Prisoner of War Read online

  She was mortally aware of the small weight of the knife in her pocket. It was a goad that kept her moving, scrambling, hurrying.

  At the top of the slope, the ground flattened out. It wasn’t horizontal, although walking on even a gentle slope was such a relief her thighs trembled in reaction.

  Duardo glanced around quickly and beckoned her on. He did not take her hand. She saw that the flap on his holster wasn’t hanging loose over the butt of the gun anymore. It was tucked firmly out of the way.

  She hurried after him, trying to keep up despite the agony in her legs. Her breath burned in her chest and throat.

  Ahead, the dark backdrop of the forest grew lighter. As they progressed the daylight became distinct. The trees were ending. Her relief was warm water in her veins. It must be the campground ahead. Her pace quickened.

  Abruptly, Duardo spun around. In one movement he scooped her up with her back against him, his hand slapped over her mouth, he pushed himself up against a tree and froze.

  Her relief turned to ice water. Minnie swallowed and her dry throat clicked. What had alarmed Duardo? She had heard nothing, seen nothing. Although, she had not been looking or listening. She had been so thrilled at the nearness of the campground she paid no attention to anything else.

  If Duardo had not been here...

  His hand lifted from her mouth and moving slowly, he tugged on her ear lobe. Listen.

  She listened.

  From far away, she heard a choppy sound she had only ever heard on television and in the movies. A helicopter. Nick and maybe Calli too. Even as she heard it, it seemed to grow louder. It was echoing oddly. The echo was the sound of the helicopter bouncing off mountains. It meant Nick was flying low.

  Why low? Why, if Nick was here, was Duardo standing still?

  She listened. Not far away, she heard a flat, irregular shuffling. Something or someone was moving carefully through the forest. Either they didn’t know that Minnie and Duardo were there, or they were bad at moving silently.

  That gave her an insight into Duardo’s thinking. Regular Vistarian army personnel had forest and mountain warfare drilled into them from basic training onwards. Duardo had described some of his brutal training and survival courses, which he said was merely standard training. Regular Vistarian soldiers wouldn’t be so bad at sneaking through a jungle.

  These weren’t regular soldiers and they wouldn’t be civilians. Not here. Insurrectos then.

  Duardo’s hand moved down to his hip. He slid his gun out. Against her shoulders she could feel his chest move as he breathed. Slow and even.

  The noise of the helicopter leapt in volume. It became the only thing to be heard. Then, even louder, came the ratcheting, heavy stutter of what had to be some sort of machine gun.

  Dimly, beneath the noise, she heard shouting. There was more than one person, then.

  “Que la chingada!” Duardo breathed, stiffening. He stepped away from the tree, turning her loose. There was no danger of him being heard. The noise of the helicopter was thudding in her ears and the machine gun fire, though intermittent, was a roar that swallowed even the helicopter sounds. Where did they have the gun? Stuffed behind a tree?

  Duardo gave her a small push. “Run for the edge of the trees, Minnie. Don’t look around.”

  She took off. Panic was a marvelous inducement. She flew along, skimming over vines and logs, pushing off with her toes for an extra burst of speed. Thank god she’d put on joggers this morning and not sandals. She reached the brilliant sunlight and halted, hugging a tree and gasping. Ahead was the camping area, about a mile across and two miles wide, empty of everything but grass. Above it, moving in a steep circle, was the helicopter. There were white lines racing toward it. Minnie realized the lines were bullets from the machine gun. Nick turned the helicopter in a circle to duck the bullets.

  Duardo pushed up against her from behind and looked over her shoulder.

  “There.” She pointed.

  He nodded. “He won’t land, not until he knows we’re here.” He took a deep breath. “I will go out. Do not come out into the open until I wave you on. Then you run for the helicopter as fast as you can. Do not look around, Minnie. I will be watching your back. Okay?”

  There was no time for questions. For anything. She nodded, unable to catch her breath enough to answer.

  Duardo ran out into the open in a slow jog, his gaze on the helicopter. His gun was in his hand. Immediately, the craft dropped down, rushing toward Duardo. The descent was so steep it looked like the helicopter had lost power, only the roar of the engine assured Minnie it had not.

  She heard a shout from far inside the forest. The machine gun fell silent. Nick was too low for the gun to sight him, now. The shout alerted Duardo, who looked over his shoulder.

  He glanced at her and waved.

  Minnie took off. She had no idea where the energy came from. Somewhere deep, she found the power and wind to run at a full sprint. She reached Duardo. “Keep going!” he shouted, letting her pass him.

  He was protecting her back.

  From the edge of the forest she heard more shouting. They were being pursued.

  The helicopter touched down barely ten feet in front of her. The door flew open. Calli scrambled into the back, leaving the passenger seat open. Nick at the controls, watched Minnie, his face tight and emotionless. Calculating.

  Minnie missed the step and scraped her shin against the door. White agony flared. She held in a sob and scrambled again, up into the seat.

  “Down!” Nick roared.

  Minnie threw herself across the front seat. There was no arguing with the command in his voice. She glanced over her shoulder. There were three men heading for Duardo as he ran to the helicopter.

  She was in the front seat and in his way. She had to make room for him. She got up, intending to climb over to the back like Calli.

  “Minnie, no, stay down,” Nick said sharply.

  A sharp noise, almost like a miniature thunderclap, sounded. Duardo gave a hard exhalation and the cabin shivered as he fell against it. Then the full weight of him landed on her back and legs.

  He was heavy.

  Nick let go of the controls, picked Minnie up around the waist and almost threw her into the back. She spun on the seat, alarm only just starting to filter through her adrenaline-clogged system.

  Then Nick grabbed Duardo, a hand under each arm. He hauled him into the seat, then lunged and snagged the door and shut it.

  “Stay down!” Nick roared.

  Calli pulled her down. Minnie was already hunkered, though. The helicopter lifted and she could feel it moving, although she was more concerned with getting around the seats to check on Duardo. He was silent.

  There was a sharp crack!

  Minnie identified it correctly—she was already learning how to catalogue warfare. It was the sound of a bullet breaking glass.

  “Calli!” Nick said.

  “What?”

  “Pull off your T-shirt. Get it behind him, put pressure on it. Hurry!”

  An instant chill spread through Minnie from her head to her toes. “No! Duardo!” She pulled Calli aside and wriggled her upper body through the seats. Duardo was sprawled in the front seat, his chin on his chest. His eyes were closed. Minnie shook him. “Duardo...?” It was a choked whisper, the best she could manage. What to do? What to do? God, why didn’t she know what to do?

  Calli’s hands were on her waist, tugging at her. Minnie tried to resist. Her athletic cousin picked her up and slammed her against the back wall. Calli’s eyes were large, her face white. “I have to get to him,” she said. She pushed through the seats, leaning on the console in the middle, her legs still dangling in the back. She reached for Duardo.

  Minnie lay stunned. Why didn’t she know what to do? Why couldn’t she help him? Why did everyone else around her have a role and know what was needed? She had never felt more afraid or more useless.

  “No!” Calli shouted. “No!”

  Nick dropped
a hand onto Calli’s shoulder. “Let Minnie through.”

  Minnie closed her eyes. She knew instinctively why Nick was saying that. There was nothing else Calli could do.

  A wail, a childish cry of protest, built in her. She clamped down on it. If she could do nothing else here, she could at least maintain control until it was safe. Until Duardo no longer needed her.

  Calli’s voice was muffled by the seat as she responded to Nick’s command that Minnie be let through. “No. I get the pad on, we get him somewhere where they can do something. Something more.”

  “Calli,” Duardo said. His voice was weak. So weak. “La dama fuerte,” he said. The nickname the army had given Calli, who had saved one of their own. She had saved Duardo. “Thank you for not letting go.”

  Then Nick pushed her aside. Minnie shoved past her cousin and curled around the seat. She was small enough to perch on the console and lay across Duardo’s lap. She smoothed his brow, kissed him and stroked his shoulder. For a moment the huge wave of feelings almost spilled from her. She fought it, pummeled it back deeper. No words would come to her. What did one say in moments like this?

  Useless. Useless. You can’t even comfort the man you love when he’s dying.

  Duardo ruffled her hair. “I regret...” He closed his eyes, took a slow, struggling breath. “English...agh.” Then, “Nick?”

  Behind her, Nick said quietly, “Sí, Duardo?”

  “Digale que yo estaba equivocado...si yo no hubiera insistido en hacer mi deber hubiera sido feliz de ser su esposo...Yo hubiera sido orgullos, aunque siquiera por un solo dia.”

  Duardo’s gaze held hers. Minnie didn’t have to understand the Spanish to know what he was saying. He had said it all in the forest anyway—I will give up my life for you, if you go on.

  The tears came then, tearing at her throat, burning her eyes.

  Nick translated. “Minnie, he said, ‘Tell her I was wrong. If I had not insisted on doing my duty then I would have had the joy of being her husband—’”

  Duardo smiled and his eyes closed. His head rolled gently one side.

  Minnie held back everything but a pathetic noise that escaped her. She had to hear the rest.

  “‘Even a single day...I would have been proud.’” Nick’s voice was thick, flat.

  Minnie buried her head against Duardo’s chest, holding him. It was too much, too overwhelming. For a long while, her mind walked in far-off places, escaping to be with Duardo just a little longer.

  Chapter Three

  “When the helicopter landed,” Minnie told Calli as she drained the last of her coffee, “I could feel Nick pulling me away. I didn’t want to let go of Duardo but, well...” She shrugged and wiped away the tears that had run as she related the story of their forest dash to Calli. Calli had been there at the end, though, and had seen it herself. Minnie didn’t need to explain what happened in the helicopter.

  “That was the last time I saw him, but I swear, Calli, I swear on whatever the hell deity you want to call up, I wasn’t hysterical by then. I wasn’t even upset. It had all gelled over. There was a moment in the helicopter when I could feel it all pushing at me, when I could have let the hysteria out, but I didn’t because I wanted to hold it together for Duardo’s sake. You know?”

  Calli gave her a soft smile. “Strangely, yes, I do know exactly what you mean. I’ve had moments like that myself.”

  “So when I was lying with Duardo, all I was doing was being with him. Taking in each and every sensation, feeling it all, storing it up to remember later, because I knew that was all I was ever going to get. I wanted to remember the feel of him against me, right then, for the rest of my life. So, I was taking notice of everything. It was only later on the yacht when Nick brought us over to Mexico, that I put it all together and it occurred to me that Duardo’s body was too hot for someone who had died at least thirty minutes before.”

  “How would you know how fast a body cools off?”

  Minnie could feel her cheeks warm. “I used to have a thing for Ice-T.”

  Calli figured it out with a chuckle. “You mean Law and Order: Special Victims Unit? You watched that?”

  “Compulsively.”

  Calli’s chuckle faded as she looked over Minnie’s shoulder. Minnie turned around. Carmen had strolled onto the balcony, the jock trailing her.

  Minnie’s defenses slammed into place. What was it about Carmen that got her back up so fast? Everyone except Nick openly adored her. Her appearance was stunning and from the little Minnie had seen and heard, Carmen was so smart she made professors blush. She had graduated summa cum laude from Harvard Law School with a double degree in politics and law. Her English was perfect. Men fell all over themselves to win her attention.

  Perhaps that was it. Carmen used that power to the hilt. Only, she wasn’t using it right now because the jock looked less than happy with her as he hovered near the door to the balcony.

  Carmen came right up to them, stalking with a model’s grace, tossing the waist-length bronzed waves of lustrous hair from her shoulder. “I see you cleared the decks,” she told Minnie. “Not exactly what you were after, huh?”

  Minnie straightened her spine. She was sitting on a backless bench, so it didn’t put her on higher ground when Carmen stood about six inches taller than her in the first place. “I hardly think it’s any of your business, Carmen.”

  “No?” Carmen folded her arms and thrust out a hip. “Let me see, my father, who was the elected President of Vistaria, was assassinated by Insurrectos who are now driving what’s left of the population into poverty and slavery as they try to run the country the way they think it should go. You’re living in my uncle’s house and trying to twist Nick’s arm into sending in a couple of commando teams to rescue one soldier who’s probably dead and if he isn’t, no one knows where he is anyway.” She held up an elegant finger with a long black-lacquered fingernail. “Oh, except he’s inside a country overrun with zealots who shoot first to spare themselves the asking later. Nick won’t send anyone into Vistaria to save living people anymore—it’s too risky. Yet you’re insisting, anyway and jostling his elbow with it while he’s trying to keep what’s left of the real Vistaria held together and working to win back our country. And you’re not even Vistarian. You’re a Californian!” She said it with the rich prejudice of an eastern Ivy-league educated snob.

  “Carmen, really...” Calli murmured. “That’s not fair.”

  “No? Which part of what I said isn’t true?”

  “I didn’t say anything about truth. I said fair.”

  “Truth often isn’t fair. Haven’t you noticed?” Although, Carmen was watching Minnie as she spoke. “Is there anything I said that isn’t my business, Minnie-mouse?”

  Minnie could feel a dull anger throbbing in her gut and her temples. “Are you enjoying yourself, Carmen?”

  “Immensely.” Carmen dropped her pose and took another step forward. She leaned down toward Minnie as if she were about to share a treasured confidence. “Don’t you know anything about how to get a man to do what you want? Screaming at him isn’t the way.”

  Minnie jumped to her feet, furious.

  Carmen threw herself backward, staggering a step or two, to stay out of the way of Minnie’s thrusting head.

  Minnie stalked toward her, too pissed to even care that she had to tip her head back to look Carmen in the eye. “I’ve had enough of you, you arrogant bitch. You and every boy toy you drag in here with you. You think you know how to manipulate men? You haven’t got a fucking clue!”

  “Minnie!” Calli breathed, sounding shocked. Yet laughter colored her voice.

  “Higa de tu chingada madre!” Carmen screamed.

  This time even the jock sucked in a breath, proving he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. He knew his way around Spanish, at least.

  “Who’s the fucking bitch?” Minnie cried. “You’re the one that uses men to try to make Nick mad. You think you’ve got a clue? You’ve got no idea at all. You’re a petty l
ittle girl and your Furstenberg shirt is a cheap knock-off. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  Carmen’s face reddened. “You little whore! I’ll fucking kill you, I swear!”

  Calli tugged at her arm. “Enough, Minnie. God, that’s enough.”

  “What is going on here?” It was Nick’s voice, cold and sharp.

  Carmen spun around. So did Minnie.

  Nick stood at the door to the balcony, his arms crossed. Minnie’s father was behind him, his eyes wide as he glanced from Carmen to her.

  Minnie stayed silent. Let Carmen hang herself. She didn’t give a damn.

  Carmen straightened to her full height, her hands on both hips. Defiant. “We were just talking.”

  Nick nodded. “And now you’ve finished. Find something else to do, Carmen.”

  Carmen’s expression hardened. “How dare you—”

  “Now.” Nick spoke with his usual volume, but the single word throbbed with authority.

  Carmen’s lips thinned. She turned and headed for the door. When she was level with him, Nick grabbed her arm. “Do not ever again use that sort of gutter language when speaking to someone in my household. Do you hear me?” He still did not raise his voice. Minnie shivered anyway.

  Carmen looked him in the eye, as if she intended to argue the matter. Then she gave a sniff and walked over to where the jock hovered by the door. As she passed the small bar she picked up a sealed, full bottle of scotch and tucked it under her arm. She glanced at Nick as she did so, daring him to comment.

  He watched her leave, dragging the jock with her.

  Josh pushed past Nick and hurried over to Minnie. “For god’s sake, Minnie, what were you thinking? She’s just lost her father, her country, her home. Don’t you have any feelings at all?”

  Minnie sank back onto the bench, only now realizing how badly she trembled. “I know,” she said tiredly. Why had she let it rip, right at that moment? It wasn’t as though Carmen hadn’t irritated her all along.

  Calli dropped onto the bench with her. “It was the men comment, wasn’t it?” she said softly.

  Awareness flooded Minnie. She nodded as the last few minutes shifted and meanings became clear. She had blown her stack because Carmen had been right. Minnie did know exactly how to deal with men. How to woo them, how to get them to do what she wanted. It came naturally to her.