WAR: Disruption (26 page)

Engrossed in their conversation, the women paid no attention to the jungle. They passed out baskets and received hoes in return, then the entire group spread out and began to weed.

Emily held herself still. But as the work continued and no one glanced in her direction, she gradually relaxed.

Okay. Now she had to figure a way to wiggle deeper into the jungle without drawing attention to herself. Then she could return to the path and continue her search. Still on her belly, she straightened her right leg, then her left. Pushed up with her hands.

One of the men in the field shouted an alarm.

Emily froze. Didn’t dare to even breathe. Had they spotted her? Was she in danger?

Lowering herself back down, she twisted her neck until she could see the far end of the field. Two men reached into the branches of a thick bush and pulled out something white, roughly rectangular, and almost the length of the taller man’s arm.

One of them gestured excitedly and the women hurried over.

Was that a piece of the plane? Emily felt for the binoculars attached to her pack. Max had told her that the lenses had a special anti-glare coating on them, so she felt safe using them. Glasses in hand, she brought the object into focus. Sure enough, the white object definitely appeared to be manmade. From the ragged shape, it could have been a piece torn from a falling plane.

Afraid to use her camera because it didn’t have no-glare lenses, she marked the GPS location on Max’s watch. The workers examined the piece for several minutes. Animated hand gestures indicated some kind of discussion. Then one of the men shrugged and they tossed the piece back into the jungle.

Emily created a rough map in her head. If, as she suspected, the white object in her photo had been taken on the other side of the fungi tree, that was east of here. Max had said that data indicated the plane had been flying east to west. So the rest of the plane probably lay somewhere to the left of where the farmers had found today’s piece.

She eyed the jungle around her. Nope. Too thick. She wasn’t skilled enough to move silently through that tangle of vegetation. With a sigh of resignation, she realized that she’d have to wait for the villagers to leave before she could investigate. She checked the time on her watch, but she had no idea how long it would take to fill the baskets. Or whether they had other tasks to perform once the weeding was done.

So she stayed in position as the day advanced. The temperature increased. Insects buzzed around her. Sweat beaded on her skin. Moving an inch at a time, she eased her water bottle off her backpack and took a long drink, unwilling to risk dehydration. After a few hours the helicopter flew overhead. She grimaced. Max would freak out when she didn’t return after a reasonable amount of time, particularly with the helicopter still nearby. Hopefully, he was smart enough not to come searching for her. Under normal circumstances she had no doubt that Max could sneak through the jungle. Given his wounds, she suspected he wouldn’t be nearly as stealthy as this situation required.

The villagers quickly filled the baskets with weeds. But instead of taking the nearly overflowing baskets away, the women carried them to a spot not far from where the men had found the plane debris. Emily raised the binoculars again and saw a small, three-sided fire pit with concrete block walls. The villagers dumped the weeds on the ashes, then returned to the field and continued working.

Great. Looked like she’d be here all day. Emily sighed, and settled in to wait.

At some point, she dozed off. When she awoke, over an hour had passed. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t dare unzip her pack to retrieve any food.

By the time the entire field was weeded and the uprooted weeds burned, the sun was well on its way toward the horizon. Emily almost cheered when the group finally gathered their supplies and headed back down the path.

She gave them fifteen minutes to get back to the village, then pushed to her feet. Her muscles were stiff after so many hours in one position, so she eased her body through a series of stretches. Once she could move without wincing, she ate some groundnuts and dried mango and washed them down with a huge drink of water. Then she shouldered her pack, slung her camera around her neck, and headed toward the spot where the villagers had found the plane debris. When she located the piece, which sure looked like it came from a plane, she snapped several photographs from various angles and marked the spot on the GPS.

She investigated further, moving steadily to the west and northwest of the field and found a few more pieces scattered haphazardly throughout the jungle. As she’d thought before, it appeared that these were pieces that had fallen off while the plane was still in the air.

She looked up as she walked, picturing the plane disintegrating as it fell. She imagined the panic of the courier and the desperate attempts of the pilot to forestall the crash as they—

Her right foot fell into space and her stomach pitched like a falling plane. Her dancer’s reflexes kicked in and she threw her weight backward, grabbing the nearest tree before she fell headfirst into a gully. Oops.

Peering down into the small gap between the thick canopy of trees growing at the bottom of the ravine, she spotted another piece of debris. She marked the GPS location, then checked the sky.

Shoot. Dusk was falling.

Still, despite the hours-long delay, she was satisfied with her work. Once again stowing her camera in her rucksack, she set the GPS toward the Jeep and hurried through the jungle.

Toward Max.

HALF AN HOUR after Emily left, Max’s body had simply shut down despite the worry gnawing at him. Now, after sleeping for nearly three hours and grabbing a meal from the limited supplies provided by Emily’s homestay mother, he felt stronger. Not ready to take on one of Dietrich’s men in hand-to-hand combat, but not invalid weak, either.

His mind sure as hell was sharper today. Unfortunately, it had already concocted a dozen different scenarios where Dietrich’s men or the rebels captured Emily. He’d always sucked at waiting. If he didn’t have a mental problem to chew on, then he needed physical activity to keep him busy. He had to find a way to occupy his time until Emily returned or he was going to do something stupid. Like get behind the wheel and drive after her.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, he climbed out of the Jeep.

He hobbled around the vehicle several times in each direction, testing his strength. When he felt his energy flagging, he opened the cargo compartment and organized their remaining food supplies. Shook out the sleeping bags and rearranged them. Checked the levels in the water bottles and wondered what the odds were of finding a stream. Figuring it was worth a search, he gathered up the water bottles. He’d just closed up the Jeep when he heard the helicopter.

Shit.

This time it sounded as if the chopper was traveling west to east, and at nearly top speed.

Was it Dietrich’s? If so, what was he up to? Had he found the location of the plane? Is that why the helicopter was in such a hurry? Was it on its way to retrieve men to start a new search on the ground? Were he and Emily on the wrong trail?

Or did the helicopter belong to the military? Were they searching for Emily, believing he’d kidnapped her?

He waited until the helicopter passed out of earshot, then headed out to look for water. A few minutes later he found a sluggish stream and filled the water bottles. Thanks to the advanced filtration system, he was able to drink immediately. After refilling his bottle, he carried the bottles back to the Jeep.

He glanced at Emily’s watch. Ugh. Only an hour and a half had passed. Great. At this rate, by the time she returned he’d be a raving lunatic.

Dammit, he should have set a time limit. Told her that unless she returned by a specific time that he’d assume she was in trouble and go looking for her. Not that he was in any shape to run through the jungle on a rescue mission.

He couldn’t even take the Jeep and search for her, because what if she arrived to find him gone?

He rubbed his temples. Okay, what else could he do to occupy his time? Bracing his hand on the Jeep, he decided that a cane would come in handy.

He limped over to a nearby tree and used his knife to shape a thick branch into a workable cane. Then, walking very slowly, he found a banana tree and picked as much fruit as he could carry in the sling of his shirt. The fruit would stretch their current inventory of food.

By the time he got back to the Jeep he was drenched in sweat and shaking with exhaustion. He barely managed to set the fruit in the cargo compartment and crawl inside before he crashed.

He slept for another couple hours and awoke reenergized. He drank some water, ate a few bananas, and took another antibiotic pill. Then he slid out of the cargo compartment and frowned at the sky. The sun was going down. Where the hell was Emily? The Jeep wasn’t that far from the village. She should have had plenty of time to walk there, find her photography spot, and be back by now.

Fear crept up his spine and he paced back and forth along the Jeep, balancing himself with his new cane as he tried not to think about the possibility that Emily might have been caught while he’d been sleeping. He hated to admit it, but he’d slept deeply enough not to notice any cries of triumph if the rebels or villagers had found her. If Dietrich’s men had snatched her, they wouldn’t have made any noise.

Dammit, this wasn’t helping.

Of course, she might be delayed for a less sinister reason. Maybe she’d sprained an ankle or suffered some other injury. Even walking through the jungle now that the light had nearly faded was dangerous, as the evening brought out certain predators. But at least she had the night vision goggles. And basic medical supplies.

He really wanted to search for her, but since he didn’t know what direction she’d be returning from, he was likely to miss her in the growing darkness. Argh. He beat his head lightly against the side of the Jeep. He was stuck here. God, how he hated this.

With one more angry glare at the sky, he leaned on his cane and started walking another circuit around the Jeep, determined to build up his strength and endurance so he wouldn’t have to send Emily out on her own again.

Come on, sweetheart. Come back to me.

IT WAS FULL dark by the time Emily stumbled across the Jeep. She’d been walking so long that she’d begun to wonder if the GPS was mistaken and she’d taken a wrong turn. Or maybe she’d camouflaged the Jeep a little too well. But finally she spotted the mosquito-net-covered vehicle. She was so happy to see it that she almost wept.

The passenger side door opened. “Emily! Thank God.”

She pulled the goggles off as she hurried toward Max. He enveloped her in a tight hug, but the weight of her rucksack threw them off balance and they fell against the front of the Jeep.

As soon as they were balanced again, Max pulled her against him, kissing her with fierce desperation. She dropped the goggles and ran a hand soothingly over his hair and down his back as she gentled the kiss. Then she shoved at his chest. “Let me get the backpack off, Max.”

He grunted, but only gave her enough room to slide free of the straps and drop the pack to the ground before his mouth returned to plunder hers. His body pressed her against the Jeep and his erection pushed against her belly.

Her exhaustion fled as the urgency of his kisses transmitted itself to her. Heat flared, igniting nerve endings that she’d thought numbed for the night. But no. This was what she wanted. What she needed. To feel Max’s body against hers. To touch her tongue to his, drinking in his uniquely addictive flavor. To run her hands over the tight muscles of his back while his hands cradled her head, holding her still as he made love to her mouth.

He made her feel beautiful. Whole.

Her fingers dipped under his shirt, finding bare skin slick with sweat. She kneaded the supple muscles beneath her fingertips and urged him closer. Slid her hands up his back until the rough texture of gauze stopped her cold.

She pulled away. “Max! Your wounds.”

“Don’t. Care. Need you.” He took her mouth in another voracious, possessive kiss.

An unexpected wildness rose up inside her and she met his aggressiveness with a fierce possessiveness of her own. He nipped her lip. She raked him lightly with her nails. He nibbled on her scars. She closed her teeth over his earlobe.

Max’s palm cupped her bare breast. She gasped as lightning shot to her core. Sneaky man. When had he opened her shirt and unfastened her bra?

Giving her a wicked smile, Max lowered his mouth and took her nipple between his lips. He suckled hard, and she grabbed his head, digging her nails into his scalp to keep him in place. “More.”

He worked her breast with his mouth while his fingers lightly pinched and shaped her other breast. When he lifted his head, she whimpered in protest and twisted, trying to get closer to his heat and power. Max silenced her with a kiss. Then his fingers undid the snap on her cargo pants. She shimmied her hips, helping him push her pants and panties down her legs. He lifted her to sit on the hood of the Jeep, then, bracing himself with his hands, he knelt awkwardly between her legs.

“Max! Don’t hurt—”

His mouth touched her most intimate flesh and her protest was drowned by a cry of pleasure. Her head fell back as his tongue and lips teased her, bringing her right up to the edge. “Max, I’m going to come!”

“Good. Do it.” He removed one of his hands from her hips and thrust two fingers inside of her. He curled one finger against the spot that drove her crazy at the same time he lightly clamped down on her clit.

She exploded, the pleasure bursting through her and destroying all the tension of the past couple of days. She forgot who she was. Forgot the danger they were in. All that mattered was the heated pleasure that arched her back and tore a cry from her throat.

Before she’d fully recovered, Max rose to his feet. She heard the faint crinkle of a wrapper, then he thrust inside her. She gasped as her sensitive tissues protested the invasion and Max stilled. Once her body had adjusted, she nodded. He planted one hand next to her on the hood to support his body, then started a steady, gentle rhythm, peppering her face with kisses in between thrusts. His free hand stroked her throat and her breasts. Gradually the pleasure built inside her again. She started matching his thrusts. He increased the tempo and his touches became firmer. Relentless. More demanding.