WAR: Intrusion (22 page)

“All done then?” Lachlan’s cheek brushed against the side of her head. Or maybe it was his mouth.

She nodded and stepped back, surprised to see an answering sadness in his eyes. As their eyes held, she felt a connection form between them. A connection that had nothing to do with the lingering physical attraction between them. No, despite being at loggerheads most of the time, today’s shared danger and sadness had bonded them in some way she didn’t fully understand yet.

At the same time, she recognized that he had more experience dealing with situations like this. “How—” She shook her head, not certain exactly what she needed to hear from him.

“No. It doesn’t get any better,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “Particularly not when women and children are involved. All we can do is move on and see that they receive justice. And I promise you this.” His expression hardened and she shuddered. This must be the face he wore when he killed.

“Sisi and the others
will
receive justice,” Lachlan vowed, his tone promising violent retribution.

Helen glanced at Sisi’s body, then nodded. “Thank you.” It wasn’t enough. Nothing could ever be enough to make up for today’s deaths. But punishing those responsible was a good start.

In fact, if the killers walked past right now, Helen would be tempted to take a machete to them herself.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“
HELEN
.” LACHLAN SHOOK Helen’s shoulder. It was just before dawn and Helen was sleeping on one of the cots inside the clinic’s underground storage room. Kris had called yesterday to report that another storm had developed and lightning strikes near the airfield were preventing Marcus from taking off.

Once they’d finished with the dead, Helen had led Lachlan to the jungle entrance to her escape tunnel and they’d joined Tony in this underground room. While Lachlan updated his teammate, Helen had wrapped a survival blanket around herself, peeled out of her wet, muddy clothes, then fallen fast asleep.

He hated to wake her, but while he’d been on patrol up top just now he’d received a call saying that Marcus was finally on his way.

“What’s wrong?” she asked groggily.

“Nothing, lass. Our ride will be here soon. We need to get out to the airfield.”

“Oh.” She glanced around the room as if reminding herself where she was. When she sat up the silver blanket slipped a bit, revealing the dirt-streaked skin of her shoulder.

Overcome by a wave of unexpected tenderness, Lachlan reached out and gently pulled the blanket back into place. “Do you have a spare set of clothes?”

She nodded. “In the emergency backpack by the door.” She started to get up, but he stopped her. He located the pack and handed it to her, then he and Tony turned their backs while she dressed.

“The door into the clinic is blocked by debris,” Lachlan said. “We’ll have to exit via the tunnel. Sorry, mate.” Tony would never admit it, but crawling through the tunnel with his injured leg was going to hurt.

“Okay. I’m decent,” Helen announced. “You can turn around now.”

He did so, and saw that she’d dressed in a loose blue-green t-shirt of some synthetic material and olive cargo trousers. That tenderness surged back and he wished he could gather her close and chase away the shadows under her eyes and in her soul.

“What about my bungalow?” Helen asked. “Were you over there as well?”

“Aye. It suffered mostly fire and bullet damage. The walls and roof are intact. Although, the rebels did take most of your furniture.”

“If there’s no debris on the floor in the bedroom, then we can exit that way. I’d…” She glanced down and pretended to be absorbed by the act of pulling on clean socks. “I’d like to see if there are any personal items worth salvaging. That’s if we can spare the time.” She shoved her feet into her boots. Flakes of mud fell to the floor and Helen brushed them aside without meeting Lachlan’s eyes.

Lachlan looked over at Tony and saw the same sympathy reflected on his teammate’s face. Tony nodded at Lachlan.

“Aye. We have the time, lass.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

With Lachlan leading the way, they entered the tunnel. The trip to the room under Helen’s bungalow took longer with the three of them than it had for Lachlan to reach the jungle exit an hour ago when he’d headed out on patrol. He kept the pace slow to allow Tony to keep up. Even Helen’s movements were a wee bit stiff today.

But eventually they reached her bungalow and soon after were standing in the center of her soot-stained bedroom. Knowing from the pinched expression on her face that Helen probably wanted a good cry, he said, “We’ll…ah…be in the courtyard, lass. Call out if you need us.” Tony was already at the front door, leaning on just one crutch, having insisted he was doing better today. From his position to the rear, Lachlan took the opportunity to study his mate’s back. He didn’t see any fresh blood on Tony’s shirt or trousers. Excellent. Still, Lachlan had tied the second crutch to his rucksack, in case the long walk to the airfield along the muddy road did Tony in and he needed the extra support.

Tony maneuvered the one step into the courtyard with ease, then the two of them discussed their plans until Helen joined them a few minutes later. She held a couple of sooty statues in her arms and a partially burnt leather medallion on a braided cord dangled from her fist. When she spotted the the pile of charred clothes and personal items that had been placed on a bonfire in the middle of the courtyard, she dropped the items she carried and dashed across to the bathroom. The door had burned away, so as she fell to her knees beside the toilet, he and Tony walked to the far end of the courtyard to give her privacy.

“The doctor has been through a lot, these past days,” Tony murmured.

“Aye. But she’s a strong one. She held it together until she found the child. Sisi.” It hurt to say the girl’s name, but she deserved to be recognized. There was no one left from her village to do it.

Remembering how trusting Sisi had been as he’d carried her into the clinic, and how the little boy whose name he didn’t know had thanked him for taking care of the festival day attackers, Lachlan’s hard-won battle calm threatened to break. Using techniques honed from when he’d been a terrified, hurt little boy, he once again fought to bury his emotions so deep, no one would find them.

On the other side of the courtyard, Helen cursed loudly. When Lachlan turned around to see what had upset her, he found her staring at the dry faucet in the open air washing space. “The rebels either turned off or broke the water main.”

“Here.” Lachlan held out his water bottle so she could rinse out her mouth.

“Thanks.” She put her back to him while she rinsed and spit, then returned the bottle to him. After a moment’s hesitation, she squared her shoulders and faced the burnt pile of clothing, books, and mementos. Her chest rose on a sharp inhale before she marched over to the pile and toed through the ashes and scorched remains of her belongings.

With a sad twist of her lips, she bent down and picked up a plastic bottle that was only slightly melted. She added it to the items she’d brought from inside and gathered them all against her chest. “Okay. I’m ready to leave.” She glanced down at the items in her arms. “It’s hard to believe that of all the possessions I’ve carried with me from post to post since I left medical school, all I’m left with are a few statues, three quarters of a necklace, and a bottle of shampoo.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Kirk,” Tony said.

“Aye, I’m also sorry for your loss, lass.” Lachlan pretended not to notice the sheen of tears in her eyes, but he wished he had a way with words as Dev did because he desperately wanted to ease her pain.

She gave them a wan smile. “Well, new beginnings and all that. Isn’t that what they say?” She took one last, long mournful look around the courtyard, then strode away.

Lachlan wondered how he had ever believed this woman could be involved with the rebels. Even though the evidence had seemed convincing, if he could travel back in time, he’d warn himself to be fair with her. Not that treating Helen better would have changed today’s outcome, but he regretted adding to the emotional turmoil she’d endured since his arrival.

Still, if he and Tony hadn’t shown up, Helen would be dead. David’s prisoner had confessed that Helen had been one of the primary targets on the festival day. The prisoner had been disappointed that she hadn’t been shot along with Kwesi and had been thrilled when Natchaba ordered him to blow up her clinic in addition to the villages.

“I’m looking forward to finding Natchaba and making him pay for this,” Tony commented as he hobbled after Helen.

“Aye. I couldn’t agree more,” Lachlan said as they reached the road where Helen was already marching toward the airfield.

Forty-five minutes later, they’d left the shade of the jungle behind. The sun beat down relentlessly, sapping their energy as they trudged between fields of shoulder-high maize. Noticing that Tony was struggling, Lachlan offered him the second crutch.

“Are you certain you don’t want to stop and rest?” Helen asked. “I could check your wounds again.”

Tony glared at her and snatched the crutch out of Lachlan’s hand. “I’m fine,” he snapped, his tone daring them to comment on the clear signs he was in pain and at the end of his reserves. “It’s best if we keep moving.”

Helen glanced at Lachlan and bit her lip. He shrugged. It was pointless to try and force Tony to admit to what he’d see as weakness.

“What about you?” Helen demanded when Tony had used the crutches to move out of earshot. “Are you going to be similarly pigheaded and deny you’re in pain? I am a doctor, don’t forget. I’m trained to recognize the signs of pain.”

Lachlan shrugged. “We’re trained to ignore the discomforts of our bodies until after our mission is complete. Otherwise, we’d never accomplish anything. I promise I’ll let you fuss over me once we’re safe.” Now why the hell had those words popped out of his mouth?

Helen blinked in surprise.

Despite everything that had happened, or maybe because of it, he suddenly wanted to kiss her. Wanted to feel her soft mouth under his more than he wanted his next sip of life-preserving water. He leaned forward.

Helen’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. Lachlan’s pulse leapt, remembering the taste of her.

“Hurry it up, will you?” Tony called back to them.

Helen shook her head as if throwing off water, then turned away and hurried to catch up with Tony.

Lachlan stared after her. The lass had him completely turned around. Not only could he not anticipate her behavior, but he couldn’t reliably predict his own reactions to her. What had he been thinking, trying to kiss her when they weren’t completely out of danger?

Had the sun fried his brains?

Aye. That must be it.

He glanced toward the horizon, hearing a faint mechanical humming. Helen turned to him, eyes wide with fear. “Is that another rebel helicopter?” She glanced frantically around. “There’s no place to hide.”

Lachlan’s phone vibrated.

Approaching airfield. Don’t see you
, read the text.
Where you at?

Lachlan shook his head. Levine, Use-My-First-Name-And-You-Die—must be co-piloting, because anyone besides the laconic New Yorker would have attempted to replicate Marcus’s Texas twang just for the fun of it.

Still on foot from clinic,
Lachlan texted back.

“Lachlan, we have to hide,” Helen insisted.

“No. That’s our ride.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, jerking his chin toward the helicopter approaching across the field. “That’s Marcus all right. Anyone else would wait for us at the airfield.”

Road dry enough to land?
Levine texted
.

How the bloody hell should I know?
Lachlan replied.
I’m no pilot. We’re not sinking in mud. Most places are fairly dry.

‘Kay. Marcus says to hang tight and prepare to be amazed.

Lachlan rolled his eyes. “We’re going to wait here while Mr. Show-off impresses us with his flying prowess.”

Helen gave him a funny look.

As they watched the helicopter slow on its approach, Tony explained to Helen, “Marcus Jones is one of the best pilots in the special ops world. But he’s got an ego—”

“No lad, it’s a
personality.
You know how he hates the term ego.”

“Right. Forgot. He’s got a
personality
as great as his home state of Texas.”

“What Tony means is that Marcus never passes up an opportunity to show off, and he expects us all to be suitably impressed.”

“So, do I need to applaud when he lands?” Helen asked, giving a thoughtful look to the Blackhawk that now hovered over the road as it prepared to make its final descent.

Tony chuckled. “Definitely clap. The expression on his face will be worth it.”

Helen raised her brows. “Why? I thought you said he likes praise.”

“Aye, but only as an inside joke among the team, lass. He’s actually quite modest with outsiders.”

“So—?”

Lachlan met Tony’s eyes and grinned. “I agree with Tony. A bit of overly enthusiastic clapping will embarrass the hell out of him.” And they could all use a bit of playfulness to counteract the horrors of the past few days.

They all stopped to watch as Marcus executed one of his trademark perfect landings. Helen played her part well. Although the noise from the rotors drowned out the sound, she held her hands up almost at face level and clapped with an exaggerated motion as she walked toward the helicopter.

Dev and Obi gave her befuddled looks from the bay door. Then Dev held out his hand and assisted her into the helicopter, while Obi and JC ignored Tony’s protests and carried him through the door. The team’s medic, Lance, directed them to place Tony at the back of the cargo space and began examining Tony’s leg.

Lachlan entered in time to watch as Helen walked forward and clapped Marcus on the shoulder. “Beautifully executed, sir!” she enthused loudly enough to be heard over the noise. She might even have batted her eyelashes, but the angle was off so Lachlan wasn’t certain.