Part 5 (2/2)
And, of course, Stella's frantic announcement about the children in one of the villages being in peril.
”G.o.dd.a.m.n,” she whispered to herself. ”That's downright diabolical.”
Everything that had happened, every last bit of it, had been a crock. Nothing more than a well-orchestrated theatrical production designed to convince her that she was in danger; that bogeymen were after her and closing in fast. But the question that remained was why?
Why the need to manipulate her?
”Evidence, my a.s.s,” she whispered out loud. Whatever they were after was much more valuable than her father's notes about some military wacko selling guns to nut-jobs in Libya.
Or wherever.
The sound of Kira's boots clacking on the concrete drew nearer.
She shoved the paper back into the drawer.
”Shouldn't you should be sitting?”
Nicole looked up, composing her features carefully.
”Actually, I'd just like to go back to my room and rest for a while,” Nicole managed to mutter through dry lips, her heart pounding.
Kira scanned the desktop. ”Sure,” she replied coolly, peering toward the desk's drawers and then back to Nicole's face.
Do not crack! Breathe normally!
Despite her own admonitions, Nicole's last intake of breath seemed to solidify into a ma.s.sive lump in her throat.
”No aspirin, but I found some ibuprofen.”
Their fingers touched during the exchange of the small white packet. A tremor of awareness shot up Nicole's arm, straight down her spinal cord and into her soul.
”You've had a lot thrown at you. We'll talk more later. Can you make it back to your room by yourself?”
Nicole nodded.
”Nicole.” Kira's voice was low, but it sounded like a roar in Nicole's ears. Reluctantly, she turned, certain guilt was written all over her face. ”Don't you want something to wash down the pills with?”
Kira stood casually against the wall, holding a bottle of water in an outstretched hand. She grabbed the water, avoiding Kira's eyes.
Chapter Nine.
Nicole bolted upright with a start, afraid she'd slept through the night and blown her chances of escape. She glanced at the time on her Timex. The tension left her at once. Not quite eleven at night.
She pulled the long string cord dangling from the ceiling light while reaching for the Ziploc bag Stella had dropped off for her earlier. The trusting Ukrainian seemed to have bought her tale about not feeling well-”maybe a relapse, Stella”-and left Nicole alone, urging her to rest. Under the guise of illness, Nicole had been able to spend the rest of the day in bed so she'd be fresh for tonight. Her sleep had been broken and restless, remembering her times with Danielle and her father as she tried to reconcile their memories with their new personas: spy and traitor.
She couldn't.
She also was afraid that at any moment Kira would come bursting through the unlocked steel door demanding to know where her father's hiding place was. But she stayed away, and Nicole did finally manage to get some sleep.
Famished, she pulled the soft sandwich from its protective plastic. As she ate a very American peanut b.u.t.ter with grape jelly on wheat bread, she pulled her duffel bag from the closet and shoved only the essentials she would need into it. The rest of her belongings she would have to leave behind. She tested the bag's weight. Good. Light enough to carry without becoming an immediate strain on her shoulders. She had a long walk ahead of her.
With some trepidation, she slipped her feet into her hiking boots. Her toes and heel were still a little sore, but she'd manage. At the bathroom sink, she drank greedily from the faucet. It might be a while before she found water, so she filled up the now empty bottle Kira had given her that afternoon. When she was done, she wondered if the water supply might not be safe to drink. Maybe they only used it for bathing. All of the water she'd been given to drink had been in sealed plastic bottles. She shrugged her shoulders. If she should become ill from any invisible organisms swimming about her gut, hopefully it wouldn't happen until she was far, far away from here.
If all went as planned, she'd be on her way back home by this time tomorrow.
Opening the bedroom door, she peered down the corridor to make sure the coast was clear. Somewhere in the darkness ahead was another windowless chamber where Kira lay sleeping. At least Nicole hoped she was sleeping. Kira had worked the late s.h.i.+ft the previous night and should be dead tired.
Patting her thigh, she felt the securing comfort of the small lump hidden in the loose pocket of her jeans. That afternoon, as she lay awake wondering why now, all these years later, these people wanted whatever it was her father had hidden away somewhere, and what it was-because it certainly had to be something far more important than evidence incriminating a man who's been walking around free for the last twelve years-she'd remembered her pocketknife and started searching through her duffel bag for it. Last night, Bogie had warned her about the nearby marijuana farms. The dull, rusty four-inch blade wasn't much to defend herself with should she cross paths with a hungry lion or one of those plantation workers, but it was all she had and it was certainly better than nothing. Pulling her knife from its sheath, she gripped the weapon's handle tightly and cautiously made her break for freedom.
Creeping stealthily and hugging the wall, she propelled herself forward. She kept peering back, certain at any moment Bogie was going to rush from the inky shadows to tackle and drug her before locking her up for the rest of her life in this cement vault. A light emanated from the kitchen. She had to go past it. Hopefully no one was awake, indulging in a late-night craving for one of those boxed meals or tins of cookies.
As she drew closer, she dropped to her knees and crawled. When she reached the kitchen door, she paused to listen. All was quiet except for the steady swish of the air blowing through the ceiling ducts. With some hesitation, she poked her head into the room and did a quick scan. There was an open bag of chips on the table and an empty plate near the sink but not a soul in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, she moved onward, her hiking boots occasionally squeaking as the rubber sc.r.a.ped against the hard stone. Every time they made the loud screeching noise, she'd cringe and stop, waiting for the discovery she felt was inevitable.
The fabric of her jeans provided a decent barrier between her skin and the cement, but there wasn't any padding to protect her kneecaps, which began to ache and grow sore from the impact with the hard concrete. Holding the knife in her right fist while she inched along on all fours was also irksome and uncomfortable. Minuscule granules of sand had become embedded in the sensitive surface of her fingers between the knuckle and the fingernail, and the pressure of her weight pressing down made it feel like she was crus.h.i.+ng the small pebbles into her bones.
But those were just little things, inconveniences she could endure as she remained completely focused on getting to where the labyrinth of tunnels converged as fast as she could. From there, all she'd have to do was figure out which one of the tunnels would take her back to the narrow shaft with the ladder and then she'd be free.
Up ahead now, maybe only ten more feet to go. She crawled faster now, ignoring the pain in her knees and the cramping. Five more feet...
”Where do you think you're going?”
Nicole froze. Kira.
”Did you really think it would be as simple as walking out of here in the middle of the night, Nicole?”
She didn't have to turn around to know that Kira was amused. There was no telling how long Kira had been behind her, watching her with a smirk on her face before saying something. This infuriated her even more than being snuck up upon from behind and having her escape thwarted. She stood up, brus.h.i.+ng the dust from her jeans and the fragments of cement from her hands.
”At least tell me how you were going to get through the steel doors?” Kira went on, a trace of laughter in her voice. ”They're bolted shut and can only be opened with a code.” She emerged from the shadows, her lips twisted in a mocking smirk. ”A code, I might add, that's exceptionally intricate and hard to decipher.”
Her hair was pinned up in a comb-like clip at the back of her head, long silky tendrils hanging loose around her face and neck in s.e.xy dishevelment. Other women spent hours striving to perfect that fas.h.i.+onably careless look, but Nicole had no doubt Kira hadn't given her appearance more than a second's attention.
”I figured it all out, Kira. Not your imaginary code, but your game.”
Kira said nothing. There was just enough light for Nicole to see one dark shapely brow rising in mute inquiry.
”The gadget around your wrist is just as much of a charade as every other thing that's happened to me since boarding my bus back in Nairobi. There are no bolts and codes. There are no sinister madmen with machine guns after me. The only thing keeping me here is my own delusional thinking-aided by you and your friends every step of the way. I gotta admit, it was a pretty good plan-waiting to strike while my stress level was at its highest and my body was weak from sickness and fever. Did you study theater at college? Because you're a great actress. Just like those people on my bus. They were all in on it, weren't they?”
”I suspected you'd been snooping when I left you alone in the office. You're very easy to read, Nicole. Although your daring impresses me, I'm more disappointed by your lack of planning. What would you have done if you'd managed to escape from here? It's pitch black outside and something tells me even if you did have a compa.s.s, you wouldn't know your north from your south.”
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