Chapter Seven
Diesel’s groin tightened. For a moment, he’d been considering where else he’d have to look for a hotel. In the next second, Reese had solved his problem and raised his body temperature.
The clerk nodded and ran another card through the machine. He handed both cards to Reese. “Enjoy your stay, madame, monsieur.”
As they walked away, Diesel leaned close to Reese. “I can get a room somewhere else.”
“Don’t be silly. If they are full here, they’ll be full all around here. Besides, I have a suite. You can clean up while you decide what you want to do next.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Diesel swallowed a chuckle, feeling lighter and happier than he had in days. Only steps away from a shower and walking beside the woman who’d been at his side for the past few days, things were really looking up.
With no luggage to carry to the room, and Diesel carrying his own backpack, they didn’t need a bellman to show them the way.
The elevator took them to their floor, and moments later Reese pushed the door open to a beautiful, clean suite. She walked across the smooth white tile floor to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the far side of the sitting room, so that she could look out upon the Congo River. The sun was on its way toward the horizon, painting the sky in lovely shades of mauve, orange and purple.
“This high up, you can’t really see the internal struggle of the people of the DRC,” she said.
“No, but it’s there. We experienced it,” Diesel said, his attention captured by Reese, framed in one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sunset giving her a glow of faint pink and orange. Despite her disheveled appearance, the muted light managed to enhance her beauty and strength.
Reese nodded and glanced over her shoulder at him. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go first in the shower.”
“That works. I’m going to duck out and find some clean clothes.” He had nothing but the outfit he’d worn to storm the kidnappers’ camp.
Her eyes widened. “I’d completely forgotten you came without anything other than what you’re wearing.”
He shrugged. “No worries. I’ll be back in less than an hour. Don’t let anyone into this room until I return.”
Her lips twisted. “Even my boss?”
Diesel snorted. “Especially your boss.” He bent and brushed his lips across hers.
She stared up at him. “How can you do that?”
He lifted his head slightly, his gaze on the lips he wanted to take again. “Do what?”
“Kiss me when I’m so filthy?” she said, her voice airy, as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m just as dirty.” He swept his thumb across her cheek. “I think you’re beautiful.”
She laughed shakily. “Seriously? What other drugs did Martha give you?” Reese shook her head. “Never mind. Go. Get some clothes and get back.” Reese grabbed her suitcase and rolled it into the bedroom. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll use up all of the hot water.”
“Going,” he called out, on his way toward the exit. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and glanced back at Reese as she closed the door to the bedroom.
Everything had changed since they’d left the jungle. The city, the hotel, the modern conveniences were as different from the harshness of the jungle as night was from day. But his gut told him that it was no less dangerous. Yeah, they didn’t have to worry about crocodiles so high up in the hotel, or gorillas climbing up to rip them apart. But the trouble in the Democratic Republic of the Congo was real.
Maybe he was being overly protective or paranoid, but Diesel couldn’t leave Reese alone for long until that feeling went away. But if he was going to stay with her, he had to be dressed for the part. His combat clothes had to go.
* * *
REESE STARED AT the bedroom door, her heart suddenly racing. Her first inclination was to run after him and tell him to stay. Logic prevailed. The man was only going out to buy some clothes. He’d be back. What could happen to him in the city that was any worse than what had happened in the jungle? The man was a survivor.
Willing her pulse to slow back to normal, she dug through her case for toiletries, panties, a dress and shoes and carried them into the bathroom. After she peeled her torn, dirty clothes from her body, she shoved them into the wastebasket and turned to stare at herself in the mirror. Holy hell!
Dirty was putting it mildly. Her face was streaked with dirt and sweat, her hair looked like a rat’s nest and she had bruises and cuts on just about every surface. She turned the shower on and stepped in, watching the clear water turn murky as the dirt mixed with the water and swirled down the drain.
Squeezing out a sizable glob of shampoo into her hand, she attacked her hair. Then with a fresh bar of soap, she went to work on scrubbing all of the jungle grime from her body. When she was done, she did it all again. Finally, the water running off her body was clear and clean.
Feeling like a completely different person, she turned off the water and stepped out onto the bath mat to dry off. Brushing the tangles out of her hair was harder than scrubbing the dirt off her body. She lost several clumps of hair to the bristles before she smoothed out every last knot. This time, when she glanced into the mirror, she almost recognized the woman staring back at her. Only, she was somewhat different. The time she had spent in the jungle with Diesel left her feeling strangely hopeful and optimistic about the future.
Whereas her captivity at the hands of the Taliban had left her very broken and angry, the time with Diesel had made her feel empowered and capable. Yes, he’d saved her life, but he’d appreciated the fact she could keep up with him. All the training she’d done to make her body strong and to be able to defend herself had paid off.
Being captured by the Congolese warlord had been nothing but bad luck. Had she not been thrown against the dash and knocked out, she could have forced the Zambian driver to stop before they drove across the border into the DRC.
She had managed to free Klein and escape captivity herself, before the SEALs showed up. They had helped to make good her escape, but she had no doubt she could have survived on her own.
But she was glad she’d had Diesel to help get her out of the jungle. A shiver rippled down her spine in the air-conditioned room. On second thought, it had taken both of them to get through the jungle. Alone, she might have been the target of a hungry lion. And she never would have considered climbing a tree. No, Diesel had been the main reason she was standing in the hotel, fresh clean and alive.
Reese slipped into her bra, panties and the cocktail-length black dress she’d brought along for the social event that evening. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. She had exactly fifteen minutes before she was to meet Ferrence at the bar. Over an hour had passed since Diesel had left to find clothes.
She frowned at the door, willing it to open to the man she worried about. A nervous chuckle rose up her throat. Why she worried about Diesel, she didn’t know. The man could clearly take care of himself.
Back in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and then plugged in the blow-dryer and dried her clean hair. The long strands fanned out across her shoulders, the rich auburn tresses curling slightly at the ends. She wondered what Diesel would think of her hair now that it wasn’t covered in dirt and dust. Would he think it was pretty?
Reese bent to place the blow-dryer beneath the cabinet and straightened to see another person in the mirror’s reflection.
Diesel stood behind her, clean, freshly shaven and wearing a dark business suit, the white shirt beneath it making his tan seem even darker.
Reese’s heart fluttered. The man was so handsome it almost hurt her eyes to look at him. “How?”
“The gym in the basement of the hotel had a shower. I knew if I showed up at a store to try on clothes, they’d run me off. So, I showered before I left.” He held up his arm, displaying a price tag hanging from his sleeve. “They missed one.”
Being so close to the man made her body temperature rise and heat rush into her cheeks. “I’ve got a pair of fingernail scissors in my bag,” she said, her voice fading as her breath lodged in her lungs. He really was too handsome. He was causing her thoughts to scramble. “I’ll just get it,” she said, and started to brush past him.
His arm snaked out, blocking her path out of the bathroom. “Wait. You have something on your chin.”
Her eyes widened, and she raised her hand to her chin. “Where? Here?”
He took her hand and kissed the fingertips. “No. Here.” Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her chin, then migrated up to her lips.
Her hands rested against his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his new suit.
When he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, she opened her mouth and let him in.
He claimed her in that kiss, crushing her body to his, sweeping her tongue in a long, sensuous caress.
Reese forgot everything outside the circle of his arms. Forgot she had a job to do. Forgot the past and all the horrors it held for her. In Diesel’s arms, she was who she was meant to be and more. She slid her leg up the back of his calf, pressing her hips closer to his. How she wanted to shed her clothes and take him to her bed to make sweet love to him. Surely that was the reason they’d made it through the jungle and back to this hotel.
A knock on the door jolted her out of the fog of lust threatening to consume her.
She lifted her head and stared into Diesel’s deep brown eyes. He had a speck of gold in one of them, making him even more attractive and a little mysterious.
Another knock sounded on the door. “Reese? Are you in there?” Ferrence’s muffled voice sounded through the paneling, jerking Reese back to reality. “I have to go.”
“I’m going with you,” Diesel said, his tone firm.
She frowned. “I’m not sure I can get you in,” she said. But she’d try. As long as he was still there, she wanted to be as close to him as possible. “Perhaps Mr. Klein can pull strings.”
“Let’s find out.” Diesel brushed a kiss across her forehead. “You’re beautiful.”
She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest and everywhere else in her body. “You’re not half-bad yourself.”
He touched a strand of her hair. “I didn’t know you were a redhead.”
She laughed. “It was hard to tell with it being so dirty.” Reese nodded toward the door. “We’d better go before Ferrence has housekeeping come unlock the door to check for dead bodies.”
He glanced down at her feet and smiled. “I’ll get the door, while you find some shoes.”
Her cheeks heating and her core on fire, Reese hurried to the bedroom and slipped into the strappy silver stilettoes she’d chosen to go with the black dress. She prayed Ferrence could get Diesel into the social event, and maybe afterward, they’d come back to the suite and pick up where they’d left off on that kiss.
* * *
DIESEL BRACED HIMSELF against annoyance and opened the door to Ferrence Klein.
“Oh,” the shorter man said and frowned. “I must have the wrong room.”
“No, Mr. Klein, you have the correct room.” Reese walked up, carrying a light silvery clutch in her hand. “We’re ready to go, if you are.”
“We?” He stared from Reese to Diesel and back. “I only have invitations for the two of us.”
“Is there someone you can talk to about getting Mr. Landon in? I believe it would be worth a try. He’s proven quite helpful in seeing to my safety. I’m sure he will be equally helpful in looking out for the both of us.”
Klein’s frown deepened. “I don’t know. If the dignitaries think I don’t have confidence in their ability to see to my well-being, they might not want to negotiate with us.”
“He could come as my fiancé,” Reese said. “They don’t have to know he’s here to provide protection.”
Diesel loved the irony of the situation. Klein didn’t know Reese was there to provide for his protection, and here she was volunteering Diesel to be their backup, as long as their hosts didn’t catch wind.
The diplomat’s face hardened. “I had hoped to have you acting as my date.”
Reese crossed her arms over her chest. “Considering your wife is at home with your children, perhaps it would be better if my fiancé tags along, don’t you think?”
Diesel almost raised his hand to give Reese a high-five, but he restrained himself and let her manage her boss. Knowing her, she wouldn’t appreciate him butting in or punching the man in the face, as he sorely wished he could.
“Well, I suppose you’re right. But I need you to be with me at all times in case I miss something. You are my assistant, after all.”
Reese nodded. “Yes, I am. And I’ll be with you throughout the evening.”
“Well, then, let’s get this over with. We’ll make an appearance, talk with the president and call it a night. The convention starts tomorrow. It’ll be a long day of meetings.”
Reese followed Klein out of the suite and to the elevator.
Diesel was glad he’d gone to the trouble of getting the suit. Had he not, he’d be waiting in the suite, cooling his heels while Reese was off with the lecherous Ferrence Klein.
He clenched his fists and reminded himself that Reese was perfectly capable of handling her boss. It was the rest of the delegates he should be concerned about. Some of the countries represented at the convention had little to no respect for women, their rights or their safety.
The elevator took them to the second floor, where half of the ballroom had been sectioned off to provide a more intimate space for the smaller social gathering of a few chosen dignitaries.
Diesel didn’t recognize any of them. Most wore expensive, tailored suits or long, elaborate robes, depending on their faith or the country they represented. Although there were some women in the room, the preponderance of people there were men. And they appeared to be businessmen, many of them white.
“I thought this was supposed to be a summit of the African Union,” he said.
“This social is for the businessmen who have interest in the DRC. They want to make sure their interests are being represented in these meetings,” Klein said. “There’s the president. I want to speak with him before the room gets too full.” Klein hurried across the room with Reese at his side.
Diesel followed at a slower pace, taking in all the guests and the military men dressed in neatly pressed uniforms, but still carrying their rifles. He didn’t like that he’d had to hide his own rifle in the suite, still stashed in his backpack.
If one of the military guards started shooting, it would be a massacre in a matter of seconds. A chill rippled across the back of Diesel’s neck. The ball would be held in the same place the next night. He wondered if they would have the same military presence stationed throughout the room. He also wondered if the exterior of the building was being guarded as well.
Diesel hurried to catch up to Klein and Reese. Perhaps he’d been involved in too many skirmishes. He thought too much about different scenarios. With as many dignitaries in town, the president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo would have heightened security, especially since there were rebel factions stirring up trouble in the country, based on what Klein had told them.
Diesel had read about the president of the DRC and how he was known to be heavy-handed with his use of military force. Though the president was an elected position, the current one wasn’t keen on giving up the job. He’d delayed the elections, claiming the country was not stable enough to hold them when they were supposed to be held. The truth was he didn’t want to be voted out of office.
And he was the host of this event. He had a lot riding on his ability to maintain the peace and keep the dignitaries safe while they were in Kinshasa.
As Klein and Reese reached the president, a scuffle broke out behind Diesel. He turned to see the guards holding a man at the door. The man appeared dressed in a ceremonial uniform and headdress. He struggled against the guards holding him back from entering the room.
He shouted something across the room toward the location where Reese and Klein were standing.
Diesel couldn’t understand his words, as they were spoken in one of the languages indigenous to the Congo.
The president’s chin lifted, and he answered in French, the official language of the DRC.
Diesel had taken French in high school, but he could only pick up on a few words. One of them being brother and the other being go.
He knew the president of the DRC had a brother who’d planned to run in the next election. It appeared the brother hadn’t been invited to the social and was attempting to crash the party.
The president excused himself from the people gathered around him and walked across the floor and out the door with his brother.
Diesel joined Reese and Klein.
“Well, that wasn’t helpful,” Ferrence complained. “I wanted to speak with the president since I couldn’t get a meeting alone with him while I’m here.”
“Why are you so intent on meeting with the president?” Diesel asked.
“The mines in the Congo are rich with minerals everyone in the world wants,” Ferrence said, his voice hushed in the crowded room. “We need to make sure we have a stake in the mining industry. The Russians and Chinese have been funding development of the mining operations. We can’t let them take everything. We need the copper, gold and other minerals for our own country’s needs.”
Diesel watched the door, waiting for the president’s return. “And what does that have to do with the US?”
“We suspect President Jean-Paul Sabando sold half the interest in one of the major copper mines to an undisclosed party,” Reese continued. “Ferrence is here to find out if he sold it and to whom.”
“And if he did, then what?” Diesel asked.
“We attempt to find out who has it and try to purchase it from them.”
“Since when does the US negotiate purchases of mine interests with foreign countries?”
“Since we need those minerals in the production of our weapons,” Klein said. “And the US won’t be the ones to purchase the interest. It would be one of our primes who provide the materials we need for weapons production.”
“The president’s brother, Lawrence Sabando, is running on the platform of returning the profits to the people of the DRC,” Klein said. “Rumor has it he’s got the backing of Bosco Mutombo, one of the major warlords responsible for attacks on the mine.”
“Bosco Mutombo?” Reese frowned. “I could swear he was in charge of the men who abducted us.”
Klein’s brows drew together. “In which case, we’re lucky to be here.”
Reese’s lips thinned. “Luck had nothing to do with it. Diesel and his men got us out of there.”
Klein nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“And Lawrence decided it was a good idea to crash his brother’s party?” Diesel shook his head. “Sounds like a recipe for trouble.”
Klein craned his neck to see over the crowd, watching the entrance for the president’s return. “Like I said, there was an incident involving Molotov cocktails last night at a building not far from here.”
“What building?” Reese asked.
“The headquarters of Metro Mining Company, one of the state-owned mining companies of the DRC,” Klein said. “They are responsible for the mining of the copper mine the president sold half interest in.”
Diesel shook his head. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to be in the DRC right now?”
“I’m here on my father’s behalf to establish a conversation with the president.” Klein lifted his chin. “My father would be here, but he’s tied up with the troubles in Libya. The US president wanted him in Washington if anything broke out.”
“So you’re here, in a hostile environment and have already been kidnapped once by Congolese rebels and held for ransom.” Diesel didn’t like it. “Why?”
“From what my father told me, they were demanding a lot of money. Money the US government could have handed over to free me. I suspect they wanted the money to fund their supplies to keep up the fight.” Klein stood straighter. “As far as President Sabando is concerned, I was never kidnapped or held for ransom. My father didn’t want to give the rebels any more credit than we can help.”
“Okay,” Diesel said, “But what’s to keep the rebels from making another attempt on your life, or one of the other delegates here for the convention?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Klein gave him a hint of a smile. “Since you insisted on coming to this social, it’s given me an idea. I’ll work with my father to see if we can get more help here to protect the people at the convention. Of course, whoever helps would have to be undercover. We couldn’t let Sabando catch wind we don’t trust his security forces. I bet my father could get the team that rescued me to provide the support we need for tomorrow.”
“Only if we get on the phone now. It takes time to get them from where they are to Kinshasa, and they’ll need appropriate attire for the mission. Combat gear would be a dead giveaway.” Diesel’s brows pulled together as he worked through the logistics in his head.
“I’ll see what I can do to make it happen.” Klein pulled out a shiny new cell phone and walked off to a deserted corner of the ballroom to place his call.
Reese and Diesel followed, but stood far enough away to give the man privacy for his call.
“Do you think your team could be here and in place by tomorrow?” Reese asked.
“You’d be surprised how fast they can deploy. And since they’re already on this continent, they could be here by morning.”
Klein rejoined them, his lips forming a thin line. “It’s done. Your team should be receiving orders within the hour.”