He walked away.
She sat there trembling until the sun had set and the temperature began to drop. Night creatures took flight. The scent of flowers and the sickly sweet smell of decaying foliage was replaced by the smell of cooking food. Her stomach growled. Most of the men disappeared into the largest building. Only a few were left on patrol.
Now, she told herself. This was her moment to escape. There was only one problem. She couldn’t free her hands. She’d tried several times. The ropes were tight enough to scrape off layers of skin. Her fingers were nearly numb.
“Jamie, can you get free?” Rick called from behind her, speaking for the first time since they were captured.
“No, can you?”
“Uh-uh. They’ve got me tied tight. Don’t worry. Our team will come after us.”
“You, maybe,” she muttered. “Zach will be thrilled to have me done in by the enemy. It will prove all his theories correct.”
They sat in silence. She tried not to think about how hungry she was. Or the fact that she had to go to the bathroom, or what would happen later.
In the distance, she heard an odd, high-pitched shrieking. It wasn’t a bird, yet the sound was familiar. A heartbeat later, something slammed into the largest hut and exploded. The noise was deafening. Had she been standing, the explosion would have knocked her off her feet.
A stun grenade.
Men on patrol staggered around, obviously disoriented. Seconds later three dark shapes slipped into camp. There was a blur of movement, then the guard fell to the ground unconscious. The rescue team separated. One of them ran toward Jamie.
She recognized Zach. Relief brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked back the weakness.
“Havers is dead,” she said quickly as he reached behind her and cut through the ropes. “They shot him in the jungle. There are about two dozen men in the big hut. Another dozen on patrol. Ernesto is here.”
Zach glanced at her then. He wore a close-fitting black jumpsuit and a black cap on his head. There were smudges on his face. A hundred or so feet away, someone fired a gun.
Zach finished with her legs and pulled her to her feet. The rush of pain almost made her sick. He held her for several seconds as she breathed in slowly. Blood filled her numb limbs. She shook her feet, then flexed her fingers.
When she could stand on her own, Zach handed her the knife and a pistol. Then he did the strangest thing. He touched her cheek. Just once. His dark gaze met hers. She caught her breath. There was another gunshot. Zach turned away. “Get Rick,” he said, and was gone.
By the time she got to Rick, men were spilling out of the large hut. They staggered around, covering their ears and their eyes. The wind carried the scent of tear gas. Sporadic gunfire cut through the night.
When Rick was free, she helped him up. Her legs and hands still burned, but it was getting better.
Rick swore. “This hurts like a son of a bitch.”
“Tell me about it. Try walking anyway. We’ve got to get out of here.”
They started inching toward the edge of the compound. The men were still stunned and staggering. Jamie kept an eye on them. Dark shapes slipped around, taking care of anyone who regained his senses too quickly.
One of their rescuers grabbed Ernesto. She was too far away to hear their conversation, but she knew the man in black was Zach. She watched closely. Then a flicker of movement caught her attention. Something in the brush. A shadow. A glint of a rifle aimed at Zach’s back.
There wasn’t time to do anything but act. She pushed Rick out of the way and raised the pistol. As she squeezed the trigger, she reminded herself that her still-stinging arms wouldn’t be able to handle the recoil. She willed herself to stay strong and fired three bullets into the soldier. The man sank noiselessly to the ground.
Across the compound, Zach’s dark gaze found hers. He’d been wrong about her inability to take a life. She’d just taken her first. The thought should have thrilled her. Instead of celebrating, she took two steps, bent at the waist and vomited in the bushes.
Chapter 3
Three days later, she was still being debriefed.
“There was no warning before Nick Havers was shot?”
Jamie stared at her boss. She’d met Winston Danville III briefly, when she’d been accepted as a trainee. The man had white blond hair and icy blue eyes. There was something ominous about him.
He wore a gray suit with a white shirt and navy-and-red-pin-striped tie. He should have looked like an executive. His office was plush, his chair leather, his desk big enough to serve as a runway for small aircraft.
“No, sir,” she said firmly, although inside she was shaking.
He flipped through the file in front of him. “It says here you were the best recruit we’d hired in years. So why’d you act so irresponsibly?”
Jamie glanced to her left. She could see Zach sitting on a chair against the far wall. He’d accompanied her to all her debriefings, except for the one with the agency psychiatrist, and now he was silently observing her conversation with Danville.
Best recruit? Who had told him that? “Sir?”
“Rick Estes got the three of you lost. Well, the two of you. I doubt Havers was lost. Why’d you let Rick take charge if you knew he was wrong?”
Jamie grimaced. “You’re right, sir. I should have said something. He’d never acted like that before. It threw me. I kept track of our course. I was pretty sure about where we were. I’d drawn a map and—”
“You had a map?” Danville asked.
“Yes, sir. We weren’t given one, and that seemed odd. I didn’t think the point was for us to get lost.” Now she wasn’t so sure. “Was it?”
Danville didn’t answer the question. He shuffled a couple of papers on his desk. “According to your file, you’ve never expected special treatment because you’re female. You’ve pulled your weight. Why this sudden shyness around Estes? You sleeping with him?”
Jamie raised her chin slightly and met Danville’s chilly gaze. “Intimate relationships between agency operatives aren’t forbidden, sir. But, no, Rick and I are friends. I let him because—”
She hesitated. Dammit, she hated that she’d messed up, and on her first assignment, too. As for why she’d behaved so foolishly…she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him the truth. She sneaked another quick glance at Zach. His impassive features didn’t give her much in the way of advice on the situation. She drew in a breath and figured she might as well risk making a fool of herself.
“I hadn’t been sleeping well. Nerves, I guess. I was tired and not a hundred percent. In addition, I couldn’t shake this feeling.”
“What feeling?” Zach asked, speaking for the first time.
His low voice made her shiver. She didn’t know what he was thinking, which was probably a good thing. But oddly, instead of resenting his presence, she drew comfort from him. He was the devil she knew. His brand of justice was swift. He wouldn’t torture her. If he thought she screwed up, he would just let her go.
“I had this prickling at the back of my neck.” She lowered her gaze to her hands and stared at the raw sores encircling each wrist. The ropes had rubbed away her skin. “I felt that something bad was going to happen. That’s why I made a copy of the map. I didn’t want to be unprepared.” She stiffened her shoulders and waited for his laughter.
“Why didn’t you report this feeling of yours?” Zach asked.
She turned to look at him. “What?”
“Obviously