Special Forces Rendezvous

chapter 3



“You’re at a church? You’re kidding, right?” The incredulous voice of Second Lieutenant Nick Prescott blared out of the satellite phone.

Chuckling, Sebastian swept his gaze over the single-story brick building a hundred yards away. Two simple wooden crosses were the only hints that it was a church, one adorning the door, the other affixed on the roof. A yellow glow spilled out of the window at the side of the structure, telling Sebastian that the elderly priest who’d shown him hospitality was still awake in his quarters.

“No joke,” he replied. “Though technically I’m in a barn.”

He glanced behind him at the darkened entrance of the little barn he’d be spending the night in. He’d already scouted the area to make sure it was safe, and now he was looking forward to collapsing on the big pile of hay in that empty stall and falling asleep listening to the snorts and neighs of the priest’s two Appaloosa mares.

“So you ran out of gas, and instead of hiking to the nearest gas station, you decided to spend the night in the San Marquez countryside?” Nick’s confusion only seemed to deepen. “And since when do you not carry an extra gas can with you? You’re like the poster boy for always prepared.”

“I had an extra can,” he muttered, swallowing a rush of frustration. “Someone stole it. Most likely one of the patients at the clinic, because I can’t imagine anyone on staff robbing the reporter who’s there to write a story about them.”

And if he hadn’t been so distracted by Julia Davenport’s big hazel eyes, maybe he would have noticed the missing gas container when he was leaving the clinic.

Fortunately, once the Jeep could no longer run on fumes, at least it had the decency to break down near this church.

“Fine. That doesn’t explain why you’re not walking to the gas station as we speak.”

Sebastian stifled a sigh. He couldn’t explain why he needed this respite. It didn’t make much sense—he definitely couldn’t afford to be lazy right now. Unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life on the run, he needed to find out who wanted him dead, and to do that, he had to learn everything he could about Project Aries and the mysterious virus Richard Harrison had been testing on those villagers.

But this was the first time in a long time he’d been alone. Without Tate or Nick lurking around, without that feeling of urgency weighing down on him. Not that the situation was any less urgent. It was as critical as ever. It just didn’t feel so...smothering at the moment.

A part of him wished he had stuck around in Valero, maybe talked Julia Davenport into having a cup of coffee with him.

Oh, fine, who was he kidding? He would have talked her into going to bed with him.

He’d been thinking about the woman all damn night, and he still couldn’t figure out how a skinny, overworked doctor could get his blood going like this. Hell, he’d barely even blinked when he’d met the drop-dead gorgeous Eva Dolce last month, and Eva oozed sex appeal. Julia Davenport was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t sex incarnate or anything.

So why had he been having X-rated thoughts about the woman ever since he’d left the clinic?

A sigh lodged in his throat. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t stuck around. Sex had the power to be distracting as hell, and at the moment, he couldn’t afford any distractions.

“I’ll catch a boat tomorrow morning,” he told Nick. “There’s no reason for me to rush, anyway. This malaria thing was a false alarm.”

“It would help if we knew what symptoms to look for. We don’t know a damn thing about the virus that killed those people in Corazón.” Nick grumbled in aggravation. “Are you sure Cruz didn’t offer any other details about the state of those bodies?”

“You can keep asking that question a hundred more times, Prescott, but it won’t change the damn answer. Cruz said the only visible signs of illness were nosebleeds and some foaming at the mouth. That’s it.”

The irony of the situation didn’t escape him. All the information they had on the virus had come from a source that could hardly be considered trustworthy—Hector Cruz, the former leader of the ULF, who was now very much dead thanks to Tate. But although Cruz had been responsible for killing Tate’s brother during that ill-fated mission in Corazón, the rebel leader had insisted that he hadn’t laid a finger on his countrymen and women, whose dead bodies had been strewn all over the village.

Cruz and his men had apparently burned the bodies in case they were contagious, but Sebastian still wished he’d seen the evidence of a disease with his own eyes rather than having to take a dead man’s word for it.

“Well, it probably isn’t something that’s found in nature,” Nick was saying, still sounding incredibly irritated. “Harrison headed up the biological weapons department at D&M Initiative, so we have to assume the virus he was testing was manufactured.”

Sebastian let out a breath. “Yeah, and it’s probably a mutated strain of something or other, which means it’s doubtful there’s an existing vaccine for it.”

Nick’s answering breath was equally glum. “Can’t be government-sanctioned either. President Howard has been firm about his position on the manufacturing of biological weapons.”

Unlike his glass-half-full counterpart, Sebastian was far more cynical. “Oh, this is government. But my guess is Mr. President knows nothing about it. I think we’ve got a bad apple trying to poison the rest of the tree.”

“Maybe.” Nick mumbled an uncharacteristic curse. “Look, just get your ass back here, Seb. Eva and her hacker friend are looking into Project Aries and trying to find out who worked on it. Once we have some names, Tate says you and I should go stateside and do some digging.”

His brows shot up. “The captain actually thinks it’s safe for us to go home?”

“The captain is tired of being on the run, and anxious to marry the love of his life,” Nick replied dryly.

“And perfectly willing to risk our necks to make it happen, I see.” The remark was only half-serious. He knew that Captain Robert Tate would gladly sacrifice his own life for his men, and Sebastian wholly returned the sentiment. Tate and Nick were the only friends he had in this godforsaken world.

“Okay, well, let me get back first and we’ll figure out our next move from there,” he said.

“Sounds good. Be careful, Seb.”

“Always am, Nicky.”

He disconnected the call and shoved the sat phone into his waterproof duffel, then slung the bag over his shoulder and headed for the open doorway of the unlit barn.

He was just crossing the threshold when the whir of helicopter rotors echoed in the air. Narrowing his eyes, Sebastian gazed up at the inky sky, and sure enough, glimpsed bluish lights winking amid the black backdrop. A second later, a military chopper whizzed overhead, followed by a second chopper, and then a third.

Huh. Well, that couldn’t be good.

No sooner had the bleak thought entered his mind than the sound of car engines rumbled in the night air.

He didn’t bother ducking out of sight; he was shrouded by shadows, so nobody would be able to spot him all the way from the road. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he watched as half a dozen Jeeps sped along the one-lane dirt road. He couldn’t make out individual passengers, but the sea of navy blue-and-gold uniforms said it all. San Marquez military.

“Now where are you hurrying off to, boys?” he murmured, eyeing the scene in interest.

Probably some skirmish with the ULF that needed to be handled, or at least that was what he guessed until he noticed three black medic vans sandwiched between the passing Jeeps. The vans were the equivalent of an American ambulance, yet the sirens weren’t wailing, and the headlights were off.

Sebastian frowned. If the military was responding to an emergency, why go out of its way to make the ambulances less conspicuous? They should be plowing full speed ahead, lights flashing and sirens shrieking.

Unless the military didn’t want anyone to know there was a medical emergency in progress...

As his shoulders stiffened, Sebastian moved away from the barn with purposeful strides. He took two steps in the direction of his Jeep before remembering that the damn thing was out of gas.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

Because he knew for a fact that the priest didn’t own a car, he had no way of following that military convoy. Not unless he did it on foot, which would be pointless. By the time he tracked the soldiers, whatever emergency they were racing toward could be yesterday’s news.

Crap. He needed a vehicle. He scanned his brain, trying to remember if there were any cars at that farm he’d spotted five or six miles east of the church. Or he could always jog back to the Doctors International clinic and steal one of the pickups that had been parked out front, but the clinic was a good two hours away, so—

A loud snort interrupted his thoughts.

Sebastian glanced at the barn, his jaw tensing as he realized the solution to his problem was right beyond that door.

But... Crap. Would he be signing his own ticket to hell if he stole a horse from a priest?

A heavy sigh slipped out. Yeah, probably.

Not to mention that he hadn’t been on horseback since...damn, since an eighth-grade trip to that dude ranch in Wyoming.

But, hey, like riding a bike, right?

Decision made, he strode into the barn and made a beeline for the first horse stall. Twenty minutes later, the healthier-looking of the two mares was saddled up and Sebastian was leading the spotted Appaloosa out of her stall.

He made sure to leave five-hundred American dollars on a bale of hay where the old priest would be sure to find it.

* * *

“I’m going with you,” Lissa declared, her green eyes glittering with fortitude.

“You’re staying here,” Julia corrected. She shoved a spare flashlight into her backpack, along with an extra package of batteries.

“Jules—”

“Don’t argue with me about this, Lis. Everyone else just got off a forty-eight-hour shift, and Kevin isn’t here. With me gone, that leaves only Nadir and Marie-Thérèse to run the entire clinic by themselves tonight. They need you.”

A frustrated breath flew out of Lissa’s mouth. “Fine. But radio me the second you get there.”

“I will,” she promised.

She zipped up her bag and marched out of the supply room, with Lissa hot on her heels.

“Did Kev say what the emergency was?” Lissa asked.

“No. He didn’t say much of anything.” She pretended to adjust the straps of her bag, just so she wouldn’t have to meet the nurse’s eyes.

Don’t come here.

Kevin’s ominous warning continued to buzz in her mind like a persistent fly, and she couldn’t seem to swat it away. She wanted to tell Lissa about what Kev had said, but she didn’t want to raise a panic. Besides, the radio had been so static-riddled that she might have misheard him.

Don’t come here. Ha. Fat chance. Did he honestly think he could say something like that and she’d actually abide by it? If her friend and colleague was in trouble, there was no chance of Julia staying away.

“I’ll take one of the trucks,” she said, swiping a set of keys from the bulletin board near the front door. “It’ll get me there faster than my moped.”

Lissa still looked unhappy as the two women stepped outside. “Drive carefully, love. And contact the clinic the moment you reach Esperanza.”

“I will.”

She slid into the cab of the pickup and stuck the key in the ignition. It took a few tries for the engine of the old truck to chug to life.

Poking her head out the open window, she waved at the redhead and managed a smile loaded with encouragement she certainly didn’t feel. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

It was pitch-black out as Julia made her way to the main road. The weak glow of the pickup’s headlights didn’t offer much help in lighting the way, but fortunately, she knew these roads like the back of her hand. For the past six months, she’d ridden her moped all over this region, but she still forced herself not to speed as she drove north. Hardly any of the locals who lived around here owned cars, but it wasn’t uncommon for a herd of goats, or a stray cat or dog, to dart into the middle of the road.

Esperanza was about seventy miles northwest in the remote woodlands at the base of the mountain. During the day, the drive would take only an hour or so, but with the low visibility and reduced speed, Julia ended up nearing the little settlement almost two hours later.

Because she hadn’t been able to see more than five feet in front of her during the entire drive, the sudden burst of light that came out of nowhere hurt her eyes.

Squinting, she gaped at the unexpected sight before her.

Military vehicles formed a barricade in the middle of the road, and upright floodlights had been set up in various spots to illuminate the area. Soldiers moved around with purpose, their murmured voices wafting into the open window of her truck. The uniforms identified the men as San Marquez military, but amid the blue and gold she also saw...green?

Her eyes widened as she realized precisely what she was looking at. Americans. Those were American soldiers.

And every single person wore a white surgical mask over his face.

“What the...” She trailed off, unable to tear her eyes off the confusing chaos up ahead.

Seeing as she couldn’t exactly go straight, Julia pressed her foot on the brake and jerked the gearshift into Park, just as a shout rang out.

The next thing she knew, four soldiers were swarming her pickup like crazed fans surrounding a celebrity’s limousine. The driver’s door was thrown open, someone grabbed her arm, and her sneakers landed on the gravel with a thud.

“What are you— Let go of me!” she ordered when a strong male hand circled her upper arm and squeezed it hard. She shrugged the hand off and staggered backward.

“Who are you?” one of the soldiers demanded. She couldn’t see his mouth beneath that surgical mask, but his blue eyes were as cold as an Arctic ice cap, and he’d spoken to her in English. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Dr. Julia Davenport. A colleague of mine was supposed to—”

Her voice died abruptly as she suddenly noticed something up ahead in the distance.

She wrinkled her brow, trying to make sense of that head-scratching visual. Was that a big pile of garbage bags? What the hell were these soldiers doing with— Body bags. Oh, God. Those were body bags.

As horror whipped up her spine, Julia’s gaze flew to the first person she saw. It happened to be a beefy African-American soldier with shuttered brown eyes and a thick black mustache poking out from the top of his mask.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, her voice sounding far calmer than she felt.

The man didn’t answer. Rather, he grabbed her arm and forcibly moved her away from her truck. “Please come with us, ma’am,” he said in a monotone voice.

Outrage slammed into her. “What? No. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on here.”

Her protest was ignored. The grip on her arm tightened.

“I’m an American citizen!” she blurted out. “You can’t just detain me for no reason! I haven’t done anything wrong, damn it!”

She was still shouting out protests as the soldiers dragged her away.