She had gone through so many different emotions in the last hour, she didn’t know what to say to that. His footing was sure, as if he were used to walking in unknown dark places. She was supposed to be leading, but he seemed to know where he was going at the moment. So she just let him pull her along, deeper into the shadows.
9
Amber was surprised at how well she andHawk worked together. He was a natural tracker, moving through the darkness like a thief, able to slip in and out of the shadows like a ghost. No wonder she hadn’t seen him when he was in her office the other night.
Hawk McMillan was more than an operative. She could tell. She had worked with different CIA-trained operatives before. A mediocre one would be noisy, hesitant in the strange darkness. A good one would still betray certain unease by pausing here and there. Hawk just followed her, his attention focused on the pathways she chose, and at certain points he would touch and explore a wall here or a landmark there, as if familiarizing himself with their texture. It was fascinating watching him at work, as he morphed from the man with the mocking voice, playing those games with her, into a very serious operative.
He asked a few questions—very good ones, in her book. Amber did her best to try to fill him in about the height and thickness of certain walls, the thickness of the ropes she used to scale them, the names ofkafenasnearby, the cubby-holes that she might use to hide anything of value. The last question alone told her he wasn’t an ordinary operative in need of a guide. The man had either stolen things before or had done a lot of tracking in places where he needed to hide things.
The most important thing was that he was keeping her mind busy, distracting her from thinking aboutit.He was remote, almost authoritative in his questions, as if he, too, had things on his mind. For once, she didn’t object to the high-handed attitude.
“Tired?”
Amber shook her head. She felt blessedly numb. She wasn’t tired at all, even though they had spent the better part of three hours tracking around the back alleys of Velesta. She had the routes memorized, since she used them often to move the escaped girls to her own hiding places, among other things. When Hawk had asked how she became so familiar with these paths, she had hedged on the truth, telling him that she met shady characters to negotiate all the time. He seemed to accept the answer.
“We’re done for the night,” Hawk continued. “I’ll take you home now.”
“This is my city, you know. I can get back by myself.”
“I know that, but it’ll be a good test whether I can take you back through these alleys without your help, right?”
She looked at him disbelievingly. “You couldn’t have memorized all the routes with a quickie tour and some of the rough maps I drew up.”
“Try me.”
“And if you lose?”
“I won’t.”
He sounded so arrogant, she was tempted to just disappear down one of the alleys and leave him there. If he was so damn good, he could find his way back to…She bit down on her lower lip as horrifying images immediately popped up.
“Don’t go there,” he said, reading her mind.
She swerved around to face him. “How can you not be affected by it? Going in and out of those places.” She jabbed his chest with a finger. It felt hard as rock through his shirt. “How can you be with Dilaver and not want to kill him?”
“It isn’t what I was sent to do.”
She hated simple answers. “That’s it?” She didn’t back away as he came a few steps closer. She had always been on the short side and big guys didn’t particularly frighten her; if he was thinking of intimidating her with his size, he was in for a surprise. “That’s not an answer. These are little girls suffering at the hands of men, Hawk. You can’t just dismiss them by saying that you weren’t sent to help them, so there’s nothing you can do.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said patiently, as if he were talking to a child. “I said, that isn’t—”
“I heard you the first time,” she interrupted, letting her earlier fury seep back in. The numbness was disappearing fast. “If you can stand there and watch…that…you’re heartless and cruel. Even if you don’t take part in it, you’re just as guilty, just like they—”
Hawk moved so fast, she hadn’t even had time to take a breath before she found her back against a wall. His big hands were on her shoulders, firmly holding her in place. She supposed she could maim him with a knee, but for some reason she checked her anger at being manhandled by him again. Instead she stared up into his face defiantly, even though she couldn’t see his expression.
He was silent for a few seconds, then his hands gentled. He took a step back. “I’m not like them,” he said, then turned abruptly and walked away. Very quickly. Without looking back.
Amber stared at Hawk as he disappeared into the shadows.Hewas leaving her? Oh no, no, no. She was a tracker, and no one left her behind like that.
She set out in the direction he took. He was already gone, even though he only had a minute’s head start. She started running. There was no way she was going to lose him.
Lily didn’t know what had gotten into her. She had come here to discuss the interview, yet it was now past midnight and she had stayed for dinner, wine, a video, more wine, and…She surreptitiously studied the man sitting next to her, legs comfortably stretched out as he watched the last few minutes of the movie. His tie was gone, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, his hair slightly mussed up.
She had always known it. Bradford Sun was a wolf in a bureaucrat’s suit. He had demonstrated it tonight, slowly taking down her defenses one by one. He had first tackled business, surprising her with how prepared he had been, throwing out ideas on what to show the newsman. He had numbers and declassified papers from Amnesty International about the human trafficking business to use as quotes. He suggested how to deal with each one-on-one interview with the victims. She was privately amazed at how far he was willing to push the envelope, even to reveal that peacekeepers were contributing to the problem, that his department wasn’t doing its job.
It had been such an interesting conversation, Lily hadn’t noticed the hours going by. He had refilled her glass, and she had enjoyed both the wine and his company as he talked about her other favorite subject, art. She looked at the coffee table. Two bottles of wine. Two margaritas. No wonder she was feeling relaxed.
“Are you enjoying the movie?” he asked.
