shook her head.
Zach stared at her. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, until she felt as if he were digging down to her soul. A muscle in his cheek twitched.
Look again, idiot.
He didn’t say the words. He didn’t have to. She could clearly read his irritation.
Once again she raised the binoculars and stared at the trees, then the plants, then the path. There wasn’t anyone there.
She wanted to elbow Zach Jones right below his rib cage. She knew where and how to do it, too. High and hard, so all of his air rushed out and his diaphragm convulsed a couple of times before relaxing enough to let him suck in a breath.
Her track coach had shown her how, her sophomore year in high school. She’d run cross-country with the boys’ team because there hadn’t been enough interested females to form a girls’ team. Those long bus rides would have been impossible if she hadn’t known how to take care of herself. She’d learned quickly. It wasn’t difficult. She was a jock by nature, preferring a pickup basketball game to shopping or attending dance class.
But she knew if she tried to elbow Zach, he would get her in a headlock that would cut off her air so fast, she would see stars. Besides, as annoying and hurtful as she found him, he wasn’t the enemy. He was in charge of the mission.
When she’d scanned everything a third time, she lowered her binoculars and shook her head again. Zach’s mouth twisted with impatience. He clamped his hand on the top of her head and turned her until she was staring to the far left. He pointed to a tree that had broken in half. The charred trunk looked as if it had been struck by lightning. Or a bomb.
He gave her a quick, painful squeeze as if to say, There, you dumb recruit.
She stared hard, then bit back a gasp. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, nearly hidden by the shadows, was a man. Zach had found him without the benefit of binoculars. Geez, he was better than everyone had said, and the rumors made him a living legend. She wanted to scream with frustration. Just once she would like to impress Zach and have the last word.
Zach motioned for her to slide back. She worked her knees and forearms, crawling along the ground, trying not to think about creepy or slithery things. Thick air swirled around her, making her sweat. A drop fell into her eyes, and she blinked away the accompanying burn.
They slipped silently through the jungle. When they were about two hundred feet from the man, Zach stood up. Before Jamie could scramble into a standing position, he grabbed her by the backpack and pulled her upright.
“I don’t need your help,” she said as she staggered a step or two to find her balance, then dropped the binoculars around her neck.
“Yeah, right.”
He dismissed her as easily as he’d dismissed the snake. It had been like that from the beginning. Zach Jones had told her the first day of training that he believed women were smarter than men, that they thought faster on their feet and they followed orders better. But that didn’t mean they made good field agents. Women didn’t have the gut instinct to kill. It had to be taught. And more times than not, they hesitated before ending a life. That hesitation was expensive, for them and for the team. If anyone hesitated, everyone might die.
She’d stood before him then, arms stiff at her side, her chin raised. “I won’t hesitate, sir,” she’d said firmly.
“You won’t be here long enough for it to be an issue.”
But he’d been wrong about that. She’d survived the six-month training course. She’d mastered weapons, communications, map reading and an assortment of electronic and computerized equipment. She was one of the best trainees the agency had ever had. She’d worked hard to build her upper-body strength, but she hadn’t known how to develop her killer instinct. She knew it, and Zach knew it.
He was good-looking enough to tempt a statue. She’d developed a crush the first week of training, then had tried to bury it under hard work. She’d done everything Zach ever asked and more, but he’d never acknowledged her effort. Or her. Occasionally he’d gone for a drink with the guys, but she’d never been invited. She was done trying to make Zach notice or like her. Jamie had been looking forward to seeing the last of Zach Jones. After graduation she’d gotten her first assignment. With him.
Zach plowed through the jungle. When she would have stopped to study her compass, he moved quickly, as if the path were familiar. She didn’t even see a path.
Life was all around them. Plants, bugs, snakes, small creatures that rustled the leaves on the ground. Only the birds were silent, alert and watchful. She wasn’t fond of the jungle. Why couldn’t insurrection happen in the desert, which she was familiar with, or better yet in the mountains? She’d always wanted to go to the mountains.
She pictured a cool stream washing over shiny rocks. Unfortunately, at the same moment, she stopped paying attention to the path in front of her. She tripped over a half-hidden tree root and tumbled toward the ground.
Zach caught her before she fell. He jerked on her backpack, pulling at her shoulders. With his other hand, he grabbed her arm. His fingers bit into her sore muscles.
“That one is poisonous,” he said when he released her. She glanced in the direction he pointed and saw a brightly colored snake slither away.
She looked up at him. Good manners dictated that she thank him. No matter how hard he made it, he’d just saved her life. Her heart pounded loud and fast in her chest. Her breathing was labored. The physical reaction was as much to seeing the deadly snake as to the exertions of hiking through the killer heat.
The hell with good manners. “If you dislike me so much, why didn’t you ask to have me transferred to another assignment?” she asked.
“I requested you, Sanders.”
Of course. It made sense. “So you could drum me out.” It wasn’t a question.
Jamie was nearly five-nine, but Zach was a good six inches taller than her. He outweighed her by fifty pounds. He was as friendly as an iceberg and as animated as a building. He was good-looking enough to never lack for female companionship, but Jamie knew that inside, Zach Jones was nothing but a black hole. Which made the slightly romantic feelings she had when she was around him even more frustrating. The man obviously hated her.
“I don’t think you have what it takes,” he said.
“You told me I wouldn’t graduate and you were wrong.”
“Now we’re out in the real world. No second chances.”
She flinched, knowing he was referring to her appeal on failing the obstacle course. “I see. And you wanted to be here to watch me blow it.”
“I’m here to get the job done, Sanders. Nothing more. Quit trying to make it personal.”
“Requesting me specifically is personal.”
They stood there, staring at each other. She could feel sweat collecting on her face and dripping down her back. Zach looked cool and comfortable. If she thought she could have gotten away with it, she would have elbowed him in the midsection and left him for snake bait.
His dark gaze searched her face, then he gave her one of his mocking smiles. “Why don’t you find camp for us?” he said, and stepped back to let her lead.
“My pleasure, sir.” She pulled her compass out of her pants pocket and glanced at it. Then she checked the sun. Her stomach was acting up again. She knew it was from that last encounter with a snake. It had to be. She refused to be affected by Zach Jones’s low opinion of her.
Jamie found their base camp without a problem. Once there, she slipped off her heavy backpack and poured herself a glass of water from one of the plastic containers they’d brought with them.
Their mission was simple. Collect information on certain known bands of guerrilla soldiers, including their whereabouts and numbers. They were not to confront