Special Forces Rendezvous by Elle Kennedy Read Free Book Online

hands full in the clinic with some potential malaria patients, so I just left. I planned on radioing them when I reached Esperanza.”
    The men exchanged a look, and then the general gave an imperceptible nod that made Julia’s heart drop to the pit of her stomach. They knew she was lying. Crap.
    She decided to distract them. “Why are you wearing masks?” she demanded.
    “That is none of your concern,” the general said stiffly.
    “Are you kidding me?” she said again, as amazed as she was outraged. “I’m a doctor, and you’re clearly worried that there’s been an outbreak of something. Is it a bacterium? How is it transmitted?”
    “Dr. Davenport, we are the ones asking the questions here. Now please tell us, who in Valero knows you came here?”
    Disbelief spiraled through her. She shook her head a couple of times, wondering how any of this could possibly be happening, but the more she tried to make sense of the situation, the more afraid she became. Her palms dampened, her body growing cold. Something really, really bad was going on here.
    God, Kevin, where are you?
    “Dr. Davenport,” the general snapped.
    “No,” she snapped back.
    He faltered. “No, what?”
    “I’m not answering any more questions until I speak to a lawyer.” She scowled at him. “Or to someone who’s willing to give me some answers of my own.”
    Then she shut her mouth, crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the two men hovering over her.
    After a moment, the general spun on his heel and stalked toward the tent’s entrance. The younger soldier quickly trailed after him.
    Both men exited the tent, as did the two guards, but she didn’t fool herself into believing that the latter had gone far. She suspected the guards were right outside those canvas flaps, ready to shoot her down if she tried to escape.
    Escape.
    What on earth was going on?
    And why was she starting to suspect that the only way she was getting out of here would be in one of those body bags lying on the dirt?
    * * *
    Sebastian watched in growing alarm as more body bags were tossed into the back of the wide-load trucks parked at the entrance of the village. He’d counted thirty-five bags in the first truck, and another forty-one in the second. Had to be the villagers. Christ. More dead villagers.
    The soldiers in charge of disposal efficiently carried out their task without comment or expression. Sebastian swallowed a rush of disgust, wondering how they justified it to themselves. Probably assured themselves they were good little soldiers simply following orders, and who were they to question orders?
    His jaw tightened. Brought to mind all those soldiers in Nazi Germany—they hadn’t questioned much either, had they?
    Battling his rising fury, Sebastian crept deeper into the forest, moving through the shadows like a nocturnal predator. Being a black ops soldier meant he possessed the power of invisibility, the ability to sneak right underneath these men’s noses, even slit their throats without anyone knowing he was ever there.
    Through the trees, he espied a cluster of khaki-colored tents. The men in charge had set up a headquarters of some sort, and that was the place to be if he wanted answers. The strap of his M4 was slung over his shoulder, but he didn’t reach for the rifle. Rather, he slipped a lethal hunting knife from the sheath on his hip and gripped the ox-bone handle with ease. If he had to eliminate a guard, he preferred to do it quietly.
    He neared an opening in the brush and pressed himself up against the rotting bark of a rosewood tree. His position offered a line of sight to the entrance of a tent that two uniformed men had just emerged from. They were tailed by two heavily armed soldiers, and the uniforms marked all four as American. The entire village was crawling with both U.S. and San Marquez military, indisputable evidence that some sort of joint task force was in effect.
    His stomach went rigid as he thought of those body bags.