Chapter Two

The jaguar bared its fangs and leapt with a roar that deafened her.

It was slammed aside by an unseen force, as if it had smashed into an invisible wall. It hit the ground with another roar. Dirt and leaves sprayed as it dug its big, dinner-plate-sized paws into the dirt and twisted around to come back at her.

This time she heard the gun as it fired, saw the place where the bullet hit high on the back of the jaguar’s shoulder, punching it back down to the ground. As she stared at the jaguar, frozen with disbelief, she saw from the corner of her eye an army-issue boot push up against the trunk. A long-fingered hand curled around a pistol. The pistol was thrust closer to the jaguar to make the aim certain. The gun fired and the jaguar jerked. It fell still and silent.

Minnie looked up then. She wasn’t certain which emotion was strongest when Duardo turned his head to look at her. Knee-weakening relief. Overwhelming joy.

He smiled, showing his white teeth. “Only one like you would wear designer jeans to war.”

“I wasn’t going to war. I was coming to make sure you were still in it.”

“I was, until you got yourself lost.” His smile faded. “Do you have any idea where you are?”

She grimaced. “I figured I was in enemy territory.”

“Then my company has not been without some influence.” He pulled on a slide on the pistol and let it snap back into place, then ejected the clip out of the handle of the pistol and loaded it with bullets from a pouch at his waist. He seated the clip back into the gun with a slap, pushed a lever with his thumb and thrust the gun into the covered holster at his hip. “We must move away from here,” he said. “The sound of firing will travel and will draw them to investigate.”

She couldn’t help herself. She threw herself into his arms, threading her own around his neck. She pressed her lips against his skin, tasting her own tears mixed with his unique flavor.

She fully expected him to push her away. Duardo was a proper Vistarian and there was a time and place for such things. He’d already told her they must hurry but she needed this contact. She needed to hold him and feel his warmth against her, even for a small moment.

Her tears came harder when his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her tight against him. She could hear his heart thudding against her chest. “Como te amo, tu eres una loca.” His murmur was low, against her ear. “What am I to do with one like you?”

“Stay with me,” she suggested. “It’s easier that way.”

Her answer was Duardo’s arms tightening around her. Just for a moment. Then he let her go, picked up her hand in his large one and led her farther into the forest, up the slope.

“That’s inland!” she said, trying to keep her voice down.

“Yes.” He was moving swiftly through the forest without hesitation, stepping over logs and tangles of vines, striding to the point where Minnie almost had to run to keep up with him.

“Aren’t the Insurrectos this way?”

“Farther north. Around Pascuallita.”

“Pascua...Duardo! Your family! Are they all right? Do you know?”

This time his answer took longer. “They know what to do,” he said at last. “Cristián will take care of them.”

Minnie thought of Duardo’s younger brother’s quiet reserve and matched it up against armed Insurrectos hell-bent on destruction. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“I am a soldier, Minnie. They know where my place must be during times of war.”

She took a few running steps as the tug on her hand propelled her along. “I guess it’s not by my side, huh?”

He stopped so unexpectedly she almost ran into him. “No,” he said firmly. “I should not be here. Neither should you. Yet here we are.” He tugged at the buttons on his camouflage shirt, swiftly releasing them. “Do not misinterpret that fact, Minnie. If you must be here—and apparently you must, for you have defied long odds and two armies to reach this far—if you must be here, then I would prefer to be here with you where I can protect you than in a...a...” He frowned, his English failing him for the first time since he had magically appeared, wielding his pistol. “Hole in the ground,” he said. “Long, skinny, for hiding in, for shooting from.”

“Fox hole...or a trench, is what it really is.”

“Trench, yes. That is a good word for it.” He pulled his shirt off, wadded it into a ball and stuffed it beneath a nearby log. He was wearing a black stretch sleeveless T-shirt beneath. It was formfitting and revealed the strong chest and abs that the regulation army shirt always hid. His tanned arms were strong, with rounded caps of muscle and sinewy forearms.

Minnie found herself studying his body, the dips and swell of flesh over muscle. She knew those curves well and had explored them thoroughly. Duardo had spent his adult life working to be a better soldier for Vistaria. He was immensely proud of his country and unafraid to reveal the depth of his devotion.

He dropped to one knee and pulled the hems of his pants out from the high army boots and yanked them straight so they hung like normal trousers, hiding most of the boots.

“I didn’t mean to pull you away from your hole in the ground,” she said, her voice husky. “I didn’t mean...I don’t know what I meant to do, Duardo. I just knew I couldn’t sit still when the news coming through was so bad...” She bit her lip. “Pascuallita has fallen. You knew that, didn’t you?”

“When the base fell, we knew Pascuallita would fall, too. It was inevitable.” He held out his hand to her. “Come. We do not have much longer and the campground is a distance from here.”

She hesitated. “What will be at the campground?”

“If we get there in time, Nick and Calli will be there.”

This was the most astonishing answer Duardo had given her to date. “How the hell will they get there from the city? Sprout wings and fly?”

“Almost,” Duardo agreed, with a grin. “Nick will steal a helicopter.” He picked up her hand again. “Come.”

“Steal?” Minnie repeated as they moved off. “Steal from whom?”

“I do not know. From his brother’s fleet, I imagine.”

“Well, sure, the President of Vistaria probably has a dozen of them lying around.”

Duardo set a cracking pace. She could barely keep up. She broke into a slow jog just to stop dragging on his hand. “Why did you take off your shirt?” she asked.

“So I do not look like a soldier at first glance.”

The why? was on the tip of her tongue and she bit it back. If the area was crawling with Insurrectos, then the more Duardo looked like a harmless civilian the better. Although, even civilians weren’t guaranteed safety right now. Which was why, she realized, Duardo was dragging her through the forest and up the side of a mountain, to make a meeting with no less than the president’s brother, the man called the Red Leopard by the army, who moved behind the scenes making things happen. Nick had made it possible to pull Minnie out of this mess and was seeing to it himself.

Duardo was also making sure it happened. God knows where he had come from, what distance he had traveled. He must have tracked her from the road.

“How did you know to come and find me?” she asked, at last. This was the one piece of information she could not figure out for herself. She had to push the question out with each exhalation. She was starting to breathe heavily now.

“Nick told me.” Duardo’s voice was unaffected by the pace. Damn him.

How would Nick have known? Calli. Calli must have reached him somehow, told him she had taken the car and left the city. Minnie felt sick. God, how many other people had been dragged into this because of her stupid, stupid decision? She had to smarten up. This sort of stuff could get people killed.

The slope abruptly steepened, to the point where they were scrambling up a hill. Duardo let her hand go and they both used hands and feet to climb up the crumbling, sandy slope. Minnie found footholds in tangled pieces of vine and clumps of the tough stringy grass that grew where the sun reached.

From farther along the slope, a bird gave a long, warbling cry and took off in flight. The sound of flapping wings and the brush of tree branches was loud because the rest of the forest was silent. Duardo grew still and turned his head, listening.

Minnie halted and tried to quiet her heavy breathing. The tension in Duardo’s body was warning enough.

He relaxed and the hand that had lifted to the holster on his hip lowered. He studied her and grinned. “You are having fun, no?”

“Yeah, Duardo, just a ball. You really know how to show a girl a good time.”

He reached into a pocket on his trouser leg and pulled out an ivory-handled folding knife and popped the blade. It was about four inches long and looked deadly. He folded the blade away and held it out to her. “Keep it in that little pocket on your jeans, there,” he said. “If there is any sort of trouble and I can’t help you, they might just be stupid enough not to search you for weapons.”

“Shit no, I’m not taking that,” Minnie said, holding up her hands. “That’s how trouble escalates, when you start brandishing knives.”

Duardo grabbed her wrist and slapped the knife into her hand. “You must listen to me now, Minerva Benning. If you are in a place where I cannot help you, then you can be certain you are in the worst sort of trouble there is. Your only choice will be to use the knife or die. Do you understand?”

She swallowed. “That means if you can’t help me, you’re probably dead, right?”

“Probably,” he agreed. His calm gaze would not let her go. It kept her pinned, kept the lid on her fear.

Reluctantly, she curled her fingers around the knife. “All right,” she said, her voice hollow. She’d take the knife but knew that if Duardo was dead, then she wouldn’t want to use it.

He read her reaction. His grip on her wrist tightened. He shook her. “You use it, you hear me? It does not matter what you do with it. Stab, slice, hack. You keep using it and you get yourself out of trouble if you can. Do you hear me?”

“But, Duardo...”

He shook his head. “No, do not say ‘but’. Do you not understand, Minnie? I am the one who must serve his country, yet if I must die to save you, I will do it gladly, as long as I know you will survive.” He shook her hand once more. “You use the knife, yes? If it comes to it, you use the knife.”

She felt like crying, but Duardo’s relentless gaze wouldn’t let her. She cleared her throat and looked down at the knife. “I don’t suppose you’ve got one in blue, do you? This color just doesn’t go with my jeans.”

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 used to 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 ground flattened 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 in her 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 mouth and 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 was here, 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 from basic 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 could feel 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 wave you 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 descent was so steep it looked like the helicopter had lost power, only the roar of the engine assured Minnie it had not.

She heard a shout from far inside the forest. The machine gun fell silent. Nick was too low for the gun to sight him, now. The shout alerted Duardo, who looked over his shoulder.

He glanced at her and waved.

Minnie took off. She had no idea where the energy came from. Somewhere deep, she found the power and wind to run at a full sprint. She reached Duardo. “Keep going!” he shouted, letting her pass him.

He was protecting her back.

From the edge of the forest she heard more shouting. They were being pursued.

The helicopter touched down barely ten feet in front of her. The door flew open. Calli scrambled into the back, leaving the passenger seat open. Nick at the controls, watched Minnie, his face tight and emotionless. Calculating.

Minnie missed the step and scraped her shin against the door. White agony flared. She held in a sob and scrambled again, up into the seat.

“Down!” Nick roared.

Minnie threw herself across the front seat. There was no arguing with the command in his voice. She glanced over her shoulder. There were three men heading for Duardo as he ran to the helicopter.

She was in the front seat and in his way. She had to make room for him. She got up, intending to climb over to the back like Calli.

“Minnie, no, stay down,” Nick said sharply.

A sharp noise, almost like a miniature thunderclap, sounded. Duardo gave a hard exhalation and the cabin shivered as he fell against it. Then the full weight of him landed on her back and legs.

He was heavy.

Nick let go of the controls, picked Minnie up around the waist and almost threw her into the back. She spun on the seat, alarm only just starting to filter through her adrenaline-clogged system.

Then Nick grabbed Duardo, a hand under each arm. He hauled him into the seat, then lunged and snagged the door and shut it.

“Stay down!” Nick roared.

Calli pulled her down. Minnie was already hunkered, though. The helicopter lifted and she could feel it moving, although she was more concerned with getting around the seats to check on Duardo. He was silent.

There was a sharp crack!

Minnie identified it correctly—she was already learning how to catalogue warfare. It was the sound of a bullet breaking glass.

“Calli!” Nick said.

“What?”

“Pull off your T-shirt. Get it behind him, put pressure on it. Hurry!”

An instant chill spread through Minnie from her head to her toes. “No! Duardo!” She pulled Calli aside and wriggled her upper body through the seats. Duardo was sprawled in the front seat, his chin on his chest. His eyes were closed. Minnie shook him. “Duardo...?” It was a choked whisper, the best she could manage. What to do? What to do? God, why didn’t she know what to do?

Calli’s hands were on her waist, tugging at her. Minnie tried to resist. Her athletic cousin picked her up and slammed her against the back wall. Calli’s eyes were large, her face white. “I have to get to him,” she said. She pushed through the seats, leaning on the console in the middle, her legs still dangling in the back. She reached for Duardo.

Minnie lay stunned. Why didn’t she know what to do? Why couldn’t she help him? Why did everyone else around her have a role and know what was needed? She had never felt more afraid or more useless.

“No!” Calli shouted. “No!”

Nick dropped a hand onto Calli’s shoulder. “Let Minnie through.”

Minnie closed her eyes. She knew instinctively why Nick was saying that. There was nothing else Calli could do.

A wail, a childish cry of protest, built in her. She clamped down on it. If she could do nothing else here, she could at least maintain control until it was safe. Until Duardo no longer needed her.

Calli’s voice was muffled by the seat as she responded to Nick’s command that Minnie be let through. “No. I get the pad on, we get him somewhere where they can do something. Something more.”

“Calli,” Duardo said. His voice was weak. So weak. “La dama fuerte,” he said. The nickname the army had given Calli, who had saved one of their own. She had saved Duardo. “Thank you for not letting go.”

Then Nick pushed her aside. Minnie shoved past her cousin and curled around the seat. She was small enough to perch on the console and lay across Duardo’s lap. She smoothed his brow, kissed him and stroked his shoulder. For a moment the huge wave of feelings almost spilled from her. She fought it, pummeled it back deeper. No words would come to her. What did one say in moments like this?

Useless. Useless. You can’t even comfort the man you love when he’s dying.

Duardo ruffled her hair. “I regret...” He closed his eyes, took a slow, struggling breath. “English...agh.” Then, “Nick?”

Behind her, Nick said quietly, “Sí, Duardo?”

“Digale que yo estaba equivocado...si yo no hubiera insistido en hacer mi deber hubiera sido feliz de ser su esposo...Yo hubiera sido orgullos, aunque siquiera por un solo dia.”

Duardo’s gaze held hers. Minnie didn’t have to understand the Spanish to know what he was saying. He had said it all in the forest anyway—I will give up my life for you, if you go on.

The tears came then, tearing at her throat, burning her eyes.

Nick translated. “Minnie, he said, ‘Tell her I was wrong. If I had not insisted on doing my duty then I would have had the joy of being her husband—’”

Duardo smiled and his eyes closed. His head rolled gently one side.

Minnie held back everything but a pathetic noise that escaped her. She had to hear the rest.

“‘Even a single day...I would have been proud.’” Nick’s voice was thick, flat.

Minnie buried her head against Duardo’s chest, holding him. It was too much, too overwhelming. For a long while, her mind walked in far-off places, escaping to be with Duardo just a little longer.