WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) (20 page)

“Oh, Seth.” Kirra tugged on his backpack.

He stopped and faced her. The sympathy on her face was so misplaced, he snarled, “Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s my fault those people are dead. I trusted the general. When he offered me a chance to be part of a secret force, I jumped at the opportunity to make a real difference.” He shook his head. “The general knew exactly what to say to me and my teammates. We’d become frustrated with the lack of progress we’d been making in the region. We wanted a chance to change that.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, we changed it all right. We killed innocent people, which not only helped enforce the control of the drug cartels, but undermined the reputation of the U.S. in the region. Some heroes we were.”

“You were manipulated,” Kirra said. “It’s not your fault.”

“We. Killed. People,” Seth ground out. “The very same people we were supposed to be protecting. Do you have any idea how I felt when the special agent in charge of the investigation showed me photos of the burned bodies of my victims? When I realized that it wasn’t an elaborate setup, but that I was truly responsible for killing women and children?” He’d hated himself so much, he’d almost thrown up. “We were supposed to be the good guys.”

“You didn’t know what you were doing was wrong.” Kirra got up in his face. “You believed you were killing bad guys. It’s horrible that you killed the wrong people, and of course you feel badly about it, but it’s not your fault.”

“You don’t fucking know what you’re talking about. It doesn’t fucking matter that no matter how many times I review the situation I can’t recall any clue that pointed to the general’s true intent. Those deaths will remain on my conscience until I die. How can I trust my judgment ever again? How can I count myself on the side of the good guys when so many people have been hurt or have died because of me?” The lid holding back his emotions cracked, threatening to spew out a geyser of guilt and grief, fear and pain. And anger. So much anger.

Anger at himself for being gullible enough to be deceived. Anger at the general for treating Seth and his men as mere pawns. Anger and guilt that Michael had died instead of Seth.

The acid-sharp emotions ate away at his tenuous restraint. His muscles tightened, preparing for violence.

“Seth?”

The look of sympathy in Kirra’s eyes nearly blew away the remaining threads of his control. He spun away from her, terrified that he might lash out. If he hurt her…

Staring blindly at the jungle, he sucked in deep breaths until he no longer felt compelled to do violence.

“It’s not your fault,” Kirra said.

“I’m done with your fucking psychoanalysis. Leave it alone.” Directing all his searing emotions into a fast walk, he attempted to leave her behind.

He had to get them out of this damn jungle to somewhere with not only a clearer line of sight to the telephone satellites, but with electricity he could use to charge the phone. The sporadic patches of light filtering down through the jungle canopy weren’t sufficient, and he needed to call Dr. LaSalle again.

The sun had dipped close to the horizon when Seth and Kirra stepped out of the trees and found themselves at the edge of a bluff overlooking a narrow strip of grass and bushes. The grassy area ran along the top edge of a river canyon. The late afternoon sun glinted off the water at the bottom.

On the other side of the canyon was a small, fenced-in industrial complex.

Seth held his arms out to the side so Kirra couldn’t walk past and nudged her back until the trees hid them.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured.

He lowered his arms and motioned for her to take a look while staying behind the protection of the trees.

After she’d studied the scene, she met his eyes. “Do you think this is a government facility? Or run by someone who might help us?”

“Unlikely, but I’ll check it out.”

He slipped out of his backpack, removed his binoculars, then hid the pack in some bushes. Frowning slightly at him, Kirra did the same with her pack.

He crawled into the line of bushes edging the top of the bluff and raised the binoculars. Kirra settled in beside him.

He estimated that the distance from the top of the bluff to the strip of grass and bushes below was at least twenty-five feet here, more to his right as the bluff rose before ending at the intersection with a second river canyon.

About fifty yards to their left, a one-vehicle trestle bridge spanned the river. A narrow dirt lane on this side of the river led left away from the base of the bridge and disappeared around a bend. Two bare strips of dirt indicated that the lane was used frequently enough to prevent weeds from growing where the tires hit.

At the far end of the bridge, two men guarded a single-armed, wooden gate. The gate wouldn’t stop a determined attacker, but the guards’ AK-47s would.

Beyond the gate, the road led up to a gate in a chainlink fence topped with barbed wire. Anyone passing in or out would have to get approval from the guards standing in front of the wooden guard shack.

On the other side of the fence, the road split to the right and the left. A paved parking lot held two dozen vehicles. Probably for employees who worked in the largest building—a squat, concrete block three stories high. To the left, Seth counted five outbuildings that appeared to mostly be storage sheds and garages, plus four industrial holding tanks to hold liquids.

Seth cursed softly.

“What’s wrong?” Kirra murmured.

He handed her the binoculars. “Take a look.”

K
irra focused the binoculars
. The setting sun turned the windows of the main building into squares of molten gold and crimson. “Hmm…Is this some sort of military facility?”

“No. See that orange patch on the guard’s uniforms? Those are Sankoh’s men. That’s probably a processing plant for illegal substances. I bet not far from here is a field for cultivating the raw ingredients.”

“I don’t see any foot patrols or dogs,” Kirra said. “We’re too far away for me to tell if they have security cameras.”

Seth chuckled beside her. “That’s my sneaky thief.”

Kirra’s breath caught. While she liked the admiration in his voice, she wasn’t happy about keeping her thief moniker. “I’m a retired thief,” she murmured.

“Okay.” He patted her on the shoulder.

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“We should—”

The chugging of an engine interrupted him. Kirra flattened herself to the ground. Next to her, Seth did the same. Returning her gaze to the binoculars, she watched as a rusted
bakkie
drove into view on their side of the river. Baskets overflowing with large leaves filled the cargo bed. A man in Sankoh’s uniform sat among the baskets, an AK-47 resting on his knees. The driver and the passenger were dressed in civilian clothing.

Seth grabbed Kirra’s arm and tugged. She glanced at him. He nodded toward the deeper cover of the bushes behind them. Kirra scooted backward. She’d moved only a few inches when the ground shifted beneath her. She threw herself to the right as the earth crumbled, taking Seth with it.

No!

She reached for him, but Seth plummeted down to the road. He landed hard on his back, accompanied by an avalanche of dirt and underbrush.

Kirra slapped her hand over her mouth to stop from screaming his name.

The
bakkie
shuddered to a stop a few meters from Seth. Kirra eased out of sight, stopping when the ground felt stable beneath her but she still had a view to the road.

Down below, the rear guard stood up and shouted a question. The driver lowered his window and answered, gesturing to the road in front of him.

The guard hopped out and strode toward Seth, rifle raised. He barked a question at Seth. When he didn’t answer, the guard repeated his question, only louder. Seth still didn’t answer, so the man kicked him hard in the ribs.

Kirra winced, but Seth didn’t so much as twitch.

Heart in her throat, she wished for a rifle or a grenade launcher as the guard kicked Seth several more times. Finally, the guard motioned for the others to get out of the vehicle. The driver and the passenger picked Seth up and threw him into the bed of the
bakkie
. The guard turned toward the cliff, raised his rifle, and fired several bursts toward Kirra’s position.

But the angle was wrong and while the bullets shredded branches and chipped bark off of trees, she wasn’t hit.

Keeping perfectly still, she breathed shallowly until the guard climbed back into the bed of the
bakkie
. He fired one more round toward the top of the cliff, then banged his fist on the cab’s roof. The driver drove forward and turned onto the bridge. The noise from the metal floor shaking nearly drowned out the sound of the engine.

Kirra raised the binoculars to her eyes and slipped into thief mode. Each detail she catalogued would help her formulate a plan to rescue Seth.

The guards at the other end of the bridge flanked the
bakkie
when it reached them. One of them got into a heated discussion with the guard watching over Seth. He pulled handcuffs off his belt and tossed them at the guard, then jerked his head toward Seth. It was hard to be certain in the failing light, but Kirra thought Seth’s body tensed before the handcuffs went on.

Relief flooded her. He was alive.

Once Seth was secured, the guards inspected the cargo. One of them even looked underneath the vehicle before waving it on.

Forget hiding on the next vehicle that passed by.

The guards turned to study the bridge. One of them gestured at the cliff. The other one shook his head and pointed toward the guard riding in the
bakkie
. He mimicked shooting toward the cliff, laughed, then shrugged as if saying that the other guard had already taken care of any additional intruders.

His companion frowned, but neither one moved from their positions.

Right, then. Her first challenge would be getting to the other side without being spotted by the guards.

Next she turned the binoculars on the guard house at the gate. Those guards also stopped the
bakkie
and gave it another thorough inspection. They both scowled at Seth. One of them poked him with the tip of his rifle before his companion slid open the gate.

The
bakkie
drove into the compound, turned left, and parked at the side of the main building. A team of four armed guards exited the building, pulled Seth out of the vehicle, and dragged him inside.

The
bakkie
started up again and drove over to a building emitting a thin plume of smoke. Probably the processing plant, if Seth was correct about the facility’s purpose. The driver and his passenger hopped out and began unloading the baskets. Two men from inside the building soon joined them. The guard watched the proceedings from his spot in the bed of the
bakkie
.

Kirra kept a mental tally of the men she’d seen and their locations. She wished she had some of the tools she’d used when setting up a heist. And more time to determine how many people occupied each building.

A shiver of excitement with an edge of fear slid through her. She’d never worked a job where she had to bring another person out of a building.

Her wild side relished the challenge.

Ten minutes later, all of the baskets had been carried into the building. The guard hopped to the ground, nodded good-bye, and headed toward the main building. The driver and his passenger climbed into the cab and drove to the front gate. Once outside, they turned away from the bridge and disappeared to Kirra’s right, down the road that ran along the other side of the canyon.

Since the sun had just sunk below the horizon, Kirra expected they were heading home for the night.

For five minutes, nothing else happened. Then a black four-by-four drove into sight, coming round the back right corner of the main building. It exited the main gate and barreled across the bridge.

Kirra hurriedly backed up. She didn’t think there was any way to climb the cliff, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Their backpacks were well-hidden in the bushes, so she climbed a sturdy tree.

Sure enough, the four-by-four stopped at the base of the cliff. The guards jumped out of the vehicle and fired into the trees, but Kirra had anticipated that and chosen a hiding place well down from where Seth had fallen. After several minutes of shooting, the men switched to searching. They peered over the edge into the canyon, shone their torches along the underside of the bridge, and stomped back and forth along the lane, poking their rifles into the bushes. Then the leader gestured toward the top of the embankment. One man attempted to climb up, but the ground crumbled beneath his feet and he fell back. Two more men chose different starting places, but they also failed to gain solid handholds.

Finally, the men piled back into the four-by-four and returned across the bridge. They stopped at the gate. One of the men exited, placed a few objects on the ground, then motioned for the bridge guards to join him in the vehicle.

Holding her breath, barely believing that the guards would truly leave their posts, she watched as the four-by-four returned to the compound and disappeared behind the main building. After five minutes passed without the appearance of a relief team, she accepted that the bridge post had been abandoned for the night.

Which only left the guards up at the main gate.

Brilliant.

She studied the line of sight from the bridge to the guard house at the main gate. If she stuck to the middle of the underside of the bridge, the guards wouldn’t be able to see her cross.

Then what?

She moved the binoculars to the left of the compound. Her best best was to aim for the left front corner of the compound where the distance between the canyon and the fence was the narrowest. She should be able to work her way through the thin bushes along the edge of the canyon without being spotted. Then she’d wait until full dark before sneaking onto the compound.

Assuming that the fence wasn’t electrified or dogs weren’t let loose after dark.

Since the light was failing, she needed to cross the bridge now. She climbed down from the tree, then grabbed both backpacks. Seth’s was the heavier, so she put that on her back and slipped her pack onto her front.

She walked left until she found a spot where the bluff dropped down to the dirt lane at less than a ninety degree angle and a line of trees along the canyon’s edge hid the area from the main gate. Lowering the packs to the ground, she pulled out the small reel of para cord Thabo had insisted she carry as part of her emergency supplies. She quickly tied one end of the cord to the packs, wrapped the other end around a tree trunk, and lowered the packs to the road below. Since she might need the cord again, she untied the end and let the cord drop on top of the packs.

Then, flat on her belly, with her head facing away from the drop, she grabbed a sturdy bush for an anchor and eased over the edge.

One. Two. Three.

She released her hold and let herself slide down. She landed in a crouch at the bottom and held still as dirt and stones tumbled past her.

After listening for any indication that the guards had spotted her or heard the noise of her descent, she dumped out both backpacks. She might have a chance to return this way, but in case not, she needed to put together the most essential items. Pulling out her large, pouch-shaped carryall, she packed quickly, adding her emergency kit, a few MREs, the phone, the torch, and her water bottle. To stop the items from shifting while she moved, she stuffed in one change of clothing each for herself and for Seth.

Satisfied that the bag wasn’t any heavier than the knee-high wooden statue she’d once stolen and had to carry out on her back, she closed up the bag. Then, using the para cord, she quickly made a harness to secure the carryall to her back so that it wouldn’t bounce.

After repacking the backpacks, she hid them deep inside a thicket of bushes at the very edge of the canyon.

All right. Let’s do this thing.

She slipped through the trees at the edge of the canyon until the trees gave way to bushes. Dropping to her belly, she crawled through the bushes toward the bridge. The familiar anticipation buzzed in her veins as she slithered over the edge of the canyon and stepped onto a protruding rock. Standing up slowly, she tested the rock’s stability. Okay, it should hold her.

This first bit was dangerous, as she had to breach the distance between where her feet were and the base of the first support. She spared a glance down. The river rushed past far below. If she fell onto the bank, the impact would likely kill her. She might survive if she landed in the water, assuming sufficient depth.

She shook out her hands and feet, took a deep breath, and felt her mind click into that special state where every detail became crystal clear and her body was simply another tool to be used. Ignoring everything except where she needed to put her hands and feet, she successfully transferred her weight onto the bridge. Elation shot through her. She hadn’t lost her touch.

So much for not wanting to keep your reputation as a thief.

Well, in this instance she had to admit that the hours she’d spent moving along rooftops and climbing in and out of high-rises came in handy. She could justify using her skills by saying she was going to rescue Seth. But nothing justified the thrill of knowing that she risked her life by crossing underneath the bridge like this.

Moving through the supports turned out not to be as easy as she’d told Seth. While she kept in shape by exercising, including spending time on the gym’s rock wall, her body had been through a lot in the past several days. Aches, pains, and exhaustion slowed her down. The bag on her back altered her center of gravity enough that she felt slightly off balance. Fear hovered at the edge of her consciousness, but she couldn’t afford to acknowledge it or she’d lose focus and make a mistake.

Kirra, when are you going to stop pulling these stunts?

How many times had her mother asked that question?

Right now, Kirra pitied anyone who’d never felt this rush, this intoxicating thrill of pitting your wits and your body against lethal odds. She grinned as she moved through the supports.
Just watch me now.

She’d almost reached the other side when her right calf cramped as she attempted to transfer weigh to it. The pain momentarily blinded her. Her foot slipped. She threw herself forward and grabbed the vertical beam with both arms while her left foot swung in mid-air, searching for a foothold.

Heart in her throat, she sighed in relief when her toes finally met metal. Kirra transferred her weight, then quickly shifted over to the wider foothold offered by the concrete base.

Pain continued to shoot up her calf, and Kirra bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry out. Breathing slowly and deeply, she pressed her cheek against the concrete and rode the wave of pain until it finally subsided. Moving gingerly, she made it the rest of the way to the other side. Then she crawled up the small rise to the edge of the canyon.

Resting on her belly, she studied the scene before her. A few vehicles drove toward the gate. The lead car exited, then turned down the road in the same direction as the
bakkie
had gone.

Good. End of the day meant fewer chances of someone spotting her. Now, if only she could figure out how to get inside the building and free Seth.

With the deepening dusk hiding her, she eased her way along the edge of the canyon, careful not to jostle the bushes. She stopped when she reached a point that she judged to be too far for the guards to see clearly. Taking out the binoculars, she surveyed the facility. A moment later, the outside lights went on, temporarily blinding her. Cursing under her breath, she waited for the spots to vanish from her eyes, then examined the line of cars exiting the facility.