“Thomas,” she hissed, untying and ripping off her shoes. “We have to swim. It’s our only chance.”
“I no swim,” he said, shaking his head, his dark eyes wide with fear.
Ah, no. Thomas was from a mountainous village and hadn’t even seen the ocean before coming to their refugee camp. Why had she stupidly assumed any fourteen-year-old boy would know how to swim? Didn’t they have lakes in their mountains? The Delta family from back home had a lake in their valley and her friend Aiden Delta had improved her and her friends’ swimming skills in the chilly waters. Most of them had just wanted to see Aiden without his shirt on, but she’d actually listened to his tips and he’d helped her swim even better than the swim instructors of her youth. She could picture Aiden now with his irresistible smile and piercing blue eyes. He was far too good-looking just like all of the Deltas, but fun to tease and laugh with.
She blinked away the memory from home. Facing death was making her pensive.
“I’ll tow you,” she encouraged, grabbing his hand and yanking him toward the water.
Thomas looked as terrified of going into the ocean as he did facing the men. But he obediently slid his shoes off and let her pull him across the beach and into the softly breaking waves. The water was cool and welcoming, as if the ocean was offering them refuge.
“Stop.”
The cold command and cocking of two pistols came from behind them. Melene had the impression nobody argued with that man, and she could only imagine he was accurate with his instruments of death.
Melene and Thomas whirled to face the men. They were at the bottom of the rocks, not stepping onto the beach, as if the sand would sully their boots. They each held pistols in their hands, pointed right at Thomas. How did they instinctively know she would protect Thomas?
Melene’s pulse raced out of control. Could they dive into the water and swim away without getting shot? If they could both swim, they had a one in a million chance. With her pulling and towing a boy afraid of the water, they were dead.
She prayed desperately for some help or inspiration. With no idea what to pray for, she simply repeated in her mind,Please, please, please help … somehow.
Thomas bravely splashed in front of her in the knee-deep water and put his hands out. “No kill the lady,” he yelled.
General Phillip let out a cultured laugh that was echoed by the other man’s more guttural chuckle. Their laughter cut off abruptly, as if they’d cued it. The only sound was the lapping of the waves and all of their panting breaths.
“It will be with pleasure that I shoot both of you between the eyes,” General Phillip said, as if telling them he was going to eat a fillet of salmon for dinner. He made no move to step closer, knowing they had no escape. “After you explain precisely who you are, how you knew to eavesdrop on us, and what exactly you overheard.”
“Why would we tell you anything if you’re going to kill us?” Melene hurled at him, stepping to Thomas’s side despite his attempts to stay in front of her. There was no hope of escape. Despair stronger than the darkest night surged in her chest. Could she protect Thomas? Not if he couldn’t swim.
“An American?” General Phillip’s brows rose.
With Melene’s mixed heritage of an Italian mom and African-American dad, many people had a hard time guessing her nationality, especially as she’d lived abroad for over ten years and had picked up muted accents from everywhere. Interesting that this man instantly knew she was American.
“Yes,” she said, tilting her chin up. “I have American military protection, and you will be swiftly brought to justice if you murder us.”
He laughed again. It was dark and cold. “Come now, my cheeky and lovely American. We both know your President isn’t willing to rock the boat and risk nuclear winter. There might be a few military special ops units hoping to sneak into the action, but they have no jurisdiction here and wouldn’t risk an international incident for a citizen who stuck her pretty nose in business where it does not belong. Your life is of little consequence to your military or your country.” He looked her over, and her unease battled with the despair. “But you are an extremely beautiful woman. You want a deal, love? Everybody likes a deal when they’re facing death.” He nodded as if she were agreeing.
“No, thank you,” Melene said primly.
“No touch Melene!” Thomas yelled in support. It sickened her that at such a young age, he instantly knew what the general was after.
“You haven’t even entertained my offer.” He didn’t give them a chance to respond but went on, “I will keep you near my side, beautiful American, as long as I continue to fancy you”—he licked his lips—“and as long as you are only cheeky in the appropriate moments.” He smiled. “And I won’t even kill the boy.”
Melene sucked in a breath. The thought of going anywhere near this man made her skin crawl, but if he’d truly spare Thomas, she would give herself up and pray somehow she’d be rescued before he … she couldn’t think aboutthat.And who in the world could rescue her from the likes of this monster?
“I will have to cut his tongue out,” General Phillip explained casually, “to make certain he squeaks to no one what he saw or heard tonight.”
“No!” Melene cried out.
General Phillip lifted his left palm up in a sign of peace. His right hand still clutched the pistol aimed at them, so his sign of peace was a little hypocritical. “It is a very generous offer for a couple of spies.”
“We no spies,” Thomas spit out. “Melene protects and loves the children.”
“How very benevolent of her,” General Phillip said in what he probably thought was a charming voice. “Now she will have the privilege of loving me.”
Melene’s stomach curdled like she’d guzzled a gallon of rancid milk. She grasped Thomas’s hand and prayed desperately. Was there any other option? She couldn’t see one. The ocean waves lapped softly against the back of her legs, but sadly there was no refuge or reprieve there or anywhere. Not for her.
Tilting her chin up, she faked a bravado she didn’t feel and said, “I will go with you.”