The Payback Assignment by Austin S. Camacho Read Free Book Online Page B

thought, and it seemed to be getting louder.   A vehicle, heading her way!   For a brief moment, she reflexively tried to straighten her dress and touch up her hair, before realizing what a hopeless effort that would be.   Her chance for rescue would most likely turn out to be a simple local farm boy approaching in an old pickup truck.   He would probably beat her, rape her, and dump her in the next jungle.
                Then again, maybe that was not the worst possibility.   As the vehicle approached she identified it as an aging, green army jeep.   A big black man in camouflage fatigues was driving.   He stared stonily ahead, keeping the vehicle centered on the bumpy road.  
                At the last possible instant, she nimbly leaped to the side.   The silent driver locked up the brakes.   The jeep ground to a halt directly in front of the girl.   The driver’s head never turned.
                “Get in,” he growled in a hoarse voice.   It took Felicity only a second to weigh her options and decide that any company was better than being alone in the jungle.   With a shrug she put one hand on the dashboard and the other on the back of the seat to lift herself up.   But with one foot in the jeep, she froze.   Her eyes were riveted on the small submachine gun lying on the passenger seat.   That sight prompted her to look up and reevaluate the driver.   He carried the foul stench of river water and was covered with a talc-like layer of road dust.  
                “Well, you’re no prize either,” the driver snapped, seeming to read her mind.   “Come on!   It’s either me or the coral snakes and rattlers.”
                Her eyes bulged.   Snakes?   She had not thought about snakes.   Gingerly she picked up the gun, which turned out to be heavier than she expected it to be.   She placed it on the jeep’s back seat with both hands, then climbed into the passenger seat.   Her behind had barely touched the seat when the driver slammed the gas pedal to the floor.   The jeep bolted forward like a spurred stallion, slamming Felicity back into the hard seat.
                Before she could speak, he tossed a question into the silence.
                “Name?”
                “Felicity,” she responded, starting to blush a bit.   “Felicity O’Brian.   Listen, glory, I wanted to thank you, and I didn’t even think to ask your name.”
                “Morgan Stark,” he said, smiling slightly.   “And you certainly can thank me.   I drove a few miles out of my way to pick you up.”
                Felicity wasn’t sure how that could be, but she decided to let his remark lie.   The silence lasted for a good two minutes.   Finally she had to ask.  
                “Okay.   I give up.   How could you know I was out there?”   She found herself smiling broadly when he finally turned to look at her.
                “I don’t know, lady.   Really.   I just felt this pull, you know?   Somebody over this way, in trouble.   Alone.   Maybe lost.   But not scared.”
                “I see.”   She was about to elaborate when a sharp curve almost threw her out of the jeep.   “Are you in a particular hurry, Mister Stark?”
                “Well, actually, there is a small chance that most of the local army is on my trail.   I think I lost them, but I don’t like to push my luck.”
                “The army?”   She was grinning uncontrollably now.   “I seem to have hooked up with quite a character.   Just exactly what did you do?”
            “Well, let’s just say I got caught on the wrong side of a little local political conflict.”
                “Oh.”   Felicity’s mind was alight with a dozen romantic notions concerning “mercs.”   Was he a hardened killer?   A professional soldier?