WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) (36 page)

Okay, yeah, that hadn’t been the most suave declaration. “It’s true. Because I love you, I refuse to let you put yourself in danger. Once I saw your face on the billboard, I knew the rebels would wait for you at the concert. Your brother’s report confirmed that I was right.”

“You’ve been steering us in the wrong direction that long?” She shot him a look. “It wasn’t an accident that you knocked my hand so that the map blew away, was it?”

“No.”

“You bastard! What right do you have to make such a decision for me?”

There was the anger, the vibrating fury he’d been expecting.

“Haven’t you learned anything about me?” she fumed. “I’m not stupid. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions. I told you before my reasons for not abandoning the concert.”

“Do you honestly think that the concert is still going ahead? As long as the rebels have blocked the access roads, no one is getting in or out.”

“Gee, no, I’m obviously too stupid to realize that. But did you think that maybe I’d rather take my chances with the other participants than be treated as a special snowflake and spirited away to safety?”

“Kirra, be reasonable. Your life is at risk.”

“
Ja
, and you know what? That’s my prerogative. I thought you knew me better than to suggest I play it safe. Instead, you’re treating me like a child. Just like Dev does.”

The hurt he heard underneath her fury clawed at his heart, but it was for the best. “Kirra—”

“No. Forget it.” She tossed his phone onto the console. “If you call that love, then I want nothing to do with it.”

His vision wavered and for a moment he couldn’t see the road. Then he shook his head and wrestled his emotions under control. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but realized that if it turned out her brother couldn’t help him, having her mad at him would ease the sting of separation.

Instead, he let the angry silence build. Then the phone rang again. Seth glanced at the display. “It’s your brother.” He pressed a button. “You’re on speakerphone,” he warned Dev.

“Ah. All right. I just received an update. The rebels have taken the larger town and have attacked the concert city.”

“No!” Kirra cried. “Is everyone okay?”

Seth’s back stiffened. “What the fuck? I thought the security team was supposed to be top-notch.” He glanced at Kirra, who nodded.

“They suspect that a member of the technical crew or one of the vendors betrayed them,” Dev said. “The leader of the security team managed to get a report out before their comm system went down. He described a three-pronged attack. Rebels assaulted the security checkpoint guarding the back access road. The bulk of the security force is holding the rebels at bay there. An explosion took out the administration and security trailer while a meeting was in progress, killing or critically wounding everyone inside. The third wave of rebels took over the bridges.”

“Shit.”

“There are over a dozen dead and two dozen wounded, including both security guards and civilians. The surviving security guards herded the civilians into the restricted area, which was designed to withstand an attack. They can defend the space against a siege, but they don’t have the manpower to stop the rebels from taking over the rest of the venue.”

“The concert was supposed to start at eight tomorrow,” Kirra said. “The gates would have opened at seven. Has a message gone out to warn participants and attendees to stay away?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, God. What about Miriam Tchaco? Is she already there?”

“I don’t know,” Dev said. “But that’s not the worst of the news. First, we’ve got troops from all the major rebel factions involved here.”

“I’m surprised they stopped fighting amongst themselves long enough to coordinate an attack,” Seth muttered.

“I know, right? Second, the rebels claim they have additional explosives planted inside the concert city and are threatening to blow up the entire place if Kirra doesn’t surrender herself and the diamonds to Bureh’s men by noon tomorrow.”

Kirra gasped. “Why do they want me?”

“Just speculating here, but by taking the diamonds out from underneath their noses, you made them look bad. They need to make an example of you to discourage anyone from trying that in the future.”

“Ballsy of them,” Seth said, “since the diamonds didn’t belong to Bureh in the first place.”

There was a heavy silence. “That’s what I’d heard. I find it interesting that you know about it.”

“The…uh…rightful owner wants me to turn the diamonds over tomorrow or he’s going to have his men take them from me by force.”

Dev swore in Afrikaans. Kirra narrowed her eyes at Seth.

“He’s not the rightful owner, either,” Dev said. “Which is why you need to give me the diamonds when I arrive.”

Not bloody likely. Not unless Dev promised he could arrange protection for Seth’s family. Otherwise, the diamonds were too important a bargaining chip. “Where’s the government in all this?”

“The rebels have warned that if they see anyone from the government approaching their positions, they’ll set off the explosives. In fact, if they feel threatened in any way, they’ll blow the place up.”

“I’m surprised they’ve left anyone alive,” Seth said.

“Oddly enough, I think we have Bureh to thank for that. I’m pretty certain he’s holding off on killing everyone so that he has leverage against Kirra. Then, no matter what Kirra does, he’ll kill everyone in a show of strength. With the media already in place, the coverage will consolidate his hard-core reputation.”

Kirra bit her lip.

“The government is sending forces in, but they’re moving carefully in order not to tip the rebels off,” Dev said. “Which means no helicopters. Plus, the government forces have to avoid the roadblocks the rebels have set up.”

“So it will be a while before they arrive.”

“
Ja
. Be extra careful while driving to the safe house, then barricade yourselves inside. I’ll be there as fast as possible.” He disconnected.

“So,” Kirra said icily. “In addition to planning on having the assassin kill you, you also worked out a deal to hand over the diamonds to someone? You’ve been busy.”

“Damn straight. Once I give Morenga’s guy the diamonds, the other rebels won’t have any use for you. Instead, they’ll go after Morenga’s guy. That’s if they have time before the government’s troops arrive and they’re forced into a fight. Bureh will be too busy worrying about saving face against the government to order his men to track you down and make an example of you. By the time he remembers what he’d intended, you’ll be long gone. Safe.”

“Safe? Maybe I don’t want to be safe. Maybe I want to help work out a deal that will free the people trapped inside the concert city. Maybe I want you to treat me like a partner, instead of a liability.”

“You are a liability.”

She sucked in a breath. “Oh, really? Who got you out from underneath that tree? Who—”

“Your intelligence and thieving skills don’t mean jack against platoons of armed men. I can’t afford to be distracted by the need to protect you.”

“I can protect myself.”

“No. You can’t. You have no part in this. Once your brother arrives, you’re done.” Self-disgust hit him as Kirra winced.

“I thought you loved me,” she accused.

Admitting that had been a mistake. “I want you safe.”

The hurt in Kirra’s eyes ate at him, and his voice took on an extra bite as he added, “What you
can
do is help me find the safe house.”

Her lips tightened. For a moment Seth wasn’t sure if she was going to cry or punch him. Then she shook her head, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned to stare out the side window. After a long silence, she picked up his phone. “The road we’re looking for should be up ahead on your right,” she muttered.

The pavement of the road they turned on to was lousy with cracks and potholes. The closer they drew to town, the more cars they saw on the road. Women walking along the side of the road balanced bags and suitcases on their heads, while children darted between the various clusters of adults, laughing and screaming in some game only the children understood.

Seth’s heart ached. He wished he’d had time to get to know his niece, Brianna. He wished he could have played silly games with her and hated that the most recent photos he’d seen of her had been provided by his blackmailer.

Uneasy with the increased number of people, Seth kept his attention rotating between his mirrors and the road, scanning for threats. The presence of so many potential rebel spies made him nervous. Worse, each civilian represented a potential victim should the rebels decide that a mass killing would better serve their purpose.

“Why haven’t the rebels set up a checkpoint here?” Kirra asked as the road wound through open fields dotted with tents.

“It’s too far away to be manageable.” He nodded at the road, which was barely wide enough to allow two cars to pass one another. “At night, the cover provided by the knee-high grass and by the trees in the forest will allow people to sneak past anyone stationed on the road. The rebels will concentrate their efforts on blocking the roads closest to the concert. That way there will be fewer points of entry they have to guard.”

“Better for us.” Kirra shifted in her seat.

The silence built until the weight of it threatened to suffocate him. But this time he was determined to keep the distance between them.

Seth breathed a sigh of relief when Dev’s instructions finally led them off the main road. After five minutes of bumping along narrow, unpaved lanes, they pulled up at the gate of the safe house. Seth nodded approvingly at the security spikes along the top of the wall, then entered the code into the solar-powered keypad. The gates rolled open.

Once Seth had parked inside the garage and the door had closed behind him, more of the tension he’d been carrying eased.

While Kirra waited in the garage, he performed a fast walk-through of the premises. The house didn’t have an alarm system, but all the windows had security bars. The wall and the security bars wouldn’t withstand a concentrated attack, but they would provide enough of a delay to save their lives.

Satisfied, Seth returned to Kirra.

“Why don’t you wash up first?” he told her once they’d unloaded their gear. Dev had been correct and the two-bedroom house had both running water and electricity. Even better, the bathing facilities were included in the main house instead of in a separate building. Otherwise, he would have had to stand guard while she bathed. And he didn’t think his resolve would hold if he had to stand just a door’s width away from her naked body.

She nodded, grabbed her things, and closed the door of the bathing room behind her.

All right. She was still miffed at him. He’d expected that.

After dumping his pack in one of the bedrooms, Seth set up his usual low-tech alarms. He’d just finished putting the last one in place when his phone rang.

He strode down to the table in the sitting room where he’d left it charging and frowned at the blocked number. “Hughes,” he answered cautiously.

“You have until eight tomorrow morning to turn the woman and the diamonds over to Bureh’s men at the concert,” his blackmailer said. “Or your niece dies.”

S
eth shoved back
his panic and rage. Through sheer force of will he found that calm, icy place in the center of him that allowed him to deal with his blackmailer. “What makes you think I have either the woman or the diamonds?”

“It will be most unfortunate for your niece if you are unable to comply with my request,” his blackmailer said. “My man is most anxious to take action. Proof will arrive momentarily. Remember. By eight, or the child dies.” The man disconnected.

Seth swore in every language he knew. A moment later, his phone showed a new text message.

It contained a photo of his niece at an outdoor playground—as seen through the scope of a rifle.

Seth tossed the phone on the couch and paced away. He’d seen the fuzzy shapes of other children and their parents around the edges of the photo. If he failed to obey, then what was to stop the hit man from killing everyone on the playground?

Yet how could he—

Behind him, Kirra gasped.

He spun around and saw that she’d picked up his phone. Hair still wet from her shower, she stared in horror at the picture of his niece. “That was your blackmailer?”

No point in lying to her now. “Yes.”

She met his eyes. “He wants me and the diamonds. Did I hear that correctly?”

He paused. “Yes.”

She nodded. “Fine. Since everyone wants me, once Dev gets here, we’ll work out a plan to use me and the diamonds as a distraction. Then the two of you can rescue the people trapped inside the concert.”

His body felt frozen, but underneath, his fear and rage had turned molten. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not risking your life. There has to be—”

Kirra raised a brow. “There has to be another way? Sound familiar?”

He swore again. Even if he knew where to find the assassin, and could get the man to kill him tonight, he didn’t think that would save his niece. For some reason, his blackmailer wanted to appease Bureh. And there was no way Bureh would be satisfied with only Seth’s death.

Yet the thought of losing Kirra made him see red.

“Even if the two of you can’t rescue the people trapped in the concert,” Kirra continued, “having me surrender will stall for time.” She raised her chin. “I’m tough, and I’m trained in escape tactics.”

“That won’t do you any good if you’re dead!”

“Yes, I realize they might kill me. But this Bureh fellow wants to make an example out of me, right? That indicates he’d prefer to stage some dramatic punishment in front of the media.”

She shrugged. “I have to risk it. It’s not just the life of your niece that’s at stake. It’s everyone inside the concert, as well. I don’t have a choice. There’s no way I could live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to save them all.”

He stared into her eyes and knew she was right. God dammit, he’d seen photos from the Hospital Massacre. He could no more leave those people at the concert in the hands of the rebels than Kirra could.

An image flashed into his mind of Kirra’s body hacked apart like the Hospital Massacre victims. A cry of protest rose in his throat. Rage rattled the lid he had on his emotions, shoving it ajar. Threatening to let everything out.

He spun away so Kirra wouldn’t see him struggling for control.

His gaze landed on his phone. No matter what he did next, someone he cared about would be at risk of dying. He couldn’t lose another person he cared about. He…couldn’t. Even if Kirra surrendered, his niece still might end up with a bullet through her skull. Or the blackmailer might target his sister. Then his mother. It would never stop. Until everyone he loved was dead.

Acid tore through his stomach. His grand plan—that the assassin would kill him and remove the threat from his family—couldn’t happen fast enough to save both Kirra and his niece.

His shoulders tightened. The need to fight back became a physical presence clawing at the inside of his skin. He stalked across the room.
Stay calm. Don’t scare Kirra by losing it. Don’t risk hurting her. Hold it together.

But he couldn’t escape the bare truth. He remained as trapped as ever. Powerless to protect the ones he loved. Doomed to watch them die.

“No!”

An inferno twisted through him like a tornado, blowing off the lid imprisoning his emotions. Everything he’d been holding back for three years—the rage and the grief; the guilt and the fear; the sheer hopelessness and the soul-numbing despair—erupted with volcanic force. His vision tunneled.

“I won’t let you die!” He grabbed the lamp and swung it against the wall. The shade crumpled and the bulb shattered.

“I won’t let my niece die!” He swung the lamp at the wall a second time. The neck split in two with a satisfying crunch.

He dropped the broken lamp to the floor, picked up the closest chair and smashed it into the opposite wall. When it didn’t break, he slammed it into the wall again. And again. Each blow reverberated up his arms, causing the joints to ache, but he kept swinging.

“Damn you, General Sandberg!” He pictured the general’s face as he hammered the chair into the wall.

“Damn my blackmailer!” He imagined destroying the shadowy figure at the other end of his blackmailer’s calls and put even more force into his blows.

One of the chair’s legs fell off and plummeted to the floor. Seth tossed the rest of the chair across the room.

“It’s not fair that Michael died!” He lifted the other chair over his head. The cushions flew off as he hurled it onto the floor. One of the arms splintered off.

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one who survived!” He kicked the coffee table over, then lifted the end of the sofa and heaved it up until the thing tipped over.

“How am I supposed to live with myself knowing I’ve caused so many deaths?” He spun around and reached out blindly for another projectile. His fingers closed around the vase of flowers on the windowsill. He flung it at the wall.

“If anyone’s going to die it ought to be me,” he howled. “Not you. Not my niece. Me!”

At the sight of the water chasing the broken pieces of ceramic down the wall, the rage drained out of him. The room spun. He sank to his knees, whispering, “I’m the one who deserves to die.”

“Shh.” Kirra’s arms enveloped him. “Don’t say that.”

Seth flinched. “Oh, God. Did I hurt you?” He turned to face her. He expected to see disgust, maybe even fear on her face. By all rights she should be running the other way, finally seeing the truth he’d been trying to drill home. He wasn’t worthy of her love. But what he saw on her face made his throat close up.

Love. Acceptance. Understanding.

“Shh, I’m fine.” She stroked his hair.

He scanned her body for signs that she was lying and hiding an injury, but he didn’t see any new wounds. His shoulders sagged in relief. Yet shame crept up his throat and heated his cheeks. He’d completely lost control. “Aren’t you scared of me?”

“No. Of course not. It was obvious a while ago that you were struggling to hold all this back. I knew it had to come out sometime.”

“But—” He glanced around the room, saw the overturned and ruined furniture, and winced. “I went on a rampage. How do you know the next time I won’t hurt someone?”

“Because you didn’t throw anything in my direction. Even in the middle of your rage you made certain not to hurt me.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t deliberate. I wasn’t thinking about protecting you, only about venting my rage.”

“That’s because your need to keep me safe is at a subconscious level. It’s part of your basic character. You’re a good man at heart, Seth.” She kissed his brow. “That’s why you can’t give up. We’re going to find a way out of this so that no one dies, okay?”

Weak as a newborn now that his rage no longer fueled him, he closed his eyes and sank into her embrace. His arms swept around her and pulled her tightly against him. He needed her faith and her warmth more than she’d ever realize. She was his only ray of hope.

“Your niece is safe until the deadline, right?”

“Probably.”

“Good. So we have time to work out a plan. It’s time to be the hero your niece needs you to be. To be the strong, honorable man I know. Fight for a solution in which all of us win and your blackmailer loses his hold on you.”

“How do you do it?” he murmured. “How do you keep your optimism that life will turn out okay? After all you’ve been through, how come you’re not bitter and cynical? Because every time I’ve tried to fight back, every time I’ve tried to do the right thing, it’s backfired and people have died.”

Kirra was silent for a long while before she said, “I wish I had some sage advice to give you, Seth. But I don’t.” She patted his back. “I told you that I died on the way to hospital and again on the operating table. What I didn’t tell you is that when I woke up and realized that I was all alone, without a supportive family, without Kyle, without even the dubious companionship of Franz, I pulled out all of my tubes.”

He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, offering belated comfort. “I wish I had been there.”

“The nurses came rushing in as soon as they heard the alarms, but I was fragile enough that the loss of support temporarily threw me into cardiac arrest.”

Seth felt her body expand as she inhaled deeply.

“Neither of my previous deaths resulted in any of those light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel experiences people talk about. But that last time I wanted to die. I looked forward to the peace.” She choked back a sob. “But I heard Kyle yelling at me. Telling me that if I gave up, then Franz and his friends won. That my parents and their negative opinions of me would be what everyone remembered. That I was better than that.” She pulled away, swiped at a tear, then met his eyes. “I’d always listened to Kyle, so it’s no surprise that my subconscious dredged him up. Whatever the reason, it worked. The doctors brought me back quickly and I was put under guard.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I didn’t try to kill myself again, but I didn’t have any enthusiasm for living. Until Simosihle, the music therapist, heard about what I’d done and came to visit, bringing me the gift of music.”

She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out her guitar pick. “My guitar became my lifeline and my security blanket. That’s why I touch this pick whenever I’m stressed or afraid. It centers me by reminding me of all that I’ve already survived. It reminds me that I’m stronger than I think.”

She touched his face. “Please, fight to live. For our future. For the day when you can meet your niece. Don’t you dare give up. Fight with me.”

He took her hands in his. “You make it sound so simple. But history has proven me right. People I care about get hurt or die.”

“Not this time,” Kirra said fiercely. “Because this time you’re not alone.”

“Kirra—” He wanted to tell her how much her support meant to him, but he couldn’t find the right words. So he simply said, “Thank you.” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “No matter what happens in the next few hours, I’m so grateful that I met you. You—” He looked away. But no, that wasn’t fair. She’d been open and vulnerable with him. He needed to respect her enough to do the same. So he met her eyes and let her see everything he was feeling, including the fear that still lingered. “You showed me that there still are bright spots in the world,” he murmured.

Her eyes filled with tears and she gave him a watery smile.

He pressed his forehead to hers a moment, just absorbing her closeness. “I’m going to ask your brother for help. If it was just him, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. But if I’m right, he belongs to a group that might have the connections I need to protect my family.”

Kirra put her hand against her mouth and looked at him with such joy and pride, it made him uneasy.

He stood and walked into the kitchen, to the shelf holding the landline phone. “But not from my satellite phone,” he said as Kirra followed him into the room. “I don’t know if my blackmailer can access a list of the numbers I call.” He found Dev’s number on his sat phone, then dialed from the landline. But the call went immediately into voicemail. Seth met Kirra’s eyes and shook his head while Dev’s greeting played. “This is Jarrod,” Seth said brusquely. “I have a life and death situation.” He took a deep breath.

“Tell Indy that a little girl needs his help.” There was still a likelihood that if the assassin didn’t get him, he’d be arrested by the military. But he didn’t care as long as his niece survived. He gave a brief description of the situation. As an American, Marcus was more likely than Dev to know people in the States who could protect his family. “Don’t call me back on my sat phone. It might be monitored. Use the house phone.” As he hung up, he felt oddly light.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kirra murmured, hugging him tightly.

He hugged her back. Even if his family did get protection, what about Kirra? The blackmailer knew about her now, which meant she could be used as leverage against him. Seth knew from experience that his blackmailer didn’t react well to being thwarted.

He had his suspicions regarding the identity of his blackmailer. The man’s influence across the region pointed to him being the same man who’d sponsored Dietrich, Natchaba, and Morenga. As long as his blackmailer lived, Seth would remain under the man’s control.

Leaving him with two options. Go on the run and hope he could find a place where his blackmailer couldn’t reach him. Or die as he’d originally intended.

But tonight he had Kirra and he was going to savor every moment.

He brushed a kiss over her hair. “I need to shower.”

“All right. I’ll start dinner.”

“No, Kirra, I can cook. I want tonight to be special.”

She shook her head. “Since I don’t have my guitar, cooking will give me something productive to do with my hands.” She stepped back and shooed him out of the room.

He glanced over at the debris in the sitting room. “I’m going to clean that up first.”

After he dumped the trash in the bin out back, he took a fast shower. When he returned to the kitchen, he discovered that Kirra had cooked pasta and improvised a sauce from the non-perishable supplies. While she worked, she hummed her last song from the festival.