WAR: Intrusion (35 page)

She raised her chin. “Yes.”

HALF
AN HOUR later, Lachlan slammed the refrigerator door shut. Helen’s words had hurt him more than he’d expected. When he’d woken up this morning he’d felt lighter in spirit. The shame of his childhood had been a greater weight than he’d realized. Sharing it the way he had, so that everyone on the team understood the forces that had shaped him, had broken through some sort of final barrier between himself and his mates. He was no longer worried that one of them would ask an awkward question, or that a situation would arise in which he’d react poorly due to his past.

But Helen had ruined his newfound peace.

She’d overheard his confession that he’d been abused, then dared to compare what had been done to him to what he’d done to David’s prisoner. Did she really see him as a man who cared nothing about other people? He’d thought he’d shown her differently. After all, hadn’t he changed his attitude toward her?

Right. Fat lot of good that had done. She still automatically believed the worst of him.

Having distance between them was for the best. He needed to stop thinking about the bloody woman and keep his focus on his mission.

He set his plate on the table. Despite their argument, he still wished Helen were here to share the meal with him. But Hoss and Lance had already accompanied her to the hospital.

Someone knocked on the back door.

“Sorry to interrupt, Commander,” Dev said when Lachlan let him in.

“What’s up?” Lachlan asked, sitting back down and motioning for Dev to join him. Dev shook his head.

“One of Obi’s contacts thinks he spotted Natchaba having dinner last evening in a cafe just over the border in the Republic of Dahomey,” Dev said.

“And he’s only telling us now?”

Dev shrugged. “The man lives in a fairly remote region. Yesterday he made his weekly trip into the nearest town for supplies, which is where he spotted Natchaba. But he didn’t see the sketch and the request for information on his whereabouts until he read this morning’s paper while waiting for the bus back to his village.”

“Ah.” The governments of the region had all decided to run pieces in their local newspapers regarding the manhunt for Natchaba. “Okay, bring the lads over. We’ll work out a plan of action.”

Dev nodded, but before he reached the back door, Lachlan’s sat phone rang.

“It’s Kris,” Lachlan said after reading the caller ID.

“I’m thinking that you have ESP,” Lachlan said as he answered, switching the call to speakerphone. “Dev was just updating me on a possible spotting of Natchaba.”

“Excellent. Because I’m calling with bad news. We just learned that another shipment of miniaturized explosives has gone missing in the region of the Black Sea. Original reports suggested that the weapons had been funneled to Russian separatists in the Ukraine, but new information suggests they might actually have been purchased by Morenga.”

Lachlan cursed. “Given the current threats facing Morenga’s organization, it’s possible that Natchaba will get access to them instead.”

“Yeah,” Kris said. “Since Natchaba used Seth Jarrod to ferry the MP3 players into the country, Marcus has sent out additional messages through his aviator network trying to find Jarrod.”

“Levine has done the same,” Dev said.

“Good. Tell me more about this tip on Natchaba,” Kris demanded.

Dev repeated what he’d told Lachlan. “I’ve sent Obi and JC to nose around, but it will take them several hours to reach the area.” He glanced at Lachlan. “Uh… I haven’t notified the authorities yet.”

Lachlan nodded his approval, even as Kris said, “That’s fine. No use sending them on a potential wild goose chase.” Per WAR’s policy, if Obi and JC did spot Natchaba, Lachlan’s team would move in for the capture and then anonymously dump the man on the police. Assuming that the local police didn’t also receive word of Natchaba’s possible location and grab him before WAR did.

“On an entirely different note,” Kris continued, “Azumah’s contacts within the Voltan government say that the president wants to issue medals of courage to the survivors of the festival day attack, Dr. Kirk, and the founder of Layla’s Foundation. And he wants this ceremony to take place at the ruins of the festival day as a symbol of his country’s refusal to give in to fear.”

“Why? That’s as dangerous as waving a flag in front of a bull,” Dev said, shooting Lachlan a glance of disbelief.

“He wants to use them as bait, doesn’t he?” Lachlan asked. He’d spirit Helen away to the Hebrides before he allowed her to be put in such danger. “Didn’t he learn any lessons from that attack?”

“I hear you,” Kris said. “Azumah told the president directly that it was a terrible idea. But the president is empowered by the fact that his forces prevented the latest attacker from getting inside the hospital. He believes that in order to prevent the population from panicking, he has to make a show of being unafraid. I doubt, though, that he’ll go so far as to force anyone to participate.”

“He’d better not try it,” Lachlan growled. “You and I both know there’s no airtight security at a public event. Helen and the surviving villagers deserve better than to have their lives put at risk on the slim chance that such a trap will result in actionable intelligence. So far none of Natchaba’s men who’ve been captured have offered critical information. Besides, the survivors of the attacks are still recovering both physically and emotionally. It’s cruel to suggest that they be paraded around the location where they were injured and their loved ones killed.”

“Why Lachlan,” Kris said. “It sounds as if you care. Are you going soft on me?”

Lachlan told Kris very specifically what he could do with his teasing, which only made both Kris and Dev laugh.

“Even if the president decides to go ahead with his plan,” Kris said, “it will take him several days to set up the event. But…” Kris cleared his throat. “In the meantime, the president has told Azumah that none of WAR’s white soldiers will be allowed to accompany Dr. Kirk into the hospital. He doesn’t want his citizens thinking that their government isn’t strong enough to protect one woman. Guards from the police and army will be stationed discretely on every floor.”

Lachlan flicked a glance at Dev. “Dr. Kirk, Lance, and Hoss are already at the hospital. We haven’t heard of any issue with them being allowed access.”

“Then I’d suggest they not try to leave,” Kris said. “They might not be allowed back inside.”

“Right. I’ll speak to Dr. Kirk. She has a meeting away from the hospital in a couple of hours with the head of Layla’s Foundation. I’ll notify Dr. Kirk that she won’t be working at the hospital unless members of my team are with her.” Aside from Obi, all the other African members of WAR’s military teams were on assignments too critical, and too far away, to be worth pulling them in for guard duty. Since Obi and JC likely wouldn’t return until late tonight or early tomorrow, Lachlan would have to find a way to stop Helen from reporting to the hospital. Maybe the meeting with her boss would prove to be a godsend by keeping Helen occupied.

“Right. Keep me informed.” Kris ended the call.

Lachlan rubbed the back of his neck.

“Good luck getting Dr. Kirk to stay away from the hospital,” Dev said. He clapped Lachlan on the shoulder, then let himself out the back door.

Dev proved to be correct. Four hours later, Hoss called Lachlan.

“Boss, you might want to get over to the hospital. We explained to Dr. Kirk about the new restrictions the president has put into place, but she’s saying we can’t stop her from going inside.”

“I just want to check on my patients before I leave for my new job,” Helen said. Her voice was clear, as if she’d leaned close to Hoss in order for the phone’s microphone to pick up her voice.

Lachlan felt a spurt of jealousy at the thought of their two heads nestled together. “What new job?” he demanded. “No. That can wait. Tell Helen she’s not going inside that hospital unless the two of you are with her.” He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “It’s not safe. Sit on her if you have to, but keep her with you until I get there.”

“Roger that.”

Lachlan broke the speed limit getting to the hospital.

When he pulled into the car park he saw Helen arguing with Lance while Hoss blocked the hospital’s front door. There were no signs of the government’s guards.

Helen rounded on Lachlan the moment she spotted him. “You have no right to order them to keep me out! I’m only trying to do my job.”

“As I’m trying to do mine. Right now, that’s to protect you, whether you wish it or not.”

She sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Lachlan, have a heart. It won’t take long to check on my patients. Fifteen, twenty minutes top and I’ll be back out. Surely that’s not enough time for the rebels to put together an attack.”

Lachlan shook his head. “What if Natchaba has men inside just waiting for your return? What if some of those men are on the government’s payroll?” He took her arm. “Do you want to risk innocent bystanders being hurt in an attack meant to kill you?”

“That’s playing dirty,” she muttered.

“Take it up with the rebels,” Lachlan shot back.

With a frustrated sigh and a longing glance back at the hospital, Helen allowed Lachlan to escort her to the SUV.

For several minutes Lachlan concentrated on his driving, turning randomly onto streets in order to confuse anyone attempting to follow them, while Hoss and Lance in their own vehicle also checked for unfriendly watchers.

When he felt confident they hadn’t been followed, Lachlan asked, “What is this about a new job?”

“Yes. I’m so excited. A position has come up at a hospital I used to work at along the border between Volta and the United African Republic,” Helen said.

Lachlan tensed. The UAR had recently experienced attacks from a particularly violent group of rebels.

Oblivious to his concern, Helen blithely continued, “Their head trauma surgeon, a local man, just quit. His mother is ill and he’s returning home to care for her. The administrators heard about the destruction of my clinic and asked Layla’s Foundation if I’d be willing to resume my old post until they locate a West African trauma surgeon willing to take over. They have a fantastic surgical team consisting of both foreigners and local staff. I can’t wait to work with them again.” She paused, then added hastily, “I agreed to head out there tonight.”

“What? Are you daft? It’s not safe.” Lachlan risked taking his eyes off the road a moment to glare at her.

“Lachlan, they’re not far from one of the areas where the rebels have been staging constant attacks against the local population. Their case load is already heavy. The sooner I start work, the fewer people who will die.”

“That just proves that the situation is too dangerous for you. Have you forgotten that Natchaba wants to kill you? Let Layla’s Foundation assign another bloody surgeon.” Fear sharpened his voice and cold dread constricted his lungs. He couldn’t lose her.

Helen crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop being paranoid. How would Natchaba find out where I’ve gone? Only Mrs. N’Dorah, the hospital’s administrator, and now you are aware of my plans. Once I’m there I’ll be perfectly safe. They recently hired a private security company.”

As if he’d trust anyone else to keep her safe. “Who?” he demanded.

She gave him an exasperated look. “How should I know? It’s been three years since I worked there. At the time, the rebels weren’t close enough to be a threat, so we didn’t have guards. We just took care of the wounded that were trucked in from locations that didn’t have adequate medical facilities. The administrator would be able to tell you which firm they hired and how long they’ve been on site.”

“You’re not going.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“Oh really? You’ve got no say in this, MacKay. No matter how strong our physical connection, we’re from two different worlds. There’s nothing more between us. Or didn’t you understand when I told you to get out of my life?”

“Bollocks.” She’d stumbled over the phrase “physical connection,” giving the lie to her words. He wasn’t alone in this. She’d felt the deeper connection same as he had, no matter what she’d said earlier. “You’re running away because you’re scared of staying and facing what’s between us.”

“You’re wrong. I want to work at this hospital. They need me. You have no right to try and stop me,” she said fiercely. “Yes, there’s a slight security risk, but it’s one I’m willing to take.” Twisting in her seat as far as the safety belt allowed, she turned her back to him.

“This conversation is far from over,” he muttered in Gaelic. No matter that she was mad at him or insisted they could have no future together. There was no way in hell he was letting Helen go off to work near a war zone without him.

HELEN
GLARED OUT the passenger window of the SUV, too mad to pay any attention to the buildings flashing by. Lachlan was wrong. She wasn’t running away from him by taking this job. They didn’t have a relationship. Working at the hospital would allow her to continue saving lives. Passing that up to stay with Lachlan would be selfish.

Yet at the same time, she had no desire to walk into a situation that might be vulnerable to attack. So, while a grim faced Lachlan drove a complicated route back to the safe house, Helen used the new cell phone Mrs. N’Dorah had provided her with to call the administrator of the hospital and request information on their security team. The woman’s assistant promised to look into the matter and call or text Helen back as soon as possible. Helen and the assistant talked logistics until Lachlan parked the SUV behind the safe house.

“How are you expecting to reach this hospital?” Lachlan demanded once they were inside with the doors locked.

“Mrs. N’Dorah is going to take me up there. Her driver doubles as her bodyguard and she said that she wants to refresh her files on the facility.” Helen bit her lip and glanced down. “Performing spot checks of the facilities was part of Gloria’s job,” she murmured. Feeling guilty that she wasn’t more saddened by Gloria’s death, Helen glanced at the clock. “We agreed that she’ll pick me up in an hour. We’ll drive for six or seven hours, then spend the night at the house of one of Mrs. N’Dorah’s friends. We should arrive at the hospital sometime late tomorrow morning.”