WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) (25 page)

Kirra let out her breath. She nodded to let Madame Florence know that the immediate danger had passed. The woman led Kirra across the courtyard to an exit that opened onto a path running along a drainage ditch. The path was barely wide enough for one person to walk safely. Navigating it in the dark reminded Kirra of all the times she’d practiced her escape routes before a heist, trying out even the most seemingly impossible paths.

After two more stops to avoid patrols, Madame Florence halted before a small building with a cross on its roof. She knocked on the door using some sort of code, then repeated the knock. The door opened just enough to allow the two women inside.

A man in a pastor’s robes and two women in dressy local skirts and blouses motioned for Kirra to step toward a door at the back of the room.

“I will leave you here.” Madame Florence handed Seth’s pack to the pastor, then pressed a kiss to Kirra’s cheek. “God be with you, child. You are a talented singer. The world must not lose one such as you.”

Before Kirra could drum up a response, Madame Florence turned and slipped back out the door.

“This way,” the pastor said. He led Kirra to a small kitchen where a man sat in a wooden chair while another man examined the back of his head.

“Seth!” Kirra set her pack down and hurried over. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Seth didn’t move his head, but he swiveled his eyes in her direction. The relief she saw in his gaze reassured her on a primitive level. He held out his hand and she squeezed it. They remained joined like that while the man Kirra assumed was a doctor finished securing a gauze pad over the scratch on Seth’s neck. Then Seth stood up and gathered Kirra in his arms.

Home. His arms felt like home.

She squeezed him tightly, heard his exhale of pain, and stepped back in alarm. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Just bruised ribs. Nothing to be done about that.” He stroked her cheek. She thought he might kiss her, but he pulled back.

Swallowing her disappointment, she struggled to find something to say.

A man burst into the room. “Hurry. Bureh’s men are almost to town.”

The pastor hurried to the back door. After checking through the window, he opened it and motioned for Seth and Kirra to follow. “Quickly. Into the back.”

The man who’d given them the warning grabbed the backpacks and slipped past the pastor. When Kirra stepped outside the man motioned for her to climb into a compartment at the back of an old Range Rover. The space barely had room for Kirra, Seth, and the packs. Kirra was pressed so tightly against Seth that she could scarcely breathe.

The lid to the compartment slid shut, enclosing them in darkness.

Kirra’s heart rate kicked up. She tensed.

No!
Not here. Not now. She wriggled until she could pull the guitar pick from her pocket.

“Shh,” Seth breathed against her ear. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

She leaned into him, clutching the pick. “I know.”

“This isn’t the same. You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

She heard people talking outside the vehicle. Then the vehicle dipped as several people piled into the compartment above them. They sang and joked and shouted good-naturedly at one another as if Sankoh’s men were no threat at all. When the vehicle started up and rolled forward, everyone cheered.

They kept up the raucous noise as the Range Rover bumped through town. After ten minutes, it rolled to a stop.

“Quiet!” a man ordered from outside the vehicle. “Everyone out. Stand with your hands raised while we search for the fugitives.”

Kirra clutched her guitar pick tighter and pressed her face against Seth’s neck.

The pastor said something, but she couldn’t make out his words.

The vehicle dipped and rose as men climbed through it. She had no trouble picturing them searching for hidden compartments under the seats. When the search moved into the cargo compartment above her, she tensed. Yet even though she heard a panel slide open nearby, it wasn’t the one to their hiding place.

Eventually the searchers gave the all-clear. The passengers climbed back into the vehicle, the engine started, and the vehicle rolled away. Within a few seconds, the passengers resumed their singing. Not long after that, the surface underneath the wheels changed from uneven dirt to smooth road.

Despite the uncomfortable position and the noise of the singers, Kirra fell into a light doze. Some time later, she was jolted back into full awareness as the vehicle slowed, then left the road with a bump that rattled her bones. After a few more turns, the vehicle came to a stop. Once again, the people above her exited the vehicle.

“We are here, my friends.” Kirra recognized the voice of the pastor.

Someone slid open the panel to the hiding place, letting in blessed fresh air. Seth was helped out of the compartment first, then an unfamiliar man reached his hand down for Kirra.

Once outside, she grabbed hold of the doorframe to steady herself while the blood returned to her legs and feet. As she waited, she studied her surroundings. They were parked among the trees edging a graveyard. A few people held lanterns as they formed a procession into the graveyard.

“This way,” the pastor said. He led them through the trees along the left side of the graveyard. A short time later, he stopped next to a white, slightly beat-up Toyota Land Cruiser that was parked behind a maintenance shed. The pastor handed a set of keys to Seth. “Take this with my blessing. You will find that both the overhead light and the taillights have already been disabled.”

Interesting. Kirra wondered what types of activities the pastor and his friends had been conducting under Sankoh’s nose.

“Thank you,” she and Seth said at the same time.

“It is our pleasure. Now go. Bureh’s rebels have joined the search. If you drive that way”—he waved in the direction the four-by-four was pointed—“you will reach the road that leads out of town. Turn right and within ten minutes you will reach a north-south road.”

Seth stowed his bag behind the driver’s seat. Kirra gave the pastor a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you and everyone else for helping us.”

When she stepped back, the pastor beamed at her. “You may repay us by reaching your concert and allowing the attendees to hear your remarkable music.”

“I will.” Kirra ran over to the vehicle, threw her pack onto the back seat, then hopped into the passenger’s seat.

Seth jumped behind the wheel. “What the—?” he said with a frown. Shifting his weight, he reached underneath his butt and removed an older model revolver. “Well. This is unexpected.”

Kirra glanced out the window, but the pastor had disappeared.

Seth checked the chamber. “Fully loaded. Nice.” He stuck the gun in the cup holder. When he settled back into his seat, he winced.

She opened her mouth to ask if he was okay to drive, decided that his male pride wouldn’t admit it if he wasn’t, and closed her mouth.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Seth asked.

“Always, partner.”

He grinned at her. “I like the sound of that.”

So did Kirra. Far too much.

He’s going to leave you. Don’t let him break your heart.

But she suspected it might already be too late.

Chapter Twenty-Two

D
ev sped through the night
. His Jeep hit a pothole and muddy water splashed the sides, but he didn’t slow down. A woman within Rene’s network had texted him to say that Kirra was on stage at the local festival.

For God’s sake, he’d been worried sick and here was this woman Tweeting photos of Kirra singing and looking as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Dev was going to wring his sister’s neck for putting him through this.

Typical Kirra. Everyone was freaked out about her safety and she was having fun.

No more. He couldn’t take any more of this crap. He didn’t know how he could get it through her thick head that she needed to have a care both for her own safety and for the mental health of those who loved her. But somehow he’d do it.

At least this time he knew where she was. He was still too far away to make it to the festival before Kirra finished singing, but odds were that she’d be staying somewhere in the town overnight.

There was no update on Seth Jarrod aka Michael Hughes. From a personal point of view, he hoped the pilot had dropped out of the picture, leading the assassin away from Kirra. But since he’d been tasked with bringing in both Jarrod and the diamonds, it would be better if the man still accompanied Kirra.

Seeing the turn-off for the road he wanted, Dev slowed so that he didn’t risk tipping over on the turn. Once he’d straightened the Jeep out again, he stomped on the accelerator. Another hour, hour and a quarter and he should reach the town. For the first time he felt optimistic. It was about time something went right. He’d spent the day chasing Kirra’s credit card as the rebels used it to purchase everything from food to ammunition to X-rated videos. But it had soon become clear that the rebels with her credit card weren’t involved in the search for Kirra. He’d found them hanging out at a bar, having used her credit card to buy access to a private room where they’d been entertaining a group of women.

Dev had considered wading into the party just for the joy of punching someone. He badly needed to release some of his frustration. But he couldn’t very well preach responsibility to Kirra then let himself off the leash because he was angry and worried. So he’d called in a tip to the local police. Whether they chose to do anything about the rebels was anyone’s guess. While the government here was nominally still anti-rebel, they certainly hadn’t been doing much to stop the rebels from running free.

Dev wished his teammates weren’t out on a mission. He missed having someone at his back. And he wasn’t suited for this kind of work. He’d never make it as a detective. How could anyone spend their life chasing leads that led nowhere? He’d go crazy in a week.

At least he had Rene and his miracle network of informants to help him. And the crew at HQ sent him updates as they came in. It wasn’t the same, though. Since joining WAR, he’d come to rely on the members of his team. They were his family now. His brothers. He’d much rather be with them, kicking rebel ass, than chasing after his flighty sister.

She thought she’d just take a break and perform in public, did she? Well, no more.

W
hen he spotted
the road to town through the trees, Seth braked and cut off the headlights. “Wait—”

But Kirra had already jumped out of the vehicle and sidled up to the tree closest to the road. She checked in both directions, then ducked sharply back.

Two open-topped Jeeps packed with Bureh’s rebels roared past, heading toward town.

Seth held his breath until the vehicles moved out of sight. Kirra double-checked the road, then returned to her seat.

“Those were the only vehicles I spotted.”

“Right.” Keeping the headlights off, Seth slowly swung the vehicle onto the road, turning right, away from town, per the pastor’s instructions. After a few yards, Seth checked that the rebel vehicles had moved out of sight, then turned on the lights. This way they’d appear to be merely another vehicle from the search party. Until someone drove close enough to look through their windows.

Seth pushed the Land Cruiser as fast it could go.

A few minutes later he spotted the intersection with the north-south road. Four rebel Jeeps were parked broadside, forming a roadblock. Another rebel Jeep was driving toward Seth and Kirra.

Seth killed the headlights and spun the wheel to the right. The rebels opened fire, but the Land Cruiser wasn’t in range yet.

Seth floored it, aiming for the jungle.

A grenade exploded behind them.

The shock wave shook the Land Cruiser. The vehicle slalomed as Seth struggled to regain control. He got the wheels straightened out seconds before the vehicle plunged into the jungle. The moon peeked out between the storm clouds, providing minimal illumination. After the second time he swerved around a tree he hadn’t seen until almost too late, he slowed down.

“What’s the plan?” Kirra asked. In the faint light from the instrument panel, he saw that she had one hand braced on the dash and the other holding the stability handle over the side window.

“We’ll circle around the roadblock, then return to the road.”

“Why not find a place to hide? It’s dark enough.”

He shook his head. “I doubt they have infrared, but I can’t take the chance.”

Gunfire erupted behind and to the left of them. “Here they come,” Seth muttered.

Unfortunately, the darkness and the rough terrain prevented him from gaining a comfortable lead. The rebels had the advantage of being able to use their headlights. But they were making so much noise, they wouldn’t be able to track the Land Cruiser by sound.

Seth drove in a wide arc that took them back to the road. Their pursuers were still some distance back, so he braked. This time he beat Kirra out of the vehicle. He scanned the road, then returned to his seat.

“We’re well past the roadblock,” he said.

He eased onto the road and drove as fast as he safely could in the opposite direction. When headlights finally showed up about a half a mile behind them, he turned left and entered the jungle again. He drove until they’d travelled far enough that headlights turned in their direction wouldn’t reach them. Then he slowed the vehicle and brought it to a stop next to the wide trunk of a baobab tree. “I’m going back to hide the signs of where we entered the jungle. Wait here.”

Kirra crossed her arms over her chest, but before she had time to argue, he’d already jumped out.

It didn’t take him long to shake up the flattened grass and rearrange the broken bushes so they didn’t appear damaged. Several vehicles passed by while he worked, but the vegetation provided an adequate shield. The vehicles came from both directions. Some of them were rebel trucks and Jeeps sporting Bureh’s insignia. A number of cars and SUVs bore Sankoh’s discrete logo, although a few appeared to be private vehicles.

Hell. This had turned into a major manhunt.

He snuck back to Kirra and explained the situation. “We’ll wait half an hour, unless the searchers enter this area.” He shifted to find a position that didn’t aggravate his sore ribs. “Do you still have my phone?” He wouldn’t get a signal under the canopy, but as soon as they reached open sky, he wanted to put in another call to Dr. LaSalle.

“Yes, but it doesn’t have a charge.”

“All right.” He didn’t know how long they’d stay in this vehicle, but he expected they might have to make a sudden exit. So he wouldn’t set up the car charger.

“I’m sorry,” Kirra murmured. “This is all my fault.”

“What?”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Someone on the bus recognized me and told Sankoh’s men.”

“Bus? Kirra, what the hell? You got on a
bus
?”

She let out a wordless sound of frustration. “You’re just like my brother,” she snapped. “Assuming the worst because Kirra is too reckless and too naïve to know what’s safe and what isn’t.”

“That’s not what I meant. You said—”

She leaned forward and he could feel her hurt and fury pushing against him. “After you drove off in the four-by-four with your new buddies, I stole a
bakkie
and drove in the opposite direction. But the engine died and I was hit from behind by a bus.”

“Are you injured?” He reached for her. “You didn’t look hurt on stage.”

She swatted his hands away. “No. I’m not hurt. Not physically. The bus just clipped the corner of the bumper. You’re the one Sankoh’s men hurt, because they were looking for me. Although why I should worry about a man who thinks I’m so clueless that I’d get on a public bus without coercion is beyond my understanding.”

“How—?” He shook his head, too angry over the thought of the harm Sankoh’s men might have done to Kirra to speak coherently. He took a deep breath and sat back in his seat. “Tell me everything that happened, starting when I fell onto the road.”

Kirra remained poised on the edge of her seat a moment, then settled down and stared out the windshield. In a tight voice, she explained about crossing under the bridge and seeing him joke with the guards before getting into the four-by-four.

“You actually thought they were my friends?”

“Why not? You kept telling me not to trust you or rely on you. And you’ve been eager to pass me off to someone else.”

“To protect you! Because I can’t even protect my goddamn self.” He shook his head. “So everything you said to me before, how I’m a good man at heart and not to blame myself for killing those innocent people, that’s all just bullshit?” A cold, bitter pain spread throughout his chest.

“No. I believed it at the time. But for all I know, your story about being deceived by the general was a lie. Part of some twisted mind game.” She shoved her hand into her pocket. “After all, I have a history of trusting the wrong people.”

How could he argue with that? And hadn’t he been worried at the beginning that
she’d
been playing
him
? The icy pain didn’t completely ease, but it did thaw a bit.

She sighed. “I finally decided that even if you were in league with Sankoh’s men, you’d worked too hard to keep me away from the rebels to turn me in.”

Kirra had a point. Why should she trust him when he’d done his best to convince her that he wasn’t an honorable man?

It stung more than he’d expected, because he wanted to be that man for her.

“So what happened after you saw me get into the SUV?”

She explained about stealing the truck, the accident, being forced onto the bus, and Sankoh threatening Seth’s life if she didn’t perform.

“Jesus Christ, Kirra.” He pulled her into a hug, needing to assure himself she was alive. She resisted at first, then settled cautiously against his chest. He didn’t want to let her go, but finally his common sense reasserted itself and he eased her away from him.

“Do you have any idea how I felt when I heard the recording of you being beaten because of me?” Kirra murmured, glancing out the side window. “I’m so sorry.”

He hated that he’d been responsible for that note of pain and guilt in her voice. But it was further proof that he needed to get her to someone who could keep her safe. Then he’d lead the assassin far away from her for their final confrontation. Because if she hurt this much over a little beating, Seth couldn’t let her see, or even hear of, his death. “Kirra, none of this is your fault. I’m the idiot who didn’t notice how unstable that ground was. Talk about stupid.”

“No.” Kirra snapped. “Don’t use that word. Don’t ever use that word about yourself.”

“What? Stupid?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

The protective core of him went still with outrage. “You said your brother made you feel stupid,” he said slowly. “Who else?”

She hesitated and lowered her gaze to her lap. Then she met his eyes and admitted softly. “My parents. My teachers. Franz.” She shrugged as if the pain in her voice didn’t give her away. “I didn’t always think things through. I liked to take risks and I did as I wanted, regardless of whether that made me late for dinner or meant that someone else had to perform a chore that was my responsibility.” She twined her fingers together. “Everyone assumed I was too dumb to understand the consequences of my actions. It wasn’t that. I just didn’t care about anything except achieving that next adrenaline rush.”

Seth was really going to have to hunt her brother down and knock some respect into him. “You know that’s bullshit, right? Only a smart, brave woman could have made it from the jungle to that stage.”

“Thanks to the skills I learned as a thief. That’s not exactly a responsible skill set.”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am that you had the ability to get yourself out of the jungle.” He took a deep breath. “The world would be a dimmer place without you—and your music—in it.”

She turned to face him, mouth open in surprise.

“When you stepped onto the stage, I felt so damn proud that you’d made it to safety on your own that I could barely hold back my grin.” He cupped her head in his palms and kissed her. It was a kiss of relief. A confirmation that they were both alive and together. One last taste of her goodness before he said good-bye.

Mindful that they weren’t out of danger yet, he pulled back before the pleasure completely swamped him. “You showed both strength and resilience today.” He couldn’t resist brushing his fingers over the silky skin of her cheek. “You got up on stage, as calm and sunny as if you hadn’t been through a life-and-death ordeal, and as soon as you opened your mouth you had that crowd eating out of your palm. You are one amazing singer, Kirra. You totally blew me and every other person in the audience away. Even my guards were enthralled. And that final song?”

He placed another kiss on her knuckles, then set her hand back in her lap. “God, it felt as if you’d cut open my chest and exposed all of my deepest wants and fears.” The mix of English and Afrikaans meant he hadn’t understood all the lyrics. Yet he’d understood the gist of it. Loss. Loneliness. Redemption.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Shit, I’m saying this wrong.” He rested his forehead against hers, enjoying the simple pleasure of feeling her breath against him as he attempted to sort out his emotions and put them into words. “Your song wasn’t a violation. It was more like a…purging? I’m not sure if that’s really the right word. But I felt peaceful after it was over. As if your song had given me acceptance and a blessing that I hadn’t even known I needed.”

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