The Hunter (11 page)

“He was very charming tonight,” Lily conceded. “You sure are walking up these steps like a grandma. If Hawk’s so full of energy at night outside, can you imagine his endurance indoors? Say, in bed?”

“Nu-uh, I know a changing-the-subject tactic when I see one,” Amber mocked. “So, you find Brad charming, huh? I told you that he isn’t all bureaucrat. That’s a really interesting man once you get to know him, Lily.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly in town long enough to do that. His lifestyle and mine aren’t going to converge anytime in the future, either.”

Amber admitted that that could be a problem. Brad was all black and white, and Lily was obviously as gray as one could get when it came to the law. If there were ever an example of opposites attracting, then her friends were the prime example.

“Things have a way of working out,” she said as they reached the top. She wiped her damp feet as Lily opened the door. “Maybe you’ll retire from your line of work, and who knows?”

“And maybe pigs will fly.” Lily turned on the kitchen light. She went straight to the refrigerator. “Want a drink? I think we have some mimosa left.”

Amber closed the door behind her. “Nah. I’ll just have water. I have a restaurant to run in…oh…a couple of hours.” She sighed. “We’ll talk sometime tomorrow, okay? Maybe I’ll skip the bookkeeping in the morning, stay in bed, and curse at Hawk McMillan.”

She watched Lily pour a large drink. Something had happened tonight, she could tell. She had hoped that Lily would see that she deserved Brad, no matter what her background was, but it would take time. Lily’s darkness wasn’t exactly something one light could brighten immediately. Anyway, Brad would talk to her later. She poured a glass of water for herself.

“Goodnight, then,” Lily said, heading for the sofa. “I’m going to stay up a bit. We’ll definitely have a lot to talk about today. Brad has info about a new group coming in. There’s also his interview venture and our plans for that. You have this thing going with Hawk McMillan which might take up some of your time, so we definitely have to look at schedules.”

So it was “our plans,” was it? That was interesting in itself. Amber nodded. “It’s all tied together in one big Dummy package. We might be able to use it as hot stuff.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “It looks like we all have something in common—Dilaver.” She took a gulp from her mimosa. “Maybe we can get Hawk to help us with our venture.”

“We’ll see. The man’s a bit one-track.” Amber thought of how Hawk’s focus was on his mission, even when there were other things that needed his immediate attention. “He might not help.”

“Oh, be your persuasive self, Amber,” Lily said, settling back comfortably in the sofa with a yawn. “Stop competing with one another and talk to the guy. He can be an asset to us.”

“Umm, I could say the same thing about your being nice with Brad,” Amber pointed out as she limped toward her room. “You must tell me the rest of this date. Girlfriends are supposed to do that, you know.”

“Horrors, next you’ll want us to paint each other’s toe-nails,” Lily quipped.

Amber laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind for our next slumber party,” she promised lightly. “Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

She quietly closed the bedroom door and leaned against it.
Don’t go there.
Hawk’s quiet words came, sliding between her and the painful images. She took a deep breath, finished her drink, then started to undress.

As she headed for bed, the laptop by her bed caught her eye. She crawled between the sheets and purred appreciatively. Her laptop was on an adjustable table that slid over the bed at lap level. Within such easy reach, it was way too tempting. She had to check.

Yes, he was online, waiting for her, it seemed. She found it disconcerting that he read her mind and knew that she would look for him.

Don’t you ever sleep? You’re always up, no matter what time of the night it is!

There wasn’t a reply for a few minutes. Maybe he was asleep after all. It didn’t matter. Amber yawned, then grinned. Maybe he was tired out from the night’s activities.

I was waiting for you. Make sure you got home safely.

Damn. So much for that thought.
I can take care of myself, Hot Stuff.

You had a rough night. Thought you might want some company.

She was touched at his concern. He’d said it would be tough to shake off the memory of what she’d seen. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms.
Will the anger ever go away?

No.

What do you do about it?
How did one live normally after watching that? She bit her lip. How did those girls she helped out live normally after going through that? She was beginning to understand that the stories she had been told before were a mere fraction of this horrific display of inhumane torture.

I meditate.

His reply surprised her. Meditate? He didn’t look like the meditating type.
Like ohm-ohm-the universe is perfect? Not my cuppa.
She preferred to deal with a problem more directly. Like total destruction of Dilaver’s network, for instance.
You’re full of surprises, Hot Stuff.

So are you, Ambrosia. Not just a pretty face, after all.

She could hear the smile behind the words. She had only met and talked to the guy, what—three times?—yet she could read between the lines, understand that he was trying to distract her. It dawned on her that the guy was very much a gentleman, in an odd covert operative sort of way. She laughed softly. She supposed she could reciprocate and give him the same comfort he was offering—gently teasing each other to sleep.

I’m not the only one with a pretty face, you know. But I’m sure you know that.
He was, by far, the nicest-looking man she had seen in Velesta, or anywhere, for that matter.
I’m sure you hear that all the time.

Yeah, all the time.

Must be tough.
Amber almost asked him whether he had any special girlfriend waiting for him somewhere, then shook her head. Where did that come from? It was none of her business. A man who looked like him had to have lots of girlfriends, if not one.
Girls must flock around you like bees to honey.

Actually, they make me feel like a candy bar. Or a big pizza with all the toppings.

Startled by his reply, Amber settled back against her pillow for a few moments.
Wow, do you really feel that way?

A pause.
Sometimes.

She didn’t quite know what to say to that. She had started out teasing him and he had once again flummoxed her. She thought of how he had looked when she had first seen Hawk…the outline of his body against the windowpane, with outside snow flurries forming a halo around him. She hadn’t known he was totally nude then, but that sight of him had caused her to pause. In fact, she realized now that it had given him the split second he needed to realize he hadn’t been alone. She smiled ruefully. An assassin she was not.

Go to sleep.
He interrupted her reverie.
I’ll contact you when I’m able.

Where are you going?
Would he tell?

No idea. D’s going on the road, and that’s good. He wants me with him on this trip, which has to do with other business, so that’s good.

She understood what he wasn’t saying. Dilaver was beginning to trust him more, and this trip had to do with weapons, not women.
Okay, Hot Stuff. Hamburger waiting for ya when you get back.

5MW/MTL/PF/18/69. ’Night, Ambrosia.
He signed off immediately.

Amber stared in disbelief. It was the same line he had written on the side of her thigh, but she had just realized 69 wasn’t on her menu. She clicked off the program with a snort. Smart-ass.

Veza.
Every country has a form of exploiting
connections, and Hawk was finding out that the Slavic states were practically run through
veza.
The right connections could get one a good government job, or a bigger, better-equipped hospital room, or a place in the university. In the world of mercenaries,
veza
could get one freedom to move from province to province, state to state, without too much trouble.

Through his weapons and drug trades, Dragan Dilaver had accumulated and given many
vezas,
thus making him very powerful. His weapons, Hawk discovered, were very much sought-after. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Hawk that what he had couldn’t be found on the streets yet, that they were the most current state-of-the-art weaponry. Someone in the United States had been dropping these shipments for him to distribute in any way he wanted, as long as he armed the KLA. Of course, Dilaver made sure he made a lot of money while following orders.

“My aunt is a genius, isn’t she?” Dilaver boasted, as they rode through the bumpy roads in a Humvee, courtesy of a
veza
with a high-end peacekeeping official. “She’s coordinated this for years, you know. I’m really looking forward to meeting her again.”

“When’s she coming?” Hawk asked. He wanted to know who this “aunt” was, too.

Dilaver shrugged. “She says she’s been delayed and will call again later. I want to get as much of the business in order as I can so she can see I can take care of bigger things, you know?”

Hence the road trip. Dilaver wanted to take care of certain gangs who hadn’t been “respectful” enough. He also wanted Hawk to see how it was done over here. Hawk knew it was also a test to see how he would handle a “situation” if he were to work for Dilaver.

Hawk didn’t mind. Taking out a gang was appealing, anyhow. Who cared whose side he was on? They were all alike, in the same trades, killing each other over illegal weapons and drugs. All this watching and waiting was wearing on him; he looked forward to taking a few of them out. And along the way, he would be mapping Dilaver’s routes and trying to find out where the weapon depots were.

Their convoy rode boldly through the city streets onto scenic country routes. Dilaver’s men were armed to the teeth, waving weapons at passing vehicles. Sometimes they shouted, their anticipation of some action ahead obvious to Hawk. He understood the adrenaline running through their blood; he felt it, too.

“Sometimes I miss being young,” Dilaver commented, gesturing at the younger men leaning out of their open Jeeps. “They aren’t afraid of dying. They just want to kill.”

“Are you afraid of dying?” Hawk asked.

“Of course not. But I don’t take stupid chances like I used to. Money and old age will make one a cautious man, Hawk.”

Hawk ran his hand down the AK-47 standing between his legs. It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that mercenary-turned-old-farts became pimps, just as Dilaver now was. Somehow, he didn’t think the kingpin would like to be called that. He deliberately changed the subject. “So we’re going to cautiously attack some group of militia, and then what?”

Dilaver laughed. “Cautiously attack? Damn your odd American-Serbian translations. In this country, it’s all war and no caution, my friend. That’s why I keep solidifying my power base. That’s why I make and take care of certain friends in need of
veza.
You never know who will help you out later on, so you help out as much as you can.”

“That…doesn’t make one bit of sense, but keep talking,” Hawk said.

“It’s easy to demonstrate. This group we’re going after has been bothering a few friends of mine. I also suspect they’ve been hijacking my shipments. Now, you lead my guys and take out this group, right? My friends will hear of this, and also your connection to me, and now you can get some favors done through
veza,
you see? You’ll be a friend, too. Around here, you can’t buy connections, like you do with the coffee money stuff in Asia; you earn it. Much more deserving, don’t you think?”

In a twisted sort of way, yes, it made sense. But then, everything in this world was twisted. The talk of friendship and loyalty. The camaraderie between two “blood” brothers, talking about life and sharing locker-room jokes. All this sandwiched between bouts of violence. These were things Hawk valued in his life with his SEAL brothers. Yet now he had to function the same way with his enemies.

It sickened him to see the horrifying similarity from the other side. And now he had to go out and kill in the name of collecting
veza.
He knew the veneer of humanity was very thin in the war front, and once killing became a cheap thrill, there was very little left to distinguish right from wrong. And those young men riding open shot in the convoys were just going for the cheap thrills of bloody action and quick cash.

Hawk thought of the girl who was so violently raped last night, and the look of anguish and betrayal in Amber’s eyes. He wanted to destroy Dilaver’s network and take out those men one by one, not for the thrill of action, and certainly not for cash. For those girls. And to take away Amber’s pain and grief.

He clung to the image of her crying and aiming a weapon at the group of rapists, and somehow it clicked in his mind that the sight of Amber represented reality to him. She knew and understood the twisted world she was living in was fake, that everything happening around her—the friendships and the bondings—wasn’t real. She had been able to do this for four years and still cried at not being able to help the helpless.

“Besides, I have good reasons to get rid of them,” Dilaver continued. “I want this area under my control.”

The closest city was a few hours drive away. The roads had slowly deteriorated and became more like country paths.

“Why?” Hawk asked the obvious question. There was nothing here.

“You’ll see.”

There was a shout informing them that they were closing in, to get ready for attack. Hawk looked out the window at the pretty countryside, with the shadows and sunlight of dusk settling in, giving it a postcard effect that belied the tragic horrors of war happening in its cities. The truth was hidden in this twisted world.

So what truth was Amber Hutchens hiding? For the first time, Hawk admitted to himself that he wanted to find out because he needed something—someone—solidly real, and not some abstract reason, on which to hang his sanity.

“Ready, Hawk?”

“Ready,” he said, as he watched all the men spill out of the vehicles, scrambling toward the top of the hill. Time to stop thinking.

Hawk jumped off the Humvee, grabbing his weapons in both hands, and not glancing at Dilaver, started running. No use being a sitting duck contemplating about life and death in the vehicle. He’d get himself killed.

The ground under his feet rumbled with the familiar sound of an exploding grenade. Clumps of earth flew up over the crest of the hill. When he reached the top, he went down flat on his stomach and started a belly-crawl. The scene from his vantage point showed a chaotic battle under way. Apparently, the only strategy these guys knew was pretending to be cowboys and Indians. Circle the wagons and make a lot of noise while shooting. He didn’t think Jazz, the co-commander of his SEAL team, and the consummate strategist, would approve. There was nothing to do but aim and shoot as bullets whizzed past.

“Hawk!” Dilaver shouted from behind. He was limping but was still able to keep up with his men. He came up close behind Hawk. “Take a few of my men and circle around to the other side. We’ll cover this side. Once they know they’re surrounded, they’ll surrender.”

“Care to tell me first why this band of brothers is in the middle of nowhere like sitting ducks?” Hawk shouted back.

“They’re guarding territory. And looking for something.”

“What?” Hawk shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll get rid of them and collect my
veza
points first.”

Dilaver smacked him on the back. “There you go. Now you get how we do business here.”

Hawk studied the area quickly, noting the landscape and impending nightfall. A barrage of RPGs and small arms fire disturbed the air. Hell, he didn’t need anyone to help him. But this was a test of his skill and he wasn’t going to show his hand just yet. After all, he was merely a guide who happened to be in excellent shape, not a mercenary. Or a Navy SEAL.

He signaled to two of Dilaver’s men whom he’d gotten to know. They were the most skilled ones, least likely to get too excited when sneaking up toward the enemy’s rear. For now, he had to view them as part of his team.

“Bring grenades,” he ordered briskly. “We’re going to make a lot of noise.”

Amber closed the container. “That’s it, that’s the last one,” she said. “Do you have the drinks and clothes packed?”

“Yes, and I have the car out back, ready to load.” Lily taped the box she had filled up with clothes. “I think this will be enough for this and the next group.”

The boxes of clothes, food, and amenities were for the young girls they had in hiding in various basements around Velesta. The girls needed a few weeks to recuperate from their injuries. Those who were stronger helped the weaker ones.

Amber stacked the containers near the doorway. “We have to be careful,” she cautioned. “Our groups are getting bigger and we don’t want Dilaver to start getting too suspicious.”

“So it’s good we have your Hawk to tell us he isn’t in town, right? We can do our runs and maybe tell Brad to get in another raid.”

Amber cocked her head. “So are you calling Brad again today?”

“You can.”

“I will, if you’ll tell me what happened last night.”

Lily scowled. “I told you—nothing happened.”

“Right. And that isn’t a hickey on your neck.” Amber grinned when Lily smacked at a certain spot on her neck and made off to the bathroom. There wasn’t any hickey, but she’d tossed the lie out to see how her friend would react. Now she knew for sure that Lily and Brad hadn’t just had dinner.

“Bitch! There’s nothing there!” Lily yelled from the bathroom.

“Of course. Nothing happened, so how could there be any hickey?” Amber laughed when Lily reappeared, her dark eyes flashing threateningly at her. “Ooooh, busted again, huh?”

Her friend made a face at her, running a careless hand through her short tresses. Her gold ear hoops jiggled and glinted against the black hair. Her smile turned rueful. “Oh, okay, so we kissed.” At Amber’s raised eyebrows, she made another face. “Among other things.”

“My, things are progressing between the two of you, aren’t they?” Amber took a bite from a freshly baked cookie.

“Yeah, well, don’t expect it to progress too much,” Lily muttered as she moved some of the boxes.

“Why not? Lily, he likes you. You like him. That’s a good thing.”

Lily looked up. “Since when is getting involved emotionally a good thing when it comes to people like me?”

So that was her problem. Amber finished her cookie, eyeing her friend thoughtfully. “Lily, sometimes the future isn’t so bleak, you know? You don’t have to see yourself as a career criminal for the rest of your life.”

“Right. I don’t go around making illegal art bids and not have a reputation among certain people. And oh yeah, involvement with shady people who run guns, make fake passports, and are basically mercenaries looks so good on my résumé.”

Amber went over to Lily and pulled her by the arms. “Look, I’ve known you for four years and we’re friends, aren’t we? You never did tell me why you chose this lifestyle. You’re beautiful, know enough about art to tell me something about your background, and yet you’re running around with people who are using you to make money. Why?” She gestured with her chin toward the boxes and containers. “I know it has something to do with the girls, but you make it very personal, Lily. You’ve never told me the reason.”

Lily’s eyes met hers for a long time, as if she were considering whether to tell Amber the truth or half of it. “Why are you a contract agent for the CIA?” she asked quietly. “You hate them.”

“I don’t
hate
them, hate them. I just know they are users.” Amber released Lily’s arms. “They see me as an asset because I provide them with information they need for their analyses and political games. I see them as a way to help these girls out of this hellhole. I met some of the luckier ones in the States, runaways who had stories to tell and no one who truly cared, and I wanted to make a difference. Throwing money at organizations didn’t seem to help. I know this, I was part of one and all they did was hold fund-raisers and play with numbers to get more funding as the kids became hopelessly lost in the system. So I opted for an unconventional way. You know this. I’ve already told you the story of my life.”

“You have a big heart, Amber,” Lily said quietly. “Don’t your parents miss you?”

“They were missionaries. They know I’m just continuing their job, only in my way. Besides, they’re happily retired now with their own little café in Florida.” Amber missed them, actually. She hadn’t called home for a while now. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want, Lily. I know some of it is too painful for you.”

Amber was, after all, a contract agent. Backgrounds were made up all the time. She had chosen to tell Lily the truth a couple of years ago, when they had become closer friends. Their partnership had started very slowly, when it became obvious Amber needed help. She couldn’t run a CIA front
and
travel around the region moving girls in and out of hideouts.

“Do you remember how we met?” Lily asked.

Lily Noretski had appeared on a prayer, when Amber had accompanied a businessman to an illegal art auction out of curiosity. After they were introduced, she had dropped by The Last Resort a few times when she was in town. Amber liked her. Lily was eclectic, well traveled, funny as hell, and totally fearless when it came to handling weapons and dangerous situations. Amber had seen it herself one night when they were accosted by some thugs who had thought they had found some candidates for their
kafenas
.