Chapter Twenty-Two 4 page

Zoe squeezed Gianna’s hand to stop her. She’d kept it together so far, but the thought of being left alone, with the rebels so close, terrified her. “I’m coming with you.”

“I’ll move faster alone. I’ll be nearby, I promise.” Gianna quietly removed her backpack and set it next to Zoe.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Never,” Gianna replied. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She slipped a cool metal object into Zoe’s hand. “Take this.”

It was the handgun she’d seen Gianna pull earlier with the snake. She tightened her fingers around the grip.

“It’s ready to use,” Gianna whispered. “Point, shoot, and don’t hesitate.”

“God, what if I shoot you by mistake?”

“I’ll signal you. A bird call, okay?”

“Just a few minutes, right?”

“Right.” Gianna moved away in a crawl with her rifle, disappearing instantly into the high grass.

Zoe hefted the hard, heavy metal in her palm, feeling its weight. She’d never held a weapon before, much less used one. How could she aim properly, not knowing what to do, and with her hand shaking like it was? She didn’t even dare put her finger on the trigger, terrified she’d fire it by mistake and bring the guerrillas running back.

She’d never felt so afraid, and every noise increased her panic. Though she’d come to recognize many of the normal sounds of the rainforest—the hum of insects, the screech of monkeys in the treetops, the screams of parrots—now she interpreted everything as the possible return of the guerrillas. She contemplated running in the direction Gianna had gone. Go after her instead of waiting. “Control the fear,” she remembered. “Use it to tell you what you need to do.” She listened to her instincts. They were telling her to wait.

The rain started again and Zoe was glad to have it wash away the sweat pouring into her eyes. The drops tickled her nose, but she didn’t dare move. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she clenched her abdomen, hoping that would stop the noise. Please, not now.

Each second that passed seemed eternal. It felt like Gianna had been away for months. What if they’d found her? What if she was dead? The mere thought of someone harming Gianna added anger to her fear. No. Surely she would have heard something.

Finally, a bird call sounded from close behind, and Zoe would have sighed in relief if she’d dared. She felt the hand on her shoulder before she heard the words.

“Follow me,” Gianna whispered in her ear. “Stay very close.”

“All right.” She gave the handgun back to Gianna and they started to move deeper into the jungle, keeping low and moving quickly but quietly. It was so dark she could barely see a few feet; she kept running into fronds and brush and who knew what else, so she grabbed Gianna’s waistband and held on. Not long after, they stopped at a massive tree several feet in diameter, negotiating their way over the enormous roots that snaked out from it in all directions.

When they reached the other side of it, Gianna got down on her knees and Zoe followed. They crawled under what must have been roots and into a deep depression that felt very cave-like, with damp earth surrounding them except for the opening they’d come through. It was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

Beside her, Gianna was rummaging in her pack.

“This should keep us dry and the crawlies at bay,” Gianna said, keeping her voice just above a whisper.

Zoe felt the familiar material of the tarp against her hand. She helped Gianna spread it out, lining their little cave beneath and behind them. “Where are we?” she asked, in the same hushed tone.

“Under the tree’s roots.”

“I feel safe here,” Zoe said. “Can’t see anything, but I don’t care.”

“Good, because we’ll be here at least a few hours.”

Zoe felt around her surroundings. There was enough room for both of them to lie down, she gauged, if they put their packs at their feet by the entrance. “I was so afraid. I’m still shaking.”

“Yeah.”

“You?” She was surprised. So far, she hadn’t witnessed Gianna showing fear at anything. Well, okay, except the snake.

“I’m okay now,” Gianna said.

“I don’t know how you can do this for a living.”

“Do what?”

“Live in constant fear.”

“It’s not always this bad.”

“Once is enough for me.”

Silence fell between them, and Zoe tried to relax and get a nap. But she was too charged up with adrenaline, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened if the guerrillas had discovered them. She was desperate for a distraction. Any distraction. So she said the first thing that popped into her head. “What do you do for fun?” she asked Gianna.

“What?”

“When you’re not off in some country saving lives.”

“I don’t know. Whatever normal people do. I read a lot.”

“How often do you get to go home?”

“It depends. I’m not permanently stationed anywhere. I get assigned to a job every few months. They last anywhere from a week to a couple of months. This is the longest I’ve been away.”

“Do you hang out with friends back home?” Zoe knew she was babbling, but she didn’t really care. It was keeping her mind off her panic.

“Not really. I don’t know many people. I hang with Landis. We work for the same organization. She’s ten years older but I feel comfortable with her. We talk about work and… all kinds of stuff.”

“Is she a soldier too?”

“No. She gets different jobs.”

“What’s your company called?”

“I can’t talk about that.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Don’t be. It’s a natural question.”

This Landis was the first person other than Sam that Gianna had mentioned, and Zoe was curious about their relationship. “Do you party with her?”

“I used to. But then I stopped going to bars and clubs.”

“They do get tedious after a while.”

“Yup.”

“Do you date?”

“Why the third degree?”

Gianna didn’t seem to mind her other questions, but her tone changed when she brought up women. Was she still mourning Sam? “You don’t have to answer. It’s just…well, I need to talk to keep from panicking. I’ve always done that.”

Gianna didn’t say anything for a long while. “Sam was the first woman I ever dated, if you can call it that. I never had the chance to take her out on a proper date. We met in Afghanistan where she was serving and I was sent there to extract hostages. We kept very quiet about our affair.”

“You never got to be together outside of that?”

“No.”

“So she died there.”

“She died making sure I wouldn’t get hit.”

Zoe could hear in Gianna’s voice how painful it still was for her to talk about Sam. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“So that was the first and last time I…dated.” Gianna said it in such a way that it sounded like she had resolved not to let herself experience that kind of pain again.

“You don’t think you ever will?” Zoe asked.

“I don’t think about it. After Sam, I didn’t want to be anywhere near another woman. Besides, my life isn’t conducive to a permanent relationship. It’s easier to keep things simple.”

“By doing what?”

“Keeping things superficial.”

“With women, you mean.”

“That’s what you were asking, right?”

Something wasn’t quite adding up. Gianna wasn’t dating anyone regularly, Zoe got that. But she’d also said she didn’t know many people, and that she’d stopped going to bars and clubs. “How do you meet anyone if you never go out?”

“A little while ago, I found another way to get a few hours of…company.”

Zoe didn’t know what Gianna was alluding to. She couldn’t possibly mean… “You pay for it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I mean, you’re gorgeous. You could have your pick of women.”

“I don’t need or want to spend the energy on getting to know someone I don’t plan to invest in. And it’s not fair to them, either.”

“It is if they know the situation.”

“They always say they do, but it’s seldom the case. Often enough they walk away feeling bitter, upset, or used when I refuse to give them my number or don’t ask for theirs.”

“Do you enjoy it with…” Zoe tried to find a politically correct term. She didn’t want to offend Gianna.

“Call girls?” Gianna supplied. “It’s…satisfying, I suppose.”

“Don’t you miss the emotional connection?”

“Don’t you?”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t have anything to compare it to. It’s always been about the act, never the person.”

“I miss it occasionally,” Gianna finally said.

The conversation was helping Zoe’s nerves, and Gianna was becoming more interesting with every revelation. Zoe had never met anyone like her. How, if she got back home, would she ever be able to revert to empty conversations with the circle of people she regarded as friends? Except for her best friend, who was now a mother and devoted wife, the rest were only interested in parties, clothes, and expensive gadgets. After all she was going through, and after getting to know Gianna, the prospect of returning to her gratuitous life now seemed unbearably devoid of significance. “Once I thought I knew what I wanted. But after my mother passed away, the will to carry out that vision died with her.”

“What was it?”

“She was a true philanthropist and humanitarian. She spent every spare minute campaigning and raising funds for Doctors Without Borders. I envied and admired her persistence. So much, I almost became obsessed with studying medicine so I could join. I’d just started my first year at Oxford when she died. My goal reminded me too much of her, and I eventually dropped it. Instead, I signed up for economics and business management. I never liked it, and between partying and recreational drugs, I barely finished.”

“It’s not too late.”

“I guess. But I wonder if anything I have to offer will make a difference. So much pain and war, hunger,” Zoe said. How could she possibly change lives? “Sometimes I feel only an act of God could make any difference. And I’m far removed from any divinity.”

“It depends on how you look at it. God can exist in a much more tangible form. For the hungry, God is a plate of food. For the dying, someone who comforts them. And for the orphaned child, God is a woman’s warm embrace.”

Again Zoe was struck by how different Gianna was from anyone else she’d ever spent time with. She’d obviously seen and done more in her life than Zoe could even imagine, and Gianna viewed the world with an unusual depth of understanding and compassion. “And for the soldier?”

“The enemy who shows mercy.”

“That happened to you?”

“To me, to others. I’m alive because someone once decided to spare me. That makes him a God in my eyes.”

“Yes, it does,” Zoe said softly. “And I’m glad they did.”

She still couldn’t see anything in their dark hole, but she heard movement beside her. Gianna was evidently changing positions to get more comfortable.

“Try to get some rest,” Gianna told her. “We’ll have to move again soon.”

“Okay. By the way, it’s your turn to ditch your mask. I’ll put mine back on.”

“Deal.”

Zoe fumbled in her pack for her mask and pulled it on, then stretched out on her side and put her hands between her legs, trying to warm them. She’d felt a bit chilly since the sun went down, and now she was cold. The tarp didn’t protect them against the cool earth of their little cave, and her clothes were still damp from the rain. The stress of the last hour probably wasn’t helping either. She was shaking, so she rocked herself trying to get warm.

Moments later, Gianna’s warm body spooned up against her from behind. Gianna’s arm encircled her waist. “Better?” Gianna asked.

“Much.” She relaxed into the sweetest embrace she’d felt in years and was soon asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

October 24

Fetch lay awake long after Zoe’s trembling stopped and her breathing slowed. She heard her mumble in her sleep a few times, restless, and held her tighter to reassure her. When Zoe sighed and snuggled back against her, Fetch realized how much, under other circumstances, she would be content to lie for long hours in such an embrace. She was protective by nature—of hostages, other ops, the innocent. It was why she was so good at her specialty in the EOO. But with Zoe, her guardian instinct was much more profound and deeply personal. She didn’t just want to keep Zoe safe from the rebels, but from any pain, now or in the future.

She was alert to all the sounds around them, making sure the guerrillas hadn’t returned. After a couple of hours, she allowed herself to drift off, thinking she’d better get an hour of sleep or so. Then they had to get moving again.

She woke up to rays of light coming in through the roots. Cursing under her breath, she checked her watch and found it was nearly six. She was lying on her back, and Zoe was curled up around her, her head on Fetch’s shoulder. She nudged Zoe’s arm lightly. “Zoe, wake up.”

Zoe immediately sat up, fear in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. We overslept.”

“That all?”

She nodded. “Get your gear ready. We have to leave ASAP. We’ve lost too much time.” She reached to put her mask back on, but Zoe stopped her.

“I’m okay with mine on. Let’s just get out of here.”

Not long after they emerged from the hole, they reached an open ridge with a clear view for miles. Fetch dug her HUD contact lenses and cell phone with its portable hand charger from her pack. After cranking it for a couple of minutes to ramp up the phone’s battery, she put in her contacts, turned on the phone, and activated the GPS. Their coordinates immediately lit up in front of her on the optical head-up display on the lenses. Then she oriented her direction, removed the lenses, and soon they were slogging through the jungle again. “No talking today,” Fetch told Zoe in a low voice. “They may still be around and I don’t want any more surprises.”

“I’ve had enough excitement, trust me.”

“Take this.” Fetch handed her the Glock. “Always keep it pointing down unless you mean to use it. And try not to shoot your foot.”

“I can’t promise.” Zoe looked bewildered.

“You’ll do fine.” Fetch smiled at her. “Stay close.”

She led Zoe in the direction of the safe house, constantly alert for any sign of movement and listening intently for any voices or other man-made noises amid the constant din of the jungle’s inhabitants. Trying to quickly cover as much ground as possible, she zigzagged through the sparse undergrowth under the thick canopy. She had her M14 ready in her hands, and when they reached places where high, dense plant life blocked their way, she used the rifle’s barrel to part the way, careful not to leave a trail. Zoe stayed right on her heels, and Fetch was proud of how quietly she was moving.

They drank water and munched panela as they went, stopping only once during the next six hours. A little after noon, they skirted an exposed ridge Fetch recognized. She’d seen it from a distance while walking between Barriga’s camp and the rebel encampment nearest the safe house. She relaxed a little. They were making good time and were now a good distance from any known guerrilla camp or trail. And if she was right, the slope they were about to descend should lead to one of the many small tributaries of the Guaviare River that ran through the area.

“Water,” Zoe said when they glimpsed a stream through the trees.

“Yup. I knew it was around here.” It was a very picturesque spot. A waterfall fed a clear pool, about twenty feet across and surrounded by emerald green fronds. The pool fed the wide stream they’d first spotted.

“Can we stop for a little?” Zoe asked.

“Enough to fill our flasks and bottles.”

“Ten minutes, please.”

“Why?”

“It won’t take me longer than that to wash. I can’t stand my own smell any longer. In and out, I promise.”

Fetch thought about it. “It’s been quiet so far. No sign of them having been this way.”

“In and out.”

Fetch looked over at the waterfall. The force of the water had carved a wide, deep depression in the cliff face behind it. “Should be safe behind the fall,” she said. “Follow me.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She threaded her way through the fronds until they reached the cliff face. From there, she could see a wide rock ledge behind the waterfall, a couple of feet above the surface of the pool. It was perfect. She hugged the rock face and climbed over to it, with Zoe right behind her. The ledge was dry, about five feet wide. The water between the ledge and the thick wall of water cascading down from above them was deep but clear. The bottom was mostly sand, with scattered clumps of large rocks.

“You can take a break from the mask,” Fetch said. “I know you can’t wait to dive under.” She pulled her own mask back on as Zoe removed hers.

“How about you?”

“I’ll wait my turn. And stay on the lookout.”

As Zoe started to undress, Fetch averted her eyes. Not because she wanted to, but because it was the decent thing to do. Also, she’d seen that lovely body before and did not need that kind of distraction after yesterday. She positioned herself under one edge of the waterfall, where no one could see her if they approached the pool, but where she could occasionally step out to check the area.

A big splash behind her told her Zoe had jumped in, so Fetch turned to watch her.

“It’s wonderful.” Zoe smiled broadly as she slowly treaded water. “First, a good night’s sleep, and now this.” She ducked her head under to wet her hair. “A bar of soap and conditioner and this could be heaven.”

As much as Fetch hated to admit it, the sight of the clear water was mouthwatering. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bathed, and it took all her restraint not to dive in. “You almost done?”

Zoe laughed. “Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

Zoe swam to the ledge where Fetch waited. “Give me a hand?”

Fetch averted her eyes while she pulled Zoe out.

“Your turn,” Zoe said as she slipped past Fetch and headed to where she’d left her things.

Fetch set her rifle against the cliff and practically tore off her mask and clothes. She dove in and came up close to the waterfall, then climbed onto a large flat rock that allowed her to stand directly beneath the spray. Closing her eyes, she let the water beat on her body. It might be harsh out here, but at times like this it was exhilarating. After a couple of minutes, she slipped off the rock into the pool outside the waterfall to survey the area. It was shallow here, the water only waist-deep. Satisfied they were still alone, she stayed in the shallows and ducked back under the stream of water, crashing into Zoe on the other side.

Zoe grabbed Fetch by the waist to steady herself. She had nothing but her mask on. “I couldn’t resist,” she said, looking into Fetch’s eyes.

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” Zoe pulled Fetch close. “And so are you.”

Fetch’s breath caught as Zoe’s breasts touched her own. She looked down at the most beautiful breasts she’d ever seen. “You’re amazing,” she whispered, as she encircled Zoe’s waist.

Zoe’s gaze drifted down Fetch’s body, too, taking everything in for several seconds. Then, looking back up at her with an appreciative expression, Zoe brought her hand up to Fetch’s face. She slowly traced the contours of her features as if memorizing them—jaw, to cheek, to forehead and eyebrows, down her nose—and paused briefly when she reached Fetch’s lips.

As she gently outlined them with the tips of her fingers, her eyes fixed on Fetch’s mouth, Zoe said, “I want so much to kiss you.”

“You are,” Fetch replied, and threaded her fingers through Zoe’s hair. She nudged her thigh between Zoe’s.

Zoe gasped, and her head fell forward to rest on Fetch’s shoulder.

Their breathing was so fast and loud it blocked out the sounds of the jungle. All Fetch could see, hear, and feel was the woman in her arms.

Zoe slowly moved against her leg as she traced Fetch’s arm and the side of her breast with her fingertips.

Fetch wanted to rip that damn mask off Zoe’s face and devour her. She pulled Zoe’s head back, and the desire she saw in Zoe’s eyes undid her. She cupped Zoe’s full breast as she kissed, then sucked her neck. Zoe moaned, and Fetch grabbed her ass and lifted her until Zoe was riding her thigh.

Zoe dug her nails into Fetch’s shoulders. “So good,” she whispered hoarsely in Fetch’s ear.

“This is crazy,” Fetch murmured between bites and kisses.

Zoe lifted her head to look at her and their eyes met. “Please don’t stop yet,” Zoe pleaded, and moved her hand between them to Fetch’s stomach.

Fetch was finding it hard to breathe; her heart was pounding so loud it was ringing in her ears. “We could be dying,” she managed to say.

“Impossible.” Zoe moved her hand lower on Fetch’s abdomen. “I’ve never felt more alive.”

The piercing screech of a nearby parrot startled them and snapped Fetch back to reality. Reluctantly, she set Zoe down. “We should go.”

They dressed quickly, neither speaking of what had just happened, but every time Fetch glanced at Zoe, Zoe was looking at her, her eyes full of regret and longing. After they’d reapplied their mosquito repellent, filled their flasks, and shouldered their packs, Fetch pulled out her mask and put it on. Zoe merely nodded and put hers away.

As they headed toward the safe house, Fetch forced herself to focus on the dangers ahead, remaining alert to any sign or sound the rebels were nearby. But although her head was in the right place, her body rebelled against her decision to pull away from Zoe. She was still humming with arousal.

Because of the terrain, they would soon have to pass relatively close to the path that led between the two guerrilla camps. It was the only way they could get to the safe house by the deadline Montgomery Pierce had given Fetch, so from now on, conversation was out of the question. Zoe remained quietly behind, and both, as if by silent agreement, avoided eye contact.

As they marched on through the rest of the afternoon, Fetch replayed the recent change in the dynamics between them, focusing primarily on how she was different now. In the past days, she’d confided in Zoe not only her name, but parts of her life she hadn’t shared with anyone. She had even proposed to Sam before she’d revealed her real name, and had definitely never talked about her past encounters with women.

Why did she trust Zoe? Because the possibility of imminent death loomed over them? Or, somewhere deep inside, did she know Zoe would never judge her? And she hadn’t, even when Fetch had confided she paid for sex.

But the most dynamic shift in her world was that, for the first time, she felt safe around another person. Safe to be who she was, to express what she believed and explain how she lived. Although Zoe’s world didn’t resemble her own, Zoe hadn’t once expressed distaste or lack of understanding. Instead, she’d listened and respected Fetch’s ideals.

The real Zoe Anderson-Howe was nothing like the woman Fetch had imagined from the tabloid stories; she’d gotten under her skin in a way she’d never have thought possible after Sam’s death. They were now only a day or so away from rescue, and she should be celebrating the fact that Zoe would soon be home with her father again.

But Fetch felt sad about their inevitable parting and the fact she’d likely never see Zoe again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Zoe couldn’t ignore the cramping in her gut any longer. Every time it rumbled, Gianna turned to look at her, puzzlement in her dark brown eyes. Like she expected a scene from Alien to unfold before her. When she could bear the persistent pain no longer, she finally tapped Gianna’s shoulder. “I have to go,” she whispered. How embarrassing, not only having to submit to bodily functions out in the open, but to have the woman she’d just shared the hottest ever make-out session witness it.

Another extraterrestrial sound rumbled from her abdomen, so loud it was audible several feet away. Her digestive tract had been giving her fits most of the time she’d been captive. Not surprising, given the stress, the marching, the lack of sleep, and the diet, especially recently with all the canned beans they’d consumed. But this was by far the worst she’d experienced. She had to have relief, and it wouldn’t be pretty. “This is so embarrassing,” she murmured, doubling over as another cramp tore through her.

“Sounds bad.” Gianna looked around, her forehead furrowing.

They were in dangerous territory, but this would happen very fast. “I’m desperate.”

Gianna retrieved the toilet roll from her backpack. “See those bushes?” she pointed to a dense thicket.

“That’s too close.” Zoe wheezed as another wave of cramps consumed her and she broke out in a sweat.

“It’s not. I need to be close enough…just in case.”

“Okay,” Zoe muttered. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She grabbed the toilet paper and started away.

“Zoe,” Gianna called after her in a low voice, “You have a gun. Use it if you have to.”

Once she’d ducked behind the thicket, Zoe peeked over the top and saw that Gianna was only a few feet away. This was so not right. She’d never be able to function like this, and if she didn’t, she’d explode or pass out. She glanced quickly around for another option. The area had lots of foliage and tall trees, but most of it wasn’t thick enough to conceal her well. Finally she glimpsed a suitable place forty feet or more farther away and took off toward it.

Zoe set the gun on some moss in front of her and quickly pulled her sweats down. As she’d expected, it wasn’t pretty, and even this far from Gianna she was glad for the ambient noise of the jungle. She finished and had just tied her sweatpants when someone poked her from behind. “Not funny, Gianna. This is a private moment.”

“Hola, chica.” A man’s voice, the words just above a whisper.

She froze for a second or two, startled, then went for the gun.

But he must have seen it, because he kicked it away before she could reach it. When she slowly turned around he was watching her with bemused brown eyes. Tall and lean, with a scruffy beard, he held a rifle. He spoke a few words in Spanish that she didn’t understand, then another soldier in camo emerged from behind him, also carrying a rifle. He was stockier, and shorter—about Gianna’s height. Both men were wearing masks. “You are difficult to find, Brit,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But we always get them, heh?” he said to his friend.

“Si, siempre,” the first man replied as he picked up Zoe’s gun. “Nice,” he said. “Mina.” He tucked it in his waistband.

“Take us to the others,” the English-speaking soldier demanded, dragging her by the hair.

No way would Zoe lead them to Gianna. She jerked away from him. “There are no others.”

The second rebel smacked her across the face. “Talk, puta. Where?”

“I don’t know what you’re—” The man hit her again, even harder, and she lost her balance and fell.

He pointed his rifle at her head. “Where?” He was scowling.

Zoe rubbed her face but refused to answer. They would kill her anyway. She wouldn’t get Gianna killed, too.

When she didn’t reply, he yanked her up by her hair. It hurt like hell, but Zoe didn’t cry or show any pain. If she was going to die, she would do it with pride and not kneel to these fuckers. He held her in front of him like a shield and shouted, “We have your friend.”

The other soldier stood ready with his rifle, scanning the brush in every direction. Every time he heard the slightest sound, he quickly pivoted in that direction. Left, then right, but it was always some bird or other creature.

“Come out, Medica, or I kill her,” the man holding her yelled when there was no response. After more silence, he shouted, “Maybe me and Miguel fuck her first.” He put his face beside Zoe’s ear. “You want that, puta?” he asked, his foul breath escaping his mask.

Fetch froze for an instant, all her senses snapping to high alert, when she heard the male voice. She crept over to the bush where she’d sent Zoe, keeping low. From there, she glimpsed the guerrillas through the underbrush. Two of them.

She had a clear shot of the one with the gun, but the other rebel was hidden behind Zoe. If she took out the first, the other would kill Zoe on the spot, before she could reach them. As much as he needed to take her back to his chief, he wouldn’t risk his own life.

Fetch moved closer from a different angle to get a better aim at them both.

Just then, the soldier holding Zoe pulled down her sweatpants and Zoe screamed. “Maybe your friend left you for us. Like a gift, right, Miguel?”

She tightened her grip on the rifle as she fought to suppress her rage. All she could think about was snapping his neck for touching Zoe. “Motherfucker,” Fetch said out loud. “Leave her alone,” she shouted in Spanish. “I’m coming out.”

“You try anything and I kill her, Medica.” He turned in the direction of her voice, keeping Zoe in front of him. The second man, the one he’d called Miguel, had turned as well and had his rifle pointed her way.

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 646