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He struggled up to a sitting position, looked around.
Gulnar gave him specifics of their location. “It’s one of their bases in the Badovnan mountains. We drove for seven hours.”
He’d been out that long? He wondered if he’d have any residual neurological damage. Didn’t matter now. One thing did. Getting Gulnar out. To plan this, he had to have as many facts as possible. “Molokai?”
“Yes.”
“I guess I should have expected it.”
“I don’t see why you should have. It wasn’t very plausible for him to venture into the Sredna camp when it’s heavily guarded by a multinational peace-keeping force.”
“Not plausible, but apparently very possible, since we’re here.”
“They had plenty of help on the inside, people who made it possible for them to infiltrate and overpower security.”
It figured. “The woman who confronted you the day you arrived?”
“And whomever she convinced to help. I guess it was too much to believe she’d set aside her hatred.”
“The vindictive bitch! You personally saved her youngest child when she was dumb enough not to recognize he was having an anaphylactic reaction and not his usual asthma attack!”
Gulnar edged closer to him, rested her head on his shoulder. “I guess she hated me even more afterwards.”
Outrage rushed to his head. “Sick. Just plain sick.”
“But not surprising. You don’t find a lot of balanced psyches in refugee camps, Dante.”
“Don’t make excuses for that bitch. You’re what proves a pure soul remains so no matter what.” Her eyes filled. He bent and closed each one with a hot, cherishing kiss. “Which is probably more reason for her to hate you.” He straightened. They needed to use the minutes they had to themselves. “What more do you know?”
“Just that we’re waiting for their boss to come, that he intends to make an example of us for the example we spoiled.”
Hmm. Molokai himself was coming? He could use that.
And he would get his chance, right now. The door to their cell opened, and four armed men preceded a taller, more distinctive one. Molokai.
“Well, well, if it isn’t our worthless host!” Dante took the offensive. He knew what kind of instinctive response he would get from Molokai. He made his blood boil. And one of the men present was Molokai’s right-hand man. The one who understood good English.
Molokai just smirked. “Guerriero. We meet again.”
“Yeah, fancy that. Still playing terrorist, Molokai, like the vicious, stupid failure that you are? Is this how you pretend to be a man? Play with big guns and attack only the unarmed? You want to make an example of me? How about you do it personally, you bed-wetter?”
Molokai’s steel-gray eyes flared. Then froze again. “If you think you’re going to anger me so I’ll kill you right away, you’re wrong.”
Dante captured the eyes of Molokai’s right-hand man, shoved his point home. “I’m daring you to show your men you can kill me without their help. You’ve made fools of them, sold them the lie that you’re a man when you’re just a dirty rat, that you’re a hero when you’re just an arms dealer making millions from their deaths and blind faith. I’m a surgeon, and I use my hands only to heal people. You’re supposed to be a killer. Let’s see who can actually—”
“Shut up, Guerriero. I should have killed you that day you walked into my camp, asking to collect your debt!”
Good. He was already angry. On to the next step. “You didn’t only because I embarrassed you and your men were already restless about the siege in the municipal building. But you always kill those who help you, don’t you? Like your brave men in the hostage situation? Do you…” he swung his gaze to Molokai’s right-hand man “…know that Molokai sent your comrades to die? That he never intended to stage an attack to save
them, that he intended to detonate the place with them inside? He’s only angry his plan didn’t work, that they didn’t all die!”
Molokai took a few angry steps towards him, intending to kick him. Then he suddenly stopped and turned his soulless eyes to Gulnar. No. Keep your attention with me, you bastard!
Dante threw himself at his feet, bowled him over. Molokai landed with a heavy thud on the floor. Dante mounted him with his free legs and rammed him in his jaw with his head. In seconds he was hauled off him and the impacts of a dozen rifle butts were screaming down his nerves.
Molokai staggered to his feet, holding his jaw. “Trying to turn my men against me won’t work, Guerriero…”
“Oh, no?” He turned to the men. “Who do you believe? You kidnapped me from a refugee camp filled with your people, where I’ve been living in the tent you saw for yourself, to treat them, to save their lives. What does your leader do for these people? Or is he splitting his money with you and that’s why you don’t care?”
