Chapter Six
With Reese pretty much telling him to shove off, Diesel’s pulse rocketed. Before he could think through his decision, he said, “You’re welcome. But I’m coming, too.”
“What the hell?” Buck sputtered. “That’s not part of the plan.”
“I’m not letting them go without someone to ride shotgun,” Diesel said. “You heard Marly, the plane and the people in it are subject to being hijacked. I’m not turning Reese loose without an escort all the way to Kinshasa.”
Buck stared at the men guarding the plane. “What about them?”
Marly followed his gaze. “They’re only contracted for guarding this airstrip. They’re not coming with me.”
As far as Diesel was concerned, Marly’s words sealed the deal. “I’ll find my way back to Djibouti. I’m not ditching Miss Brantley now. We’ve come too far together for me to walk away.”
“I can take care of myself,” Reese insisted.
“You’re not in the States,” Buck argued. “This is the DRC. The current government is run by a tyrant refusing to allow democratic elections. He could imprison you without cause and no chance for a trial.”
Reese lifted her chin. “I’m here on a diplomatic mission and to protect Ferrence Klein, not to have you or anyone else protect me.”
“Tough,” Diesel said. “I’m coming with you. End of argument.”
Marly frowned at them. “Please tell me you aren’t going to argue the entire trip?”
“We aren’t.” Reese crossed her arms over her chest. “Because he’s not coming with me.”
“Do you always argue this much?” Diesel shook his head and gripped her arm. “Sweetheart, we’ve come too far together. I can’t just let go. I need to know you’re safe. You’d do the same if the situation was reversed.”
Reese stared into his eyes, her mouth pressed into a thin line. After a moment, her stance relaxed and the corners of her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Given all that’s happened, I would appreciate someone having my back.” She glanced at the members of his team. “But what about your team?”
“They have to get the boat back to the pickup point. They’ll need all men on deck in case they run into trouble.” Diesel looked to Big Jake for concurrence.
“Right.” Big Jake shook his head. “We just got you back with the team, but I get it. We’ll get the SOC-R back to the rendezvous location and ship it back to Djibouti. I’ll work with the commander to cover your sorry ass. But once you get to Kinshasa, you need to hightail back to Djibouti. My bet is there’s another mission awaiting our attention.”
Diesel drew in a deep breath and let go. He was pushing the envelope on his duty to the current mission and his loyalty to his unit. But he just couldn’t let Reese leave without an armed escort. “Now that everything’s settled...” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s go.”
The pilot climbed into the plane and took her position behind the yoke.
“I’ll sit in back since you’re the only one carrying a high-powered weapon,” Reese volunteered.
Diesel handed Reese up into the seat behind the pilot and then laid his rifle in the front seat, before stepping up into the plane. He winced when he reached for the safety harness and pulled it across his shoulder.
Reese leaned forward. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You haven’t given your arm a chance to heal.”
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, as pain rippled through him.
“About the gun...” Marly’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll have to hide it when we stop for fuel along the way. I’ve had a special compartment built into the floor between the seats. It should fit there.”
Diesel closed the door, waved at his teammates and fumbled trying to get the flight headset over his ears without contorting his sore arm.
Hands reached out from behind him and settled the headset over his ears. “How’s that?” Reese asked.
He laid his hand over his shoulder to grasp hers. “Thanks.” Once he was strapped in, he dismantled the rifle into two large pieces and stuffed them into his backpack. He then placed the backpack into the storage compartment between the seats.
Marly checked her instruments, started the engine and the single propeller spun. “Hang on,” she said into her mic, the sound carrying through to Diesel’s ears.
He’d been up in so many different helicopters and large airplanes, but never a fixed-wing, small-bush plane. His gut knotted as the little craft bumped over the dirt landing strip, picking up speed with each passing second. At the end of the strip was the dense jungle. If they didn’t lift off the ground soon, they’d plow right into the trees.
Diesel’s fingers curled into fists. He couldn’t close his eyes, even though his death appeared imminent.
Just when Diesel thought they couldn’t possibly live through the takeoff, the little plane lifted off the ground, climbed into the air and barely missed the tops of the trees.
A chuckle filled his ears, and Marly shot an amused glance toward him. “Gives you a rush, doesn’t it?”
“More like a heart attack,” Reese said from the back seat, her voice shaking in Diesel’s ear.
Marly laughed. “The runways in the jungle can be pretty short. Even I have to hold my breath and pray.” She settled back with one hand on the yoke. “Might as well get comfortable. Next stop is Kananga to refuel.”
Though he tried to stay awake during the flight, the hum of the motor lulled Diesel into sleep. Not until the engine slowed did he wake to find the plane descending into an airport with a flight tower and a couple of landing strips.
A small town was off to the side of the airport. On the road leading into the town, a plume of smoke rose from what appeared to be the hull of a vehicle.
Diesel leaned toward the window, his eyes narrowing. A truck loaded with men drove toward the airport. They appeared to be wearing green camouflage uniforms, and they carried weapons. From the distance, Diesel couldn’t tell exactly what type of weapons, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it.
“We might have some trouble here, but I don’t have many choices on places I can land,” Marly said. “We need fuel to continue on to Kinshasa. If you can, stay in the plane. If you have to make a trip inside to use the facilities, make it quick. The sooner we’re back in the air, the better. The DRC military has had clashes with the Congolese rebels. The battles can get bloody and neither side has much of a sense of humor these days.”
“I hate to say it, but I need to use the facilities,” Reese said from the seat behind them.
Marly nodded. “I do, too. We’ll have to make it quick.” She contacted the tower, received landing instructions and set the plane down on the runway, taxiing to the point at which she could purchase fuel.
Diesel was first to climb out, then Marly and finally Reese. While Marly negotiated for fuel, Diesel escorted Reese into the dingy terminal in search of a toilet.
Several people wearing brightly colored clothing waited inside with bags and boxes. When Reese and Diesel walked through the door, the people stopped talking and stared at them. Three men in Congolese military uniforms, carrying rifles, turned with narrowed gazes and watched as Reese walked across the floor toward what appeared to be a ladies’ room.
Diesel needed to relieve himself, but he wouldn’t until he knew Reese was okay. The bag of fluids Martha had given him had worked their way through his body. He waited outside the ladies’ room for Reese to emerge, keeping an eye on the men with the weapons.
“Your turn,” a voice said beside him. Reese smiled and tipped her head toward the room marked with a figure of a man.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked without shooting a glance in the direction of the men holding the rifles.
“I’ll be fine. But you’d better hurry before that truckload of potential trouble arrives.”
“On it.” He entered the bathroom, relieved himself, washed up and was back out in less than two minutes.
The three armed men had left their position by the door and strode toward Reese.
She gave them a brief, but uninviting glance and turned toward Diesel with a huge smile. “There you are.” Hooking her arm through his, she walked with him to the door leading out onto the tarmac, where the plane stood. “Isn’t it a lovely day for flying?” she asked.
“You bet,” he responded. And the sooner they were back in the air, the better. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the truckload of Congolese soldiers nearing the airport.
Marly was overseeing a man who was pumping fuel into the plane, when Reese and Diesel walked up to her.
“Watch him while I head inside. The fuel tank is almost full.”
“The truckload of soldiers will be here within the next few minutes,” Diesel warned.
“Then I’ll make it fast.” She jogged toward the terminal and disappeared inside.
The man pumping fuel into the little plane eyed them, but didn’t say a word.
Diesel wished they could be in the plane and ready by the time Marly returned, but he wasn’t sure he trusted the man fueling the plane. He kept an eye on the fueling process with glances toward the building the truck of soldiers had neared.
Moments later, Marly trotted out of the building, slowing her pace, probably so that she didn’t appear anxious. She moved as fast as she could without raising too much suspicion. She shot a glance at the man who’d provided fuel and spoke to him in a language Diesel didn’t understand. After a quick inspection of the exterior of the plane, she climbed inside.
Reese entered and took her seat. Diesel closed the door and took his seat beside the pilot.
He’d barely sat when Marly started the engine and contacted the tower. Moments later, Marly set the plane in motion, and the aircraft rolled down the runway.
They were just picking up speed, when suddenly several men carrying rifles burst through the doors of the terminal and ran out onto the tarmac.
“Come on, Betsy, pick up speed,” Marly muttered, her words barely audible in the headset.
Diesel twisted in his seat, staring back over his shoulder at the men running for the runway. They aimed their weapons and fired.
“They’re shooting at us!” Reese yelled.
Marly didn’t slow the plane. She pushed the throttle as far forward as it would go, picking up speed. Then she pulled back on the yoke. The craft left the ground and climbed into the air.
Soon the Kananga airport was a speck in the distance.
Marly glanced at the array of instruments in front of her and sighed. “Doesn’t look like they hit anything.” She sat back and smiled. “Well, I bet you’ve never been on a vacation as exciting as this one, huh?”
Diesel shook his head. “I hope never to repeat it.”
Marly pushed her sandy-blond hair back off her forehead. “You and me both.” She grinned and shot a glance over her shoulder. “Next stop is Kinshasa.”
Diesel remained awake and alert for the remainder of the journey to the capital city of the DRC. They didn’t encounter any more difficulties or anything that would slow them.
Reese fell asleep in the back. She needed the sleep after her capture and subsequent escape into the harshness of the jungle.
Though Diesel’s arm ached, it didn’t feel as painful as it had before Martha and the doctor had worked on it. Hopefully he was well on his way to recovery. He couldn’t afford to be down the use of one arm. Not when Reese still needed him to get her to the hotel where she would meet up with Klein.
Diesel leaned forward as they approached the Kinshasa International Airport.
The large, sprawling city of Kinshasa stood in stark contrast to the lush, green jungle surrounding the south and central areas of the Congo River.
The plane touched down on the runway and rolled to a stop in the general aviation area, away from the larger aircraft and the modern terminal.
“Thank you for delivering us safely.” Diesel held out his hand.
Marly took it. “The pleasure was all mine. My usual route keeps me in Zambia, where it’s not nearly as exciting.”
“I could deal with a little less excitement,” Reese said. “But right now, I’d settle for a shower and clean clothing.”
“I hear you. I’m on my way back to Zambia. You two be safe.” Marly shook Reese’s hand and sat back, giving them the time and space they needed to get out.
Diesel grabbed his backpack from the compartment in the floor, exited the aircraft and held the door for Reese, helping her out onto the tarmac.
“Reese, darling, you don’t know how happy I am to see you.”
A man hurried forward, wearing a business suit, his neatly combed hair barely being ruffled by the wind.
Diesel stepped between the man and Reese. “Stop right there.”
The man frowned, pulled himself up to his full height, which came to a few inches shorter than Diesel, and puffed out his chest. “I’m Ferrence Klein. Miss Brantley works for me. Kindly step aside.”
“I don’t care who you are. Until I’m sure you’re not carrying a weapon, you’re not getting anywhere close to Miss Brantley.”
“Seriously?” Klein’s upper lip pulled back into a sneer. “You’re standing in the way of work that must be done.”
Diesel crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not getting past me until you empty your pockets and submit to a pat down.”
The frown on Klein’s face deepened. “Fine. Whatever it takes to see my employee.” He opened his jacket, displaying the crisp white shirt beneath and no shoulder holster with a gun.
“Turn around,” Diesel commanded.
“For the love of Mike.” Klein turned.
“Spread your legs,” Diesel said.
Klein did as asked. “Where did you find this goon, Reese?”
“In the jungle,” Reese answered, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. “He’s pretty determined. I suggest you do as he says.”
Diesel patted the man’s legs and hips, searching for weapons. When Klein came up clean, Diesel stepped back. “Miss Brantley has had a difficult few days. Don’t delay her from the shower she so sorely deserves.”
Klein glared at Diesel and stepped around him to face Reese. “What took you so long getting back? The Freedom and Human Rights Conference is tomorrow, and the ball is tomorrow night. I almost had to hire another assistant to attend with me.”
Reese’s eyes narrowed. “And who would that be?”
“How should I know? I couldn’t go to the event without someone on my arm.”
Diesel bit down hard on his tongue and clenched his fists, fighting the urge to smash Klein’s face. What a jerk. The woman had been through hell and back in captivity and on the run through a hostile jungle. She was lucky to be alive. From what Reese had said, Klein didn’t know she was more than an assistant.
“I need to get cleaned up. I don’t suppose you had our luggage sent up from Zambia?”
“Thankfully, I had the good sense to have it flown to Kinshasa. All of my suits made it here undamaged.”
Diesel’s gaze met Reese’s. She had to put up with the man as part of her job; otherwise, Diesel would have taken her hand and walked her away from the selfish bastard and seen to it she had what she needed.
“Did my luggage arrive with yours?” she asked, her tone even.
“Yes, yes, of course. Come on, the car is waiting.” Klein sniffed. “Although, perhaps you should take a taxi. My dear, you smell awful.”
Diesel hooked her arm. “She’ll take a cab.” And he’d be her escort all the way to the hotel.
Reese shook her arm free of Diesel’s. “We’ll take a taxi and follow you to the hotel. I can be cleaned up within an hour.”
“Good, good.” Klein walked ahead of them toward a gate leading off the flight line. “The sooner you’re ready, the better. We have a social this evening with some of the members of the European and African Unions. I’ll need you there with me to make notes about anything we need to follow up on.” Klein kept talking all the way to the limousine he’d hired. Two guards stood on either side of the long white vehicle, each carrying a rifle and dressed in the military uniform of the Congolese Government.
“Did the Congolese president provide these men for you?” Reese asked.
Klein barely glanced at the men. “Yes, thankfully. There have been protests and run-ins with the rebels near the city. He’s assigned guards to each of the diplomats attending the delegation.”
“How close to the city have the outbursts been?” Reese asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps on the edge of the eastern suburbs. There was a scuffle in the downtown area last night, a few blocks from our hotel, but the military put a stop to it pretty quickly.”
“What kind of scuffle?” Diesel asked. He didn’t like what he was hearing. Kinshasa didn’t sound much safer than the villages along the southeastern Congo River.
“Several thugs threw Molotov cocktails into a building.”
The chauffeur opened the back door to the limousine.
Klein slid in. “I’ll see you in two hours. Meet me at the bar in the hotel.”
“Same hotel as on our original reservation?” Reese asked.
“Yes.” Klein settled back in his seat. “Don’t be late.”
“Don’t you want to wait and let us follow you to the hotel?” Reese asked.
“I have phone calls to make. If I wait for you to find a taxi, I might not have time to make those calls.” The chauffeur closed the door, slid into the driver’s seat and drove the limousine away.
Diesel shook his head, his gaze following the man in the fancy car. The two Congolese soldiers climbed into a camouflage SUV and followed. “That man is a piece of work.”
“You’re telling me.” Reese sighed. “I can’t protect him if he doesn’t stay with me. I don’t think he realizes that being in a city doesn’t necessarily mean he’s safe.”
“I’d rather fight an army of ISIS than deal with political mumbo jumbo on a daily basis.” He gripped her arm and started walking. “We can catch a cab in front of the airport terminal.”
* * *
NOW THAT THEY were in a civilized area, Reese was more aware of her dirty clothes, matted hair and filthy skin. She couldn’t do anything about it until she got to the hotel. They walked to the terminal, found a cab and gave the driver the address of the hotel.
Diesel settled back against the seat, though his gaze scanned the roads and streets they passed, looking for any signs of trouble, his hand resting on his backpack.
Reese’s lips quirked upward on the corners. She admired the man’s dedication and complete awareness of his surroundings. He was smart, physically fit and determined to see her to her destination.
Kinshasa, home to over eleven million people, was perched on the southern side of the wide Congo River. High-rise buildings stretched toward the sky in the downtown area, and the slums spread south and east.
Traffic was slow as the taxi driver wove through the streets, dodging pedestrians, motorcycles and bicycles.
When the cab pulled up in front of the hotel, Reese’s heartbeat kicked up several notches, and her chest tightened. Now that she had reached her destination, what would Diesel do? Would he hop back into the cab and return to the airport to catch the next flight out to Djibouti?
Though she’d only known him a couple days, Reese wasn’t ready to part ways. They’d been through so much together. He’d helped her survive. That counted for something.
She stood in front of the hotel and realized she didn’t have any money to pay the taxi driver. “I’ll have to go find my luggage before I can pay him.”
Diesel touched her dirty cheek and stared down into her eyes as though she weren’t covered in jungle filth. “I’ve got this.”
“But you shouldn’t have to pay for my cab ride.”
His lips curled upward, and his eyes twinkled. “I was in the cab with you.”
“But you were escorting me.”
He chuckled and tapped a finger to the tip of her nose. “Do you always argue this much? Oh, and you have a smudge on your cheek.” With a wink, he turned to the cab driver and handed him a credit card. Once the transaction was completed, the cab driver left.
“You aren’t headed straight for Djibouti?” she asked.
Diesel touched a hand to the small of her back and shook his head. “Nope. Not yet. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Hey, frogman,” she whispered. “I’ve got news for you. I’m the bodyguard.”
“To Klein. For now, I’m your bodyguard. Now hush and let’s get you checked in and see if they have a spare room for me.”
“You’re staying?”
“I figure I have a couple days of leave I can use. And I’m not going anywhere until I get cleaned up.” He wrinkled his nose. “I stink.”
Reese didn’t think so. The man smelled of the jungle and outdoors. Perhaps she smelled too much like him to know whether or not it smelled bad, but she didn’t care. They were alive.
At the front desk, the clerk raised brows at their appearance, but went to work clicking the keyboard to find Reese’s reservation. “Madame, you’re lucky to arrive when you did,” he said in a heavy French accent. “The hotel is completely booked, and if you had not come soon, we would have given your suite to someone on the standby list. Fortunately, your luggage was delivered this morning. Now, how many keys would you like?”
“The hotel is completely booked?” Reese asked.
“Oui,” the clerk responded. “Many delegates from the European and African Unions, and others from all over the world, are here to attend the Freedom and Human Rights Convention. We’ve been booked for months.” He ran a plastic key card. “One key or two?”
“Two, please,” Reese responded.