The Eden Factor (Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Romance Adventure Series Book 2) (37 page)

"How?"

"I'll know better when the
time comes."

He was far calmer about it than
she thought he would be. The Marcus Burton she had first met two years ago had
been a surly, menacing man who flew off the handle at the slightest
provocation. It was amazing what a wife, family and solid marriage could do for
one's character.

 "I'm sure you will,"
Debra Jo replied. "I only hope that...."

She trailed off, her gaze on the
truck in the distance. Deverona was standing near it, facing Lynn and Juliana.
Her face paled.

"Oh, no," she
whispered. "Jace...."

Marcus turned around. They looked
calm enough to him. "It's okay," he said. "Lynn and Jace have
already met. Things are cool."

Debra Jo pushed past him.
"But Juliana hasn't seen him in six years. Things are not cool with
her."

He thought Debra Jo was
overreacting, but followed her anyway.  By the time he reached the crew by the
truck, Juliana was ashen and tearful and Lynn was trying to comfort her.  Not
knowing what had been said, Marcus didn't like the look of the situation and
intervened.

"Deverona," he crooked
his finger at him. "Juliana needs to get to the hospital. Whatever it is,
it can wait until she's taken care of."

Jace looked at Marcus, his brown
eyes hard and calculating. It wasn't at all like the arrogant-but-amiable man
he had come to know over the past couple of days.

 "She has a tendency to
disappear," Jace said. "If I don't talk to her now, I'll never get
the chance."

"She's not going anywhere but
to a hospital," Marcus said steadily. "You'll get your chance to talk
to her after her hand is tended to."

It was strange how people who
once professed to love each other could cease to become rational human beings
when strong emotions were involved. Deverona had been nothing but cool since
Marcus had met him. Now the man was turning into an ass before his very eyes.

"You were always good at
avoiding things," Jace growled at Juliana. "Why don't you just face
up to this now so we can be over with it?”

She was shaking. "You want
me to discuss ending our marriage with you now, while I'm standing here with a
bullet hole in my hand? Is that all you care about, getting your own way? Jace,
you haven't changed a goddamn bit. You're still the selfish bastard that I
married."

"Fine. So I'm selfish. I've
brought divorce papers with me and I want you to sign them before I
leave."

"Don't worry, I will,"
she tried to open the truck door, failed, and Lynn got it for her.
"Anything to be done with you."

"I mean it," Jace
grabbed the door, partially blocking her. "I want these signed. I've got a
girlfriend and a one year old son back in the States and we want to get
married."

"Fine," Juliana truly
didn't care; she just wanted Jace away from her so he could become someone else's
problem. "Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just leave me the hell
alone."

Marcus knew he shouldn't
interfere in anyone else's relationship, especially a marriage. But Deverona
was out of line as far as he was concerned and for Juliana’s sake, he once again
stuck his nose in.

"Deverona," he pulled
the door back, basically shoving Jace back so Juliana could get in the truck.
"This is no place to pick a fight. Let her get to the hospital."

"You don't know her,"
Jace snapped. "She'll go to the hospital and slip out the back door just
to avoid me."

"If you’re always such an
asshole, then I don't blame her," Lynn piped up; he had been silent mostly
because he wanted her to sign the divorce papers, too. But he didn't like the
way Deverona was working Juliana into a lather. "Let go of the damn door
and get the hell out of the way."

Jace was visibly frustrated but
did as he was asked. He wasn't about to tangle with Lynn. He watched them climb
into the back of the truck while Larry, Andy and Debra Jo got into the front.
The vehicle left a rooster tail of dust as it jetted off towards the west, in
the direction of the hospital.  When he finally turned around and caught
Marcus' eye, the big archaeologist gave him a long, heady look before moving
back toward the plane. Since the plane Jace had requested hadn't arrived yet,
Marcus had to take the next step. The pilot didn't know it yet, but he was
about to fly a second load of passengers back into Iraq.

The pilot wasn't stupid. He was a
businessman. He and Marcus plowed head-first into intense negotiations; the
pilot wanted twenty thousand American dollars to fly them into Iraq, while
Marcus only want to go as high as five thousand. And even that was pushing it;
he was going to have to borrow money from his wife. He never noticed that Tony
had been on the cellular phone for several minutes, away from the others so the
conversation wouldn't be overheard. But he was forced to pay attention when
Tony ended the call and came to pull him away from his conference.

The expression on the Marine's
face was grave. Marcus didn't like it at all. "What's wrong?" he
demanded.

Tony didn't want to tell him, but
he had to. "You're not going to like this."

"What?"

"The President of the United
States has called in a S.E.A.L. team to go after your wife. They're on a
carrier in the George Washington battle group in the Persian Gulf and were
deployed about a half hour ago."

Marcus' jaw dropped. "You've
got to be joking."

"I wish I was."

Even though Marcus had never been
in the military, the implication of the potential chaos was not lost on him.
"They'll go in there and tear the place up looking for her," he said.
"We know where she is. I don't think she's in any danger now, but there's
no telling what Fayd will do if he's cornered."

"I know." Tony handed
him the cellular phone. "You'd better call Leeves yourself and see if you
can get this stopped."

"But why in the hell would
he do this?"

"Because I asked him
to." Jace walked up behind them. "I told the President that we needed
any help he could provide in order to rescue Kathlyn Trent. I said we needed
all the firepower he had available."

It took all of Marcus' self
control at that moment not to wring the man's neck. "But you knew we were
already going. You were only supposed to ask for a goddamn plane to take us
there."

Jace's brown eyes were hard.
"Dr. Burton, you're an archaeologist. In fact, with the exception of
Master Sergeant Bubalo here, you're all archaeologists. The only thing you're
going to accomplish going into Iraq is getting yourselves killed, and probably
your wife right along with you. You need to leave a job like this to the
professionals and not a bunch of ‘wanna-be’ soldiers."

Marcus' control snapped. He
reached out, snatching Deverona around the neck with his big hand.  Before he
could squeeze, Tony put a hand out to stop him.

"Marcus," he hissed.
"Cool down."

But Marcus wasn't listening. He
was focused on Deverona. "Let me make this abundantly clear," he
growled. "If anything happens to my wife because of your subversion, I'll
hunt you down. Make no mistake, Deverona.  If my wife dies, you die."

"You're threatening the
wrong person, Dr. Burton," Jace said coolly. "I'm not the one who
kidnapped your wife, and I'm certainly not the one that let her go into Iraq on
this stupid venture without protection. If you really want to be angry, be
angry at yourself."

Tony was wise enough, at that
point, to thrust himself in between the two men and disengage Marcus' grip. He
kept his hands on Marcus’ shoulders, pushing him back.

"Not now," he said.
"We've got a real problem to deal with. You need to get on the phone to
Leeves and tell him to call this off.  If he wants, I can take a few of my men
in for support. But no S.E.A.L's. Those guys are a little too high strung for
my tastes."

"Coming from a Marine, you
would say that," Deverona didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.
"I've never met a jarhead who didn't think he was above a swabby."

Tony turned on him, his usually
cool demeanor ruffled. "I've spent twenty two years in the Marine Corp, sixteen
of those serving in Force Recon Marines. I received two commendations for
action in Desert Shield. My father and grandfather served in the same company
and fought the Battle of Normandy together on Omaha beach. My great-grandfather
was decorated in World War I for heroism when he captured a Nazi machine gun
bunker and saved the lives of his entire platoon. Now, do you really want to
tell me that I'm less qualified to accomplish this assignment than some dumb
ass Navy seaman?"

 Deverona just looked at him.
"No, I guess not."

"Good answer." Tony
gave Deverona a long, hard look before turning back to Marcus. "Make that
call, Dr. Burton. Time is wasting."

Marcus did as the Master Sergeant
ordered.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

The thunder of running feet echoed
off the white washed homes. Dust filled the air and screams could be heard. 
Terrified mothers grabbed their children and pulled them inside their homes.
Men were shouting to each other above the chaos, running like frightened
rabbits.  In the midst of the confusion, Fayd struggled through the rush of
people, going against the tide as he tried to reach the outskirts of the
village.

  He was pale and dirty, his long
hair scratching his eyes. But he had heard one word from the panicked horde,
strangers, and it had sent him into a frenzy. He knew who the strangers were
and he had to get to them, provided he wasn't run over in the panic. He
probably should have waited for Mark and Otis, but he couldn't. Not when there
was so much was at stake.

The outskirts of the village were
oddly still. Most of the terror seemed to be in the town, moving away from him.
He could still hear doors slamming and old cars thrown into gear.  Everyone in Zubayr
had had enough of the military and archaeologists and excitement, and they made
it very clear by their disappearing act. Strangely enough, however, no one made
a move to go to the cave a mile to the southwest, as they had in the past. They
retreated into their homes or places of business, or simply made a beeline out
of town.

Fayd stood on the edge of the
village, his dark eyes scanning the barren landscape. He knew they were out
there, hiding in the desert.

  "Hello!" he called.
"Please, hello! I know you're out there!"

He was met with silence. He
prayed they wouldn't shoot him down. "Dr. Burton, please, I know you're
out there! Answer me!"

More silence. Fayd threw up his
arms. "I have no weapons, Dr. Burton. Kathlyn is not with me. Answer me,
please!"

Someone slipped up behind him
faster than the blink of an eye. Before he could react, he had a knife to his
throat and a strong body was dragging him back behind one of the homes. He
tried not to resist, but to tell the truth, he was terrified.  He wondered if
it was Marcus, about to kill him, and braced himself for the possibility.

But the person suddenly let him
go and Fayd stumbled to his knees.  There were several men standing around him,
dressed in desert fatigues and carrying a myriad of high-tech equipment and
enough weapons to start a small war. Fayd looked around him, realizing with
sickening certainty that this was not Marcus Burton and his colleagues.

"Who are you?" he
asked.

The men were very, very American.
They looked as if they had all just walked off a movie screen, all hard-bodied
and perfectly uniformed. A few were very young, but they all had that seasoned,
chiseled look about them.

"We'll ask the
questions," said the man in front of him; he was fairly tall, built like a
bulldog. "Who are you?"

"My name is Dr. Fayd Fahdlan,"
Fayd replied. "I don't understand... you are here for...?"

The man in front of him cut him
off curtly. "Where's Dr. Trent?"

Fayd sighed heavily.
"Please," he said. "We have to hurry. I can take you to where
she is."

"You can take me
to....?" The man's blue eyes flickered with confusion. Then he glared at
Fayd. "You bet you're going to take me to her, dirtbag."

"Gladly. She's been in the
cave far too long. I'm terrified for her."

It could only be a trap. Things
like this just weren't that easy, and the officer lost his patience.
"Okay, cut the shit. If you have any notions of living a long, healthy
life, you'd better start talking."

Fayd tried to stand up but
someone jabbed an automatic rifle in his face.  Slowly, and with his hands up,
he sat back down again. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. If you'd only
allow me to...."

He was cut off yet again by the
pounding of running footsteps.  Mark and Otis rounded the corner of the white
washed house at full throttle and nearly got their heads blown off. Several men
with guns took them down hard and Mark ended up with a bloody nose. Otis tried
to explain themselves before they were all killed.