Julian ended the call. “You heard the lady.”
“What about you?” Taye asked, hesitating.
“I’ll drive the TIGR and follow you to the hospital. It’ll be slow on busted tires, but I can get there. If we aren’t there by the time the medivac arrives, leave without us,” Julian insisted.
Taye nodded, started the Humvee, and drove away from Julian, tires skidding in the red dirt.
An eerie silence filled the air as Julian watched the Humvee grow smaller and smaller into the distance. Stepping over one of the dead militants of al-Harakat, he headed toward the TIGR.
Reaching the back door, Julian took a deep breath. Swinging the door open, Julian crawled into the back, then stopped abruptly.
He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Mena was huddled in a tight ball, wedged against the floorboard, her face splattered with the blood of the dead driver slumped over the back of the seat.
Julian scrambled toward the back of the compartment and pulled Mena into his arms. She clung to him, her body trembling. Kissing the top of her head, he squeezed tighter, loving the feel of her body in his arms. He weaved his fingers through her tangled hair as she wrapped her arms tighter around his waist.
“Did they hurt you?” Julian asked, leaning back to look at her. She looked shell-shocked and confused, suffering from the trauma of being kidnapped multiple times over the past three days.
“No,” Mena said, burrowing her head into his chest. “I didn’t think you would be able to find me this time.”
“Hey, don’t start doubting me. Nothing was going to stop me from finding you. I would have searched forever,” Julian said, sliding a finger down the side of her face. “You sure they didn’t hurt you?”
Mena nodded.
Julian leaned back and grabbed a canteen of water. Opening the top, he handed it to Mena. “Drink this.”
Grabbing the bottle, Mena gulped the water. Lowering it, she wiped the back of her palm against her mouth.
“Can we go home now?” Mena asked, leaning back against the seat.
“TIDES is sending a plane to El Wak and I can have you back in Nairobi within the hour,” Julian reassured her.
“No … not Nairobi,” Mena said. “I want to go back to St. Basil. I don’t want to be in Kenya anymore.”
Julian rubbed her arms. “Okay, we’ll go home … tonight.”
Mena’s eyes drifted behind him, her face frowning.
“What’s wrong?” Julian asked.
A sigh escaped her lips. “We won’t be going home after all.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Mena stared into the cold, lifeless eyes of Tubeec Hirad. Three heavily armed gunmen dressed in dark green were jogging up behind him, flanking the militant leader on the left and right sides. Bandanas shielded their noses and mouths from the swirling red sand blowing across the desert.
“Look at me,” Julian said.
Mena averted her gaze from the gunmen storming toward them across the flat, desolate terrain.
“We’ve been in worse situations before and we got out of them alive. We’re going to get out of this one too,” Julian said, grabbing her hands. “You trust me?”
Mena searched his soulful brown eyes, but couldn’t force herself to respond. Her trust in him wasn’t the issue.
“Three gunmen behind me, right?” Julian asked.
“Yes,” Mena whispered.
