Captive of Fate Read online

  Her feet were throbbing, and she took off her shoes, rubbing the toes tenderly. Matt suddenly appeared at the end of the hall of scattered crates, striding quickly toward her. His narrowed gray eyes were black with an intensity that frightened her. The Costa Ricans quickly retreated as he knelt by her side.

  “What happened?” he demanded huskily.

  She made a weak gesture. “I was stupid enough to stay in the tent when the tremor began. They told me afterward I should have run for an open area. I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss.”

  His eyes lost their hardness as he anxiously searched her features. He removed the cloth from her bloodied fingers. “Head wounds always bleed heavily,” he offered. He pulled out his own clean handkerchief and pressed it against the injury. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re pale as hell.”

  She felt incredibly stupid and embarrassed. “Just get me out of here. I can’t stand all these men staring at me.”

  The corner of his mouth tugged into a semblance of a smile. “Want me to carry you, or can you walk out under your own power?”

  “I’ll walk,” she promised hastily, gripping his hand and standing.

  As Matt escorted her out into the dusk, Alanna heard one of the policemen yelling excitedly in his native tongue. She halted, twisting around.

  “What is it?” Matt demanded, frowning.

  “Something…wait. He’s saying that some medical supplies in at least a half a dozen boxes are missing. Oh, my God,” she said, automatically walking quickly toward the raised voice.

  Matt remained at her side, saying nothing, a scowl deepening on his unreadable features. Alanna hurriedly entered the conversation as Matt prowled around the broken crates, sifting through the contents. He looked over at her.

  “Ask him to get me the sheets on this shipment, will you?”

  Hastily, Alanna translated. She bit her lower lip, watching Matt with building dread. Did he know about this? If he did, he was certainly masking it effectively. He looked upset, despite his ability to control his emotions in a tense situation. The policeman returned, giving him the documents. He got up, moving back to where she stood.

  “They’re in Spanish,” he growled.

  She wrote down the products and quantities that should have been in each crate. Matt personally counted each of the items against the bills of lading. It was growing dark when he finally called a halt to their investigation.

  “Let’s get down the mountain,” he ordered. “We’ll complete the search tomorrow morning.”

  Alanna agreed, aware of how taut his facial muscles had become. There was an air of tightly checked anger about him as he slowly escorted her to the awaiting chopper. To her relief, Jim Cauley wasn’t the pilot. Right now, she didn’t need his accusing stare or outspoken opinions to drive a wedge between them. She climbed in, her head aching dully where she was cut.

  Silence hovered between them as they ate their dinner on the floor of the makeshift quarters. Outside the room, the squawk and chatter of the radios provided some relief from the brittle tension building in their room. She picked absently at the refried beans, wrinkling her nose.

  “You’d better eat,” Matt suggested, setting his plate aside and leaning back against the wall. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling softly.

  Her heart wrenched as she watched his features grow haggard. She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t want this to happen,” she whispered. She took one last look at the food and laid it aside.

  He managed a half-hearted smile meant to convince her that everything would be fine. But her instincts told her differently.

  “It’s not your fault, Babe.” He opened his eyes and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his drawn-up legs. “I’ve been running it over and over in my mind, trying to figure out how the theft could have happened and where it was occurring. Who might be heading up the scam.”

  “Any ideas?” she asked, barely choking out the words.

  He ran his fingers distractedly through his dark hair. “It probably occurred at the depot where supplies are taken off the ships or the cargo planes.”

  “But the bills of lading aren’t typed up until the contents are checked.”

  He gave a shrug. “Who says the foreman at the dock can count right when he’s getting money on the side?”

  “Could they be stopping the truck en route and taking part of the supplies off?” she asked, hope in her voice.

  “That’s a strong possibility,” he agreed.

  “Could it be done here at the base camp?”

  Matt got up, hands behind his back, pacing the length of the room slowly. “It would be much harder to do, and the risk of discovery is high. I have guards posted here and up at the supply depot in the village. Of course, who’s to say the guards can’t be bought? Damn.” He rubbed his jaw absently, halting at the window, staring into nothingness for at least a minute.

  Alanna felt his mounting frustration. “It looks as if the guerrillas are after the drugs for the most part,” she provided.

  He snorted softly. “I would be too if I were running a jungle campaign. Morphine can mean the difference between heaven and hell.”

  She lowered her gaze, responding to the undercurrent of pain in his husky voice. “Did it happen to you once?” she ventured unsurely.

  He said nothing for a long time, his shoulders slumped downward, head bent as if in prayer. Finally, with an effort he said, “More than once.”

  She regarded him intently, trying to understand the anguish behind the spoken words. “This is going to sound stupid,” she began tentatively, “but I sometimes feel that we’re aliens, Matt. I mean,” she groped, “you’ve seen such violence and death that I don’t know how to respond to you. I can’t understand how you can walk around in the world I know as a functioning human being after what you’ve gone through.” She avoided his gaze as he turned, studying her in the light of the sputtering kerosene lamp.

  Alanna tensed inwardly as she heard him move across to her. He crouched down, his gray eyes a curious slate color. “I know what you’re saying, Alanna,” he said, his voice strained. “Sometimes it isn’t easy. I’m lucky to be alive, and I always hold onto that thought no matter how bad the nightmares become.”

  She met his gaze. “Despite your military background you seem to be able to cross over into my world. Why can’t I do the same?”

  He picked up her hand, turned it over and thoughtfully traced the outline of her slender fingers. “You’re idealistic and innocent—that gives you a different perception of life and a unique ability to care.” A sad smile touched his mouth. “Those are two qualities that I find so terribly important. So you see, you have abilities that I don’t.”

  Her hand tingled fiercely as he gently massaged the palm with his thumb. “I can’t believe that you don’t care,” she murmured.

  Reluctantly, he placed her hand back into her lap and rose slowly. “I had to retrain myself to care. You come by it naturally.”

  “Yet you cared about me,” she protested.

  “He smiled tiredly. “That’s because you’re special. Come on, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll devise a plan to track down the missing drugs.”

  She acquiesced without another word, huddling on the sleeping bag with the blankets drawn securely about her shoulders, missing Matt’s warmth and strong, protective body. Sleep came slowly because her mind dwelled on the events of the day. Tomorrow she would have to wire Senator Thornton and tell him that his suspicions about supplies being stolen were correct. She was going to make sure that Matt was not implicated. Not unless solid proof was found to condemn him. Shutting her eyes tightly, Alanna prayed that would never happen.

  * * *

  Alanna stood pondering over each carefully worded sentence of her message to the senator. Could any of it hint that Matt was guilty? Her stomach knotted, and she fought down a rising tide of panic. The paper trembled in her fingers, and she exhaled softly. When had she e
ver had such a problem making a decision? As Paul had said, make it black and white. Simplify. Yet how could she simplify this situation? She knew Thornton would leap at any suggestion of Matt’s guilt like a wolf leaping at the jugular of his enemy’s throat. And what about her unstable, growing relationship with Matt? God, she groaned inwardly, shutting her eyes. Realistically…no, pure logic told her she ought not to be involved with the Marine colonel.

  She opened her eyes, their greenness darkening to jade with pain. The pain of truth: she was falling helplessly in love with Matt Breckenridge, against all her better judgment and reason. Alanna gently laid the message on the stained desk beside the radio operator. And what had Matt always told her? There were times to forget logic and go on gut instinct alone. What did her instincts tell her to do now? Alanna shook her head in despair, pushing the paper in front of the radioman.

  “Can you send this, please?” she asked in a small, barely audible voice.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her stomach tightened nervously as she watched the man send it out over the airwaves. Dread enveloped her, and she took a step away, feeling as if she were a traitor. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, and she swallowed, blindly turning away.

  Strong, warm hands closed around her arms, bringing her to an abrupt halt. Alanna’s eyes flew open.

  “Matt—” she gasped.

  He managed a quick smile. “Ready to hop a chopper to the mountain?” he asked.

  A tumult of unleashed emotions roared through her as she stood within his grip. If he had seen her send the message, there was no hint of chastisement or bitterness in his eyes or the husky tenor of his voice. The knife of guilt sliced across her heart. He doesn’t deserve this! a small voice screamed inside her. Looking up into his drawn features, she saw for the first time the amount of pain and suffering he had managed to hide from the world at large. A tenuous thread of unspoken need flowed between them, and she responded.

  “It’s going to be all right,” she murmured. “I know it is.”

  The smile deepened slightly as he reached out, sliding his fingers down the clean line of her jaw. “Is that logic or instinct talking?”

  Alanna smiled grimly, touching her breast. “I feel it here.”

  He guided her out the door into the pale light of early morning. “It’s just another skirmish,” he returned.

  “And you’re tired of fighting.”

  Matt drew his cap down, shading his dark gray eyes. “Have you ever gotten up in the morning and felt fragile? So damn fragile you’re afraid that if one thing goes wrong during the whole day you’re going to snap in two?”

  Alanna cast a sharp glance over at him, her heart thudding heavily in her breast. She licked her dry lips, slowing as they neared the awaiting chopper. “Yes. Several times when I was breaking up with Paul. Why? Is that how you feel today?”

  Matt opened the sliding door of the chopper, helping her into the cargo area. “I’d like to deny it, but I can’t.” He made sure she was belted into the seat and then moved forward to the copilot’s position.

  A new, desperate longing filled her: to reach out to protect him. How many times had he protected her in the last four days? She studied his grim, stony profile with compassion. She had never realized that perhaps a soldier got tired of fighting, got tired of death and destruction. In some unexplained way, she knew that Matt Breckenridge had reached that point.

  At San Dolega, Alanna followed him silently to the supply depot area. The police commissioner met them, resplendent in his khaki uniform and newly polished brass. She suppressed a desire to giggle over the man’s overbearing manner. Matt, however, patiently stroked the man’s incredible ego as they outlined a plan to discover where the supplies might have been stolen. With Alanna acting as interpreter, Matt’s plan was finally approved after an hour of haggling.

  As they walked back toward the medical dispensary set up inside another tent, Alanna said, “What a pompous bastard!”

  Matt grinned. “What’s this? My dove from the Hill resorting to foul language unbecoming to a lady?”

  She grinned. “I’m sorry. I just don’t see how you could stand there and take his bluster and bluffing. He didn’t know a thing about the job he’s charged with. I’ll bet he never gets out of his air-conditioned office.”

  “Very perceptive on your part. Say, you’re becoming indispensable to me.”

  “I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or an insult,” she returned, matching his smile. Her heart soared as she saw some of the exhaustion and depression lifting from his taut features. His gray eyes lightened, and that familiar spark of laughter reappeared within their depths. For that moment, even the shadow of Senator Thornton dissipated.

  Matt lifted the heavy mosquito netting for her, and they ducked inside the medical facility. “Believe me, that’s a compliment. You’re very good at interpreting.”

  “Except for understanding my own actions,” she put in dryly.

  “You just needed a few things pointed out to you.”

  “I owe you for a lot of those discoveries,” Alanna said, becoming serious.

  Matt took off his cap, stuffing it in his back pocket. A new glitter came to his eyes. “And I intend to collect, believe me,” he promised, the velvet threat sending shivers through her body.

  Chapter Seven

  At noon, Alanna was famished. She tried to forget that, by the time they came down off the mountain that evening, there might be a message from Senator Thornton. The thought sent a chill of fear through her. She ignored that, relishing each new job that Matt showed her during his appointed rounds. There was little more she could do now since all the supplies had been duly entered on the log sheet. And until the police commissioner and his roving teams of men found some evidence, she would have to wait it out just like Matt.

  Finding two empty petrol cans, they made themselves comfortable while they ate. With the blazing sun high overhead, the insects buzzed annoyingly around them. Alanna took another swipe at one, muttering a curse under her breath. She looked up to see Matt grinning.

  “You don’t like jungle living?” he taunted.

  “No! How did you ever stand living over in Vietnam?”

  “It was an adjustment,” he agreed congenially.

  “You probably used up mosquito repellent by the canful.”

  “No. The enemy would smell us coming three miles away if we wore that stuff.”

  She stopped eating. “You simply amaze me, Matt. I had no idea of what kind of things you or any of those men had to go through over there.”

  “Few people do,” he agreed. “But don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault. It didn’t make interesting news or good material for the ratings war carried on by the evening news programs.”

  “I never realized the extent of a serviceman’s commitment, that’s all,” she answered lamely. “I feel more than a little guilty over giving you such a tough time about the military when we first met.”

  “The last few days have softened your view?”

  She nodded, a note of awe in her tone. “More than just a little. Paul used to put down the military, and I guess I allowed his attitude to rub off on me. All my friends went to college and avoided the draft. And when I started to work for Senator Thornton, I really got brainwashed on militarism.”

  He set the plate down at his feet. “You should never feel ashamed of being ignorant about something, Alanna. Unfortunately, that’s the way we all learn, blundering into new areas, stumbling, maybe falling.” He offered her a smile of encouragement. “I figured if I gave you half a chance, you might change your mind about us.”

  “You looked like you were ready to murder me that first day,” she confided.

  “It was a damn good thing you were a woman. Two hours earlier I had had a confrontation with a group of television reporters who bumped some medical personnel off another C-130. When Haskell didn’t show, it was the perfect end to a very bad day.”

  She grinned. “Then
I’m glad I am a woman. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. You scared the hell out of me.”

  Matt laughed. “You’ve seen me at my worst. Now we have no place to go but up.”

  Caution replaced her ebullient mood. “Maybe…” she whispered. She saw his eyes widen with a brief startled expression. “Matt…this investigation, I have to finish it. I worry what the senator will do with the message I had to send this morning. I don’t even want to go into the radio shack to find out.” She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled by the prospect.

  “Alanna.” His tone was steadying. “You do the job you were assigned. Report the facts and stand your ground. He may try to railroad you with his political razzle-dazzle. I know Thornton too well. He’s known on the Hill to blow things out of proportion on just a few thin threads of circumstantial evidence. You know he’ll do the same no matter how you worded that message. I worry more about you in this situation than I do about myself.”

  Her brows drew down in puzzlement. “Why? I mean, aren’t you afraid of what he might do to your career?”

  Matt rested his arms against his thighs, watching several workmen begin to haul away rubble from a destroyed hut. “He’s tried this twice before, Alanna, and I know his strategy and tactics by heart.” He turned, looking down into her upturned face. “I worry because you’ve never seen him in action before. He can twist things, Babe, and perhaps make you believe them. You’re at a vulnerable stage in your life, and he might try to manipulate you in these circumstances.”

  “That’s impossible! I’d never do anything underhanded, Matt!” Her nostrils flared with indignation at his accusations.