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Silence once more reigned and Honor focused on the barren landscape that sped by. She was well on her way into a self-induced hypnotic state when Hancock jarred her from her trance.
“We have to refuel several miles from our current position. It’s a rural village but a crossroads and the epicenter of fuel distribution in this area, so there will be traffic coming and going in all directions. But we don’t have a choice. We won’t make it to the next available fuel supply. When we arrive, I’ll get out and fuel the vehicle. There will be a place for you to relieve yourself. Conrad will escort you, but keep your head lowered at all times, one step behind him, and make it fast.”
“I’m well aware of the culture and customs here,” she said.
“Yes, I suppose you are,” Hancock mused after studying her a moment. “But I never assume when it comes to life or death, so expect to hear more information you already know.”
He had a solid point.
“How many regional languages do you speak?” he asked, surprising her with his seeming curiosity.
“I’m fluent in Arabic and seventeen other lesser spoken languages in a three-country block and quite passable in at least a dozen more. I’m particularly good at mimicry. I hear an accent and can immediately pick up on it.”
Hancock lifted one eyebrow. “How long have you studied Middle Eastern languages?”
“I was self-taught in high school,” she admitted. “Well, before that in junior high, but I went hard-core in high school. There aren’t many high schools in the entire country that even offer Arabic as a course, much less the less-spoken regional languages.”
“You must be a very good student to pull that off in less than a decade.”
She shrugged, uncomfortable with the compliment even though it wasn’t stated as such. It was more a statement of fact.
“I have an affinity for languages. In addition to the Middle Eastern languages I speak, I’m also fluent in French and Spanish and can carry basic conversation in German and Italian. It was just something that always interested me and I pick them up quickly. Once I got to university, I spent an extra three semesters beyond the time it would have taken to earn my degree taking every Middle East language course they offered and taking another dozen online courses concurrently. I knew what I wanted to do after college. My degree was simply a training tool that enabled me to better understand the culture I would be immersing myself in.”
“What’s the going rate for an angel of mercy these days?” Viper drawled.
She felt a quick surge of anger and to her surprise, Hancock shot his man a look of clear reprimand that had Viper clearing his throat.
“No disrespect intended,” he said before focusing his attention through the windshield once more.
“I receive a tax-free stipend,” she said through stiff lips. Somehow for him to question the reason for what she did, to reduce it to a mercenary business, pricked her nerves. “A very small stipend. Certainly not enough to make a living wage back home. My housing is provided for here, but I share—I shared,” she added quietly, “quarters with three other women relief workers. And food is more often than not provided by the villages, though they have little to spare. The certified medical staff certainly make more—they’d have to be paid well to take this kind of job—but the people like me, we’re basically volunteers.”
She fell silent, refusing to say anything further—to defend herself any further when she had no obligation to justify her life to these men. Even if they were saving it.
“Since it will be obvious that we aren’t from this immediate area, if and only if you must speak, do so in the common language, Arabic,” Hancock instructed needlessly.
But this time she didn’t remind him of her extensive knowledge. As he said, when life or death was the ultimate consequence, it never paid to assume.
CHAPTER 11
THOUGH Hancock had warned her—them all—that the village was a crossroads in a rural area, she hadn’t been prepared for just how much traffic flowed through the village seemingly dropped in the middle of nowhere. It was as if the outpost served as a central hub to the entire country. Everyone traveled through this place when traversing the region.
Before they pulled into the outskirts of the settlement, Hancock had quietly warned them to stay close and stick together and for Conrad to get Honor in and out in minutes. Not only was the village an epicenter for people traveling to the far reaches and to other lands, but it was a place where one could acquire just about . . . anything.
Not only was the local economy supported by its steady fuel reserves and an army that protected those reserves day and night, but there were also arms dealers in every other tent, openly displaying their wares. It wasn’t legal, but the government looked the other way, turning a blind eye to the goings-on in the small population.
It was hard to imagine a bustling marketplace where for miles there was literally nothing in every direction. Interspersed among the tents selling guns and explosives and defensive apparatus were women preparing food and selling it. Clothing. Supplies. Fresh water. It could all be had for a price.
There was deceptiveness to the air of festivity. An innocuous feel that was quickly dispelled once someone looked beyond the surface and studied the faces and stances of the people buying and selling wares.
Honor studied every single person they passed as they weaved their way through the village to the opposite end where the fuel tanks were. There was grimness, an air of expectancy, watchfulness and wariness. On constant guard, guns—assault rifles—at the ready that no one tried to hide but kept in plain sight at all times.
