Darkest Before Dawn
Page 23
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“Bad mojo,” Mojo said, shaking his head as he looked at the swollen knee Hancock was being a lot more careful with now.
“A New Era controls the airspace here,” Hancock found himself explaining. As if she deserved answers. Fuck. It was as close to an actual apology as possible without actually telling her he was sorry. He continued, though his voice was still tight with anger. No longer at her, though. At himself for feeling the need to explain himself to anyone. And for taking out his anger and frustration on her. Hurting her unintentionally. “They have weapons capable of bringing down a fighter jet. A chopper would be child’s play for them. We have to circumvent their area of control, and it’s wide and growing wider with every day, before we can risk traveling by air. So until such time as it’s safe, we’ll be traveling on the ground.”
“But why are we moving away from the border?” she asked, no accusation in her voice this time. Just genuine puzzlement.
Maybe he should just wash his hands of her and make Conrad take over the job as her babysitter. She clearly wasn’t intimidated by Hancock, which pissed him off and bruised his male ego more than he’d like to admit. Conrad, however, hated everyone and didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. He gave his loyalty and regard to his team. No one else. And Hancock was the only other person in the world Conrad took orders from and followed. He hadn’t been any happier than Hancock about being sent like fucking errand boys to round up a woman who’d ended up taking up far too much time and effort on their part.
“Let’s pretend for a moment that you got lucky and were able to get past the men surrounding the village waiting for you—which you wouldn’t have. But suppose you did and made it to the border, where you assumed you’d be home free. You would have been nailed within a mile of crossing into the next country. A child could have predicted your destination. The shortest distance between two points, your attack and what you perceived as freedom, is a straight line. The nearest American presence. And once past the border you would have thought you were home free when in fact, apart from the fact that A New Era’s minions are everywhere, a huge bounty was placed on your head, along with the fact that you were heading to the border being broadcasted far and wide. Any number of people would have been lined up, lying in wait, only too eager to hand you over to the enemy.”
Anger simmered in her eyes and her features tightened. Her fingers curled into tight fists atop her thighs, and he had the passing thought that she was tempted to punch him. He almost laughed.
“You think I survived this long by being stupid?” she hissed. “That I’m a childish idiot who would think that crossing a mere border would somehow make me impervious to capture or harm? I’m a woman alone, traveling alone. Even were I not hunted by a group of assholes I would still be at risk from any number of other sources. I would never have let my guard down—and I still won’t—until I’m on a plane back home.”
Her chin came up, a defiant, challenging gesture as she issued the warning that she didn’t trust him or his motives. No, she wasn’t stupid. Never once had he thought that. Stupid would have been throwing herself in his arms and at his mercy and never questioning, just assuming that he had come to save her. Stupid would have gotten her captured within hours of her digging herself out of the rubble. Stupid did not survive over a week in a hot, barren, unfamiliar land with no one to help you but yourself.
“This is a pointless and childish argument,” he said, purposely using her own words against her. “The border is being watched and heavily patrolled. The area between the border and anyone remotely friendly to your cause will be barricaded and sealed. And we’ll get our asses shot down if we attempt to fly a helo out of here. Now, have I satisfied your ridiculous curiosity so we can stop wasting time?”
“Of course. What right do I have to know anything that affects my safety or that could get me killed? Yep, that’s childish of me all right. By all means, oh lord and master. Lead on. I just hope to hell you know what you’re doing because so far you’ve left a lot to be desired. I’ve heard a lot of talking, but no proof that anything you say is the truth.”
CHAPTER 8
HONOR’S entire body hurt. Her head and knee ached vilely as they bumped their way over land without an established road, kicking up a dust cloud that could be seen for miles. They didn’t seem overly concerned with their visibility, and she wondered why they hadn’t opted to travel under the cover of dark as she had. It had certainly kept her alive this long.
She didn’t remember the pain being this severe, but then she’d become very adept at pushing it away and denying its existence. There had been no other choice, because to stop or even hesitate would mean her capture. Now that she was somewhat removed from the immediate threat of discovery at all times, it was as though her mind could no longer block the screams of her body.
Several times, Honor would have sworn that Hancock and the fierce, uncommunicative man on the other side of her protected her from the worst of the bumps by steadying her body with their own. But it was likely her imagination. They were being thrown around just as she was. There was no softness in them. And they’d certainly given her no reason to believe she was anything more than a nuisance, a mission they’d likely objected to and had only carried out under strict orders.
But from whom? Had word spread of her survival? Did the U.S. government care enough about one lowly relief worker to risk some of their finest men, or worse, starting an unofficial war with A New Era? Or had her story reached the media and swept across the world in sensationalistic style, forcing the United States to act? And God, what must her family be enduring? She wanted to asked Hancock if there was a way they could be contacted. Just to let them know she was alive. But no, that would be cruel. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, and to give them false hope only for her to end up dead after all would be terrible for them.
She wanted answers, but these men were as tightlipped as they came. Hancock didn’t even answer her more innocuous questions without making it a federal issue. As if her fate wasn’t something she had a right to know.
Anger blazed through her veins all over again at his domineering, asshole demeanor. But was she doing just as he’d insinuated? No, he hadn’t insinuated anything. He’d very bluntly told her she was looking a gift horse in the mouth. A good bedside demeanor was purely optional. If they got her out of the country and on her way back home, they could all be flaming assholes for all she cared.
“How badly are you hurting?”
Hancock’s soft question startled her, breaking the silence that had descended in the interior of the off-road vehicle. She couldn’t help but swing her head toward him in surprise, wondering if she’d imagined the question. Or the actual . . . concern . . . in his voice. Surely she’d imagined that part at least.
Turning so fast made her promptly regret doing so. Pain speared through her head and suddenly black dots swam in her vision, her surroundings growing dim, fading almost to black.
Hancock swore and then suddenly she found herself eased downward, her head coming to rest gently on Hancock’s lap. The other man lifted her legs and positioned them across his lap so that she lay between the two men.
“You didn’t tell me you had a head injury. Just the knee injury,” Hancock said grimly.
“A New Era controls the airspace here,” Hancock found himself explaining. As if she deserved answers. Fuck. It was as close to an actual apology as possible without actually telling her he was sorry. He continued, though his voice was still tight with anger. No longer at her, though. At himself for feeling the need to explain himself to anyone. And for taking out his anger and frustration on her. Hurting her unintentionally. “They have weapons capable of bringing down a fighter jet. A chopper would be child’s play for them. We have to circumvent their area of control, and it’s wide and growing wider with every day, before we can risk traveling by air. So until such time as it’s safe, we’ll be traveling on the ground.”
“But why are we moving away from the border?” she asked, no accusation in her voice this time. Just genuine puzzlement.
Maybe he should just wash his hands of her and make Conrad take over the job as her babysitter. She clearly wasn’t intimidated by Hancock, which pissed him off and bruised his male ego more than he’d like to admit. Conrad, however, hated everyone and didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. He gave his loyalty and regard to his team. No one else. And Hancock was the only other person in the world Conrad took orders from and followed. He hadn’t been any happier than Hancock about being sent like fucking errand boys to round up a woman who’d ended up taking up far too much time and effort on their part.
“Let’s pretend for a moment that you got lucky and were able to get past the men surrounding the village waiting for you—which you wouldn’t have. But suppose you did and made it to the border, where you assumed you’d be home free. You would have been nailed within a mile of crossing into the next country. A child could have predicted your destination. The shortest distance between two points, your attack and what you perceived as freedom, is a straight line. The nearest American presence. And once past the border you would have thought you were home free when in fact, apart from the fact that A New Era’s minions are everywhere, a huge bounty was placed on your head, along with the fact that you were heading to the border being broadcasted far and wide. Any number of people would have been lined up, lying in wait, only too eager to hand you over to the enemy.”
Anger simmered in her eyes and her features tightened. Her fingers curled into tight fists atop her thighs, and he had the passing thought that she was tempted to punch him. He almost laughed.
“You think I survived this long by being stupid?” she hissed. “That I’m a childish idiot who would think that crossing a mere border would somehow make me impervious to capture or harm? I’m a woman alone, traveling alone. Even were I not hunted by a group of assholes I would still be at risk from any number of other sources. I would never have let my guard down—and I still won’t—until I’m on a plane back home.”
Her chin came up, a defiant, challenging gesture as she issued the warning that she didn’t trust him or his motives. No, she wasn’t stupid. Never once had he thought that. Stupid would have been throwing herself in his arms and at his mercy and never questioning, just assuming that he had come to save her. Stupid would have gotten her captured within hours of her digging herself out of the rubble. Stupid did not survive over a week in a hot, barren, unfamiliar land with no one to help you but yourself.
“This is a pointless and childish argument,” he said, purposely using her own words against her. “The border is being watched and heavily patrolled. The area between the border and anyone remotely friendly to your cause will be barricaded and sealed. And we’ll get our asses shot down if we attempt to fly a helo out of here. Now, have I satisfied your ridiculous curiosity so we can stop wasting time?”
“Of course. What right do I have to know anything that affects my safety or that could get me killed? Yep, that’s childish of me all right. By all means, oh lord and master. Lead on. I just hope to hell you know what you’re doing because so far you’ve left a lot to be desired. I’ve heard a lot of talking, but no proof that anything you say is the truth.”
CHAPTER 8
HONOR’S entire body hurt. Her head and knee ached vilely as they bumped their way over land without an established road, kicking up a dust cloud that could be seen for miles. They didn’t seem overly concerned with their visibility, and she wondered why they hadn’t opted to travel under the cover of dark as she had. It had certainly kept her alive this long.
She didn’t remember the pain being this severe, but then she’d become very adept at pushing it away and denying its existence. There had been no other choice, because to stop or even hesitate would mean her capture. Now that she was somewhat removed from the immediate threat of discovery at all times, it was as though her mind could no longer block the screams of her body.
Several times, Honor would have sworn that Hancock and the fierce, uncommunicative man on the other side of her protected her from the worst of the bumps by steadying her body with their own. But it was likely her imagination. They were being thrown around just as she was. There was no softness in them. And they’d certainly given her no reason to believe she was anything more than a nuisance, a mission they’d likely objected to and had only carried out under strict orders.
But from whom? Had word spread of her survival? Did the U.S. government care enough about one lowly relief worker to risk some of their finest men, or worse, starting an unofficial war with A New Era? Or had her story reached the media and swept across the world in sensationalistic style, forcing the United States to act? And God, what must her family be enduring? She wanted to asked Hancock if there was a way they could be contacted. Just to let them know she was alive. But no, that would be cruel. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, and to give them false hope only for her to end up dead after all would be terrible for them.
She wanted answers, but these men were as tightlipped as they came. Hancock didn’t even answer her more innocuous questions without making it a federal issue. As if her fate wasn’t something she had a right to know.
Anger blazed through her veins all over again at his domineering, asshole demeanor. But was she doing just as he’d insinuated? No, he hadn’t insinuated anything. He’d very bluntly told her she was looking a gift horse in the mouth. A good bedside demeanor was purely optional. If they got her out of the country and on her way back home, they could all be flaming assholes for all she cared.
“How badly are you hurting?”
Hancock’s soft question startled her, breaking the silence that had descended in the interior of the off-road vehicle. She couldn’t help but swing her head toward him in surprise, wondering if she’d imagined the question. Or the actual . . . concern . . . in his voice. Surely she’d imagined that part at least.
Turning so fast made her promptly regret doing so. Pain speared through her head and suddenly black dots swam in her vision, her surroundings growing dim, fading almost to black.
Hancock swore and then suddenly she found herself eased downward, her head coming to rest gently on Hancock’s lap. The other man lifted her legs and positioned them across his lap so that she lay between the two men.
“You didn’t tell me you had a head injury. Just the knee injury,” Hancock said grimly.
