She brushed off the old man’s question with a smile. She didn’t want to think about her imprisonment in Monte Carlo or the fact that she’d fallen in love with the hero who rescued her, and that now she must draw Diego back into danger so they could crack the gang. “Has there been much trouble while I’ve been away?” she asked instead, hoping to learn something new.
“Apart from all the villages from here to the border being left in ruins by the rebels, do you mean?”
She gave the old man a sympathetic look that prompted him to continue.
“There’s talk of human trafficking. Slavers in the area,” he said with a worried glance in Celina’s direction. “You’ll need to take care. They’re taking advantage of the lawless situation to ply their vicious trade.”
She made a sound of concern as if this was all new to her. “Any village in particular?”
He named two. One was where she’d taught school, and the other was even more remote, but just a few miles away. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.
“If I were young like you, I’d head straight back to the border and get out of here fast.”
She said nothing. She had no intention of leaving until the job was done.
The old man shrugged, and they didn’t speak again until he dropped her off within walking distance of the village where she’d taught school. “I can’t take you any closer,” he said, drawing his ancient vehicle to a grinding halt. “It’s too dangerous.”
She pressed the last of her money on him and climbed out. The slavers would take everything anyway. Her stomach clenched as he drove away. She’d never felt so alone, or uncertain. There was no guarantee that Diego would speak to Amber, or that the team would follow her here. She had to rely on the fact that Diego was a renowned tracker and as keen on tech as she was.
The silence was smothering when she reached the outskirts of the village. Even the birds were silent as she began the long walk down the main street. The walls of the buildings were pockmarked with gunfire. Windows were smashed on the house where she’d rented a room. The front door was hanging off its hinges. But there was smoke coming from the doctor’s house.
Signs of life like the smoke should have cheered her, but instead it sent shivers down her spine, because other things were wrong. The flowerbeds that used to provide a cheery welcome for patients were trampled, and all the plants were dead. And then a door opened and a voice called out, “I know that face.”
