Lethal Deception

“It wasn’t mentioned in the letter, but I somehow wonder if this has to do with what I’m working on with the president,” Jonathan said.

“You mean, your stand against human trafficking?”

Jonathan nodded and said, “Cassidy’s been a tremendous help with the entire project.” He shrugged. “Human trafficking is a nine-point-five-billion-dollar-a-year income that goes right into the pockets of criminals and organized-crime groups. Men, women and children sold like cattle to work in sweatshop factories and that’s the best that happens. I can’t imagine the horrors these people live with every day.”

Gabe knew the horrors the man talked about: sexual exploitation, modern-day slavery. It was a profitable enterprise in many parts of the world. Ambassador McKnight had been a huge mover and shaker in putting a lot of these people out of business—or at least putting a dent in their income. And if Cassidy had fallen into their vengeful hands…

He shuddered and stood, unable to complete the thought or sit still any longer. Agitation echoed in each step as he paced around the office. He really couldn’t imagine Cassidy taking the time to be involved in something like politics. It seemed completely out of character for the girl he’d once known. Didn’t match up with the stories Micah had shaken his head over.

Take care of Cassidy.

Gabe shook the words from his head, finally stopped pacing and stared out of the third-floor window. Not bothering to turn, he said, “Sir, no doubt, I owe you.” More than you realize. “I would be dead if Senator Graham hadn’t tipped you off to what was going on with that last mission. I still don’t know how you managed to send in that helicopter, I’m just grateful you did. But that part of my life is over now.” And there was nothing on the face of this earth that would make him accept that kind of responsibility again. Except…

Take care of Cassidy. With what was probably one of his last breaths, Micah had asked him to watch over his sister.

Gabe’s mind flashed. Men scrambling for safety and screaming at him to help. Machine guns popping, the explosion and raging fire.

Death.

And that gun in his ear. Three, two, one. Then the ominous click.

He sucked in a deep breath and forced his thoughts away from those memories. He had yet to face them and get over the guilt of being the only one to survive. Memories had remained buried and questions had gone unanswered for two years. Gabe figured he could go at least another two.

Now this man was asking him to come face-to-face with the demons of his past. For Cassidy. A spoiled little rich girl. He turned from the window to stare at Jonathan. “I know you have enemies, people who would lose big if you and the president succeed in passing certain human-trafficking laws, and it’s possible that’s why they took Cassidy. I know I owe you, but I can’t just leave…” He trailed off weakly, knowing he might as well give up. He was going.

Take care of Cassidy.

“You are the only one who can do this. You know this jungle and you know it well. I don’t have the time to set anything else up. And you can leave. I’ve already checked. You have six weeks of vacation built up. I’ve had all your patients reassigned. So, in fact, you can leave today.”

The ambassador handed him a piece of paper with a name on it. “This guy is your ride in. He’ll have your parachute and rebel identification and the name of your contact. After that, he’s gone and you’re on your own. There’s no team, no backup. Only a supply plane that will land once a week, every Monday, at five in the afternoon, Brazil time, on the little airstrip in the village of La Joya. The pilot is a friend of mine. He’ll wait for two hours each time he lands for the next six weeks. Here’s a map, the name of my contact in Brazil and the approximate location of this rebel camp. Figure out how to infiltrate it and get the job done.”

If it had been anyone else, Gabe might have simply walked away. But this was his father’s best friend, a man who had the president’s ear, a man who was welcome in elite political circles—and the man whose son had died on Gabe’s watch.

He owed it to Micah.

And to Cassidy. She might be a spoiled rich girl, but he’d never been able to forget her.

With a sigh and a disgusted mutter, he took the papers. Responsibility for another human being’s life in the jungle was the last thing he wanted. Emergency-room responsibility didn’t bother him. The E.R. was stable and sane compared to the jungle. The jungle would kill him, if not physically, then emotionally.

Now, a week later, the deadline looming, Gabe’s muscles flexed each time he hacked at the dense growth as he headed for the rebel camp, wondering if he could fully trust the guide ahead of him. With each swing of the machete, he pushed the nightmarish memories down deep inside.

Gabe’s cover fully established him as Miguel Sanchez, rebel for hire. With his raven-colored wavy hair, black eyes and dark skin, he looked the part. The scar slicing through his right eyebrow added to his menacing appearance. No one had to know he’d gotten the scar when he’d been showing off at his parents’ house and cracked his head on the diving board.

He ignored the sweat dripping off his face and sliced another thick vine. He’d stopped praying two years ago after the mission with Micah went terribly wrong, but as the camp finally came into sight, he decided today might be a good day to start up again.

TWO

March 19

Cassidy used the rock to scratch another tally mark into the wall of her hut. At the end of each day, she added another mark.

Seventeen miserable days.

What was her father doing? Her mother was probably in need of a straitjacket by now. Cassidy paced and kicked the dirt floor. What was taking so long? Why hadn’t she been rescued, ransomed or killed? Or, she shuddered, sold?

That last thought scared her more than the idea of being killed. In fact, she was sure she would much prefer a bullet to the brain. Working with her father in the political arena had exposed her to a twisted evil she’d never suspected existed. Since she’d started the Stop the Traffic Foundation, human trafficking in Brazil had taken a beating. Unfortunately, a fatal blow never seemed to land.

The men who’d snatched her had told her only that her father had been contacted, but said nothing about what they wanted. The constant tension had her ready to scream. She’d lost weight and had to tighten the knot in the rope that she now used as a belt. Her jeans sagged, and her T-shirt had definitely seen better days. Washing in the creek every other day just didn’t quite measure up to her normal hygiene habits.

Cassidy groaned and knelt on the dirt floor. What were they waiting for? And now, she had another worry plaguing her. Sometimes she had to go to extreme measures to avoid Rafael. Almost every time she stepped out of the hut, she felt his leering gaze follow her, making her skin crawl.

The days blended together in an endless fashion. Recently, Cassidy had caught a glimpse of the newest rebel to join the camp. Three days ago he had marched into the camp and his eyes had caught hers for a brief moment before he turned away without expression. She knew this man. She didn’t know where or how, but she knew him. It would come to her later.

Right now, exhaustion threatened to snap her sanity…and it was getting dark. Fear snaked up her spine to twine itself around the base of her neck. She hated the nights and the suffocating terror.

She would lay rigidly still deep into the night listening to the old woman snore, reassuring herself that as long as she was there, nothing would happen to her. It was probably a lie, but she drew comfort from it anyway. And she prayed, over and over the scripture from Psalm 91, Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night.

Cassidy sighed and rubbed her burning eyes with shaky hands. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her and she drifted off.

Hard fingers dug grooves into her cheeks and she opened her eyes to see the newcomer she’d just been thinking about staring down at her, his black eyes even darker in the shadows of the cabin. Terror exploded her into consciousness and she froze.

He brought a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh.”

Cassidy managed a slight nod against the hand still clamped over her mouth. What was he doing?

And then she was free. She scrambled away from him and bumped into a warm body. She cut off a scream.

Maria! Had he killed her? Cassidy struggled to her feet, and backed up, her eyes never leaving the man’s face. He said, “I’m here to get you out of here, you understand? Maria is busy with the outhouse, but that won’t last long. Rafael there was about to pay you a rather unpleasant visit. He should be out for a while, but we need to get moving, now, okay?” His low voice eased her fear somewhat. He was here to rescue her? But…her brain felt too fuzzy to take it all in. Who was he? Who’d sent him? Why was this rebel risking his life to save hers?

Gabe reached down and pulled Cassidy to her feet. Dazed green eyes stared up at him. If she shook any harder, she’d come apart at the seams. When he’d first seen her, he had been appalled at how thin she was. He worried if she would have the stamina to make the trek through the jungle.

“Who are you?” she asked. “I know you.”

“Your knight in shining armor, m’ lady,” he quipped without humor. “Now, please, let’s go.” He gave a firm yank on the hand he still held and pulled her out the door. He wasn’t sure how much time they had to put as much distance between them and the camp as possible, but he didn’t want to waste any of it. Unfortunately, he’d caught Rafael sneaking into Cassidy’s hut and had to act. Rafael had seen his face; Gabe’s cover was blown. If they were going to escape, it had to be now.

Cassidy stumbled along behind him. Within seconds, they reached the hut that Gabe had been assigned and he reached in, grabbed the pack that he always kept ready and slung it over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He took her hand again.

“Why are you helping me, anyway?” she asked.

“I’ll explain on the way out of here.” He looked up. The sun, just peeking over the horizon, made him groan silently. Great, running from rebels in broad daylight ranked pretty much last on his list of fun things to do. He pulled her along behind him. “We don’t have a lot of time, moving fast is top priority, got it?”

Thankfully, Cassidy held her questions, nodded and fell in behind him as he headed for the dense forest trees directly ahead. They were just about to the edge of the camp and ready to disappear into the jungle, when he heard, “Ei! You there! Stop!”

Gabe gave Cassidy a shove and whispered, “Run!”

Cassidy obeyed, and Gabe followed close behind. A well-worn path led to the river. Soon the men would form search teams. They would spread out to make a big circle and gradually narrow the diameter to capture their prey in the middle. Somehow, they had to slip through that circle.

Gabe stayed beside Cassidy, helping her when she stumbled. Branches and bushes slapped at them, as though trying to hold them back. “Wait.” He stopped and bent double, winded. Cassidy flopped beside him, gasping and holding her side. Blood dripped from a gash on her cheek.

Gabe sat down beside her and said, “They’ll be coming. I don’t think we can outrun them, so we’re going to have to outsmart them.”

Cassidy finally had enough breath to say, “Sounds good to me. But first I want to know who you are and why you’re helping me.”

Gabe gave her a sad smile. “Look a little harder, Cass.”

Her eyes narrowed as she gave him the once-over, and he knew the moment she recognized him. She gasped then her green eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. “Gabriel Sinclair. Daddy sent you, didn’t he? The man who knows how my brother died, but isn’t talking. That’s just great.”

Gabe tried to form an answer while he waited for the sting of her words to lessen. He knew she’d been upset, but that zinger told him a lot. She still blamed him for Micah’s death.

“Which way’s the orphanage?” she asked.

His mind still reeling from her hostile shot, Gabe fumbled with one hand and managed to get his compass out of his front pocket. “Uh, that way. Why?” He pointed to the north.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Anger started to push its way past the hurt. No way, uh-uh. Gabe protested, “Now, see here, Princess, your daddy managed to talk me into playing hero to get you out of here. This is my job, my mission. Now, we—as in you and me—are going that way. No orphanage, got it?”

Cassidy frowned, pursed her lips and said, “I’m on my own mission, Gabe. I’m heading that way.” She pointed north.

Gabe grabbed her extended arm and pulled her right up into his face. “This isn’t some game. You’re going with me. Now.”

She tried to jerk out of his hard grip, but failed. Anger lit a fire in her eyes. “Now, listen here—” She stopped. Demanding was getting her nowhere, so she changed tactics. She reasoned, “Look, Alexis is waiting for me. I have to go back.”

Gabe shook his head and pulled a fairly clean bandanna from his backpack to swipe at the blood dripping from the cut on her cheek. “You could probably use a stitch in that. Who is worth risking your life—excuse me, our lives—for? And who is Alexis?”

Cassidy took a deep breath and pushed his hand away, “My daughter.”

She turned on her heel and headed north.

The shot from the rifle cracked the branch above her head. Gabe tackled her from behind and brought her down on the jungle floor.

THREE

Gabe whipped up his weapon, caught a blur of movement through the trees and fired off a round. The scream of pain told him he’d found his target. He turned back to Cassidy. “Run,” he ordered through clenched teeth.

She ran. Another bullet pierced the tree beside him and Gabe swerved and shot back. Finally, they made their way through the undergrowth to a group of trees that offered some shelter. He stopped, listened.

Nothing. Yet. Hopefully, the kidnappers had stopped to help the wounded man. Gabe decided they’d lost them for the moment; however, he didn’t count on that to last long. He leaned against one of the trees and checked his gun. Cassidy sank to the ground.

“Your what?” He picked up where they’d left off. Please, anything, but a child. Not a child. The ambassador knew. Gabe had had a feeling he’d been hiding something.

Gabe steamed as frustration boiled through him. This was not in the game plan. Get in, get the girl, get out. That was the plan. Nothing about a child. Especially her child. The twinge of jealousy took him by surprise, but he quickly forgot about it as he watched her disappear through the mess of twisting vines and leaves.

He quickly caught up and caught her arm. “Slow down,” he hissed. Then he focused on the fact that his fingers wrapped around her upper arm almost effortlessly. Gabe frowned, appalled at her fragile state. Once the adrenaline wore off, she wouldn’t last long without some rest and nutrition.

She yanked away from him; blinked back tears. “You don’t understand. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. I have to.” Desperation flashed.

Gabe groaned, “Cassidy, those men aren’t going to give up. They’re closing in on us even as we stand here arguing.”

“Then I suggest we argue while we move. And if you’re supposed to keep me alive, could you do a better job of it with me than you did with Micah?” With that flat question, she headed north when Gabe desperately wanted to head west. These last few days had been his nightmare come true. And it wasn’t over yet.

And Cassidy scored a bull’s-eye every time she opened her mouth.

He squeezed his eyes tight to tamp down the memories of the explosion, the gun in his ear. The click. He swallowed hard, blew out a frustrated sigh and stomped after her, catching up quickly. Just in time to reach out and pull her weaving, swaying form into his arms.

“Gabe? I don’t feel so good.” She slurred her words and moaned. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out.

“Sit down for a minute.” Holding her close scrambled his thought processes, but somehow he managed to ease her onto the jungle floor. She rested against a fallen log, leaned her head back and shut her eyes.

Gabe asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

Her brow crinkled as she thought. “Um…I’m not sure. Yesterday, lunch, I think.”

Gabe growled, “Not smart. Here. Your blood sugar’s probably getting ready to bottom out.” He swung the backpack down beside her and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. “It’s not exactly the seven-course meal that you’re used to, but it’s all I’ve got and it’ll get some nourishment in you.”

With what little strength she had, she yanked the jerky out of his hand and muttered, “You have absolutely no idea what I’m used to.”

After two pieces of jerky and half a canteen of water, Cassidy looked slightly better. Gabe pulled a cell phone out of the backpack and turned it on. The battery was good, but no signal. He dropped it back in his pocket. His satellite phone had disappeared within an hour after his arrival in the camp.

“What daughter?” he probed.

Cassidy stared at him for a moment then sighed. Her eyes misted, closed again, but she spoke. “Her name’s Alexis.”

Gabe thought about all the pictures of Cassidy he used to see in the society pages of the newspaper. She was with a different man every week. “So who’s her father?”

“Jacob Foster.” Her eyes shot open and he found himself ensnared in her wild green gaze. Tears slid a silent pattern down cheeks flushed from the run. “He loved God with a passion I envied, he was one of the most wonderful men I’ve ever known.”

Jealousy snagged him again. “Was?” He didn’t want to know, but had to.

She nodded. “He was killed almost two months ago in a raid on his village. He was a missionary.”

Gabe flinched. “Ah, Cass, I’m sorry.”

She shuddered. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hateful. I’m still working on the forgiveness issue when it comes to you and your silence about what happened to Micah.”

A twig snapped.

Gabe bolted. He grabbed his machete and cut a shallow path through the dense underbrush, pulling Cassidy behind him. Sweat beaded and slipped down his face. There was no time to try to cover the path completely.

Hide us, Lord. The prayer slipped through his mind unintentionally. He reminded himself he wasn’t speaking to God because God didn’t listen. Why talk to someone who didn’t care about listening to you? Gabe was working this mission alone. He trusted and depended on no one but himself. Somehow that thought didn’t offer the comfort he’d hoped it would.

A hollow tree trunk lay horizontal just off the path. About six feet in diameter and rotted on the inside, Gabe was willing to bet all kinds of creatures probably called it home. Right now, he would call it an answer to his prayer—if he thought God heard his prayers anymore.

He ignored the smell of must and decay and pulled Cassidy into the trunk, her small hand clutched in his. As he made his way in, he moved aside debris, hoping he didn’t dislodge anything poisonous. Scorpions, spiders and various other insects scuttled from under the rotted bark, but when nothing jumped out at him, he leaned against the tree-trunk wall and drew Cassidy in behind him.

A shaft of light through a small crack in the top subtly illuminated the inside. A finger to his lips communicated the need for silence and her nod let him know she understood.

They were going to have to stay hidden and hope the men weren’t looking very carefully, because if they were, their snug little hiding place would most likely become their grave.

Cassidy shivered and moved deeper into the trunk. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to control her panicked breathing. Thank You, God, for sending Gabe—I’m grateful for his help even if he won’t tell me how Micah died. Her brother had been reported dead on a secret mission that Gabe led. His body was never recovered. Cassidy had written Gabe begging him to tell her what happened so that she could have closure, but he’d refused. She was grateful for his help, but she still resented his silence.

He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a slight squeeze before moving toward the opening to keep watch. Her heart still raced from their dash through the jungle and she shifted, trying to put a little more distance between them.

“Be still,” Gabe turned his head and whispered into her ear.

She froze. He still had that effect on her stomach. She’d worked hard to get over her teenage crush on him, but apparently she hadn’t worked hard enough.

“Don’t even breathe,” he whispered.

Prayers trembled silently on her lips. Footsteps crunched closer. She bit her lip and his right hand brought up the gun to point it toward the sound.

Someone grunted a question in Portuguese, but Cassidy, who spoke the language fluently, couldn’t quite make out the words. However, the answer left her shaking even harder than before. “Kill them immediately. The ransom is not important. I do not want to have to report this failure.”

The footsteps faded. They hadn’t noticed the trampled underbrush and the cut vines. Yet.

Oh, thank You, Lord. Thank You for the protection. Sweet relief flowed through her, leaving her feeling weak and a little nauseated. When I am afraid, I will trust in You.

Gabe’s arms slowly relaxed; the rest of his body soon followed. He stuck the gun into the back of his jeans and leaned his head against the wooden trunk.

Cassidy didn’t bother to move. “Are they gone?” She whispered the words as quietly as possible.

He whispered back, “I think so. Hopefully they’re closing their circle. But soon they’ll realize we managed to slip through and will start looking outside that circle. We have to be gone and on a plane by the time they widen their search.”

“Gabe, I’ve already told you I’m not leaving without Alexis.” Cassidy stared into his flashing dark eyes and whispered, “I made a promise, and I’m going to keep it. God’s brought me this far, He’s not about to desert me now.”

“Whatever. Right now, we’re going to sit tight. Now, be quiet so I can listen.”

Cassidy rolled her eyes and started praying again.

A slight snore brought Gabe’s gaze down. Cassidy had moved in and rested her head against his arm and fallen asleep. Standing up. It finally registered how absolutely exhausted she must be. Lack of sleep and terror had all taken its toll.

He knew they needed to move on, but she had to rest before she went unconscious and he had to carry her out. Holding her steady, he slid down the wall to sit in the mildew-infested debris that littered the base of their hideaway.

Cassidy never stirred, her form remaining limp in his arms while her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She must have finally felt safe enough to relax—or maybe she’d simply just passed out.

He needed to rest, himself. Feeling as if he’d been back in the midst of fighting for much longer than a week and a half, Gabe decided to stay put for the moment. He dug through his pack and pulled out a dirty T-shirt. It would have to do. Wadding it up, he placed it behind her neck to give her some support. The now sweaty and dusty riot of curls she’d never been able to tame spread over the T-shirt and across his hands. Gabe pulled away, fighting the memories even as they surged through his mind.

In his third year of medical school, compliments of Uncle Sam, Gabe had been a very self-confident twenty-four-year-old. He’d stopped by the McKnight house to talk to Micah about something. And then she’d appeared at the top of the stairs; a vision of loveliness in a gown of white. Green eyes drew him; her smile tangled his thoughts. This girl he’d always considered a bratty little sister. But this night…

She floated down the staircase to stand next to her date, the top of her head barely reaching the middle of his chest. When she’d said goodbye to her adoring onlookers, she’d laughed and flung that riotous cascade of flaming curls. They’d brushed his nose and mouth—and singed his heart. Micah had noticed—and stared daggers through Gabe.