WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) (13 page)

And because you don’t really want to stay friends forever. You’re just too scared.

Wil scowled at the wall. So sue him. He’d lost his lover in the bombing two years ago at the base in Afghanistan. He had the right to grieve and to be wary of becoming involved with another military man.

Besides, it made no sense to start something when the war against the rebels might make any real progress impossible.

Or the war might take him away before you have a chance to so much as kiss him. Do you really want to miss that chance?

Wil swore.

He hated when that little voice in his head was right. It made it so much harder to ignore.

“
S
o who made
you think you were stupid, Kirra?”

While Seth waited for her answer, he scanned the industrial neighborhood for their next vehicle. Since it was early afternoon, most people were inside, working. Only a few people wandered the streets. A couple of them noticed the Land Cruiser driving by and gaped at its bullet-ridden condition. Yeah, they had to swap vehicles ASAP.

“Forget I said anything,” Kirra grumped in that I’m-not-going-to-talk-about-it tone he remembered from fights with his sister.

“All right,” he said carefully. She’d been through a hell of a lot the past few days. He could cut her some slack. But he would find out who’d made her think she was stupid.

And then what? There’s no future for the two of you. You can’t go charging down to South Africa to fight whoever hurt her.

He flicked his thumbnail against his index finger as he blew out a breath. Damn. How had this happened? He hadn’t even known Kirra twenty-four hours and already he wanted to fight her battles.

Michael’s helicopter took another hit and burst into flames.

“No!” Seth screamed as the Black Hawk plummeted into the jungle.

Old pain flared into life inside Seth’s chest.

“I could have had your sister and her daughter killed,” Seth’s blackmailer explained. “Be thankful that I ordered the accident to be non-lethal.”

Seth clenched his teeth. Truth was, he was a threat to the people he cared about. He was a fool to think he could keep anyone safe. He needed to get Kirra as far away from him as possible before he ended up getting her killed, too.

He considered his options. Not many vehicles were parked on the street. Figured. Probably the employees could only afford public transport. He dismissed the large delivery truck and the garishly painted minivan.

As he drove behind a multistory concrete building, he spotted an older model, white Range Rover covered with dried mud. “Do you see any security cameras?” Seth asked, pointing to the building.

Kirra leaned across the console and put her hand next to his thigh so she could lean close to his window. Her breasts pressed against his arm. The heat from her body and the subtle scent of woman underneath the dirt and sweat had him hardening painfully fast.

“No. I don’t spot any cameras,” Kirra said. She settled back in her seat while Seth tried to wrestle his libido under control.

The shock of his reaction had him hitting the brakes a bit too hard as he pulled into a nearby alley and shut off the engine.

“Wait here,” he told Kirra. He reached behind him and pulled a small tool case out of his backpack. “I’m going back for that Range Rover.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

“What?” he demanded. “You had no problem dealing with the fact that I told you hundreds of innocent people died because of me, yet you’re upset over the idea of me stealing a vehicle?”

“No. I just wanted to remind you to bandage that wound on your arm so you stop bleeding. But whatever.” She waved him off. “Go do what you have to do. Just hurry.” She glanced around. “I don’t like the feel of this neighborhood.” She sat on the edge of her seat as if expecting to be attacked.

He raised his brows. Not a person was in sight. The buildings were in worn, but decent condition. What had set her instincts off? The possibility that she’d been attacked in a similar neighborhood made him want to hit something. Or someone.

Not wanting to scare her, he swallowed his anger before saying, “Don’t worry. I won’t be long. And I promise to take care of my wound once I’m back.” Then he leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

He hadn’t planned it. His body just kind of took over.

But even that brief taste of her seared his blood.

He pulled back. Kirra stared at him wide-eyed.

Fuck. She’d thrown him completely off balance.

“I promise, I’m going to keep you safe, Kirra.” The best he could promise her was to get her to someone else who could keep her safe. Yet instead of clarifying, he said, “Understand?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ll be back soon.” He shut the door and walked away.

Seth turned onto the main street and shook his head. Kissing Kirra had been a stupid, dangerous thing to do. He couldn’t afford to care about her and she wouldn’t survive if she stayed with him. He touched the wound on his arm. Hell, she’d barely missed taking a bullet in the assassin’s latest attack.

Her aversion to blood, though, had given him an idea on who to call next. About seven months ago, he’d been seriously injured trying to evacuate locals from the site of a rebel attack. Dr. Rene LaSalle had found him passed out and brought him to a rural medical clinic. While Seth was still presumed to be unconscious, he’d heard Dr. LaSalle telling a female volunteer that he had contacts who would get her safely away from the rebels.

Dr. LaSalle was Seth’s last chance at getting someone else to protect Kirra.

Relieved to have another option, Seth turned his attention to his approach to the Range Rover. This close to the building, he heard the thumping of heavy machinery. The loud noise would mask any sounds Seth made.

He gave the vehicle a quick once-over to confirm that it was road-worthy before he hot-wired it and drove away.

When he returned to Kirra, he lowered all the windows to let out the strong scent of cigarette smoke. “It should air out soon,” he told her.

She gave a delicate sniff, frowned in distaste, then lifted one shoulder in a graceful half-shrug. “I’ve lived in places that smelled worse than this. Cigarette smoke is no big deal compared to urine and vomit.”

He shot her a sharp glance. “What the hell?”

She waved her hand in the air. “You know. Starving artist and all that. We can’t be picky about where we lay our heads.”

She was lying. Or, if not precisely lying, then leaving out a lot of explanation. Because there had been something hard-edged to her voice when she’d answered. A hint of sorrow. But also of darkness. Fear maybe. Or anger. Hell, for all he knew, it could be a combination of all of them.

Wondering again if he was being suckered, and she’d just given him a glimpse into the real, darker side of her, he said, “Stay there while I brush off the broken glass from the Land Cruiser and transfer our—”

Kirra pushed past him to retrieve her backpack, stepping back as shards of glass fell to the concrete.

“Or you can help by grabbing your own things,” Seth commented dryly.

“I’m not some fragile flower who needs protecting,” Kirra told him. She shook off the glass, then placed her pack on the Range Rover’s back seat.

Seth held his hands out in surrender. “Sorry. I just figured that with the concert coming up and your aversion to blood, it would be better if you didn’t risk cutting your fingers on a stray piece of glass.”

“Well, I managed not to get cut.”

Gunfire sounded a few streets away.

Seth tossed his gear into the cargo compartment and ran around to the driver’s seat. Kirra hopped in and he eased the Range Rover out of the alley. Turning away from the gunfire, he drove at a pace designed not to draw attention to them as he navigated the maze of streets.

“No!” Kirra warned when he was about to turn down another alley.

A rebel vehicle blocked the other end.

“Shit. Thanks.” He backed up slowly, then turned onto a street heading in the opposite direction.

He grabbed his satellite phone. After punching in the access code, he handed the phone to Kirra. “Help me navigate out of here.”

Kirra fiddled with the phone. “Where’s the map program so we can get step-by-step directions?”

“There isn’t one. Satellite phones don’t come with bells and whistles. Open up the compass feature. It will show you our GPS coordinates.”

She twisted around to reach her backpack and lifted it into the front seat with her.

He gave her a look.

“What? I thought I might want to do some surfing after the concert, so I brought a paper map.” She spread the map open on her lap.

He glanced down and saw that it included all of the major and secondary roads, as well as some of the smaller roads.

Using his phone’s compass feature along with the paper map, she directed him safely to the outskirts of town. Once they’d put enough distance between themselves and the town, Seth found a place to pull off the road that would keep them hidden from traffic. He pulled up his shirt to reveal the wound on his arm.

Kirra flinched and turned away.

“It’s nothing serious,” he said, retrieving the medical kit. He pulled out the antiseptic and some gauze. “Just a shallow graze.”

“Uh-huh. It still hurts, doesn’t it? Or are you too macho to feel pain?”

He snorted. “There’s pain, and then there’s
pain
. This hardly registers.”

Her shoulders jerked. Great. What had he said this time to tick her off?

“All set.” He stuck the blood-stained gauze he’d used to clean the wound into a plastic baggie. Once they were back on the road, he had Kirra find the number he’d been given for Dr. LaSalle. She dialed it, then he took the phone from her. But the call went straight to voicemail. Wary of giving too much information away on a recording, Seth simply said, “I have someone who could use your extracurricular help. Call me back at this number.”

Kirra raised her brows as he ended the call.

“I’ll explain if I get a call back.” He nodded at the cigarette lighter. “Plug this in, will you?”

She complied, then turned on the radio.

“…and for all of you music lovers out there, don’t forget that we’ll be reporting live from the Shine a Light benefit concert on Friday.” Kirra straightened in her seat.

“If you can’t make it up to the UAR for the concert,” the announcer continued, “you can still donate on our website or by phoning in a contribution.”

The announcer’s voice faded into a montage of songs from various artists. “Was that you? Singing about the meaning of power?” he asked Kirra.

“Yes. Wow. You have a really good ear.” She sang a few lines from the song, her voice pure and powerful.

“Damn. You have an amazing voice.”

Kirra flushed. “Thanks.”

“So this concert. It’s a really big deal?”

“Oh yes.” The darkness that had come over her seemed to have dissipated under the excitement of her upcoming performance. “We have Miriam Tchaco heading the program. Can you believe it? She hasn’t been back to West Africa since the rebels became active. I’m so hoping to meet her. I love her music. Are you familiar with it?”

“Ah, no. I don’t really listen to music.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” Kirra turned to stare at him in disbelief. “Not ever?”

He shrugged, oddly embarrassed. “I don’t usually have time. Besides, after being in the air all day with the racket of the engines, I like coming back to a bit of quiet.”

“Oh.” She studied him a moment, before nodding. “I guess that makes sense. But oh, my God. Miriam Tchaco is absolutely amazing. She’s one of my idols. She combines traditional tribal music with lyrics about today’s volatile political climate and ends up with a song that has you tapping your toe and thinking at the same time.”

He loved the sparkle that had come into her eyes. “Have you been into music your entire life?”

The life fled from Kirra’s face so quickly, the hairs on the back of Seth’s neck stood up.

Ducking her head, she shifted to face out the windshield. Her right hand shoved into her pocket. Her shoulders hunched as if she were cold.

Or expecting to be hit.

Dread settled in his belly. “Kirra?”

“I always enjoyed music.” Her voice was flat. Lifeless. Jesus, it had been an innocent question. So what about it sent her off into Trauma Land?

“Six years ago I learned how to play the guitar and realized that I wanted to make music my life,” she added quietly.

He wondered if she was even aware that she’d pulled her backpack up so she could hug it against her chest. With a sigh, she turned and rested her cheek on top of the pack as she looked out the side window. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long, rough day. As I said before, I don’t really feel like talking.”

“All right.”

But it wasn’t all right. She looked lost and miserable and he didn’t know what to do for her. He was no good at dealing with emotions. Not even his own. His emotions usually came out when he slept. Anger and guilt and regret twisted through dark, bloody nightmares that occasionally jerked him awake with a cry of protest on his lips.

But no matter how much he wished it, he couldn’t go back and change the day his life had been torn apart. And if he let his emotions out during the day, he feared that he’d destroy everything around him.

He glanced over and saw that Kirra was asleep. Poor thing. She’d had a rough couple of days. Determined to get her to someone who could protect her, Seth found a spot where he could pull off the road behind a screen of bushes. He put in another call to Dr. LaSalle, but again got voicemail. He didn’t leave a message.

Next, he quickly swapped license plates with the extra set he’d pulled out of the back of his Land Cruiser.

Once back behind the wheel, he focused on his next steps. He’d need Kirra’s help to navigate around the next town, because it was in territory claimed by drug lord Albert Sankoh. Seth had done work for the man in the past and couldn’t risk being recognized.

Three hours later, he drew in a sharp breath. “Kirra, wake up.” He reached over and shook her shoulder.

“Wha—?” She straightened up, rubbed her eyes, and blinked at him. “Seth, what’s wrong?”

“Look.” He pointed at the billboard.

“Oh!”

Neon pink block letters spelled out Shine a Light Benefit Concert. The date and location were listed underneath. The lower right side of the billboard contained two jauntily uneven columns displaying giant photographs of the top acts.

In the middle of the first column was a headshot of Kirra above her name in large, bright orange letters.

“Hey! That’s so cool.” Kirra leaned forward. “I knew they were planning a big media campaign, but I didn’t realize that I’d be on a billboard.”