Page 27

“They sent three men after us. I took care of them. Others stayed with the vehicles. I don’t know how many but at least one.” Enough to report their location to others. Enough to concentrate the search.

“ Took care of them ?” Her brow furrowed.

“Killed two. Injured the third, but I doubt his colleagues will get him medical attention. ”

Her eyes widened. He braced himself for disgust but instead got sympathy.

“I’m sorry you had to do that.” She pressed her lips together, clearly fighting emotion. “What do they want, do you know?”

“Me.”

“You? You’re sure?” She sagged with relief.

He nodded. “Me. I apologize for dragging you into something this dangerous.”

“I flung myself into it when I walked into Bjorn Anders’ office and found him murdered.”

He squeezed her hand again then forced himself to let go.

He needed to keep his hands free for his weapons.

“I’m glad you stopped me getting on that flight, but I’m not happy about the fact you’re stuck with me now.

I don’t think they’ve linked you to Anders’ death, so don’t mention it if they or anyone else asks, understood? You never saw the guy.”

“What guy?”

“Exactly.”

She grinned at him, looking so damned beautiful…

“You’d be a lot better off without me.”

“You are the only person keeping me alive right now.”

He turned away. She needed to get the hell away from him. But they were in the middle of Africa with bad guys on their trail. And, if the bad guys had identified her, she’d be in as much danger now as he was.

Dammit.

He moved quickly, wanting to get away from the area before reinforcements arrived.

“I lost my bag in the river. Along with the photograph of Bjorn and Dougie Cavanagh.”

Guilt hit him hard. He knew he should tell her it wasn’t lost, that he’d mailed it, but he also knew it made more sense not to. The only real secrets were the ones only one person knew. “Do you have copies? ”

She blew out a huffed sigh. “No. But maybe I have similar back home. Of Dougie at least.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I found some negatives with my mom’s things in Granny’s attic, including an undeveloped roll in her camera. Seems as if she took lots of photos during her time in Africa.”

He stopped. Her mother might have been the photographer of that group of four. She might have more photographs pertinent to their investigation.

“I asked a friend who teaches art and photography at a local secondary school to develop all the old negatives. I don’t know what happened to the actual photos, but I couldn’t find them. I’m paying for the chemical supplies and photographic paper. John enjoys that kind of thing.”

“John.”

She shot him a glance. “Yes, John. He’s been a friend of mine since elementary school.”

“Sure he has.” He couldn’t deny the whip of jealousy that curled through him. “I’d like to get copies of those negatives and photos if possible. We’ll pay for any supplies.”

She frowned again. “Why?”

“I’m not sure. A feeling I have. It might be nothing but…”

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. “If my mom was taking photos in Africa around the same time as those other pictures were taken, they might hold clues.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of insight into what the hell is going on right now, let alone all those years ago.”

Was this why Rowena’s mom was dead?

Her breathing grew hoarse from exertion, but he didn’t slow down. Not yet.

“Kurt.” Her tone was pensive. “Who exactly are you looking for in Zimbabwe?”

He shot her an innocent look. “What d’you mean?”

Her eyes narrowed in irritation. “Don’t treat me like a fool. I get that you have a job to do and secrets to keep, but do not treat me like an idiot.”

He rolled his shoulders and felt like a dick. “It’s mission sensitive.”

“I’m not asking for Top Secret information. Just anything you can tell me as to why you were talking to Bjorn Anders in Vic Falls and Harare. You want my help with my mother’s photos, which I’m willing to give without reservation.” She swallowed. “I just, would like to know anything I’m allowed.”

He inhaled, the cold air catching in his lungs. “Officially, I’m not allowed to say a single word about what is a Joint Task Force operation.” He scratched his ear. His arm was sore now, and he was worried about the risk of infection. The river water and dirt weren’t exactly sterile.

But this situation was more important. What the hell. He trusted her.

Not because they’d had sex. Right now, they needed one another. “I’m going to tell you anyway.”

Her pupils dilated in surprise.

“I’m searching for a terrorist who was last reportedly seen in the DRC.

I tapped Bjorn as an old friend who’s been in Africa for the past thirty years and who always had his ear to the ground.

I think Bjorn knew a lot more than he admitted.

” How were Bjorn’s wife and kids coping after the murder, he wondered.

“The FBI is searching for a fuckwad named Darmawan Hurek. Number one on the FBI’s Most Wanted Fugitive list.”

She slipped, and he caught her, held her upright.

“You think my mom might have known a terrorist ?”

“He wasn’t a terrorist back then. He was a guy dicking around Africa after he finished college, presumably searching for his way in life. Unfortunately, his way turned out to be hurting others to get what he wanted. He went to St. Andrews.”

“Like Dougie Cavanagh.” Her eyes widened. “You think Dougie and Hurek were friends at uni? ”

She sounded so disappointed he almost smiled. Instead, he gave her a curt nod. “That photo you found in Bjorn’s office showed Cavanagh, Hurek, Gilder, and a man who looks awfully like a young Leo Spartan, the current Zimbabwean ambassador to the UN.”

Her complexion went sheet white. “Gilder went to St. Andrews too.”

“Did he now?” Interesting. He narrowed his gaze at her. “You seem to know a lot about him.”

“I like to research people I vehemently don’t like in case I’m doing them a disservice.”

That made him smile.

“He spent four years studying computer science but only came away with a general degree, which doesn’t exactly scream genius.

” Her tone was derisive. “No one knows where all his money came from, but his parents died when he was about the age I am now. He’s an only child and inherited close to ten million pounds.

I felt sorry for him when I found that out—not about the inheritance, but the fact he doesn’t have any relatives left. ”

Kurt wished he could take away some of the obvious pain she felt at being alone in the world.

“Then I found several photos of him online posing with big game animals he’d shot and killed, and that destroyed any sympathy I might have felt.

” Her disgust was obvious. “Those photos were subsequently scrubbed from the internet probably when he started getting involved in politics, but”—she tapped her nose—“librarians like to keep records of things.”

He fucking loved librarians.

“He apparently began investing in the startup tech sector. Gained a reputation for being some kind of wonder-bro with a nose for the next big thing without ever inventing anything himself.”

She pulled back on his grip hard enough to stop them both as she caught her breath for a few seconds.

“He developed blood cancer when he was thirty, which also made me feel a bit sorry for him, again until I read his opinion about women in the tech sector.” She raised one brow.

“He fully recovered—that type always do—but the rumor is he can no longer father children. I don’t think they were that into freezing sperm back then or they messed up something?

” She snorted derisively. “What am I saying? He probably has gallons of the stuff in his minus eighty freezers in some underground bunker in Idaho.”

“There’s a thought.” Kurt tugged her onwards. He wanted off this steep slope and into the forest on the other side.

“Apparently, he’s obsessed with slowing down the biological aging process and has turned into a bit of a health nut.”

Cancer could do that to a person, he supposed.

Kurt and his fellow Hostage Rescue Team operators could be considered fitness freaks, but none of them expected to live forever.

“Did Bjorn tell you anything useful about Hurek?” she asked.

“I pushed him hard at the Jam Café, mentioned the hundred-thousand-dollar reward and how the US government could be both grateful and displeased when it came to awarding contracts.” He’d pressured him, and now Bjorn was dead.

“Eventually, he gave me Dougie’s name. He wouldn’t confirm that Dougie and Hurek were friends but claimed to have heard rumors they’d known each other back in the day. ”

“Why give you any name if Bjorn was also involved with Hurek? He must know it risked exposing himself?”

Kurt shook his head. “Not really. Either Bjorn knew it was a dead end or, if he was also involved, maybe he told Spartan or Gilder I was poking around asking questions about Hurek and his cohort in Africa back in the day. Maybe he foolishly decided to use that photograph to blackmail them. Or maybe the fact I was in the country asking questions was enough for the bad guys—whoever they may be—to get rid of any potential loose ends including me and Bjorn.”

“Why hide the photo?” She shivered.

“I don’t know, but I do know we need to get you out of those wet clothes. ”

She banded her arm across her body as her teeth chattered. It was almost fully light now. “I’m fine. I don’t have anything to change into anyway.”

He tapped his bag.

She frowned. “You have clothes for me in there?”

He nodded.

“Won’t they be soaked?”

He shook his head. “Waterproof backpack. They might be a bit damp if it leaked, but overall, they should be dryer than what you’re wearing.”

“Thank you.” Her shoulders started to shake. “You think my mother was somehow involved in all this, don’t you?” Those soft green eyes met his. “You think her death might not have been an accident.”

“How’d she die?”