Commando
“Let’s call an end to this discussion,” Jake suggested amiably. He opened his hands and gestured toward Hernandez and his henchmen. “What do you say, gentlemen?”
Intimidated by the hardware Jake was carrying and by his size, Hernandez snarled, “Come!” at his goons, and they moved back into a dugout canoe with a small motor attached to the rear.
Shah remained tensely beside Pai Jose, breathing hard. She was still shaking inwardly from the man grabbing her by the collar.
“Thank God,” Pai Jose whispered. He clasped his hands in a prayerful gesture and nodded to Jake. “I don’t know who you are, senhor, but you have surely saved Shah.”
Shah watched as Hernandez’s canoe sputtered noisily away from the dock, heading across the wide river. Then she turned to the American. “Who are you?”
Jake held up his hands. “Easy, I’m a friend. Your father sent me down here to—”
A gasp broke from Shah. “My father! Oh, brother, this is too much!” She leaped from the wharf. Once on the bank, she shouted, “Stay away from me! Just leave!” and hurried up the slope.
Nonplussed, Jake watched Shah head for the mission. He turned to the priest.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“My son,” Pai Jose said in a sorrowful voice, “you just broke open a festering wound in her heart.” He mustered a sad smile and offered his thin hand. “I am Pai Jose. And you?”
Disgruntled, Jake introduced himself. He noticed that the priest’s hand was not only thin, but frail, as well. Pai Jose was probably close to seventy years old. His hair was silvered, and his small gold-rimmed glasses slid down on his hawklike nose. There was a kindness to the man, and Jake was glad he wasn’t angry with him, too.
“Mr. Randolph, may I ask the nature of your visit?” the priest asked as he walked slowly off the dock with him.
“I’m here to take Shah home. Her father doesn’t want her down in the Amazon. He’s afraid she’ll be hurt.”
With a soft chuckle, the priest shook his head. “My son, Shah Travers is committed to saving our precious rain forest. God help her, but she isn’t about to go home with you. And certainly not because her father sent you.”
His mouth quirking, Jake followed the unhurried priest up the path toward the mission. “What do you mean, Father?”
“It’s not really my place to speak of Shah or her personal problems.” At the top of the knoll, huffing slightly, Pai Jose pointed to a small white adobe house that sat on the other side of the mission. “Shah is working with me on cataloging many of the medicinal plants used by the Tucanos shamans of the village. She has a hut down there, but it’s my guess that she went back to the lab to work on some more plant specimens. Why don’t you speak to her? I’m sure Shah can answer all of your questions.”
But would she? Jake had his doubts. He nodded to the old priest. “Any chance of paying you to put me up here at the mission?”
“Of course, my son. You may stay with me at the cleric house.”
“Money isn’t any object.”
“A donation would be satisfactory, my son, with our thanks. Red Feather, a dear Tucanos boy who helps me at the hospital and mission, will take your luggage and place sheets on a spare cot for you.”
“Thanks, Father. Look, I’ve got to talk to Miss Travers.”
“Of course.” The priest smiled, his face wrinkling like crisp, transparent paper. “Dinner is at 8:00 p.m.”
Jake nodded. He placed his duffel bag in front of the door the priest had indicated, then walked down another cleanly swept path toward the lab. He couldn’t shake the image of Shah’s face from his mind’s eye—or his heart, to be brutally honest with himself. The photograph of Shah completely failed to do her justice. She had an earthy beauty. And beautiful was a word that Jake would use to describe her. Although their meeting had been fleeting, her facial features were forever branded on his memory. Her eyes were a tawny gold color, more intriguing than the light brown indicated in the photo. The Amazonian sunlight gave her eyes the color of the expensive golden topaz that was found and mined in Brazil. Her hair, thick and black, held captive in two braids that nearly reached her waist, was the inky bluish color of a raven’s wing. Was it her mouth that intrigued him the most, that made him feel hot and shaky inside? In the photo, her lips had been compressed, but in person her mouth was full and lovely, reminding Jake of the luscious beauty of the orchids that hung in profusion around the mission from the tall, stately pau trees.
He slowed his step as he approached the lab. Shah was a strong-willed woman, there was no doubt about that. She hadn’t screamed, fainted or backed down when that goon grabbed her. No, she’d stood her ground, her chin tilted upward, her mouth compressed and her eyes defiant. Jake had been in Brazil three other times, and on one occasion he’d come face-to-face with the most feared of all predators—the jaguar. He’d never forgotten that cat’s golden eyes widening, the ebony pupils shrinking to pinpoints. The power he’d felt as he’d momentarily locked gazes with that cat was similarly etched in his memory. Shah’s eyes were like the jaguar’s: huge, alive with intelligence, and containing a spark of fierceness that he was sure was a gift from her Sioux heritage.
Shaking his head, Jake placed his hand on the lab’s doorknob. Suddenly this was more than an assignment. It was an adventure—an adventure called “life.” For the last four years he’d been living in a barren desert of grief. Now, with Shah impacting him like a hurtling meteor filling the night sky with its overwhelming brilliance, Jake felt guarded and uneasy. And, simultaneously, he was afraid—afraid that Shah would hate him and ask him to leave. Would she? He knocked on the wooden door with his knuckles to let her know that he was coming in.
Chapter Three
As Jake stepped into the lab, he heard the click of a pistol being cocked. The telltale click made him snap his head to the left. Shah stood behind a table covered with plant specimens, both hands wrapped around a deadly-looking .45.
“I told you to leave,” she gritted out, glaring at him.
Jake’s mouth fell open. Her voice was as low as a jaguar’s growl. Her golden eyes were narrowed, just like the jaguar’s.
“But—”
“I’m surprised my father was stupid enough to send someone else down to try to kidnap me.”
His eyes widening, Jake slowly raised both his hands. Shah wasn’t kidding around, he decided. She was fully capable of pulling that trigger. “Look,” he told her, “we need to talk. Why don’t you lower that gun, and we can—”
“Oh, sure,” Shah said sarcastically. “Last time, Father sent two jerks who threw a gunny sack over my head and started dragging me toward the river, to a canoe they had hidden in the brush.” She pressed her lips together and fought a desire to lower the gun. The man, whoever he was, looked genuinely upset and contrite. She was drawn to his eyes, whether she wanted to be or not. They looked terribly sad, and there were haunted shadows in their recesses. Whoever this hulking giant of a man was, something very painful must have happened to him. Angry at herself, at her tendency to always fall for the potential underdog, Shah hardened her voice. “My father sent you. That’s all I need to know! Now get out of here, go back to Manaus, and leave me alone!”
Jake heard the real distress beneath the hardness that she was trying to bluff him with and slowly lowered his hands. “Where I come from, we introduce ourselves. I’m Jake Randolph. I work for Perseus, an organization based in Washington, D.C. It sends people around the world to help those who are in trouble.”
With a twist of her lips, Shah moved carefully, the gun still pointed at Jake. “As you can see, Mr. Randolph, I’m not in trouble.”
“You were a few minutes ago, lady.”
“I could have handled Hernandez!”
“That big goon of his was going to pick you up by your collar and probably throw you into the Amazon. Then what would you have done? Gotten eaten by piranhas?” Jake was teasing her, hoping she’d lower the gun.
Scowling, Shah kept the long wooden table covered with plant specimens waiting to be cataloged between them. The lab had no electricity and had to rely on the natural light that filtered through the three large windows. “I swim in the Amazon and the channels all the time, and the piranhas don’t attack me.”
Allowing himself a bit of a grin, Jake said, “Because you’re the meanest junkyard dog in the neighborhood?” He liked Shah. He sensed she was trying to bluff her way out of the situation. But in her eyes he could see a gamut of very real emotions bubbling close to the surface. He saw fear, real fear, in her eyes, a little anger, and a whole lot of wariness. More than anything, he liked the soft fullness of her lips and those flawless high cheekbones. Her wide, lovely eyes took on a slightly tilted appearance in her oval face. Jaguar eyes.
Jake Randolph’s teasing lessened some of Shah’s primal fear of him. She ignored his smile and tried to pretend she didn’t like the strong shape of his mouth. Despite his craggy features, there was a gentleness to him that threw her off guard. How could anyone who looked that harsh have a gentle bone in his body? Her experience with men had taught her that none of them were to be trusted, anyway—regardless of their looks. “Sit down. Over there, in that wooden chair. And don’t try any funny stuff.”
Jake nodded, moving unhurriedly so as not to alarm her. He quickly scanned the lab. It was swept clean, and the walls were whitewashed, but green mold still clung stubbornly to the corners near the ceiling, speaking eloquently of the tropics’ high humidity. The building held many tables, as well as a microscope and other scientific equipment. He saw a small glass of water with a lovely pink-and-white strand of small orchids in it. It gave off a faint perfume that was light and delicate—like Shah. He sat down.
“Now, with your left hand, very slowly take that gun out of your holster and place it on the floor. Kick it away from you with your foot.”
“I’m a southpaw,” he offered, giving her a slight smile.
Irritated, Shah moved closer, always keeping the table as a barrier between them. “Then use your right hand.”
Jake unsnapped the leather safety, withdrew the Beretta and laid it at his feet. “See? If I was really out to get you, I wouldn’t have told you that, would I?”
“On the other hand,” Shah snapped waspishly, “you could be lying. You could really be right-handed. Most people are.”
He straightened and laughed. It was a deep, rolling laugh that filled the lab. “Your logic is faultless.” He held her distrustful gaze. “You know, you ought to think about working for Perseus. They could use someone like you. You think like a marine.”
Shah fought to shake off his sudden and unexpected laughter. She saw the light dancing in his gray eyes, as if he truly enjoyed their repartee. Her hands were sweaty, and the gun was heavy. Shah hated guns, but they were a way of life down here in the Amazon. “If that’s supposed to be a compliment, then I don’t accept it. Now, push that gun away with the toe of your boot.”
Jake gave the Beretta a healthy shove, and the pistol slid across the wooden floor. He watched as Shah started to move toward it. If he was going to get her to realize he wasn’t her enemy, he had to earn her trust.
“Don’t you want me to put my knife on the floor and kick it away, too?”
Shah halted and frowned. “Yes—I guess so. Do it—please.”
“Right or left hand?”
There was amusement in his eyes, and Shah knew he was playing her for a fool. “When you get done laughing at me, you can use your right hand.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“Really?”
Jake placed the knife on the floor. “It’s rude to laugh at people. At least that’s what my mother taught me.”
“Then what did I see in your eyes?”
“Admiration.”
Shah watched him kick the knife away. It landed near the pistol. This Randolph stymied her. “Now you stay still while I pick up your weapons,” she told him. “One move and I’ll blow your head off.”
Jake didn’t believe Shah’s blustering. To disarm her distrust of him, he said, “I admire your courage under the circumstances. Not many women would be living in the Amazon jungle alone.” She was shaken, he could tell, and he saw the pistol tremble in her hand. Carefully she moved toward his weapons, all the while keeping her gun trained on him.
With the toe of her boot, Shah kicked the weapons beneath the table. Finally she lowered the gun. There was a good ten feet between the two of them. “Father must have really gotten lucky snagging you. His last two tries failed miserably, so he must have put up a lot of money to hire the best kidnapper he could find—you.” She allowed the pistol to hang at her side as she wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her left hand. “Too bad he couldn’t have put all that wasted money into a nice donation to save the rain forest here, instead. But then, he wouldn’t do that.”
“He’s sent two other teams down here to kidnap you?” Jake asked. There was indignation in his voice—and anger, too. He and Morgan instinctively hadn’t trusted Travers. Now he was beginning to understand why.
Wearily Shah leaned against the wall, tense and on guard.
“I don’t know why I’m wasting my time talking with you. I’ve got a million things to do. Just stand up and go back down to the wharf. I’ll have Red Feather take you by canoe to the nearest village where the tugs dock when they’re working for Hernandez, pushing the logs down the river.”
“I don’t want to go.”
Her spine stiffened, and she glared at him. “You don’t have a choice!”
“Sure I do.” Jake held up his hands in a peace-making gesture. “I’m not here to kidnap you. Your father hired me to try to talk you into coming home.”
With a bitter laugh, Shah said, “Sure he did! He’s a cold, hard businessman, Randolph. Anyone who gets in the way of his greedy progress is a liability, and he gets rid of them pronto. I’m a liability.”
“Why would he want you out of here?” Jake asked reasonably, purposely keeping his voice low and soothing. Every minute spent with Shah convinced him that he should stay around. For the first time, Jake saw the slight shadows beneath her glorious golden eyes. There was tiredness around her mouth, too. Even the clothes she wore seemed a size too big for her. Was she working herself to death down here?
“Because,” Shah said wearily, “he probably wants to protect his investment. I’m fighting a one-woman war to stop the destruction of the rain forest. Not that I’m the only one. There are other groups. But this area is especially important. Hernandez is particularly adept at slash-and-burn techniques.”
Jake gave her a long look. “That’s a hell of an indictment against anyone, especially your father.”
Just the roughened tone of his voice soothed Shah’s frayed nerves. He had a way of defusing her, and it made her relax.
She straightened, making sure the pistol fit snugly in the palm of her hand. She couldn’t trust this giant of a man. He could jump her if he got her off guard. His size alone would overwhelm her ability to defend herself and escape.
“Unfortunately, I am his daughter, but that’s where any connection between him and me ends,” Shah told him tightly. “My mother divorced him when I was twelve years old, and I couldn’t have been happier.”
“Why?”
Shah gave him a wide-eyed look. “Why would you want to know?”
“Because I care.”
He did. It was on the tip of Shah’s tongue to deny Randolph’s words, but she saw genuine caring in his eyes, and felt that same powerful sense of protection emanating from him that she had on the dock when Hernandez’s bodyguard grabbed her. Fighting the feeling, because it was foreign to her, Shah resurrected what little anger was left and snapped, “You care because he’s paid you some fantastic sum of money! I know your kind, and I’m not about to trust you, so forget it! Now stand up!”
“I’m telling you the truth, Shah.” Jake purposely used her first name to defuse her intent. It worked. He saw a startled expression momentarily flit across her features.
“Truth!” Shah spit out. “The only truth I see is you’re a hired gun of my father’s!”
“What was it someone said? Truth hurts, but it’s the lie that leaves scars? Why can’t you believe me? I’m not here to kidnap you. Your father asked me to try to persuade you to come home, but if I couldn’t, then I was to become your bodyguard instead.”
Rolling her eyes, Shah moved behind the table. She placed the heavy gun on the wooden surface. Her hand had grown tired from holding it. Wiping the sweat from her upper lip, she glared at him. “Don’t quote philosophy to me. The most dangerous kind of lie is the type that resembles the truth!”
“Who said that?” Jake asked, truly impressed by her philosophical bent. He was delighted with the discovery; it was just one more amazing facet to Shah Travers.
“Oh, please! I had six years of college. Don’t you think I took a course or two in philosophy? Kant? Descartes?”
“Great, we have a lot more in common than even I thought. We’ll get along fine.”
“You aren’t staying!”
“Now, Shah, I told you the truth. It’s obvious to me you need me to stay. Fine. I’ll just hang around like a big guard dog and protect you from the likes of Hernandez and his goons.” Jake grinned, but inwardly he felt sorry for Shah. She appeared unsettled and exhausted. And why shouldn’t she feel that way? Hernandez had been ready to have her beaten up if Jake hadn’t arrived in the nick of time. She knew it, too, he suspected. Shah was nobody’s fool.
“You can’t stay because I don’t want you to stay.”
“I can be of help to you.”
“I suppose you have a degree in biology?”
“No, but I have a degree in philosophy.”
“That doesn’t get these plants identified and cataloged.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
“You’re impossible!”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment, Randolph, so don’t sit there preening about it.”
He tilted his head. “Are you mad at all men, or just your father?”
The question, spoken so softly, caught Shah off guard. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Hernandez was wearing off, and she felt shaky, mushy-kneed. She pulled over a four-legged wooden stool and sat down. What was it about Jake Randolph that threw her off-balance? Maybe it was his grave features, which looked carved out of granite, or his powerful physical presence. One look into those light gray eyes and Shah had realized she was dealing with a highly perceptive man. She had no experience with his type, so she didn’t know how to react to him. Instinctively, she felt him trying to get her to relent and trust him.
Rubbing her brow, Shah muttered, “My track record with men isn’t great. I don’t trust any of them farther than I can throw them.”
“Beginning with your father?” Jake needed to know the truth about Shah’s background. It would give him understanding of her distrust toward him.
“I don’t owe you my life story.”
“That’s true.” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “I was born and raised in the Cascade Mountains of Oregon. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been there, but it’s one of the most beautiful places on the face of Mother Earth.”
Shah’s eyes narrowed. He’d used the term Mother Earth. What was Randolph up to? No one used that term unless they were Native American or some of the ecologically responsible people who believed in the Gaia theory, which held that the planet was indeed, a living being.
Ah, success! Jake mentally patted himself on the back for using the term Mother Earth. Shah had sat up. He had her full, undivided attention. Perhaps the more he revealed of himself the more she’d learn to trust him. Inwardly Jake laughed at the thought. He had been a typical male bastion of silence before marrying Bess. He’d been unable to communicate, unable to share what he was feeling with her. However, Bess wouldn’t stand for the one-way communication system, and she’d insisted he open up. He was glad, because their marriage had deepened with joy and sharing as a result. Still, he wasn’t used to baring his soul to just anyone, and on one level Shah was a stranger to him. On another level, however, Jake sensed, with a knowing that frightened him, that they were very much alike.
“I grew up on a small farm in a valley where my dad made a living for us by growing pears. We had a huge orchard, and my two sisters and I worked with him when we didn’t have school. Dad was a real philosopher. He saw everything in terms of seasonal changes, the earth being alive, and respecting the environment. We never dumped oil on the ground, threw away a battery in the woods or put fertilizer on the soil. Instead, we had a couple of cows for milk, three horses because we kids liked to ride, and plenty of rabbits and chickens for food. He used to compost all the garbage from our household and spread it through the orchard twice a year as fertilizer. Dad had the finest pears in Oregon.”
“You said ‘Mother Earth,’” Shah growled, uncomfortable.
Jake nodded, placing his hands on his knees. He saw the curiosity burning in her eyes and realized he’d struck a responsive chord in Shah. Jake hadn’t felt so excited in years. Shah was a challenge, yet he sensed a fierce, caring passion lurking just beneath her prickly exterior. She had a passion for living life, Jake realized, and that excited him as little had since Bess’s and the children’s deaths.
“Yes, I did.”
“Are you Native American?”
“No, just a combination of Irish, Dutch and English.”
“Then why did you use that term?”
“Because my parents always spoke about the planet that way.”
Shah sat back, trying to gauge whether Randolph was giving her a line or was really telling her the truth. “Oh…” she murmured.
Pleased that Shah was softening toward him, Jake continued in his rumbling voice. “I think Mom might have had a little Native American in her. Cherokee, maybe, somewhere a long ways back.”
“Then that would give you some Native American blood.”
Chuckling, Jake held up his hand. “Darlin’, I’m about as white as a man can get. No, if I’ve got a drop of Cherokee in me, it’s so washed out that it wouldn’t matter.”
Shah pointedly ignored the endearment that rolled off his tongue. It had felt like a cat licking her hand. “But it does,” she said fervently. “It’s a gene type. Even if you have just a drop of Cherokee blood, it would be enough. Genes have memory, and it’s possible that your Cherokee gene is a dominant gene, which would give you an understanding that our planet is more than just a planet. She’s alive. She communicates, and she breathes, just like us.”
There was such burning hope in her eyes that Jake couldn’t bring himself to argue with her. Then again, she was a biologist, and she knew all about genes and such, so she could be right. If that meant something important and vital to Shah, then Jake was willing to go along with her logic. “Well, I feel what matters is what we do on a daily basis,” he demurred.
“Your walk is your talk. That’s a Lakota saying.” Thrilled that she was actually communicating with him, Jake heaved an inner sigh of relief. The gold in Shah’s eyes danced with sunlight now, as if she’d met a brother of like mind. However, Jake didn’t want to be her brother. Far from it.
“Lakota?” he asked, fighting back his less-than-professional thoughts.
“Yes.”
“What’s that?”
“Whites call us Sioux, but that’s an Iroquois word that means ‘enemy.’ We call ourselves Lakota, Nakota and Dakota. There are three separate tribes, depending upon where you were born and the heritage passed down through your family. My mother is Santee, and that’s Lakota.”
“I see.” Jake smiled. “I like learning these things.”
“In Brazil,” Shah went on enthusiastically, “the people are a combination of Portuguese, African and native. Brazil is a melting pot, and they certainly don’t worry what color you are. And on top of that, the largest concentration of Japanese outside of Japan live in SÃo Paulo. Did you know that?”