The Phoenix Encounter Page 20

  That had been nearly an hour ago, and she still couldn’t quiet her thoughts. Robert had always told her she had an unreasonable conscience. She felt too much for others. Not enough for herself. A flaw that had cost her plenty over the years. But Lily had always been an old soul. She’d been born knowing things—feeling things—that normally came with experience or age or both. Closing her eyes, she thought of Robert.

  I love you.

  His words echoed inside her head. She told herself she didn’t want him to love her, but she knew that was a lie. She wondered when she’d gotten so damn good at lying to herself. She wanted him to love her. Wanted that desperately. She loved him, too. Had loved him since the day she’d met him over two years ago in that smoky little pub. She wanted a future with him. A father for Jack.

  But what about your work here, Lily? Are you going to walk away from it? Are you going to walk away from the children? From Strawberry?

  Closing her eyes against the barrage of thoughts, the stab of pain in her chest, she listened to the drip of water in the sink. The tick of the clock on the wall. The occasional thump of a water pipe in the corridor beyond. Fatigue dragged at her, a turbulent river sucking her into its murky depths. She fought the current but felt herself slipping into darkness. Too much to think about. Too much to do. I love you….

  Lily jolted awake, aware that she was breathing hard, that her body was slicked with sweat despite the basement chill. She wasn’t sure what wakened her. Maybe the dream she’d been having about the gun. The soldier wearing the black beret…

  Turning her head slightly, she glanced over at the clock, realizing only fifteen minutes had gone by. She sagged into the bed, set her hand against a soundly sleeping Jack. A series of loud pops from the corridor shattered the silence. Lily bolted upright. She’d been in Rebelia long enough to be intimately acquainted with the sound of gunfire. But she’d never grown used to it, and the sound brought gooseflesh to her arms. Next to her Jack stirred and began to whimper. Scooping him into her arms, she hugged him to her and set her hand gently over his mouth.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs when she heard another series of pops, then the shuffle of boots on tile outside the door. Angry voices followed and Lily knew the soldiers had come to the hospital looking for her. Terror knifed through her at the thought. Not because she feared for her safety, but because of the child she held in her arms.

  Vaulting from the bed, holding Jack against her with one arm, she kicked the pedestal brake and shoved the bed toward the small storage room. If she could get it out of sight and hide beneath it, there was a chance they wouldn’t find her.

  The door swung open before she’d made it halfway across the room. She looked up, saw the silhouettes of a dozen men, heard the sound of steel against steel as automatic weapons were cocked. Her only thought was that they would shoot her—shoot Jack—before even knowing who she was. Razor sharp terror cut through her. The rush of adrenaline came so hard it made her dizzy. “Don’t shoot!” she screamed in Rebelian. “I’ve got a baby!”

  Her heart beat a hard tattoo against her ribs as several men shuffled into the room. She could tell by the black berets they wore that they were part of DeBruzkya’s army. They had a distinctly cruel, ragged look about them. The look of men who’d lost a little bit of their humanity.

  A tall, thin man with a goatee stepped forward, his eyes skimming the length of her and landing on Jack. Without speaking he reached into the pocket of his torn jacket, withdrew a badly wrinkled sheet of paper and showed it to the man behind him.

  “En hur.” It’s her.

  The man behind him was overweight and pale. A cigarette dangled from the side of his mouth. He looked at Lily and smiled. “General DeBruzkya is going to be very pleased.”

  Lily glanced over her shoulder, but she knew there was no escape. She thought about the doctors and nurses aboveground and wondered how many of them these men had killed. Aware that she was shaking uncontrollably, that Jack had started to cry, she watched, horrified and transfixed, as the crowd of men parted. Her knees went weak when she saw the reverence in their eyes. Only one man she knew of could command that kind of respect—even if it wasn’t earned.

  Shock rattled her entire body when General Bruno DeBruzkya entered the room. For a moment, she couldn’t catch her breath. Her vision tunneled on his face. A wave of disbelief swept through her. His gaze sought hers. An emotion she didn’t understand touched his eyes briefly but was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure she’d seen it at all.

  “Lillian Scott.”

  DeBruzkya was a short, rotund man, but he had the voice of a giant. She jolted at the sound of it, then silently berated herself because she saw clearly the moment of twisted pleasure her fear gave him. His boots clicked smartly on the tile floor as he walked to her.

  “How did you find me?” she asked in a voice that sounded amazingly calm considering she was coming apart inside.

  “Ah, such a lack of manners.” He tsked. “You Americans. All business. No time for small talk.”

  “My son is sick,” she said, praying that would touch him in a place that was still human. That even if he killed her here and now, he would spare her son. Please, God, don’t let them hurt Jack.

  Robert, where are you?

  A shiver went through her when DeBruzkya reached her. He wore a snug brown-and-black uniform. Ribbons and medals adorned the left shoulder just above his heart. She thought of the pistol strapped to her thigh and wondered if she could get to it and shoot him down before the other soldiers opened fire.

  He stopped a foot away from her and studied her the way a potential buyer might study an expensive piece of real estate. “You’re beautiful, as always,” he said.

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  The hairs prickled at the nape of her neck when he walked behind her. Vaguely she was aware that the room had gone silent. That her heart was beating out of control. That her precious son was warm and soft against her breast.

  “A little pale. A little thin.” He came in front of her and cocked his head. “You’ve lost weight since I last saw you. Are you feeling well?”

  A quiver ran the length of her when he raised his hand and caressed her cheek. His hand was inordinately soft, and she wondered how such a cruel man could have such a gentle touch. Because she knew he would draw pleasure from any show of emotion, she endured his caress, steeling herself against the revulsion it brought her.

  “You left me with the impression that you were going to write my autobiography,” he said. “I’d been looking forward to working with you. And then suddenly you simply dropped out of sight.” Dropping his hand, he looked at Jack. “Nice-looking boy. I didn’t realize you’d had a son.” He eyes snapped to Lily’s. “I didn’t realize you were…married.”

  Without warning he grabbed her left hand, baring the ring finger, squeezing painfully. “Why no wedding band?”

  “Let go of me.”

  He squeezed with so much force that his jowls shook. Pain radiated through her finger and wrist, but she endured it without crying out. She refused to give him that much satisfaction. “I—I’m not married.”

  Once again calm, he released her then leaned forward and lightly pinched Jack’s cheek. A doting uncle visiting his favorite nephew. “What’s his name?”

  “Please don’t hurt him,” she said.

  “What’s his name?” he repeated.

  “Jack.”

  “Rebelia is a dangerous place for a child.” He stepped back and folded his arms, studying them both. “I’ve seen terrible things happen to children.” He shrugged as if that were out of his control. “If the parents aren’t careful.”

  Her heart pounded furiously. “Don’t you dare threaten me.”

  DeBruzkya raised his eyebrows as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Such fire.”

  “Don’t hurt him,” she repeated.

  “The rebels, Lillian. They’re the ones causing all this…violence. They’r
e out of control.”

  Lily thought of Strawberry and felt her hands curl into fists. She could hear her breath coming swiftly. She tried to calm herself, but the combination of fury and terror pumped pure adrenaline through her veins. “What do you want?”

  He smiled, like a rodent that had made off with the cheese an instant before the trap snapped closed. Leaning close, well out of earshot of his men, he whispered, “You will know in due time, Lillian. It is our destiny.”

  She flinched when he raised his hand abruptly and snapped his fingers. “Search her for weapons, and then they will be coming with us!” he barked in Rebelian.

  “No,” she said. “Please, no.”

  Glaring at her, DeBruzkya grasped her bicep and jerked her toward him, so close their faces were nearly touching. “Do you think you can make of fool of me?”

  “Please, just let us go.”

  “I’m never going to let you go. That’s the one thing you can count on.” Cruelty glinted within the depths of his eyes. He pulled away. “Be careful with her,” he said to his men. “I don’t want either of them injured.”

  Trembling and incredulous and more terrified than she’d ever been in her life, Lily watched as two soldiers started toward her. She had no idea if DeBruzkya knew that she was part of the rebellion; he’d given her no indication. If he did, she felt sure that she was as good as dead—or worse. The thought sent a bitter rise of bile to the back of her throat. She’d heard the stories of what happened to rebels who were captured. Most kept a final bullet in the chamber of their pistols, preferring death over capture.

  If there had been an avenue of escape at that moment she would have taken it. She would have risked a bullet in her back simply to escape whatever they had in mind for her. But with her child in her arms and a dozen soldiers surrounding her, she knew it was useless. There was no escape, and she wasn’t yet to the point of suicide.

  She stood motionless, her heart banging against her ribs like a mad drum. The two soldiers approached her, their faces completely devoid of emotion. Lily looked at the youngest of the two men. He couldn’t have been much over twenty, and she found herself wondering if he had any idea what kind of man DeBruzkya was.

  “Don’t do this,” she said.

  Grimacing, the younger man took her arm while the other quickly and impersonally ran his hands over her body. Lily closed her eyes when he discovered the pistol strapped to her thigh. “General!”

  But DeBruzkya was already at her side, his eyes amused and unnervingly cruel. “Ah, Lillian, you have many surprises in store for me, no?”

  Because her heart was in her throat, Lily didn’t answer. Just stared at him, horrified by the realization that if he took her pistol, she would have no way to protect herself or Jack.

  Never taking his eyes from hers, DeBruzkya yanked up her skirt. She tried to shift away when he ran his hand over her thigh, but the soldier holding her squeezed her arm painfully, and she stilled. The general’s fingers lingered inches from her panties, then quickly unholstered the tiny pistol. Smiling, he examined it and shoved it into the waistband of his slacks. “I’ll keep this for you,” he said, then to his men, “let’s go!”

  The soldier holding her arm forced her toward the door. Lily clutched Jack tightly and tried hard not to think about what DeBruzkya had in store for them. More frightened than she’d ever been in her life, she pressed her face against the top of her son’s head and began to pray.

  Robert had learned to trust his instincts over the years. As he made his way to the hospital, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He felt it as clearly as he felt the light rain on his face.

  One block from the hospital, he ducked into the alley across the street and looked at the three-story structure, his eyes moving to the top floor, the third window over from the south side. His blood stalled in his veins when he saw the white length of curtain flapping in the breeze. It was a signal he’d discussed with Dr. Orloff. If there was a problem—any kind of problem—while Robert was at base camp, Dr. Orloff was to open that window and put out a white flag to warn him.

  Blood zinging through his veins like a spray of bullets, Robert broke into a dead run, a hundred scenarios flashing through his mind. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Lily and Jack were in the safe room in the basement, but he knew DeBruzkya was a master at getting information, at making people talk.

  Ice pick jabs of pain flared in his thigh as he ran, but the fear clenching his chest dwarfed it. He sprinted down the street with the speed of an Olympian athlete, then took the crumbling steps of the hospital three at a time to the top. He didn’t think before bursting through the doors. He knew better than to enter a building without knowing who was inside. But it was emotion driving him now, not logic.

  Pulling the revolver from the waistband of his jeans, he entered the lobby, found it eerily quiet. He heard someone crying, then spotted a young nurse sitting on the floor behind the desk. Next to her a man in a white lab coat lay on his back in a pool of blood.

  Robert sprinted over to her, speaking in Rebelian. “What happened?”

  She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “The soldiers came. Several people were shot. Please, help me. He’s been shot.”

  “I’m a doctor.” Robert knelt, but knew immediately there was nothing he could do for this man. Setting his hand against the man’s throat, he felt for a pulse. When none came, he sat back on his heels and shook his head. “I’m very sorry, but he’s gone.”

  Putting her face in her hands, the woman sobbed.

  Robert put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, outrage and anger burning through him. “Are the soldiers gone?”

  “They left about ten minutes ago.”

  “How many soldiers?”

  “I don’t know. Fifteen or so. Maybe more.”

  “Where’s Dr. Orloff?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did the soldiers take anyone with them?”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “There was a woman and a child.”

  Robert didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He jumped up, felt the world rock beneath his feet as his worst nightmare became a reality. For several long seconds he stood there, breathing hard, trying to decide what to do next.

  DeBruzkya had Lily and Jack. The woman he loved and his innocent son were in the hands of a madman.

  And suddenly Robert knew what he had to do. He knew it would be the most dangerous mission of his life. Only he was no longer acting as an ARIES agent, but a man who would do anything to save his family.

  Chapter 15

  Lily should have realized where DeBruzkya would take them. That like the spider he was, he would take them to his lair where he would have complete control and the freedom to do with them as he pleased. But her mind was so cluttered with emotion she wasn’t thinking clearly. She could handle becoming a prisoner. But the thought of DeBruzkya hurting Jack was too much to bear. As the soldiers had marched them through the forest toward the Veisweimar Castle, she decided she would do anything—including giving up her own life—to keep him safe.

  The castle was like something out of a medieval movie replete with a moat, gargoyles and a drawbridge. The place was huge and surrounded by high stone walls. It had been built during medieval times, then fell to ruin and was swallowed by the forest. During World War II, the Nazis had transformed it into a prison. After the war, it had once again fallen to ruin. Lily had never imagined DeBruzkya transforming the place into a modern-day fortress.

  The soldier behind her snapped something in Rebelian and prodded her between the shoulder blades with the muzzle of his gun. Lily stepped onto the drawbridge, shuddering at the sight of the black water below. Her arms ached from carrying Jack for so long. She was glad her son had been given a sedative; she didn’t know how these hardened men would react to a crying baby. In the back of her mind, she wondered how much longer the drug would last.

  The soldiers marched her into a large courtyard. E
ven though it was afternoon, it had grown dark. Black clouds roiled in the sky to the north, and she knew the storms would arrive soon. Before her, the tall doors of the castle yawned, like a monster with great jaws about to devour them.

  “Walk!” the man behind her shouted.

  Lily snapped a very American expletive at him. Several of the soldiers laughed, but the word earned her a hard shove.

  She hadn’t seen DeBruzkya since the scene in the hospital. Belatedly she realized a man of his stature would never march with his soldiers. He would travel by jeep. Chances were, he was already here.

  She thought of Robert and closed her eyes against the jab of pain. She knew he would come for her. Knew he would search for her and Jack—or die trying. She’d told him about the Veisweimar Castle, so he would know where to look. If the soldiers found him, she knew DeBruzkya would have no mercy.

  The thought tore her up inside. She loved him. He was kind and gentle and would be the perfect father for Jack. Yet Lily had let him go. She’d chosen the solitary life of an underground rebel leader. And for what? she asked herself.

  But Lily knew the answer. She’d spent her entire life alone and unloved. Shuffled from one foster home to another. It had hurt knowing there wasn’t a soul on this earth who’d loved her. But Lily had loved. She’d loved with the purity of heart of the child she’d been. She’d fallen in love with her prospective parents and siblings. Their backyards with swing sets and trees and little black pups. Still, they’d let her go. She was too old. Too strong-willed. And so they’d deserted her, they’d walked away, filling her young heart with the agony of the unwanted.

  That night in the pub, when she’d been badly injured and lying amid the debris, she’d felt that same pain. The pain of knowing someone she’d loved had deserted her.

  Only he hadn’t.

  Lily closed her eyes against the pain that knowledge brought her. Regret squeezed her heart. She’d made so many mistakes, she couldn’t begin to correct them. She wouldn’t even know where to begin. God, she’d been such a fool.