“You approach every mission thinking that way. That others may live. Right?”
He sat up straighter. “You’re afraid I’m going to check out on you.”
“Is it so wrong to worry you could be killed, living life with that kind of reckless approach?”
“I just didn’t expect that from you.” He searched her eyes, his forehead furrowed. “I thought you would understand. You signed on for the same thing. Who did you expect to fall for when you hang out with guys like me all the time?”
His words stung, making her sound foolish when she wasn’t. She’d just had a plan and he arrived too early. “You make it sound so analytical.”
“You’re the one who’s logical,” he reminded her gently.
She sagged back with a sigh. “Apparently not about falling in love.”
“You love me?”
He studied her warily, making her all too aware of the pain they’d both felt over their breakup.
“I did.”
His hand rested on top of hers gently, but his jaw was hard and set. “I still do.”
Oh God, he was breaking her heart here. “That’s not fair.” She squeezed his fingers. “Especially not now with what we’re about to face.”
“Nothing between us has been fair.” He pulled his hand free, crossed his arms over his chest, and went back to sleep.
Four breaths later, his chest rose and fell evenly, his body lanky and relaxed as if they hadn’t just torn each other’s hearts out again, damn it. She ached to wrap her arms around the comfort of that goofy looking dog, but surprisingly Bubbles was scratching the mutt’s muzzle through the mesh grating.
She needed to find peace, resolution, and she needed to find it fast. They would be landing shortly, then go through another debrief with Smith and his intel comrades. Even now, intelligence organizations were following up, gathering data through satellites and drones and human assets on the ground. Those tasked with detail tomorrow would be forced to sleep tonight, to block out the world and recharge their bodies for whatever waited for them when the vice president’s wife landed to greet a welcoming crowd of at least a couple hundred. Thousands more gathered outside the airport’s secured perimeter.
She was about to launch into the most important mission of her life, one that could send the world into tumult, and still she couldn’t help but think about the image of Jose’s face when he’d told her he still loved her.
Everything here in Africa had been so intense between them. They’d only had five months together, a month apart. And in less than twenty-four hours, it could all be over. She could actually lose him in a way far more final than any breakup.
Faced with what waited for them tomorrow, she couldn’t imagine confronting it with the weight of regrets bearing down on her heart, on her soul. They only had this one last night in lodgings in Mogadishu to themselves before their part of the operation. She couldn’t find a single good reason not to spend that night with Jose.
***
Ajaya wondered how much longer they would keep him here at this base. The man who’d questioned him yesterday had left, but one of his friends remained. How often would they make him come back to this room for questions?
At least they let him sleep in a bed in a room by himself. The space had been cool and dark, the shower warm, and the loose clothes soft. But sleep? That had been tough to find, especially after the attack outside the gates. If the people who’d kidnapped him from the school took him back, after he’d been here…?
He would die. Painfully.
His only chance at living was to play this through until he could escape on his own. Because not for a minute did he trust this man in a suit that looked just like the other man who’d questioned him yesterday. The one they’d called Smith had cleared out fast for some reason. This person today, he went by Mr. Jones and wore a cowboy hat like that was supposed to make him look friendlier. His skin was also dark, but not as dark as Ajaya’s. But he wondered if they thought he would be more likely to open up because of something as meaningless as similar skin color.
He just wanted to go someplace safe and start a new life.
Mr. Jones sat in the seat across from him, elbows on his knees. “We know you aren’t telling us everything, and hey, I can understand why you didn’t want to talk before. Mr. Smith is a scary dude. Working for him…” He shook his head, swiping off his cowboy hat and hooking it on his knee. “It’s no picnic, let me tell you. I’m glad to have some breathing space now that he’s gone.”
As if he was stupid enough to buy this man’s nice guy act? Ajaya cocked his head to the side, pretending to be the stupid kid they seemed to assume he was. “Picnic? I am hungry.”
“Of course. We’re happy to bring you anything you want.” He waved to an airman in camouflage behind him, a guy not much older than Ajaya. “How about a hamburger? An American hamburger, made right here by our own cooks.”
“Food would be nice,” Ajaya said, wondering if they would drug him like the pirates who’d taken him had, at first, until they had him so far away from the school he could not run anyway.
Jones smiled, showing off his perfect white teeth, no signs of hunger or worse. “And another soda? Although the fella over there calls it ‘pop,’ and Mr. Smith calls it ‘Coke.’ All depends on where you’re from. We have little quirks about the way we speak English. It is easy to make a mistake. Maybe you misspoke about something you told us.” Mr. Jones tapped him lightly with his outback hat. “But you could correct that mistake now.”
Yes, he spoke English very well, and he was not a gullible boy anymore. Gullible—a fancy word he had learned in school. Gullible—what he had been when a teacher introduced him to two men promising money and a job. “You think I am lying? I went to an orphanage school, with very good teachers who taught me how to speak your English. You can find out.”