WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) (30 page)

Knowing that he’d done all he could to keep Kirra safe, he returned to the bedroom, placed the revolver on the end table, and propped the AK-47 against the mattress. Then he crawled into bed.

Tomorrow they’d head out. Find a road. Steal some transport. With any luck, by tomorrow night they’d reach the UAR and safety.

Then they’d say good-bye, and a part of Seth’s heart would walk away with Kirra.

So? The assassin is going to take care of all your pain.

This time, instead of bringing him comfort, the thought brought panic. He didn’t want to leave Kirra. But what choice did he have? His defenseless niece needed him to stay true to his mission. No matter how much it broke his heart to know he couldn’t have a future with Kirra.

But tonight was his. Shoving all other thoughts out of his head, he wrapped his arms around her. His heart expanded when she turned and snuggled closer to him and he placed a tender kiss on her hair.

Then, much to his surprise, he fell instantly asleep.


I
don’t fucking believe
this.” Dev ran his hands through his hair as he paced the living area room of the safe house. “Every time we get close to them, Seth Jarrod manages to spirit Kirra away.” He glanced over at Rene, who leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re sure that Jarrod isn’t going to turn her over to Morenga or the rebels?”

Rene gave a very Gallic shrug. “He’s different from other mercenaries,
mon amie
. He continues to fly for several NGOs, plus he risked his life to save the victims of Dakassou. I don’t know of another mercenary who would have remained behind to evacuate those people after having himself been shot. But can I say with one hundred percent confidence that he is on the up-and-up?” Another shrug. “Of course not. But think on this. He could have turned her over to the rebels at any point. The fact that he has kept your sister with him indicates to me that he wishes to protect her.”

“Or that he plans to use her as a bargaining chip.”

“Perhaps. But nothing I have seen from him indicates that he is the type of man to hand a woman over to the rebels.”


Ja,
well right now I don’t trust anyone with her life,” Dev conceded. He stopped in front of the window, glaring at the rain that once again hampered their search. By the time he’d reached the festival town, the town had been in an uproar. Men from both Sankoh and Bureh had been conducting a manhunt for Jarrod and Kirra.

Dev had questioned a few of the townspeople and made contact with a pastor who worked with the underground. The pastor confirmed that Jarrod and Kirra had made it safely out of town in a vehicle he’d loaned them. He’d also been hiding several townspeople and their visiting relatives, all people who had aided the pair’s escape. When one of Bureh’s search parties had almost stumbled upon their hiding spot, Dev had taken Bureh’s men out. He’d then run interference with a group of Sankoh’s men while the pastor moved his charges to a more secure location deeper into the jungle. All the while monitoring the search’s progress by listening in on the rebels’ communications.

Then word had come through that Jarrod had stolen an airplane, which had taken numerous bullets upon takeoff.

Dev pounded his fist lightly against the window sill. Kirra might even now be lying in the plane’s wreckage. With hundreds of kilometers of jungle out there, her body might never be found.

No. He refused to believe Kirra was dead. Not until he saw her body.

Just as, after the rebels attacked the peace summit, he’d refused to accept his parents’ deaths until he’d identified their bodies.

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. Seeing victims of the rebels was bad enough when they were strangers. When he’d looked at his parents’ bodies, the grief and guilt and anger had nearly driven him to his knees.

Even all these months later, he wondered if WAR could have prevented the attack. Because for once, even Rene’s extensive network hadn’t picked up any verifiable threats ahead of the summit. If only WAR had possessed the funding to bring in more intelligence assets, would they have learned of the attack in time to prevent it?

He’d never know.

“Do not forget,” Rene said gently, pulling Dev’s thoughts back to what mattered right now. “Jarrod is the man who evaded those jets from the New Malian Air Force. Plus, your helicopter pilot, Marcus Jones, confirms Jarrod’s flying prowess. If anyone has the skills to land a damaged plane safely, it is this man.”

“God, I hope so.”

Rene straightened away from the doorway and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Ah. Here is the message I have been waiting on. Jarrod’s phone number. I will forward the information to you.” He pushed a few buttons, then pocketed the device. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.” Rene nodded toward the set of keys sitting on the table. “You have transportation as well. Do you require anything else?”

Dev shook his head. “No, man, thanks. You should get some rest.” Rene had, as usual, been providing medical care in the aftermath of an attack by the rebels when word had reached him about the manhunt for Kirra. He’d immediately offered his help.

Noticing how pale and tired Rene looked, Dev added, “Are you all right? You look like hell.”

Rene gave Dev a wan smile and shook his head slightly. “I shall leave now and get some sleep,” he said. “Unlike you ghosts, I know when I am at my limit and need to recharge.” With a slight nod, he turned and walked away.

Dev frowned at Rene’s retreating back. In addition to providing rock-solid intelligence, Rene had a reputation as a doctor who took care of his patients under the most extreme conditions, yet always remained unflappable and optimistic. This was the first time Dev had seen him look not just tired, but emotionally run down. As if he no longer believed events would turn out favorably.

Now where had that thought come from?

Still, the sense that something deeper was bothering Rene continued to nag at him.

Focus on one problem at a time. First, find Kirra. Then check up on Rene.

Dev pulled out his satellite phone. Since Jarrod continued to deftly elude his pursuers, he must be some sort of ninja phantom, like the ghosts Rene had mentioned.

Dev snorted. Nope. The pilot was as human as the next man. He simply excelled at keeping to the shadows, same as WAR’s soldiers, which had earned Dev and his teammates the reputation of being ghosts. Plus, Jarrod had the advantage of being one step ahead of everyone in a country with plenty of unmonitored space to hide in. And Dev was the sorry son-of-a-bitch stuck with the job of bringing Jarrod in. He circled his head, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. While Rene’s information was crucial, it would take more than one man to bring Jarrod in if he couldn’t be persuaded to go along willingly.

Only, Dev continued to work without backup.

Locating Rene’s text containing Jarrod’s number, Dev keyed it into his contact list then pressed Talk. But the call went straight to voicemail.

“Listen up, Jarrod,” Dev snarled. “You’d better keep my sister safe and sound or you’re a dead man. Have Kirra call me immediately at this number.” He gave his phone number twice, then ended the call and resumed his pacing.

He hoped that Jarrod hadn’t answered the phone because the battery had died or he’d lost the device, not that Jarrod and Kirra lay dead somewhere. Wouldn’t that just be the ultimate “fuck you” from the universe if another set of rebels—the very men he worked so hard to take down—ended up killing Kirra?

No. He refused to believe that. He would see his sister again. Hell, Kirra had died three times already and come back. Certainly no mere rebel could kill her.

Please, let her be alive. I promise to be a better brother. Just keep her safe.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Wednesday

K
irra awoke slowly
, as she always did. She turned over onto her back and stretched. Then the fact that she was in a bed, underneath a light sheet, registered. She froze.

Her eyes flew open. She was in a small, sparsely furnished bedroom.

When she spotted her backpack sitting next to Seth’s, she relaxed. That’s right. They’d walked here after the plane crash.

She was safe.

Cobwebs filled the corners and the blue paint on the concrete walls had faded and chipped. Rain pounded a steady rhythm on the metal roof. The light coming through the bare, louvered windows was so dim, Kirra couldn’t tell what time it was. Heck, she could barely see more than a meter out the window due to the haze from the rain.

Kirra peeked under the covers and saw that she was naked. Her heart fluttered. Had she and Seth…?

No. There’s no way she would have forgotten that.

She yawned a few times, then climbed out of bed. A plain, sturdy wood table sat beside the bed. Their backpacks leaned against the matching armoire in the corner. Her clothes from yesterday were missing. So, still yawning, she pulled on her last set of clean underwear and a bra. Huh. Why were her nipples achy?

Thinking back to last night conjured up fuzzy memories that made her cheeks heat. Oh. She remembered sitting on a stool while Seth washed her. Watching him soap up his own body and wishing that she had the energy to do it for him because she wanted to feel his male power underneath her fingertips.

Telling him to hold her while she slept.

She glanced at the bed and noticed that yes, there was a second pillow on the bed with a head imprint. So, wherever Seth had disappeared to, at least he’d spent part of the night with her. The thought gave her a warm glow.

Since she’d been told that trousers were still considered risqué for women in some areas of West Africa, she’d only packed one pair. Both those and the ones Madame Florence had provided for her getaway were missing, so she dressed in a t-shirt and loose skirt. Then she ran through a couple of stretching exercises before grabbing her toiletry kit and searching for the facilities. After she’d taken care of her morning routine and tamed her unruly hair into a loose braid, she returned her toiletry kit to her backpack and went looking for Seth.

When she didn’t spot him anywhere in the four-room bungalow, she started to get nervous.

Relax. There’s no way he would hold you all night and then abandon you. And no matter how deeply you slept, you’d never have missed the rebels dragging him off. So he must be somewhere nearby.

The rain finally lifted enough to give her a view to the open front of the shed across the back lot. Seth stood inside, hanging laundry on a line, with the AK-47 propped against the wall. His chest was bare and he wore a pair of bright green and purple shorts in one of the local tribal patterns. She bit back a grin. The shorts were too cheerful to belong to him, yet they did nothing to detract from his aura of danger and competence. For a long moment, she simply watched him, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin and trying not to drool.

Then she darted through the rain and ducked underneath the shed’s overhang.

“Good morning,” she called over the cacophony from the rain. “You’re up early.”

He turned with a smile and her breath caught at his relaxed, happy expression. She’d never seen that look on his face before. It completely transformed his face. He no longer looked a hairsbreadth away from violence. Instead, he looked like a man who knew how to laugh and how to love.

Love? Oh, no. She didn’t care what her heart thought. This wasn’t love. It was just stress talking.

“Early?” Seth said, raising his brows. He reached for a button-up shirt lying next to him and shrugged into it, much to Kirra’s disappointment. “It’s almost noon.”

She yawned and nodded. “Sure. That’s early when we went to sleep at dawn.”

He chuckled and moved his boxer briefs farther down the line, as if hoping she hadn’t spotted them drying next to her bra. “I don’t know how long it will take for our clothes to dry with this humidity,” he said with a sheepish shrug. “It was sunny when I washed them, then the storm came up and ruined my plan for a quick dry in the sun.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Couple of hours.”

Her jaw nearly split on another yawn. “Sorry. Apparently my body needs more than one night’s sleep to feel rested.”

He glanced at her as he unpinned her trousers, turned them over, then re-pinned them to the line. “Understandable. I found a radio,” he jerked his chin toward the corner where a tiny transistor radio sat on an overturned bucket. Wires led from the radio into the car charger plugged into Seth’s satellite phone. “The weather report says the storm is going to get worse as the day goes on. I know we’re on a tight deadline, but I think it’s safer to stay here and wait for the storm to pass than to head out on foot.”

Kirra gave him a knowing smile. “Yeah, since the last time we stayed out in a storm it didn’t work out so well for you.” Then she frowned and dropped her gaze to his leg. “What’s the status of the wound on your thigh?”

He shrugged. “As I thought, it’s just a shallow gouge. It aches, but it stopped bleeding and isn’t inhibiting my movement.”

Seth reached out to reposition his socks on the line.

“I would never have accepted your help that first night if I’d known you’d be hurt because of me,” she said quietly.

“No.” Seth stepped forward and took her shoulders in his hands. “Kirra, no matter how well you’ve been trained, you wouldn’t stand a chance against those men. They’re brutal. I’d take a thousand beatings rather than have one of those men lay a finger on you.”

“Seth,” she murmured, barely able to get his name out past the lump in her throat. Their eyes met. Held. Something passed between them. Something that made her breath catch.

The silence grew. She wanted to speak. To acknowledge this bond between them, but was afraid of being rejected again.

Standing this close to him, feeling the warmth of his breath on her lips, seeing the faint specks of gold in his hazel eyes, her fingers itched to stroke his face and let him know how much he’d come to matter to her. But he dropped his hand and stepped back, returning to adjusting the laundry before she could muster up the courage to act.

He cleared his throat. “The storm will slow down the search for us,” he said. “Aircraft will be grounded. Rain will obliterate the signs of where we left the water. Still, as soon as the storm lets up, we should leave. Someone will eventually find this place, and the forest isn’t dense enough to hide us for long.”

“How are your ribs?”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

Which, of course, meant that he hurt. “Liar.” She rubbed her own ribs, remembering how long the ache had lingered after the attack.

“I couldn’t believe how tireless you were yesterday,” she said softly. “Despite being injured you just kept trekking on, while I felt as if I would drop in place.”

“Hey.” Seth walked over and put a finger under her chin, lifting it so she met his gaze. “Don’t compare yourself to me, sweetheart. Not only have I been through some of the toughest survival training in the world, but I’ve had experience putting that training into practice. As I said before, for someone not used to running through the jungle, you’ve done a remarkable job.”

“I can’t remember if I said it last night,” Kirra said, “but thank you for bringing the plane down safely. And thank you for all the times you’ve saved my life since we met.”

He shot her a look full of disbelief and opened his mouth to protest.

She held up her hand to forestall him. “No, Seth. Don’t even bring up the you’re-in-danger-because-of-my-assassin thing. The rebels have been on my tail every step of the way even without your shooter. So forget about taking the blame for any of this. Instead, this is where you say ‘You’re welcome Kirra.’”

He shook his head. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

Her breath caught. He said the words with such pride that they sliced into that knot of self-doubt she’d never completely managed to dissolve. She gave him a wobbly smile. “Thanks, Seth.” Then she knocked her shoulder against his. “I’m still waiting for the ‘You’re welcome, Kirra’ thing.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome, Kirra.”

She laughed in delight. “There. Was that so hard?”

He groaned and clutched his chest, which only increased the warmth in her own.

Oh yes, she definitely liked this lighter side of Seth. “So what now?”

He shrugged. “If you’re still tired, you can go back to bed.”

“Not alone I won’t.”

Seth froze, his expression such a mixture of lust and dismay that Kirra’s heart sank.

“Kirra?” His chest rose and fell on two quick breaths and his hands clenched into fists. “What are you saying?”

She dropped her hand. Opened her mouth to speak, then had to alter her intended words when her stomach rumbled. “I’m saying that I need food.” But she couldn’t quiet the part of her that wanted one last shot at breaking through Seth’s resistance. Taking a deep breath, she blurted, “After I’ve eaten I think we should spend the rest of the day in bed. Together. Making love.” It might be too soon for her to call it love, but her emotions were already too involved to call it sex.

“I—” Conflict waged in his eyes and he glanced away. “That’s a bad idea. You…Me…” He shrugged.

Her stomach dropped. Despite his sweet words, she wasn’t good enough. She stepped back. Then she caught a glimpse of shame on his face and stopped her retreat. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said very quietly, “Seth, is this about what happened in Southeast Asia? Because I might have been almost asleep last night, but I seem to remember that your body responded to me. I know you want me.” If he couldn’t get past his guilt, then how was she supposed to convince him to stay with her?

His gaze flew to hers. “God, yes. You have no idea how badly I want to take you up on your offer. But…yeah, you’re right.” He lowered his eyes. “Once I’ve seen you to safety, we’ll say good-bye. I think it’s better if we don’t act on this attraction. That way you won’t have any regrets.”

Kirra inhaled sharply through her nose. Her fingers tightened on her elbows and her forearms pressed harder against her chest. “Oh. Hell. No.” Fury rose so fast and so hot that she could barely force the words out without screaming. And she would not scream. That would only allow him to write her off as a temperamental woman not worth his time. “You do
not
get to stand there and play the martyr, Mr. High-and-Mighty I-Know-Best.”

She stepped forward and jabbed her finger into his chest. “This thing between us has nothing to do with your past. You didn’t deliberately kill innocent people.”

His eyes jerked up to clash with hers. Oh, yes. There was the guilt and shame.

She wanted to throw something at his head for not being willing to listen to her. Instead, she took a deep breath. “I don’t care what bad guys you’ve flown for. What matters is the way you’ve looked out for me since I ruined your evening the other night. How you’ve stayed with me despite having no reason to.”

Seth backed up a step, holding his hands up in surrender. “Kirra—”

“No. Despite thinking you looked scary that first night—”

He flinched.

Darn it, that had been the wrong thing to say. She reached out, grabbed his wrist, then brought his hand to her cheek. “What I mean is that despite thinking you looked dangerous, I also thought you looked deliciously sexy.”

Keeping his palm against her cheek, she turned her head and placed a kiss on the sensitive skin at the inside of his wrist. Her reward was the darkening of his eyes.

Still holding his gaze, she guided his hand away from her face, down her neck and shoulder, along her arm to her hand. Then she twined her fingers with his.

“My past isn’t all sweetness and light, either, Seth.” She nodded at the white web of scars along her inner arm. “But I’m not using that to push you away.”

“You’re strong. A survivor. You didn’t ask to be attacked.”

“But I did embrace a life of crime, Seth. I stole from innocent people because I loved the thrill of it.”

“So? That doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s not as if you held people at gunpoint and robbed them. Besides, that’s in the past. You’ve turned your life around.” He raised her arm and pressed a line of kisses from her wrist to her elbow and back.

“Uh…” His mouth sent shivers coursing through her body and she forgot what point she wanted to make.

No. He didn’t get to distract her so easily. She yanked her arm free and stepped back. “So,” she said briskly, “let me summarize the reasons why you think you’re no good for me. First, there’s your guilt over flying the shipment of explosive MP3 players, which wasn’t your fault because you didn’t know what your cargo contained. Second is your guilt about being deceived by the general into killing innocent people and which led to your teammates dying. You’ve said yourself that you saw no signs that the general was corrupt. Anyone could have ended up in the same position.”

She softened her tone. “That doesn’t make you a bad man, Seth. It makes you human. The fact that you’re still carrying around guilt proves that you’re a compassionate human being.”

He made an incoherent sound of protest.

Thick-headed man.

She sighed inwardly. All she could do was tell him over and over again that she believed in him. Hold up a mirror to reflect back to him the good man she saw, rather than his negative self-perception. Seth would have to choose to take the first steps toward healing.

For Kirra, it had been her mentor, Simosihle, who had pushed her to believe in herself. And despite hours of counseling, she was still working through lingering feelings of inadequacy. But at least she was committed to the process. If she had any hopes of a future with Seth, she had to get him to admit that he needed to heal.

“Have you intentionally killed anyone outside of a mission?” she asked.

He flinched.

Oh, Seth.

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