Page 7 of Prisoner of War
He gave a choked laugh and held her face as he kissed her hard and thoroughly. Then he let her go and watched as she slid the knife into the little stitched pocket on her jeans.
He waved up the slope. “I’ll beat you to the top.”
“No contest,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t get usedto these huge freaking mountains of yours, Duardo.”
They climbed once more. The small break had let her catch her breath and restore some energy. Now she climbed as quickly as she could manage. Yet Duardo still kept ahead of her.
She was mortally aware of the small weight of the knife in her pocket. It was a goad that kept her moving, scrambling, hurrying.
At the top of the slope, the groundflattened out. It wasn’t horizontal, although walking on even a gentle slope was such a relief her thighs trembled in reaction.
Duardo glanced around quickly and beckoned her on. He did not take her hand. She saw that the flap on his holster wasn’t hanging loose over the butt of the gun anymore. It was tucked firmly out of the way.
She hurried after him, trying to keep up despite the agony inher legs. Her breath burned in her chest and throat.
Ahead, the dark backdrop of the forest grew lighter. As they progressed the daylight became distinct. The trees were ending. Her relief was warm water in her veins. It must be the campground ahead. Her pace quickened.
Abruptly, Duardo spun around. In one movement he scooped her up with her back against him, his hand slapped over her mouth,he pushed himself up against a tree and froze.
Her relief turned to ice water. Minnie swallowed and her dry throat clicked. What had alarmed Duardo? She had heard nothing, seen nothing. Although, she had not been looking or listening. She had been so thrilled at the nearness of the campground she paid no attention to anything else.
If Duardo had not been here...
His hand lifted from her mouthand moving slowly, he tugged on her ear lobe.Listen.
She listened.
From far away, she heard a choppy sound she had only ever heard on television and in the movies. A helicopter. Nick and maybe Calli too. Even as she heard it, it seemed to grow louder. It was echoing oddly. The echo was the sound of the helicopter bouncing off mountains. It meant Nick was flying low.
Why low? Why, if Nick washere, was Duardo standing still?
She listened. Not far away, she heard a flat, irregular shuffling. Something or someone was moving carefully through the forest. Either they didn’t know that Minnie and Duardo were there, or they were bad at moving silently.
That gave her an insight into Duardo’s thinking. Regular Vistarian army personnel had forest and mountain warfare drilled into them frombasic training onwards. Duardo had described some of his brutal training and survival courses, which he said was merely standard training. Regular Vistarian soldiers wouldn’t be so bad at sneaking through a jungle.
These weren’t regular soldiers and they wouldn’t be civilians. Not here. Insurrectos then.
Duardo’s hand moved down to his hip. He slid his gun out. Against her shoulders she couldfeel his chest move as he breathed. Slow and even.
The noise of the helicopter leapt in volume. It became the only thing to be heard. Then, even louder, came the ratcheting, heavy stutter of what had to be some sort of machine gun.
Dimly, beneath the noise, she heard shouting. There was more than one person, then.
“Que la chingada!” Duardo breathed, stiffening. He stepped away from the tree,turning her loose. There was no danger of him being heard. The noise of the helicopter was thudding in her ears and the machine gun fire, though intermittent, was a roar that swallowed even the helicopter sounds. Where did they have the gun? Stuffed behind a tree?
Duardo gave her a small push. “Run for the edge of the trees, Minnie. Don’t look around.”
She took off. Panic was a marvelous inducement.She flew along, skimming over vines and logs, pushing off with her toes for an extra burst of speed. Thank god she’d put on joggers this morning and not sandals. She reached the brilliant sunlight and halted, hugging a tree and gasping. Ahead was the camping area, about a mile across and two miles wide, empty of everything but grass. Above it, moving in a steep circle, was the helicopter.There were white lines racing toward it. Minnie realized the lines were bullets from the machine gun. Nick turned the helicopter in a circle to duck the bullets.
Duardo pushed up against her from behind and looked over her shoulder.
“There.” She pointed.
He nodded. “He won’t land, not until he knows we’re here.” He took a deep breath. “I will go out. Do not come out into the open until I waveyou on. Then you run for the helicopter as fast as you can. Do not look around, Minnie. I will be watching your back. Okay?”
There was no time for questions. For anything. She nodded, unable to catch her breath enough to answer.
Duardo ran out into the open in a slow jog, his gaze on the helicopter. His gun was in his hand. Immediately, the craft dropped down, rushing toward Duardo. The descentwas so steep it looked like the helicopter had lost power, only the roar of the engine assured Minnie it had not.
