Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
H awk followed her and the boy as they crept through the dense vegetation away from the clinic. Nobody would spot them in the darkness. Behind them, they could hear the shouts and cheers of the rebels as they trashed the clinic.
From what he’d been able to make out, there were five of them, all kitted out with what looked like Russian-made AK-47s. From his time in the SEALs, he knew that typically the weapons would be second-hand and poorly maintained. That gave him the advantage. On top of it, the rebels were untrained soldiers, which meant they were unpredictable, but also prone to missing their target.
It was hard to be quiet in the jungle, and three people fighting their way through made an inevitable rustle. Through the trees, backlit by the light in the clearing, Hawk spotted one of the rebels turn their way.
His breath hitched.
Fuck.
He dropped to one knee, settling the rifle against his shoulder as he scanned the tree line.
Lexi cradled Moyo against her chest. “Why are we stopping?”
“They know we’re here.”
The child whimpered, his small arms clutching her neck as she stumbled backward. “Oh, God. What are we going to do?”
“You’re going to run. Go!” His tone didn’t leave room for argument.
Lexi turned and ran, taking Moyo with her.
The rebel shouted and two others emerged from the clinic and came to join him in the clearing. They wore bandanas wrapped around their faces and in addition to the rifles in their hands, they had large pangas hanging from their belts. The rebel pointed toward the brush, shouting and gesturing.
Hawk waited, controlling his breathing, his finger poised over the trigger.
Then a shot rang out. They didn’t know his exact location, it was too dark amongst the foliage, so they were taking potshots in this direction. He hit the dirt as a bullet flew over his head and embedded in a tree behind him.
Shit, that was close.
He lay on his stomach and took aim. The rebels approached, cautiously at first, then speeding up as they grew in confidence. He had the benefit of the well-lit clearing behind them that silhouetted their forms. When they reached the treeline, he pulled the trigger and the first man went down, screaming and clutching his shoulder. It wasn’t a fatal shot, but it would render his shooting arm useless.
The others unleashed a hail of bullets into the undergrowth, but as he’d expected, they went high. Problem was, it drew the attention of the other two rebels inside the clinic. They came charging out, guns raised. He half expected to see more emerge from the jungle, but none did. Perhaps this was just one band on a rampage.
Hawk stayed down, poised for another shot. As they raced forward, he unleashed a shitstorm of his own, spraying up dust in front of them. He could have killed them outright, but he didn’t need the complication.
They skidded to a halt, then scrambled backwards. He was the unseen enemy, and there was nothing more fearsome than that. They scrambled for cover, hiding behind the golf cart.
He was waiting for them to emerge, when he heard a familiar sound. Low at first, almost imperceptible against the hum of the jungle, but growing steadily louder—a rhythmic whump-whump-whump that sent a rush of relief through him.
A helicopter.
The rebels heard it too. Their movements faltered, their heads snapping toward the sound. One of them barked an order, his voice tinged with urgency. They broke cover, disappearing into the thick underbrush, shadows dissolving into the jungle, leaving their three wounded colleagues bleeding in the clearing.
For a few tense moments, Hawk stayed rooted in place, his rifle tracking the bushes, ready for one of them to make a last-ditch attempt. His breathing was steady, his mind clear, but his muscles were taut, every nerve on edge.
The whump-whump-whump grew deafening now as the helicopter came into land. Hawk emerged from the jungle and trained his weapon on the three injured rebels. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, as one eyed out his rifle.
Hawk kicked the discarded weapons to safety as the chopper lowered itself into the clearing. The rebels wouldn’t be going anywhere in their condition. The one with the shoulder wound was unconscious now, the two others writing in agony, one clutching his leg, the other his arm. With proper treatment, they’d survive to fight another day.
Once the helicopter had landed, he pivoted and scanned the undergrowth for Lexi and Moyo.
“Lexi,” he yelled. “You can come out now.”
Then he spotted her. A white face peering from behind the brushes several yards away.
“They’re gone,” he called. “It’s safe.”
She stepped out, her arms still wrapped tightly around Moyo. Hawk wanted nothing more than to go to her, take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, but the sound of boots hitting the ground pulled his attention back to the clearing.
A team of UN peacekeepers jumped out, their weapons raised, their movements efficient and coordinated. The sight brought back a flood of memories—missions, deployments, nights just like this one in some godforsaken place. It felt like a lifetime ago.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder and raised his hands in a gesture of calm as the nearest officer approached. “I’m American,” he said. “I’ve got three wounded rebels and a bunch of unarmed civilians here. The remaining fighters fled into the jungle when they heard you coming.”
The officer nodded sharply, signaling to his team to fan out and secure the area.
Hawk turned back to where Lexi stood, still clutching Moyo. Her hands were trembling, her breaths shallow, and her eyes were huge and haunted.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, her eyes locked on his. Amongst the fear, he saw concern. She’d been worried about him. “Are you?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. A mix of affection and adrenaline coursed through his veins. Damned if that didn’t feel good.
He exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“You shot them?” She nodded to the three injured rebels on the ground. The UN peacekeepers were inspecting their wounds, before giving them some basic treatment and loading them into the helicopter.
“Yeah.” He didn’t excuse it. They’d been gunning for them. If he hadn’t, they sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here now.
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Hawk could tell she was about to break. Fuck propriety. Some things were more important. He opened his arms, and taking Moyo with her, she collapsed into them.
“You’re not just an engineer, are you?” Lexi said quietly, once they’d made sure everyone was safe. They were sitting on the front steps of the clinic, drinking coffee from tin mugs under the dim porch light, trying to recover after the drama of the last few hours.
Moyo had gone back to Patrick’s house with his wife and family, while the infant gorillas were safely back in their enclosure behind the clinic, no worse for wear.
Hawk didn’t answer right away. He stared out into the darkness, that chiseled jaw tight with tension.
“Come on,” she pressed, leaning slightly toward him. “I saw you out there—with the rebels, with that rifle. You knew exactly what to do.”
He exhaled slowly, his fingers relaxing around the handle of his mug. “It’s a long story.”
She shrugged, trying not to think of the way he’d held her and Moyo earlier. His big arms had enveloped her, held her close, with one hand clasped to the back of her neck. She’d heard his heart beating against her ear, steady and rhythmic. Not racing like hers, or terrified like Moyo’s. He’d been in control of his emotions the entire time. “We’ve got time.”
Hawk gave a low, humorless chuckle. “Alright. If you must know, I used to be in the Navy. It was a long time ago, I was a different person back then.”
She nodded. “I guessed it was something like that.”
He lowered his voice. “It’s not something I broadcast. I was only in for five years before I realized that if I really wanted to make a difference, there were more effective ways to do it.”
She frowned, studying his profile, sharp in the lamplight. “Make a difference?”
He nodded, his gaze distant as he stared into the past. “Yeah. Instead of kicking down doors and blowing shit up, I wanted to be the one calling the shots. Building something instead of tearing it apart.”
Kicking down doors. Blowing shit up.
Lexi gnawed thoughtfully on her lip. “What part of the Navy were you in?”
He skirted the answer. “It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, I needed a career change and chose this route.”
“Engineering?”
He shifted slightly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It was my specialty in the Navy,” he admitted. “When I got out, it made sense to formalize it, get a qualification, and use it to build something that could actually help people. Roads, dams, clean water systems.” His voice softened. “I wanted to give people the kind of stability I was sent to protect.”
“Like this one?” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “Although, this one is proving challenging.”
She chuckled. “You don’t strike me as a man who gives up easily.”
His gaze sliced through her. Midnight blue slits of determination that made her heart skip a beat. “I don’t.”
Were they still talking about the sanctuary?
She imagined he’d be quite formidable in the boardroom. Or the bedroom. Shit, where had that thought come from? Blushing, she said, “So the purchase of the mine…?”
“Provides employment for the locals and hopefully provides some stability to the surrounding area. I have a Navy buddy who runs a team of security experts trained for these exact situations. Once we purchase the mine, I’ll bring them in and hopefully restore some order of peace around here.”
“That would be amazing,” she whispered. “If only it was possible.”
“You don’t think we can do it?” he asked, turning to face her.
She sighed. “The situation is more complex out here than you think.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said darkly. “All I want is a chance to make a difference to people’s lives.”
Lexi gave a faint grin. “And here I thought you were just a ruthless businessman on a mission to expanding your empire.”
Hawk smirked, his gaze sliding to hers. “I am that too, but not for the reasons you think.”
Damn.
The way he was looking at her now—direct, unflinching, like he could see right through her—sent a rush of heat flooding through her veins.
“Seems I misjudged you.” She looked away, flustered.
The corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re not off the hook yet. What are you really doing out here?”
She hesitated, the flush of warmth in her chest replaced by the cold weight of his question. “Same as you,” she said lightly, deflecting. “Trying to make a difference.”
His eyes narrowed like he didn’t quite believe her. “Yeah, but you never told me what you were running from.”
She stiffened, gripping her mug tighter. “I’m not running,” she muttered.
“Come on.” He leaned back, his tone casual, his gaze unrelenting. “I looked you up, Alexandra Prescott.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.
“Why not? It’s your name, isn’t it?” He watched her, his expression unreadable.
“Anything but that.”
His eyes glimmered. “Your dad’s Senator Charles Prescott, isn’t he? Why not tell me?”
“Because it doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, her voice tight. “Out here, nobody knows what a senator is—or cares. And I don’t want anyone making assumptions about me because of him.”
“Like assuming you’re a spoiled rich girl?” he asked bluntly, though his tone lacked judgment.
“Exactly,” she bit out.
“Even though,” he continued, his voice softening, “that kind of power and influence could give you a bigger platform to do good?”
“What this place needs isn’t power,” she shot back, her frustration bubbling over. “It’s compassion. People who care more about helping than about control.” She gestured to the clearing, her voice cracking. “Power is what brings war, Hawk. It’s what caused all this.”
For a moment, he was silent, his gaze dropping to the mug in his hands. Then he nodded slowly. “Touche,” he muttered. “I guess we’re coming at this from two different angles. I’m trying to use my power for good, and you’re trying to leave yours behind. But we’re both after the same thing.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, his admission softening the tension between them. “Maybe,” she murmured.
He tilted his head, studying her. “So… leaving your fiancé at the altar. Was that part of leaving it all behind?”
She stared at him, stunned. “How do you?—”
“It was in the papers,” he said simply, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Soon as I Googled your name, there it was.”
“Crap,” she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples.
He laughed softly. “You sure know how to make an impact, I’ll give you that much.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, scowling. “I told Charles the night before I wasn’t going through with it. He just didn’t believe me.”
“So you left,” Hawk said, his voice quieter now.
She nodded, her throat tightening. “I packed a bag, snuck out, and never looked back.”
“That can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t.”
He shook his head. “What did your family have to say? Your fiancée?”
“The fallout was intense,” she admitted. “My parents were frantic. My bridesmaids were panicking. Charles was already at the church. Eventually, they had to tell him I wasn’t coming.”
“How’d you know all this?” he asked.
“My mother writes to me. She never missed an opportunity to tell me what a disgrace I am, and how I embarrassed the entire family.”
Hawk gave a low whistle. “I can see why you don’t want to go home.”
“It’s not just that, I love it out here. The climate, the jungle, the people. It’s all so different, so exotic, and even though it probably won’t last, I want to make the most of every moment.”
“What do you mean it won’t last?” He tilted his head.
“It can’t. Even though Robert means well, there’ll be limits to what he can do. To what you can do. Eventually, I’ll have to leave, but hopefully, I’ll have helped along the way.”
“You’re helping already,” he said. “Those little infants wouldn’t have survived without you.”
She smiled. “I know. It feels good. I’d rather be doing this than attending a charity ball or raising money for something I’ll never see, or someplace I’ll never go. This way, when I go back, I’ll know that what I’m raising money for will be worthwhile.”
“It seems I’ve misjudged you too.” Hawk fixed his gaze on her face.
She arched an eyebrow. “Seems we’re even, then.”