on edge.”

“No worries. I’d be surprised if you weren’t. You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

She looked pointedly at his injured leg.

“Yeah, okay, that’d be my clutch leg, but still…”

She shook her head. “No. Save your strength. The way our luck has been going, you’re going to need it.”

Hating that she was right, he climbed back into the passenger seat.

They crossed the road without incident, then drove through tall grasses toward the jungle’s edge. While the grass was easier to navigate, it also left a more noticeable trail as the Jeep flattened and otherwise displaced the grass.

Dammit, he should have created a diversion in case they were followed.

No. On second thought, he didn’t want to draw the attention of the rebels away from the fight. He’d just have to watch for signs that someone was manning the transport truck. They couldn’t afford to have a rebel scout spot them.

They finally reached the jungle and Emily turned into it, driving roughly parallel to the road. For someone not used to driving, let alone driving a stick shift Jeep, she impressed him with her skill. He only wished he could do something to help.

“You’re an amazing woman, Emily. You’re handling all of this incredibly well.”

Her head rocked back in surprise at his statement. “Uh,” she said. “Thanks.”

He reached for her hand. “How many times do I have to say it before you’ll believe it, Emily? You’ve got strength. The ability to still see the humor in life despite all we’ve been through. You haven’t once thrown a hissy fit or complained about how tired you are.” He placed a kiss to the middle of her palm. “Amazing.”

Her cheeks reddened. “I…” She glanced away, then shrugged. “Thanks.”

And…she hated being complimented. Right. Should have remembered that.

Emily pulled her hand away and pursed her lips. “Max, it’s going to be full dark soon.”

“Yeah, I know.” He hated to ask, but, “Do you think you can keep driving after dark if I give you the night vision goggles? We really need to put more distance between us and the rebels.”

She rolled her neck and flexed her fingers against the steering wheel. “I honestly don’t know. I’ll do my best.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t going to say anything yet, because he didn’t want to argue with her, but if they hadn’t made it far enough from the way station before the light completely disappeared, then he would take over the driving. He wanted to get far, far away from the rebels.

AN HOUR AFTER the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, Emily wore the night vision goggles as she drove without lights along the road. She’d been forced out of the jungle because the trees here grew too close together to allow the Jeep to pass.

The muscles across her back were tight and achy and her arms felt heavy as lead. She knew Max’s mission to find the plane and retrieve the weapon was important, and that she needed to get over the border, but she could barely keep the Jeep on the road. If—

The vehicle bucked, then lurched to the right. “What’s happening?” Emily shrieked as she fought the wheel and steered them to the side of the road. “Max?”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He put his hand on her thigh, and the heat and weight of it broke through her panic. “We’ve got a flat. No problem. We have a spare.”

Emily sat frozen in her seat, her heart still hammering in her chest, as Max got out to take a look.

He poked his head back through the window. “Yep. Flat tire.”

Emily removed the night vision goggles, then stared out at the darkness. “Max, can we
please
just stop here for the night? I’m so tired, I can’t go on. I know we have the goggles, but wouldn’t it be easier to change the tire tomorrow morning?”

His jaw firmed and she knew he wanted to protest. That if Max were alone, he’d keep driving until he collapsed. But if there was one thing Emily had learned during her years as a dancer, it was to recognize her limits and stop before her body shut down. “If we push on tonight, then I’m going to be too exhausted tomorrow to be of any help. Please.”

She met his eyes and saw his expression soften. He stroked her cheek. “All right. But we’re going to change the tire first, then find a spot wide enough so we can drive into the jungle and camp. That way, we’ll be ready to make a quick getaway in the morning, if necessary.”

“Thank you!” She gave him what she intended to be a grateful peck on the lips, but he leaned forward and deepened the kiss. She closed her eyes, sinking into the heat and the comfort of it. Then, before she lost her head, she pulled back. “Okay, Mr. Fix-It. Let’s do this.”

“You don’t have to help,” Max said. “I know how tired you are.”

Emily crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrow, since that seemed to have had a positive effect on him earlier. “So says the man who’s been beaten until his ribs cracked, sliced with a knife, and speared by a piece of metal.”

Max tipped his head in her direction to acknowledge her comment. He reached into the back seat and pulled out two energy bars and their water bottles. “Munch on this. We both need energy, first.”

“Talk about bossy.” Emily rolled her eyes, but tore off the wrapping and took a huge bite, because darn it, she was starving. The dry mix of nuts and berries tasted surprisingly good. “Where’d you get these?” She hadn’t seen energy bars on sale at the local market.

He gave her a smug smile. “Special stash from that underground group. They keep road-worthy snacks available at all of their safe houses.”

Emily finished her bar and washed it down with a long drink of water, then placed the used wrapper in the plastic garbage sack. Their water was running low, but since they both had advanced filters on their bottles, all they needed to do was find a stream. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Max dusted off his hands and stowed their trash in the cargo compartment.

“Are your ribs up for lifting down the spare tire?” she asked, pulling on the night vision goggles and opening the panel where the tools were kept.