Chief Distraction (10 page)

Mak stood statue still, his eyes searching hers. “That’s the chance I’m
willing to take. It’s either find out or sit still. And I’m never one to sit
still.”

“But isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, we could hide down in one of those
deep gullies.” Blythe pointed toward the distant shore.

“And wait for them to find us? Not a chance. I have to try to get help
before I do that.”

“Or blow up on the way there,” Blythe’s voice was defiant. “Seriously,
Mak, it’s a huge risk.”

“We have nothing to lose. That’s the plan and we’re sticking to it.”

                 
<><><>

Blythe was right.
Mak knew going to the other side of the island was a huge risk, but he would do
everything in his power to keep them safe. Keep
her
safe. “The live ordnance are strewn
mainly around the waterline and most have accumulated in the areas off the
beaten path. If we stay on track we’ll be fine.”

“What kind of ordnance are we talking about? Just so I know how I’m
going to die.”

Mak smirked at her sarcasm. “You sure are thorough with your fact
checking. Just bombs and stuff, don’t worry about it.”

“Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Blythe pressed.

“Lets go,” Mak avoided the question. He knew mentioning the decades
worth of artillery shells, mortar rounds, landmines, personnel explosive
devices, and rockets might freak her out just a tad. Not to mention the
deactivated World War II drop bombs that had been found over the last few
years. It was best not to mention them.

He could tell she was
living in a surreal cloud. Hell, he had to admit he was too. Sure he’d been in
plenty of life or death rescue scenarios throughout his career, but never one
that involved foreign thugs with guns wanting to take him out. The dangers he’d
previously faced involved fire – an element he’d become all too familiar
with, could almost predict and respect. There was a set of rules to a fire’s
behavior that he understood and even manipulated in his favor. Murderers with
guns? How could he possibly predict their actions, thoughts, or motives? The
erratic behavior of madmen on a mission to hide something so sinister, so top
secret that they are willing to kill for it? He just couldn’t comprehend that.

                 
<><><>

Slipping on her shoe, Blythe rose from the rock
and pressed onward, passing Mak. As she did, she brushed against him as the
path narrowed. Feeling more defeated than ever, as if all hope had drained out
with her perspiration, she hadn’t even registered their contact. Fatigue set in
as the image of Lou’s body falling backward, awkwardly sprawled, reminded her
of the seriousness of their plight. Blythe lost some of the composure she’d so
dearly fought to maintain while Mak’s calm demeanor suddenly innerved her to no
end.

She swiveled back to
face him. “Why the hell did this have to happen? And how can you be so,
so…easygoing about it all? I’m not ready to die yet, thanks.” Blythe brought
her fingers to her forehead. She closed her eyes as a throbbing pain took
residence at her temples.

“A headache is the first
sign of dehydration. We have to find
a rainwater cistern.
It rained here less than a week ago, which is rare since this island sits in
the rain shadow of West Maui. We may be in luck if the cistern’s full.”

Blythe gulped back air, her hopes rising from his promise of liquid
relief soon. She’d never experienced this kind of parched dehydration before.
She was on the verge of fainting, but her gripping fear canceled all basic
necessities.

“A headache is the least
of my worries right now. We’re sharing the island with murderers, remember?”

“Listen, we stay out of
sight and avoid them at all cost. They’ll leave eventually. It’s not like
they’re living here.”

Blythe ignored his
assurances. “I can’t believe I’m stuck on this damn island. What I wouldn’t
give to turn back time. And to think I was going to cancel.”

A muscle in his jaw
flexed and Blythe took her cue, biting her tongue.

“I’m sorry,” she finally
broke the charged tension between them after fifteen minutes of silent walking.
“I guess I’m just scared, not to mention thirsty. Something like this has never
happened to me before. I feel helpless.”
 

“We’ll get some water
soon and do everything we can to avoid those men. Please trust me,” Mak
practically begged.

The numbing ache in her
head receded slightly as she stared into his unwavering eyes. She mulled over
the word
trust
.
This man was asking her to trust him when she would do anything in her power to
avoid telling him her truth. And there it was…that festering guilt again,
keeping company with her fears and a throbbing headache. Blythe had officially
arrived in hell.

                 
<><><>

“The contact’s been in touch with the barge and
will be there soon to load our shipment. They should be here by powerboat in
three hours if all goes well,” Roland informed the others.

“Three hours? What in
God’s name are we supposed to do for three hours?” Sanders groaned.

“What I told you to do
earlier,” Blunt said through gritted teeth. “Find those two and eliminate them.
I’m counting on you, Sanders. Don’t let me down. How hard can if be? I thought
you were experienced in this sort of thing.”

Sanders threw him a
scowl. “Did you see me take down that huge camera guy earlier or did you miss
it?”

Blunt squared himself
with Sanders, his look intimidating. He knew he could outsmart the likes of
muscle-head Sanders any day and Sanders knew it too and kept quiet.

“If we can stay calm and
avoid careless mistakes, you’ll all get paid. Anything goes wrong and I may
reconsider your cuts.” Blunt turned to Pax. “Any more details?”

“Nothing. Wood isn’t
answering.”

“Keep me posted.” Blunt
turned to Sanders again. “So get going. Find them.”

“Easier said than done.
We tried already and didn’t see anything.”

“You were only gone ten
minutes,” Blunt barked. “I mean go find them and don’t come back ‘til you do.
Like Pax said, you’ve got three hours. Make it happen.”

“What’ll I get if I do?”
Sanders fished.

“I won’t kill you. How’s
that?” Blunt needed Sanders bronze and knew sacrificing him was out of the
question, even if the threat was handy. “And keep an eye on your friend.”

Roland sneered and
puffed up his chest. “I don’t need a babysitter, thanks.”

“Well maybe Sanders
does, Roland, ever think of that? You’re easily expendable too so watch your
mouth.” Blunt noticed Roland quicken his pace to search the surrounding area.
All bark and no bite. It was too easy.

With a machine gun slung
around his shoulder, Pax pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and
unfolded it. He checked the photo of their contact on his phone to
cross-reference his data. “This guy’s reliable. Don’t worry.”

“Say that after the
exchange. Until then, I’ll worry.”

“Think we should have
more men with us?” Pax gawked around, worried. The sudden departure of Sanders and
Roland left him feeling vulnerable.

“Maybe. Can’t worry
about that now. You and me, we’re the brawn and the brains of this operation.
Sanders is just brawn and Roland’s just a brain – albeit limited to one
area. But with a gun, he’s got a little more back.”

“A little.” Pax searched
his phone. “Wood has five men with him. The stats are here.”

“No matter. We have the
cash. They kill us, the cash flow stops. It’s our leverage.”

“If you say so, but I
hardly like those stakes. I trust no one.”

“Suit yourself, Pax. I
trust in currency. Money speaks volumes.”

“Hey, money’s the reason
why I’m doing this.”

“And here I thought you
were doing it for loyalty. Every man for himself, right?” Blunt said dryly.

Meanwhile, Roland stumbled behind Sanders like a
clumsy puppy. He was awkward and frustrated to no end. “This is pointless. We
should get the shipment and leave, not worry about two people who’ve never even
seen us,” he whined. He fought for patience when dealing with the thugs he’d
been saddled with. He wondered now why he’d left his up-and-up day job for
this. Was the money really worth the grief and risk?

“Just shut your mouth
and keep up. Don’t slow me down,” Sanders bullied.

“But how do we know they
went to the other side of the island?”

“Because that’s where
the military shelters are, duh,” Sanders’ voice seethed with annoyance. “Where
the hell else would they go?”

Roland could think of
several alternatives. If he were on the run, he’d go to higher ground, get a
vantage point. Or maybe stay close to the boat he’d arrived on if he didn’t
know the place. And in this circumstance, stay close to the boat because he
did
know of
the island’s many dangers. Walking this unchartered territory was a quick way
to blow oneself up. The thought gave him hope. “Maybe they’ll get stupid and
eliminate themselves, make our job easier.”

“Hope not. I’m kinda
lookin’ forward to taking them out. I’m in deep enough as it is, might as well
go all the way,” Sanders said coldly.

A ripple of panic traced
up Roland’s back. He wore his regrets close to the surface.

“Should only take a
couple hours if we jog there and back. We can’t go back empty handed or
Blunt’ll have our hides.”

“Good point,” Roland
agreed, a rarity when it came to Sanders.

“So we keep moving. The
faster we catch them, the faster we get back there to our cut of the deal.”

And the faster I can
leave this island and never see Sanders smug face again
, thought Roland.

Chapter
Eleven

Blythe debated whether getting mixed up with his
curse was any worse than what they were presently going through. Watching Mak’s
muscular back as he maneuvered the uneven terrain, a pang of regret jabbed her
unexpectedly. Of all the men in the world, she was stuck on a deserted island
running for her life with
him
. So maybe she was becoming a believer. It had to be fate. It
was her destiny to be cursed right along with him because of what she’d
written.

The last thing she wanted was to tell him who
she was. Why make him angry? Besides, she needed his protection, his survival
skills. If she pissed him off, there was no telling what he might do. Maybe
he’d leave her to fend for herself. She’d gotten them into this mess after all.
If it weren’t for her reporting, they wouldn’t have come to this godforsaken island
in the first place – and Lou would still be alive.

The thought of Big Lou opened the floodgates,
but Blythe tried to be discrete. She let a sniffle escape and Mak turned
fluidly.

“Are you hurt? Am I going to fast?”

Blythe shook her head, brushing a tear away.
“No, it’s nothing. I’m just thinking about Lou.”

Mak reached out a hand. “Take it. I’ll help you
along.”

Blythe did as she was asked, her hand like a
child’s in his. Their skin-on-skin contact gave her mental as well as physical
strength and the sorrow she felt a mere moment ago melted into red-hot anger.
“I wish I knew what those damn assholes are doing here,” Blythe fumed. Sensing
Mak’s gaze, she looked up at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mak smiled and turned back around as
they walked. “I just didn’t expect cussing from such a pretty mouth. Guess
there’s a tough girl in there somewhere.”

Blythe gave a half smile at the compliment even
though he couldn’t see it. “Guess so. Can we stop for a second,” Blythe let go
of his hand and collapsed into the grass. “We’ve been walking forever. I’m not
as tough as you think.”

She sat up, huffing in exhaustion and swiped
perspiration away from her forehead with an arm. She ran her fingers through
the grass, the last traces of the evening’s golden sunset still hot and
unforgiving. Watching it fade to hot pink, Blythe yearned for her comfortable
house, fluffy summer duvet, and deep tub. She wondered if she’d ever experience
tranquility or a feeling of safety and serenity again. Her heightened anxiety
was unsettling as she pulled at the hem of her skirt nervously.

Was this the way her life would end?

Sadness hovered in her mind making her throat
tighten. The finality of their circumstance made her feel helpless; she wasn’t
ready to die yet. There was so much she still wanted to achieve and she wasn’t
referring to her career, not in the least. It was love. Love and children and
joy still lay ahead, so close she could taste it. She yearned for those things.

Mak took a seat beside her, propping his
forearms on bent knees. They faced the ocean as the sun descended on the
horizon like a glowing fireball.