Page 11 of Wired Courage

Armita clutched the newborn tightly as the speed of the rotors increased and the sound of the engine rose to a roar. She pressed the baby’s head against her chest, covering the infant’s delicate ears to protect them from the tremendous sound. She could not bring herself to put the child down, even to take care of necessary safety details.

One of the soldiers, his expression softening slightly, picked up Armita’s helmet and put it on her, buckling the strap under her chin, then securing the four-point harness over her arms as she held the baby against her.

G-forces pressed them into their seats as the helicopter rose rapidly and then spun, arrowing out from its hiding place, soon reaching top speed over the nearby ocean.

Armita closed her eyes. Grief swamped her for the suffering her former ward would feel upon the disappearance of her newborn. She snuggled the baby as if through that contact she could somehow comfort the infant’s mother, too. And in the shadow cast by her helmet, Armita surveyed Pim Wat.

Her mistress’s striking countenance was turned toward the window. Her indifference was palpable; all she cared about was returning to the Master.

Pim Wat had no compassion, not a breath of love in her body for her own daughter or grandchild, let alone the poor maid who had tried to serve her all these years.

It wasn’t right.

Armita had felt the baby wriggle, the vibration of its tiny cry, the touch of its lips rooting against her neck as she held it in the chaos of the helicopter’s flight. She closed her eyes and breathed in the child’s tender, unforgettable milky smell. “I will protect you, little one. I will find a way to bring you home.”

And she would do that, even if it killed her in the end.

All of that had led to this moment, and Armita had no regrets. She had reached the end of what she would tolerate from Pim Wat. Sophie’s daughter had her loyalty now.

Chapter Ten

Day Eleven

Sophie stretched, and the dull ache of her body gradually brought her into awareness—but even so, she felt rested. She’d slept a long time.

She stared up at the woven natural fiber lattice of the ceiling, wondering at the achiness of her body—and recognized her room in Connor’s house on Phi Ni, Thailand.

Her daughter was missing.

Sophie surged up so quickly that she fell out of bed, landing on the pandanus matting covering the floor. She groaned as she got up more slowly, rising to hands and knees, then gradually standing.

Someone had closed the blackout curtains over the sliding glass doors, likely Jake.

She drew the curtain aside and recoiled from the brightness of sea, sky, and sand on the other side of the balcony far below. She let the curtain fall, frowning—Jake’s bag was gone, and his pillow beside hers, undented.He must have found other accommodation after all.

Pain in her chest—Sophie hadn’t really meant for him to leave. She would have to find him and tell him that.

But first, her breasts were causing her agony.

Sophie went to the bathroom and did her business, expressing just enough milk to relieve the pain, pleased that various leakages were much decreased. She palpated her belly as she looked in the mirror—even that was subsiding a bit, and hurt much less today.

She was a long way from fighting fit, but she was also a lot closer than she’d been the day before.

The silence of the house penetrated Sophie’s awareness.

The men must be outside, packing or putting together their gear and weapons.How long had she been sleeping?She checked the clock beside the bed.“Son of a snake charmer!”She’d been out for close to twenty hours!

Sophie dressed quickly in a fresh exercise bra and nursing pads, yoga pants, a tank top, and wet/dry hiking shoes. She zipped up her duffel, slung it onto her shoulder, and exited the room.

Anubis, Connor’s beautiful Doberman, sat outside her door. “Hey, boy.” She greeted the dignified dog with a head rub. “Where’s your master?”

“Woof,” Anubis replied, and fell into step beside her, moving with springy grace.

Connor’s house was a square laid out around a central courtyard. She walked down the hall to the front entrance. Glossy woods, sculptures, and vista views alike passed by her unnoticed. “Hamilton? Jake?” Her voice echoed around the stone-flagged entry.

“Ms. Smithson.” Nam had always refused to call her by her first name, and now the dignified houseman tripped over her new last name. “They are gone.”

“What?” Sophie pulled herself up to her full five foot nine as rage and alarm flushed her system. Her bag dropped off her shoulder to hit the ground. “What did you say?”

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