Beth Cornelison

The Reunion Mission


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hard and unyielding.

      She bristled a bit at his high-handedness but swallowed the sharp retort that came to mind. Under the circumstances, she’d forgive his bossiness. “Got it.”

      He seized her hand and hauled her with him as he moved to the hole cut in the cage that had imprisoned her. The second man had already carried Tia out and was headed toward the perimeter fence. She scurried through the gap and glanced warily around the dark camp, her heart thundering.

      Two shadowy dark figures lay unmoving in the dirt by the weapons cache, and a sick understanding crawled through her. Her rescuers had killed those men and who knew how many others in order to reach her. Bile rose in her throat, and she fought the urge to vomit.

      As he rose to his feet, her rescuer shoved a cumbersome-looking pair of goggles on his head, then pulled a large handgun from the waist of his fatigues, reinforcing her recognition of his deadly skill. Her breath hung in her lungs. Apprehension shuddered through her.

      Before she could reconcile this lethal soldier with the man who’d kissed her so sweetly and dried her tear moments earlier, he grabbed her arm and ran. She stumbled, trying to keep up with the pace he set, and gritting her teeth, she forced her exercise-deprived legs to move faster. She refused to slow him down, be a hindrance to their escape.

      When they reached the hole cut in the perimeter fence, she had precious seconds to rest while the first man shimmied through the hole on his belly. As they coaxed Tia through the gap, Nicole gasped for breath, already winded. The pitch blackness of the jungle loomed beyond the fence that served not only to keep prisoners in, but also to keep wild animals out. Their escape route lay through that dense, wild terrain.

      “Nicole.” Her rescuer waved her toward the hole in the fence. “Come on, cher.”

      The endearment reverberated in her head as she dropped to her knees in preparation to crawl through the hole. She recognized the colloquial Cajun French term, pronounced sha, which she heard often in her home state. “You’re from Louisiana.”

      He stilled for an instant, and she felt more than saw his gaze boring into hers. “Yes.” Before she could respond, he put a hand on her head and shoved her down. “Go!”

      She did, with Cajun Man at her heels. Already the second man had disappeared into the thick foliage with Tia. Once through the fence, her rescuer dug in his pack and gave her a pair of goggles like the ones he and his partner wore. “Put these on.”

      She obeyed, then marveled at the green images that leaped out of the blackness of the night. Night vision goggles. Of course. She studied him with her newly enhanced vision, but he, too, wore a pair of goggles that obscured her view of his face. The goggles only confirmed for her that he was dark-haired and broad-shouldered and had a heavy layer of stubble covering his cheeks and chin. She’d had little chance to familiarize herself with the goggles before he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the jungle.

      Behind them, a voice shouted in the camp. A warning. An alert. Someone had discovered the dead guards or her empty cage.

      Cajun Man’s hand tightened around hers. “Damn! Go, go, go!”

      Through the overgrown jungle, she heard the rebel encampment waking, engines starting, angry shouts. He tugged her arm, urging her to go faster, and adrenaline fueled her feet.

      Their escape path led them up the steep side of a mountain, and soon her muscles trembled from exertion. Nicole used her free hand to grab limbs and roots, anything she could use to help pull herself up the incline as he hauled her forward by the hand. She couldn’t quit, had to find the strength to press on. Letting the rebel soldiers catch her now would mean certain death.

      Wide-leafed branches slapped at her legs, her face. Around her, the eyes of nocturnal animals glowed in her goggles, and she fought the fear that threatened to suffocate her. She had to keep moving, keep running. Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

      Finally, they reached the top of the incline, and the terrain leveled out. Cajun Man never slowed their pace. The foliage thinned out in places making their progress easier. Many minutes later, when Nicole thought she might drop from exhaustion, he slowed at last and led her behind a wide tree trunk where his partner had stopped with Tia.

      She gulped oxygen and collapsed on the ground beside the little girl. Tia crawled close and buried her head in Nicole’s chest.

      “Where are we?” Cajun Man asked his friend, who’d pulled out a small gadget she couldn’t identify in the dark, even with her night vision goggles.

      “Chopper’s still a couple miles north,” his partner answered.

      Her heart beat so hard she could barely hear their discussion over the pounding pulse in her ears.

      Turning, Cajun Man crouched in front of her and squeezed her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

      She nodded, unable to find the breath to speak.

      “And the kid?” He jerked his head toward Tia.

      “Scared,” Nicole panted. “But … all right.”

      The night vision goggles helped her make out general forms in an unnatural green glow, but the details of Cajun’s and his partner’s appearances were still a mystery. She shoved aside her frustration with not knowing what her rescuers looked like. What did it matter as long as they got her and Tia out of that jungle alive? It didn’t. Yet she couldn’t quash the eerie prickle of familiarity his voice evoked.

      He handed her a flask from his pack. “Drink.”

      She waved his offering away. “I’m okay.”

      “Drink,” he repeated more forcefully, shoving the canteen into her hand. “I can’t have you passing out on me later when I need you to run.”

      Capitulating, she uncapped the flask and tipped it up to her lips. She almost groaned in pleasure as a sweet fruity drink bathed her tongue. An energy drink. How long had it been since she’d had anything but foul water to drink?

      Brushing Tia’s hair back from her eyes, Nicole gave the canteen to the girl and helped her take a sip. When the little girl tasted the sweet drink, she clutched the canteen tighter and tipped it higher for a bigger gulp.

      “Hey!” Cajun snatched the container back. “That’s gotta last until we’re outta here. Those of us who are hoofing it get priority.”

      Tia shrank away from him, huddling closer to Nicole with a whimper.

      Nicole bit back a retort. She had to remember that this man had risked his life to save her and had brought Tia along against his better judgment and despite the limited provisions he’d made. She raised her chin and worked at keeping her voice nonconfrontational. “Could you please try not to scare her? She’s just a kid, and she’s already been through a nightmare.”

      He paused in the act of stashing the canteen in his pack, cast a side-glance to Nicole and heaved an impatient sigh as he shoved to his feet. “Enough rest. Let’s move.” He faced his partner and gave a nod. “Alec?”

      His partner stowed his own canteen and stepped forward to help Nicole to her feet. Cajun Man lifted Tia into his arms and led the way with Nicole following and his partner—Alec, he’d called him—bringing up the rear. Though they were no longer running, they moved at a fast clip, and Nicole had trouble keeping up. The distance between the Cajun and Nicole widened by the minute, until, maybe an hour later, Alec finally cupped his hands around his mouth and made a shrill noise, something between a bird call and monkey. Cajun Man stopped, setting Tia on the ground, and Alec grabbed Nicole’s arm to hustle her forward.

      “This is taking too long,” Cajun Man said as they approached, clearly agitated. “You go on,” he said to Alec. “Take the girl and tell Jake to get the chopper ready. I’ll stay with her, and we’ll be there … whenever.” His tone was full of frustration.

      “Roger that.” Without further discussion, Alec lifted Tia into his arms and disappeared into the jungle