Only in Her Dreams (11 page)

Darius and his men exited the bus to the relief of the increasingly nervous driver. As they walked down the main street of the village, his men flanked him, two on each side; he was glad for the early hour. The sheer size of his men, not to mention the whiteness of their skin, labeled them as outsiders. Then, the chance of any villager giving them information about the man he sought, would be slim.
With luck, I won’t need help locating my target.

“Let’s get to the medical facility,” Darius said. His men, dressed in new dark fatigues with matching steel-toed boots looked official.

Alexander held the crude town map a man on the bus had scribbled for them on the back of an airlines upchuck bag. “This way, Master. The facility is at the end of this road, on the left.”

As they approached, Darius saw that the facility was already open. The line outside confirmed the building was likely the only one within thirty miles. Women and children lined up around the makeshift, mud-packed building; some were sitting and others were standing, but all appeared half-starved. The swollen abdomens of the infants and children were predominant.
Pathetic humans.

To the left of the main building, a smaller hut stood with a sign labeled ‘Office.’ If any information was to be found here, this would be the place.

Darius signaled his men to wait outside and he pushed through the red-stained metal door. The white female who greeted him was unexpected. He expected the facility would be staffed by African women and that the language barrier would be hard to overcome.

The woman stirred something deep in his trousers and a long suppressed memory raged to life within him. He pushed the memories back where they belonged. The resemblance was striking but not completely accurate. He’d been celibate too long and his mind was playing tricks on him.

Her hair was the color of golden thread, her body slim, and her eyes the shade of a meadow in spring. But she was too young, impossibly too young. He forced a smile to his lips in greeting.

“Can I help you, sir?” The melody of her voice brought his eyes from her unnaturally plump lips and to her curious eyes. Their color was close to the one he thought of, but the shape was all wrong. This girl’s eyes were almond shaped, while hers had been round. And so innocent.

“I believe you can, Miss. I’m looking for a man by the name of Greg Flynn. Do you know where I can find him?”

Her stance turned from open and welcoming to guarded and hooded, with the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry. He passed away over a year ago.” She crossed her arms in front of her, flattening her breasts under her shirt.

“Is there a director I can speak with about Mr. Flynn? It’s very important. I’m traveling back to Entebbe tonight to catch a flight to the States,” Darius said, waiting for any look of understanding to cross her face. Her speech pattern was Californian, and he was sure she knew more than she was saying.

“That’s me, Dr. Sandy Adams.” She recovered and smiled.

Not Lauren.

“I’m Agent Lucas of the CIA.” At her acknowledging nod, Darius continued. “It’s come to the attention of the US government that Mr. Flynn didn’t pass away, as you say, but is very much alive. Any information you can pass on will only help with my task.” The mention of the US government should shake the truth out of her. The thought of discontinued financial aid from the United States, for her clinic, would certainly mean doom.

Darius had pegged her right. A smile spread across her face. “Of course Agent Lucas, I’ll give you what information I have.”

Smart girl!

She scurried over to a cabinet against the back wall, and returned with a file that appeared empty. “Dr. Flynn was only here a few weeks before he fell ill and was transported to a larger hospital by the international airport in Entebbe as the file will confirm.” She flipped through the few papers in the file. “While he was here he attended his duties with efficiency and adequate bedside manner. I’m sorry you wasted your time coming all the way here.”

“Thank you, Dr. Adams.” His eyes traveled the length of her hospital scrubs, longing for more of a likeness.
Get your head back in the game. The one I seek is safe, back in Modesto.

She pushed the file in Darius’s direction and turned toward a door marked Eddwaaliro. With file in hand, he followed her to the door and slipped through behind her, before it shut. She must’ve sensed his presence because she whipped around, her golden hair brushed across his face. He hadn’t realized he followed so close. The smell of vanilla filled the space between them.

“Can I help you with something else?” Her voice dripped with a new hostility.

“You don’t mind if I have a look around, do you? Maybe speak to some of the staff who worked alongside Dr. Flynn. They may be able to give me a little insight into his intentions.”

“Intentions, Agent? Dr. Flynn died from malaria. I don’t think anyone can tell you more than I already have.”

“All the same, I’d be remiss not to further investigate the matter.” Darius walked further into the busy clinic. Half-dressed women and children lay on examination tables or sat in chairs around the large room.

Staff members hurried around the room, taking temperatures, handing out food supplement packages and preparing examination tables for new patients. Several white men, who met the age requirement and description of the girl’s husband, roamed the room talked to patients, listened to heartbeats, and studied the inside of ears and throats.

Darius retrieved the folded photo from his jacket pocket. He studied the auburn hair and hazel eyes that stared back at him, a large grin on his face.

Dr. Adams peaked at the picture in his hand. Sweat appeared on her forehead while Darius surveyed the room again. Flynn wasn’t hard to spot with his auburn hair, pale skin and hazel eyes. Darius started in his direction as the man moved between patients.

“Agent Lucas, what’ll it take for you to walk away, report that he wasn’t here, and put an end to this?” Dr. Adams clutched at his arm as he continued his trek across the room. He heard the slight scraping as her shoes dug into the floor, seeking a purchase. He ached to sweep her into his arms and take her somewhere they could have a private moment.

“Are you attempting to bribe a US Special Agent?” he asked, never taking his eyes off his target.

When she didn’t respond, he turned his hardened gaze to her face. Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes.
What in the hell is going on?
Fortunately, whatever she was crying about didn’t concern him.

He was there to retrieve the man.

And his mission would succeed.

He had a new kingdom balanced on the outcome. Not to mention, one evil fucker expected him to fail.

# # #

The Melas surrounded Dr. Flynn and Adams in a small conference room off the back of the clinic office. His men blocked the only exit, their military stance intimidating. They’d not been able to separate the two doctors, which would be necessary to convince Flynn to join their mission. A small smile crossed Darius’ face as he thought about the methods they would use to convince Flynn to cooperate, if necessary.

I don’t mind having a few more hours to admire Dr. Adams womanly charms.

“Agent Lucas, I’m just a doctor. I wanted to start a new life here in Uganda, free of my responsibilities back home. I want to dedicate my life to helping the less fortunate, surely you understand. I didn’t hurt or defraud anyone. There was no life insurance policy. Faking my death was the only way to move on without continually looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to find me and think I’d deceived someone,” Flynn pleaded.

Darius didn’t give a crap about his deception, his fake death, or his responsibilities. What mattered even less was the man’s need to help the less fortunate. But Darius let Flynn drone on and on, allowing him to think he was about to be hauled back to the States to face charges.

“Dr. Flynn, you’re coming with us, immediately. Please gather your things and prepare to depart.” The man would get suspicious if he didn’t let him retrieve a few belongings before they left Gayaza. His men had procured a private jeep they would use to return to Entebbe.

A local was more than willing to give up his vehicle to help the United States of America. The Melas may have also promised him passage to the States.

The pair stood in place, neither making a move toward their accommodations to retrieve Flynn’s things. Dr. Adams’s nervous eyes slid to Flynn’s pale, frightened face. The look that passed between the two wasn’t foreign to Darius.

I had that look once. What a fucking idiot I’d been.

The two thought themselves in love. How disappointing. He wanted to shout at Flynn. Tell him it would end in hurt when Adams told him he wasn’t good enough, didn’t have a means of supporting her adequately for her standards. She’d convince him to give up everything he had, betray the ones who care about him...only to walk away when the game got old.
Cock sucking bitch!

It was Adams who finally spoke. The pout that formed on her lips added to the hardness in his pants.

What he could do to those lips. What he would have done to
her
lips.

Darius loved a woman who begged. “Sir, please reconsider taking Greg. We’re getting married next month and my family is flying in to be here.”

“Your Greg will be long gone by then,” one of his men said from behind the couple. The other men chuckled and Darius found himself laughing along with them.

Confusion, and then understanding, passed over the couples faces. They’d probably have to get rid of Adams, if Flynn didn’t cooperate. What a waste, Darius thought.

“Can I see your badge, Agent Lucas?” Flynn asked.

“Dr. Flynn, I’m the one who makes the demands.” Darius turned to Alexander. “Please escort the love birds back to their lodging and help them pack a few things.”

“Yes, Master.”

# # #

Greg had feared this day would come. Since he and Sandy hatched their plan to fake his death he’d worried. He knew someone, someday would come, but he hadn’t expected it this soon. They planned to move the clinic another sixty miles north in the next two years, breaking ties with everyone in Gayaza and leaving no trail to follow.

I don’t want my time with her to end.
His heart twisted in agony. He’d felt little remorse when he’d left Lucessa.

Thankfully, he’d met Sandy and she helped him escape his old life. His only regret had been leaving his dog, Goosey, behind. He thought initially he would have no choice but to return after his six-month internship. But he’d fallen in love--with both a different country and a different woman. He had no other regrets.

Something seemed off about these men. They were too big, their clothes weren’t what he pictured CIA agents wearing, and he was sure they were required to show some form of identification. Why would the United States send five agents to bring him back?

Four men followed Sandy and him down the crowded main street of the village, past the market and into their room above the local clothing depot. They walked into the one-room place they’d called home for almost a year. The men crowded in behind them, apparently fearing he and Sandy would escape through one of the two windows.

Sandy hurried around the room, gathering a couple changes of clothes and their essentials including toothbrushes, toothpaste, hair brush, and a few favorite medical books. Greg didn’t know how she kept a level head through the situation. He’d always been the weak one in his relationship with Lucessa, she took care of everything. The bills, chores at home, scheduling doctor’s appointments, setting up car insurance-- everything was taken care of. Now, Sandy filled the void he’d forced Lucessa to vacate.

“Let’s move it,” one of the men called behind him. Greg reluctantly jumped in to help Sandy gather the last few things and zipped up the two bags.

“We’re ready,” Sandy said, grabbing both bags. Greg took the one Sandy held out to him.

“We? Darius won’t like this,” muttered the guy who addressed Agent Lucas as master. There was something off with the man, a soullessness in his eyes. A chill ran down Greg’s body despite the extreme heat in the apartment.

# # #

Darius waited for his men to bring Flynn outside the clinic where their newly commandeered jeep waited.

They returned down the main road, escorting not only Flynn, but the woman.
Why can’t my men follow simple orders?
He saw the smiles on all their faces.

“Master, the woman insists on accompanying us to the States.”

What a lucky turn of events.

“By all means, we’d welcome the company of a woman on our return trip,” he purred in response. “Alexander, help our guests into the backseat.”

Alexander swung his arm in a wide arc toward the passenger side door and he pulled it open. Sandy’s face paled and she swayed on her feet, Flynn grasped her elbow to steady her.

Darius climbed into the front driver seat and Alexander squeezed in between Greg and Sandy. Zach and Lance climbed in the back with Colin taking the passenger seat. The jeep strained under the weight. Darius started the vehicle and it moved slowly at first and then picked up speed. Rocks pelted the exterior of the clinic when Darius revved the engine and sped down the main street and back toward civilization.

The previously four-hour trip lasted only two with the jeep and with no stops along the way. There was little talk between his men, but Flynn and Adams frequently leaned their heads over Alexander and communicated in hushed tones.

The sun was starting its descent when Flynn asked, “Can we pull over?” A nervousness in his voice.

“We’re still a couple miles from Entebbe,” Darius responded.

“I need to go pee.”

“My men could use a break for the little boy’s room, too,” Darius said and a cheer rose from the back. The men piled out of the jeep and the vehicle’s suspension rose three inches relieved of the weight. “Alexander, keep a watch on the good doctor while he relieves himself.” Darius leaned on the jeep. The hot evening sun beat against his back, penetrating his black shirt.