“I see fifteen of ‘em,” Jackson said, lowering the binoculars. “Those odds aren’t great.”
Mitchell grinned. He knew Jackson was worth a dozen men in a fight, but tonight they needed to be quiet. Rushing in with guns blazing would not help their cause. “No, those odds aren’t spectacular. Fifteen or more well-armed mercs against two poorly armed former Rangers? I pity them.”
Jackson turned to his friend and spoke. “Seriously, Ryan, what do you want to do?”
Mitchell thought about it for a minute and then grinned at Jackson. “Well, we didn’t come this far not to look around. I want you to stay here and cover me. If I’m not back in an hour, make your way back to Fahimah and then link up with Sam and Cardinal.”
“No way, I’m coming with you,” protested Jackson.
Mitchell looked into his friend’s eyes. He knew Jackson would move heaven and earth for him; his loyalty and friendship were never in doubt. “Nate, two of us snooping around out there are more likely to be discovered a hell of a lot quicker than one. I need you to cover my back and come up with something to get us out of here, should things turn ugly.”
Jackson knew Mitchell was right, but did not want to admit it. “Ok, you win this one, but you had best get your butt back here in an hour, or you’ll have to answer to Master-Sergeant Jackson. You got it,” said Jackson as he shook Mitchell’s hand.
Crawling backwards like a thief in the night, Mitchell vanished into the shadows.
Mrs. March lay in Jen’s arms, fast asleep. The toll of the past few days had caught up with her. Jen sat, rocking back and forth while her mother slept. Looking up, Jen felt a horrible chill crawl down her spine the instant she saw Nika and a tall man walking towards Dmitry Romanov. Staring at the man, Jen fought to stifle a scream. Fear instantly knotted her stomach. He was the same butcher who had killed Professor Laurel in cold blood and tried to kidnap her in Charlotte. She looked around for a place to run, to hide, but she couldn’t move. Jen knew she could never leave her mother alone with these monsters.
Nika Romanov was dressed in a form-fitting tan one-piece outfit. She chatted in hushed tones with her father for a moment. Seeing Jen, she left her father’s side and, with a menacing smile on her face, strolled over to where Jen was cradling her mother in her arms. Nika looked down at Mrs. March; her face was devoid of any emotion.
Jen’s skin crawled just looking at the woman; she thought the woman had the cruelest eyes that she had ever seen.
“She looks exhausted,” said Nika. “Let’s put her down on a cot in my father’s tent.”
“It’s ok; if you don’t mind, I’ll hold onto her for now,” replied Jen.
“I wasn’t asking,” Nika said threateningly.
Jen reluctantly nodded and allowed one of Chang’s men to pick her mother up in his arms. Mrs. March was carried over to an adjoining tent and then delicately put down on a green army cot. Jen carefully covered her with a warm woolen blanket.
Nika waited until Jen was finished and then stepped forward until she was mere inches away from Jen’s face. “I think my father puts too much faith in you,” said Nika, her loathsome eyes boring into Jen’s.
Jen wanted nothing more than to smash her fist into the revolting woman’s face. Keeping her head proudly held high, Jen stood her ground and pushed back. “I suspect your father has more faith in me than he does in you or your sister.”
A flicker of anger rippled across Nika’s face. “Your time will come soon enough, and I’ll see to you personally,” snarled Nika, before turning on her heels and storming out of the tent.
Stepping over to the entrance of the tent, Jen looked into the cool night and then ran her hand through her hair, letting out a deep breath. She wondered if the night could get any worse.
Mitchell moved carefully until he was about one hundred meters away from the dig site. Throwing his AK over his shoulder, Mitchell stood up and sauntered forward, deciding that it would be best if he tried to hide in plain sight. If he kept out of the light, Mitchell thought he might be mistaken for one of the guards. Making his way towards a couple of jeeps parked just outside of the searchlight’s glare, Mitchell quickly checked the vehicles and was relieved to see that they both had keys in their ignitions. A sigh of relief escaped his lips; so far, fortune was still smiling on him. Looking about, Mitchell was about to go and check out a couple of tents in a nearby depression when he suddenly froze in his tracks. Standing there, barely fifty meters away illuminated in the entrance to a tent, was Jen. His heart raced as a smile crept across his face at seeing Jen alive and unhurt. Mitchell knew he had to get closer. Rummaging through the back of the jeeps, Mitchell found a discarded keffiyah. Grabbing it, Mitchell wrapped it freely around his head to mask his face as best he could. With his AK held loosely by his side, Mitchell walked towards Jen.
The night air was starting to get cold. Jen felt a shiver crawl down her back. She wrapped her arms around her chest to keep herself warm. She took one more look into the near pitch-black night, seeing nothing but the dark empty expanse of the desert. She was about to step back inside the tent to warm up when she saw one of Romanov’s hired goons suddenly appear out of the dark. Jen thought it was odd, but it looked like the man was walking straight towards her. The hair on the back of her neck went up; something was not right. Jen was about to take a step back, when the man suddenly lunged at her. In a flash, a hand was thrown over her mouth and another around her waist. Jen, her heart pounding in fear, fought desperately to break free. She struggled for all she was worth, but found herself dragged into the dark. Jen felt herself pulled down onto the hard, rocky ground. A thought flashed through her mind. Was this what Nika had meant when she left? Was she going to be raped and killed now that she was not of any use to the Romanovs anymore? If she was going to die, she was not going to allow her attacker to get away unscathed. Turning her head, Jen lashed out and dug her teeth deep into the man’s hand; a second later, she tasted the warm coppery taste of blood in her mouth.
“Goddamn it Jen, that hurts,” said her attacker in English.
Pulling down his scarf, Mitchell looked into Jen’s deep brown eyes. He had never been so happy or relieved in his life to see someone alive. Mitchell raised a finger to his lips, telling Jen to be quiet.
Jen’s eyes lit up; she couldn’t believe it. Letting go of her pent-up emotions, Jen threw her arms around Mitchell’s neck and pulled him in tight.
“Easy does it, Jen,” said Mitchell quietly, trying to pull Jen away from his neck. “You’ll choke me if you keep it up.”
Jen let go and looked into Mitchell’s blue-gray eyes. “How on earth did you find me?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“It’s a long story, but we have to get moving before we lose the cover of night,” Mitchell said as he went to stand.
Jen hesitated.
“What is it?” asked Mitchell, helping Jen stand up.
“I can’t go without my mother,” said Jen, worriedly looking back towards her tent.
Mitchell swore. “She’s here with you?”
“Yes, she’s fast asleep in that tent,” Jen replied, looking back towards the tent.
“Can she run?” asked Mitchell.
Jen shook her head. “She’s exhausted and wouldn’t make it ten feet before we were both shot by the guards.”
Mitchell bit his lip in anger. He could not believe that he had come all this way only to have to turn back without Jen.
“Ryan, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave without me,” said Jen.
“I can’t leave you here, not after finding you,” said Mitchell, tightly holding onto Jen’s hands.
“Ryan, I trust you with my life. You’ll just have to find me again,” said Jen, with tears welling up in her eyes. “A man called Dmitry Romanov is financing this dig. He has an oil refinery just to the west of here. I have no doubt that Mother and I will be there by tomorrow evening once he finds what he’s looking for out here.”