Part 6 (2/2)
Nicole cast a blank glance backward, confused by her own feelings.
She knew she should be ecstatic her incarceration was finally coming to an end, yet...it felt like some invisible force was telling her to stay. The rational part of her brain knew it was absurd nonsense, but as she watched the steel doors close firmly behind her, she felt like she was relinquis.h.i.+ng hold of some intangible but extraordinarily significant dimension to her life.
She would never see Kira again.
Ever.
She shook her head.
The only explanation for this illogical sentimentality was a condition she'd studied in one of her psych cla.s.ses-it was called Stockholm Syndrome. It was a psychosis in which hostages or kidnap victims slowly begin to feel affection for their captors.
”Yep, that's definitely gotta be it,” she reasoned, climbing up the shaft with a manufactured enthusiasm.
Once outside, she pushed the tiny ache in her chest away from her thoughts and inhaled deeply. Fresh air. The perfumed breeze was filled with the uniquely pungent scent of Kenyan vegetation. Every pore in her body tingled. After several days inside the bunker and breathing recycled air, the cool splendor of the early-morning dampness was invigorating. She looked up. The sky was clear and the stars sparkled, but she didn't recognize a single constellation.
”The sun won't be up for a bit,” Bogie informed her, s.h.i.+ning an industrial-sized flashlight on the artificial rock so Stella could reset it back on its concealed hinges.
”We have a two-mile walk ahead, but without the benefit of daylight, the trek will be hard. Don't fall behind,” he advised. ”And stay alert. This isn't a park.”
”Okay,” Nicole replied, still too confused to make much sense of anything. For the first twenty minutes of the hike, as her body adjusted to the chill of the early morning as well as Bogie's rapid pace, her mind remained preoccupied with images of Kira and that earth-shattering memory of their kiss. She said nothing to her two hiking companions, not even questioning the details of her sudden release or the intricacies of her transport back to the Unites States. But finally her brain cells fluttered to life.
How do I know where they're leading me?
Her heart dropped into her empty stomach. All was serene and quiet, no sound other than their footwear falling softly on the dirt and the occasional crunch of foliage as they pa.s.sed under or over a bush. The moon was a fading silvery crescent as the sky slowly began to lighten. Stella looked back at her and Nicole could see concern in those big dark eyes.
”Okay, kid?”
Stella. She liked Stella. The eccentric Ukrainian wouldn't do anything to hurt her, Nicole was sure of that.
She trusted Stella.
Wham!
It hit Nicole so quickly her knees went weak and she lost her balance.
Win her trust.
How stupid could she be?
Kira hadn't failed. She'd won.
Nicole had blindly followed Stella and six-foot-five Bogie into the African wilderness with no protection other than the knife bobbing up and down somewhere in the folds of her luggage.
”Here she comes!” Bogie suddenly announced.
They'd emerged from the forest into a flat, treeless valley glistening with the first brilliant rays of the dawn's warm red-gold light. Bogie was pointing a large ebony finger toward the eastern horizon. Nicole lifted her eyes to the sky, the warmth of the sun's yellow beams warming her cold cheeks as the sounds of a helicopter grew closer.
”It's beautiful,” Nicole breathed in awe. Her fears and apprehension left her now that the helicopter was in sight. She really was heading home.
And she was trying to relish her first and only African sunrise, but Stella was now pacing in a circle, her eyes darting nervously back and forth.
”I must tell you something!” Stella shouted to Nicole over the increasing noise of the approaching copter.
Nicole recalled Stella's face last night when the lights flickered on. There was no doubt from her expression Stella had known something had occurred, but did she actually witness the kiss between her and Kira? What was it she wanted to say to her now? Stay away from Kira, she is mine? But there had been no glint of malice in those black eyes last night, no dull hurt s.h.i.+ning from their depths; only disapproval mixed with censure, and those sentiments seemed to have been aimed at Kira.
”Shevchenko, it will work itself out in time!” Bogie shook his bald head. ”Leave it alone!”
Stella volleyed back, ”Time is something we don't have!” There was another comment, but her husky accented words could no longer be heard, dissolving into the bl.u.s.tering currents of air blasting across the gra.s.s. The helicopter was landing just a dozen feet away, making conversation near impossible. She continued to look imploringly at Nicole, her dark eyes intense. Frustrated, the dark-haired Ukrainian reached into a leather satchel she'd been carrying across her back, grabbed what appeared to be the airplane paperwork and a pen, and scribbled something on the outside of the ticket jacket before shoving it into Nicole's canvas bag. Bogie grabbed Nicole's hand and pulled her toward a tall, broad-shouldered man emerging from the helicopter's c.o.c.kpit.
She looked back toward Stella and waved as if she were saying farewell to a friend rather than some fantastic character from the most bizarre episode of her life, which already seemed like a dream. Bogie winked at her before giving her a mock salute.
”Ready to go for a ride?”
Nicole nodded at the tanned, rugged pilot and within minutes they were airborne. The hilltop with its hidden underground burrow vanished from her sight. She reached inside her bag to retrieve the ticket jacket Stella had given her, searching for the words she'd written in such haste. There they were, scribbled along the frayed edge of an advertis.e.m.e.nt for an American Express card: Remember the Tin Man.
What the h.e.l.l was that supposed to mean?
And what had Bogie meant about it working itself out in time? What would work itself out in time?
”You okay back there?” The dark blond pilot asked once they'd been flying for a few minutes. She saw he'd removed his aviation headphones and was waiting for her to respond.
”Great!” she mouthed, giving him the thumbs up.
”We have a quick detour to make before we land at the airport!”
A frisson of alarm curled up inside Nicole's stomach as her mind ran wild with crazy possibilities. Yet her instincts told her the good-looking pilot with the gorgeous hair, American accent, and chiseled features was harmless. He practically reeked of s.e.xy charm, from his perfect white-toothed grin down to the engaging twinkle in his dark blue eyes.
”Why don't you come sit up here next to me? It's a much better view, and this way we won't have to keep yelling at each other!”
Nicole maneuvered up to the c.o.c.kpit.
”You can't leave Africa without having a glimpse of one of the most breathtaking sights you'll ever behold,” he said into his microphone after handing Nicole an extra headset, watching as she placed it over her ears.
The domed winds.h.i.+eld offered a completely different perspective than the rear pa.s.senger seat window. Miles and miles of unpolluted earth filled her view. There were no roads, no vehicles, not even one building to stain the majesty of the African landscape. The pilot reached under his seat and produced a pair of binoculars for her to use, a sly smile twisting his lips just before he grabbed the throttle and veered the copter south.
”Helicopters are noisy. So I don't disturb the animals, I'll have to stay up a good height, but you'll still get quite an eyeful.”
Nicole nodded, pleased he was thoughtful enough to consider the well-being of the wildlife. She adjusted the scope of the binoculars to fit her face and settled back into her seat to enjoy the ride. When he pointed a tanned finger, she took a few seconds to focus the binoculars, and gasped. Less than twenty minutes later, she'd seen herds of gazelles galloping across the plains, a family of giraffe foraging through the spa.r.s.e branches of an acacia tree, and a lone rhinoceros bathing in a pool of muck and glaring at them severely enough so Nicole was glad she was out of his reach.
”This is the Masai Reserve. It's protected against hunters and poachers. If we had time, I'd take you to the Mara River, but at least this morning you'll get to see the march of the wildebeests.”
They were heading back north, and just to the left of the copter, Kira could make out a lengthy train of what looked like moose, and she said as much aloud.
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