River of Desire: A Romantic Action Adventure/Thriller (19 page)

That was all the invitation Dylan required. He hoped this wasn’t a trap, but he had to take his chance. He clutched the vials in his shirt pocket to make certain they remained intact and backed around the lab table with a watchful eye on the guard until he could safely sprint from the room.

He jogged across the yard, dived under the fence and dashed down to the dock. His boat had taken on so much water all he could see was the rope that tied it to the dock. Another motorboat bobbed nearby, tethered to the same post. If it belonged to Von Schotten, he would no longer need it. Dylan cast the line into the craft and hopped in.

He pushed away from land and fired the engine, the roar never sounded so sweet. The boat rumbled when he pivoted it and headed downstream. Far enough from shore to finally feel safe, he took a deep breath of pure relief.

His encounter with Von Schotten had cost him valuable time. Leah’s clock was ticking away, he couldn’t waste another second. All he could do now was pray Leah had not already succumbed to the illness. Worried he would let her down as he had Jason, his gut wrenched. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her... or worse. He loved her too much for that.

With the throttle at full power, he allowed himself to picture her next to him, wind streaming through hair, dappled with sunlight. He yearned to enclose her in his arms again. But what if he was too late? Funny, he had known her for such a short time, yet had trouble imagining life without her. True love knew no time or space. It existed apart from the mundane. It was like a miracle. The thought caused his throat to constrict.

A few miles downriver, the engine began to sputter. He tried slowing to conserve fuel, but it didn’t help. Neither did the suspicion he’d never make it back to Leah in time. Then the engine died. Frustrated, he pounded the prow. He had pushed the motorboat to its limit, and now it had run out of gas.

There might be an extra can aboard. A search of the seat compartment turned up a single gas can. It would have to do for now. Luckily he was heading downstream and could coast part of the way if he kept the boat in the river’s fast flow.

While he was at it, Dylan foraged for food, but only found a canteen of water stored next the gas can in the seat compartment. Von Schotten had obviously not been planning any long trips. Thank heavens he could recognize the jungle’s edible fruit and survive on what he found.

He stopped and filled the engine with the remaining gasoline. Normally he could slow down and conserve fuel, but he had to continue at an accelerated clip. Leah needed him. Time was of the essence.

His stomach growled. He would have to pull over as soon as possible to find food. At an isolated inlet, he found a place where he could moor the boat to a tree.

Woozy from hunger and pain, he had trouble getting to his feet. His knees were weak. He could no longer touch his shoulder without a violent reaction. Heat rose from the surface of his skin and a swelling stretched his shirt taut. He was glad Kruger would be there to treat the infection as soon as he reached the compound.

Only a few more hours and he would be in Leah’s arms once again. The thought galvanized him and gave him the strength to go on.

He finally made it onto shore and his foraging turned up bananas and mangoes, and a confrontation with two dusty colored Titi monkeys with tails intertwined on a mango tree branch who resented sharing.

A light drizzle had begun to fall and cooled his burning flesh. Beneath an adjacent
Copal
tree for shelter, he gulped down fruit. The sweet juice ran down the back of his throat and the firm pulp assuaged his hunger. With no time to lose, he finished his meal and dragged himself back toward the boat.

Feet from the boat, he heard a shout from behind the trees and spun around to see two heavily armed Peruvian army officers emerge from the thick foliage and rush toward him.

Dylan turned and lunged for the boat, the spasm from his shoulder nearly knocking him out. By the time he had shaken off his dizziness, rough hands encircled his arms, cold steel pressed against his temple and a voice shouted into his ear, “
Alto
,
señor
, you are a prisoner of Peru.”

Chapter Fourteen

Kruger hobbled across the study. “I graduated University of Vienna Medical College and vent to vork at University hospital as assistant to Dr. Klaus Bueler.” He sat at his desk, across from her. “Dr. Bueler vas vell known as expert on inherited disorders. Quite important position.”

Leah glanced up from her notes. “How did you get such an eminent position right out of medical school?”

A grin lit up Kruger’s face. “He my teacher vas,
nicht
? For research project I studied Tay-Sacks Disease, a central nervous system disorder only found in children of Eastern European Jewish descent. My research to him vas of interest.” He shook a finger at her. “He vas as demanding as you,
mein
taskmaster, who all morning has vorked me. I am old man. Time to take mid-day meal?”

Leah put down her pen. “I want to know more about your research.”

“Ve talk over meal, but first ve must to spread our own table. I sent Kimo vith short wave radio into Iquitos. It should be repaired in veeks time.”

She groaned. A week was too long a time to be of any benefit to her. The wait for a cure was becoming intolerable. “Not in time to do me much good.”

He rose and walked around the desk, patted her shoulder. “Now, now,
mein kinder
, fret not. Help vill in time arrive.”

“
I sure hope so.” She thought of Dylan and her stomach knotted.

“
I vant you should take rest, too. Food vill comfort you. Let us to kitchen go.”

She started to rise but he stopped her, took her hand in his and raised her arm. “How long for this mark?”

Shocked by his sudden concern, Leah glanced down at a red, irregular spot on her wrist, shaped like the state of California. Relief replaced fear. “Oh, that. It came from a spill on the Maranon.”

She tried to pull her arm away, but he held onto her hand and turned it over. “You have many such bruises.”

“It was a rough trip,” she quipped, trying to sound unworried. “Why bother with them now?” She waited for the answer she dreaded, but expected. That time was running out for her. That he anticipated the tell-tale pox to appear at any moment. That she was a dead woman. If only she could see Dylan one more time.

“
Only checking.” He patted her hand and released it. “My job as doctor.” He half bowed.

Nervously, she asked, “See anything unusual?”

“Ach,
nein
. You look fine.”

She hoped he hadn’t just said that to make her feel better, but it did relieve the stress. She wiped the sweat beading her brow with the back of her palm. Now she needed the break more than he did. “Time for lunch?”

He motioned her to stay put. “Before ve adjourn for mid-day meal, I say one more thing.”

Now what? In response to her concern, a muscle in her cheek twitched. “Yes?”

“You are prisoner no more. You may stay and vait for gentleman friend, but you are free at any time to leave.”

“
Aren’t you afraid of my reporting what I know?”

He took her hand and helped her rise. “I vas concerned, but no more. You must follow your conscience as I follow mine. You are my kin. It is not right against your vill to hold you.”

She accompanied him to the kitchen. His gait labored due to his skewed torso, bent like a human question mark. His show of benevolence took her aback and left her facing a dilemma. Should she stay or should she go? Would Dylan make it back in time to save her life or would she be better off taking her chance on finding the vaccine in Iquitas? “I think I better stay put.”

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth and she thought how pleasant it made him look.

“I am pleased to hear,
mein kinder
. I many more details have to share with you. It is
wunderbar
to have you here.”

It wasn’t so wonderful for her with a life sentence hanging over her head.

And her time was running out.

* * *

Dylan lay face down in mud, hands cuffed behind his back. The two soldiers had taken his knife, left him as helpless as a newborn. He was totally at their mercy.

They huddled on camp cots before a single-burner stove, close enough for him to hear most of their conversation. Over steaming cups of coffee. they chatted away as though in the privacy of a closed office. His presence didn’t inhibit them at all, which didn’t bode well for him. Perhaps they had no idea he could understand their plans, or they just didn’t care.

He watched as the taller man poured coffee into the cup held out by the other. Both men were of medium build, but where the shorter one was swarthy with a head of arrow-straight expresso-colored hair, the other was fairer with curly, light brown hair and more European features.

The curly headed soldier seemed to be in charge. “Gabriel, look what I found in the g
ringo’s
pocket when I searched him. Looks like it’s from the doctor’s laboratory. Must be
moy peligroso
.” He held one of the test tubes toward the other man, pinched between thumb and index fingers.

At the thought the soldier could drop the vial, Dylan’s heart almost stopped. “It’s not dangerous! But be careful, it’s valuable.” The curly-haired soldier’s eyes lit. “It won’t bring much money, but it can save a life.”

The soldier shook the vial. “Then it’s not the special cocktail the doctor has concocted?” 

“
No.” Dylan couldn’t take his eyes off the test tube.

The one named Gabriel scratched his head. “How’d this
gringo
get inside the doctor’s compound, Vicente? That crazy old
hombre
has that place booby-trapped.”

“
Our prisoner’s smarter than he looks. We better keep a sharp eye on him.” Vicente put the vial down on a rock. Dylan winced.

“
Why worry about him? We’ll be rid of him soon, no?” Gabriel asked.

Vicente shook his head. “I have another plan. He could be of use to us.”

“How?”

Vicente sipped from his cup, then put it on the rock, almost knocking the vial onto the ground.   

Dylan drew in a sharp breath. Sweat dribbled from his brows, stung his eyes.

“
If we were to turn him in and say we caught him with the vaccine, it would look like the g
ringo
was the one selling the doctor’s serums to the terrorists. That will take the heat off of us when they find out.” Vicente curled his lip in a sly smile. “Only a matter of time until they figure out the
terrucos
’ have the shit.” He spat out the word, spray of saliva filling the air. “If they connect it to the doctor, I want no part in it. Do you?”

Gabriel chuckled. “
Bueno
, Vicente. You are a genius. If this works, we could stop hiding out in this cesspool and living off the
turistas
. I’m ready for a little Lima.” He shaped a woman’s body with his hands.

“
Si
. Then Von Schotten would have nothing on us. I don’t trust that
hijo de puta
. I’d like something to hold over his head.”

Gabriel leaned back, stretched his arms up behind him and rested his head against his hands. “Your mind’s always working overtime,
amigo
.”          

Dylan squirmed in the mud. The restraints chaffed his wrists. Sweat leaking into his mouth informed him that he had dropped his jaw in disbelief. So these two renegades were working with Von Schotten, helping him sell his bio-weapon to a terrorist network. To make matters worse, they planned to use him to cover up their part in it. The only good news was that they intended to keep him alive.

As long as he lived, he had a chance of escaping and revealing their plot.

And of transporting the precious serum to Leah in time!

* * *

Wagner’s
Das Gotterdammerung
played softly as background to Leah’s meal. She finished what Kruger called
Lekach
, but what she would describe as honey cake, pushed her plate aside and pulled her note pad forward. “So, you found work at the University in genetic disorders. And...?”

Kruger wiped his mouth, then folded his napkin in a neat square before placing it on the table. “I continued to research into Tay-Sacks vhile assisting Dr. Bueler with vork. It vas most productive time.”

Leah scribbled notes as quickly as she could, only slightly distracted by a stirring string crescendo.

“
It was at time I met Sophie...your grandmother. She vas at hospital a nurse.”

No wonder I’m interested in medicine
, Leah mused.
There’s obviously a strong genetic predisposition.

Kruger’s eyes glazed over. “I shall never to forget day I met her. She vas to lunch in dining hall. I had for cup of coffee stopped by after vorking all morning on tedious project of Bueler’s. Vhen I approached coffeepot, she stood nearby. Her hair lit by fluorescent lights made her look like angel. When she smiled, I vas smitten.” He stood and shuffled around the table. Reaching out, he touched the top of Leah’s head. “Her hair like yours.”

She had to stop herself from pulling away from his fingers. She found it hard enough to accept the fact that his Nazi blood coursed through her veins, the last thing she wanted to acknowledge was any sign of tenderness. To do so implied an acceptance of him and his behavior. “From your description, she must have looked Aryan.”

Kruger vehemently shook his head. “That was not consideration. Do you think I have always been Nazi? I fell in love vith vonderful woman. Race was not factor.
Verstehstdu?
”

She had touched a nerve. What else was he sensitive about? “Go on.”

“I introduced myself, made small talk, questioned her the unit vhere she vorked. She said, Pediatrics. She loved children. The lilt of her voice sounded like fine
Lieder
, love song, to me. I vas shy usually around women, but I asked her out to
eis palast
, skating rink. Surprisingly, she to go agreed.” His eyes shone.

“
Did you know she was a Jew?”

His shoulders quivered. “Not then, of course. But soon after.”

“And you continued to see her?”

“
I had nothing against Jews. I vas even then an educated young man, a doctor, not racist.”

He seemed perfectly serious, but how could he be oblivious to the irony behind his words? His denial must be as solid as the Berlin Wall before its fall. “Really?” She titled her head to the side in question.

“I know vhat you to think, but things vere different then. Not everyone under German rule hated Jews. Hitler vas gaining in popularity on backs of Jews and misery of Germans from First World War. Many of us vere neutral, even sympathetic to Jewish people.”

His story had begun to intrigue her. She turned the page of notes. “Not for long,” she said, her throat dry.

He looked away. “That vas another matter.”

It certainly was. “You didn’t go as far as to marry Sophie, did you?”

He turned to look at her. “Between us came var, but I fully intended to marry her. I vas always honorable man.”

The pen almost slipped from her hand. Was using people as guinea pigs honorable?

Again he ran his hand over her hair. “Hair just like hers,” he muttered before returning to his seat across the table.

“
When did you join the Nazi Party?”

“
Join, I believe, is incorrect vord.”

She looked up from her notes. “What is the right word?”

He stood, pushing his chair back so it teetered on its rear legs before coming to a rest. “I do not vish to discuss now.”

She rose to face him. “When then?”

“Later, perhaps. You ask many difficult questions. I am old man. Vhat happened long ago, I have enough suffered. I only vant a little peace.”

When he hobbled toward the door, she called after him, “Can there really be peace where there has been no justice?”

In lieu of an answer, he hesitated before leaving the room.

* * *

The barrel of a rifle prodded Dylan in the back. He came to, still lying face down in the mud. The vile taste of dirt filled his mouth. Disoriented, he pulled away from the rifle.

Gabriel’s voice grated on him. “Get up, g
ringo
. We will move on.
Vamos
!”

He jerked Dylan to standing. The gun barrel moved him forward.   

Alongside him, Gabriel glared. “Go on. Into boat.”

Dylan stumbled forward and tumbled on board, hedged in by the two renegade soldiers. They pulled out onto the Amazon and up a narrow tributary. Every rock of the boat, shift of the soldiers, surge or retreat, made Dylan’s shoulder throb, his gut cramp.