WAR: Disruption (13 page)

He slept for a couple hours. To his surprise, Emily was still asleep when he woke up.

Deciding to let her rest, he reached into the passenger seat for the map and spotted her camera lying on the floorboard. Curious as to how her shots came out, he picked it up. Noticing that the battery was low, he swapped it out for the one she’d left charging on the dashboard in its solar panel pouch. After removing a container of stew and fried plantains from the supplies Rene had provided, he flipped the camera on while he ate. The first photo on the LCD screen must have been from Emily’s homestay. It showed her and a local woman grinning at the camera, both with native cloth wrapped around their bodies. Regretting that he hadn’t personally seen such joy on Emily’s face, he scrolled forward.

More people, this time without Emily present. A village. Workers at a palm oil plantation. The jungle. Another village. The jungle with a white blob in the background. A few villa—

Wait a sec.

Max scrolled back. What was it that had snagged his attention. The people?

No.

He took a good, long look at each of the photos until he came to the ones of the jungle. There. Peeking out from behind some palmetto fronds. Something white. Manmade.

Like the piece of a plane.

EMILY AWOKE, ONCE again, to a hand on her shoulder and someone calling her name.

“C’mon, Emily. Wake up.”

She blinked, squinted against the sunlight and realized that she was lying in the cargo area of the Jeep, with Max leaning over her. He’d removed his baseball cap, and the intensity of the expression on his face had her sitting upright.
Danger.

From Max? No. He might be at the center of much of the violence of the past few days, but he’d also saved her life. He’d stuck around to make certain she was safe when he could have just dumped her at the embassy and driven away. No matter what trouble he was mixed up in, he wouldn’t hurt her. So that meant there was an external threat. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, then grinned. “Nothing. In fact, for the first time in days, something is right.” He held out her camera.

“Hey! What are you doing with that?” She reached for it, but Max kept the camera just out of her reach.

“Come outside. I need you to tell me where you took a couple of these photos. It’s important.”

“Why?”

Max just shook his head. “Finish waking up and go do…” He waved toward the bushes. “…whatever you need to do. We’ll talk when you’re finished.”

Wondering what bee was up his butt, she waited until he’d walked around to the front of the Jeep before she slipped outside. A few minutes later, wishing she had coffee to truly wake her up, she joined Max. He’d spread one of the maps over the hood and frowned as he glanced between the map and her camera. A plastic bowl of bean stew and fried plantains held one side of the map down. When Max heard her approach, he thrust a spoon at her and nodded toward the food. “Eat while we talk.”

Surprised that Dr. LaSalle had provided a full meal, she took a few bites, then crossed her arms over her chest and gave Max the evil eye. “Why were you going through my photos?”

He shrugged, unrepentant. “Curiosity. I wanted to see what you’d put together.” He jiggled the camera. “You’ve got a good eye. Some of these are professional quality.”

Her cheeks heated, but she wasn’t going to let his praise derail her. “Thanks. So what’s so important that you had to wake me up?”

Max showed her the LCD screen of the camera. The shot was of a section of jungle framing a brilliant red flowering plant. “Wait…” She turned the camera, then pointed to a spot on the right. “What’s that there? That white bit?”

“I think it’s part of a plane.”

She studied the photo. The white object did seem to be manmade and slightly rectangular, but it could have been anything. “What makes you think that?”

Max hesitated.

“The truth, Max. Don’t even think about lying to me.”

When he still seemed reluctant to speak, she let out a frustrated growl. “Max, I’ve witnessed my friends being gunned down, have run for my life through the jungle, have missed the last flight out of the country, and have been forced to run for my life
again
from trigger-happy rebels. I think I deserve to know just what the hell is going on!”

“Emily, trust me, it’s safer if you don’t know. Just tell me where you took this photo and once you’re safely over the border you can forget the whole thing.”

She leaned forward until her nose almost touched his. “Is this photo one of the reasons Crystal was shot?”

Max stepped back until there was more than a foot between them. “I don’t know. Ziegler has a personal grudge against me. But…” He glanced down at the camera. “Maybe the shooting was more strategic than I thought. Maybe he saw your friend, thought she looked like me, and shot her in a calculated move meant to stop me from finding the plane. Maybe he didn’t fire in a fit of anger.”

She jabbed at his chest with her fingertip. “Whatever it is you’re involved in, I want to know about it. I
need
to know why Crystal and Sue died. You owe me.” It was a low move, but she didn’t care. She was tired of being kept in the dark. She snatched the camera. “If you don’t tell me, then oops, I guess the photos are going to be erased and my memory will suddenly become faulty.”

She had no idea where such tough words came from, but they had the desired effect. He glowered at her. She raised her eyebrow and stared him down.

Finally, he looked away. Gave a deep sigh. Returned his attention to her with a frown of resignation. “Tell me where you shot the photo, then I’ll explain everything while we’re driving. Time is short.”

“Where are we?”

He raised a brow at her change of subject. “Still on the minor road. We should be coming up to the crossroads with the main north-south road soon.”

“Then let’s get on the road. All of those photos were taken during my homestay, so we have miles before we’re anywhere near the area. You explain first, then I’ll figure out where exactly I took the photos.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “You’re tougher than you look, Ms. Emily Iwasaki.”

His words warmed her, but she refused to let him see her softening. “Well? Do we have a deal?”

He nodded. “Yes, but there’s only so much I can tell you.”

She started to protest, but he cut her off.

“It’s for your own protection. If, God forbid, you’re captured, the less you know the better. I’ll tell you enough that you understand the danger we’re in, but no more.” He held out his hand to shake. “Do we still have a deal?”

She hesitated, then took his hand. To her shock, he pulled her in close. “I like you,” he whispered as her body rested flush against him. “It’s dangerous and probably stupid, but I have to know…” Before she could ask what, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

It wasn’t a polite kiss. He plundered, demanding she let him inside. With a little groan—it had been so long since she’d been kissed—she opened her lips. Mmm… He tasted delicious. The lingering taste of spices from the stew mixed with a rich, intoxicating taste that was unique to Max. Strong. Passionate. Dangerous.

Probably addictive.

This sudden flare of arousal didn’t make sense. He was keeping things from her. Being around him put her in Ziegler’s sights. Yet instead of backing away, she leaned into him. Because there was just something about Max’s brand of danger she couldn’t resist. That made her blood sing.

Max jerked away from her, breathing heavily. “Ah…” He ran his hand over his hair.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

He blinked in surprise.

“Despite my outburst yesterday, I don’t hate you, Max. Or didn’t you notice that I kissed you back?”

“Um.” He ran his hand unsteadily over his hair again.

She’d never seen him so off balance. It was kind of endearing.

“I might not fully trust you,” she said, “but I know you won’t hurt me.”

“Good. That’s good, because I wouldn’t. I won’t. I would never have hitched a ride with the tro-tro if I thought Ziegler would follow me and two innocent women would die.”

She nodded, seeing the remorse and the grief that he probably thought he kept hidden. She felt a stab of regret that she’d lashed out at him yesterday. Yes, Ziegler had killed Crystal because of her resemblance to Max, but Emily hadn’t seen any headlights behind the tro-tro to indicate that Max had been followed that night. He hadn’t known he was putting anyone in immediate danger. “I believe you. Now, I think we’d better get on the road so you can start that explanation.”

“SO, TALK,” EMILY said fifteen minutes later, once they’d merged onto the road.

“Here are the basics.” Max’s fingers tightened on the wheel, then slowly relaxed. “Ziegler, the white man who shot your friend, is the right-hand man to an international arms and intelligence dealer named Heinrich Dietrich. Dietrich is wanted by a number of different governments, but he’s always eluded capture.”

“See, I knew you weren’t a history professor,” Emily muttered.

“Not true.” He gave her a smug smile. “Technically, I’m on the faculty of a small midwestern college. I’ve even published a couple of what you called dry treatises on the relationship between folklore and the social, political, and economic organization of today’s societies. But you’re right, that’s not my real job.” He took a deep breath. “I used to work for the government. Not the CIA, but that’s all I’m going to say. Now… You could say I’m a freelancer. Long story short, there’s an underground movement working against the rebels. Some of my former coworkers have joined this group and they’ve asked me to help locate a plane that went down in the area near where the tro-tro picked me up.”

“And you think that the white piece in my photo is part of this plane.”

“Yes.”

“So, what’s so important about the plane that this underground group is looking for it? Isn’t that the job of the local government?”

Max snorted. “Right. As if the government doesn’t have enough to worry about with the rebels.” He shook his head. “Even before the rebels attacked the capital, this wasn’t a situation the local government could handle. According to my contact, the plane was carrying the prototype and plans to a new, powerful weapon. Dietrich has brokered the sale of the prototype to an unknown buyer. The prototype is believed to be active and capable of killing thousands and is supposed to be turned over in—” Max checked his watch. “Eight days.”

“So, you were searching for this plane when you hitched the ride with the tro-tro? You escorted me all the way to the capital even though it took you away from your search?” Maybe she’d completely misjudged him.

“No. I was just trying to get to my friend in that deserted village we found. I wanted a safe place to rest and heal after being…ah…a prisoner of Ziegler’s for several days.”

His whole body tensed and Emily thought back to the bruises on his face when she’d first met him. It didn’t take much stretch of the imagination to suspect he’d been beaten, probably even tortured.

“I knew Dietrich had a deal scheduled, but I didn’t know what type of weapon was involved. Once I’d rested for a day or two, I was going to head north again and restart my investigation. I didn’t find out about the plane crash until after we got to the safe house in the capital.”

She stared out the window. There were several other vehicles on the road, but traffic was nowhere near as heavy as it had been leaving the capital. “Now you’re stuck getting me over the border, delaying your search.”

“I’m not going to abandon you, Emily,” he said testily.

Not after that kiss
hung unspoken between them.

“Maybe you should.” Her pulse increased and she felt her stomach drop, but if this missing weapon got into the wrong hands she didn’t have to be a genius to understand that innocent people would die. “Maybe we should stop at the way station and see if anyone in these other vehicles would be willing to take me over the border.”

Max’s jaw clenched, then relaxed. “I… I don’t want to leave you in the care of strangers.”

She felt another spark of warmth and a sense of connection to him. That maybe he also wasn’t looking forward to separating.

“As a white lady, you’d bring danger to anyone who gave you a ride.”

Oh. The warmth vanished.

“But if we can find someone willing to hide you in the back of a truck, then maybe that’s best.” He shrugged. “We won’t know until we get there.” He gestured toward the camera. “Your turn. Where’d you take the photos?”

Hiding her disappointment that his reluctance to leave her had nothing to do with liking her and not wanting to say good-bye, Emily scrolled through the pictures, using the shots with people in them as a point of reference. She compared the dates on the camera to the notes she’d made in her day planner. “Okay, it looks like the photos you’re interested in were taken at a village near my homestay. It was a festival day, so we left at dawn and walked for two hours in order to get to the other village in time for the first of the activities. That day was the first time I performed the local dances in front of an audience.” Her homestay mother, Prudence, had provided Emily with a bright blue and yellow tribal costume to match her own. Emily had been so nervous about performing in front of strangers. Would they find it insulting that an Asian American girl was trying to learn their dances? Would they stare at her scars and pity her?

But her fears hadn’t been realized. The women in the other village had been thrilled that the
obruni
girl was interested in learning their culture. Her scars had actually broken through the shyness of some of the women, and Emily had received plenty of advice on how best to keep the skin supple. Huh. She touched her neck. She’d been so busy running for her life that she’d forgotten about the plastic container of shea butter cream that sat at the bottom of her backpack.

Once the music had started, her nerves had vanished. She’d lost herself to the dance.

After lunch, she’d gone into the jungle to take photos, hoping to spot some exotic wildlife. Instead, if Max was right, she’d found something much more important.