Sure enough a post and wire fence appeared. As Kate was given a guiding hand to scale the fence, a bullet plowed into the post. Kate let out a short sharp squeal then took a leap of faith and hurled herself off the top of the fence and fell sprawling on the other side. Lilburn vaulted the fence with ease, dragged Kate from the ground and both of them scurried off.
Another fifty yards were eaten up without incident. Kate started to tire. “OK, wait, wait,’ she blurted out. “I need a breather… I fly everywhere… I don’t run.”
It was an old army saying. You can only go as fast as your slowest man. He let his charge take a break, tugging on her sleeve to make her sink lower to the ground. In a whisper he let her know this break was to be counted in seconds, not minutes. Lilburn picked up something familiar in the distance. It grew louder and turned into the unmistakable sound of at least one helicopter heading their way. Reinforcements had arrived. Plans changed. Lilburn directed Kate to lie prone on the ground. Doing the same he faced the way he thought his threat came from, his weapon ready. Less than a minute later a helicopter was overhead; the downdraft beat down on their backs. A burst of machine-gun fire emitted from the chopper as the occupants locked onto the hostile. Return gunfire was heard, but not directed at the hovering helicopter. The night sky burst into light in conjunction with an almighty explosion of aviation gas. Kate’s helicopter was now an insurance job and Bomani had successfully provided a diversion.
Kate propped herself up on her elbows and looked over her back. “Damn, there goes my business.”
Chapter Thirty-one
The inn wasn’t exactly up-market — but it was comfortable and clean. At 4:15 in the morning the large neon light flashing Twenty Horses Inn was a welcome sight. Matt was tired — and he needed sleep. The driver wished him good night as he left his passenger outside.
Lilburn kicked the door shut with his heel and heard it slam behind him. The curtains were open and the neon sign was close enough to provide enough light to make his way to the bedroom. The cleaners had been in, there was the faintest whiff of a scent… cleaning product. Switching on the bedside light he noticed the bed had been made up. Fresh white sheets and a fluffed-up white pillow looked very inviting. Pulling the curtains shut felt good, taking off his shoes even better but stripping off all vestige of clothing was the best. He was too tired to shower, time for that when he woke. He pulled the bedding back on one side of the queen bed; the bottom sheet had been pulled tight and tucked in with perfect hospital corners. Lilburn crawled onto the bed lying on his stomach; his head cocked to the side. The sheets had a delightful coolness… first he put one leg under the bedding, then the other. With eyes shut he grasped the bedding and pulled it up to the bottom of his buttocks. Another hand fumbled for the bedside light switch. The darkness was the last thing he remembered.
The staffer making the call had been warned the man he was calling was most likely in a deep sleep, so if there was no reply he was to wait two minutes then repeat the procedure until the phone was answered.
It was his third attempt before Lilburn opened his eyes to daylight strained through curtains. Still in the same position as six hours before, his body took a bit of easing out of bed. The phone rang again. Lilburn stumbled to the lounge before realizing he was buck naked. Pausing to look out the window, he saw he was in full view of any passerby.
The phone sat on top of the kitchen bench. With his back to the front door he lifted the handset to his ear, leaned his elbows on the bench and gave a raspy early morning “Hello.”
A young man replied. “Good morning, sir, may I confirm who I am speaking to, please?”
“Matt Lilburn.”
“I have a message from Director Hall. A car will be sent to you, arriving at thirteen-hundred hours, to bring you to HQ.”
“Wilco.”
“Oh, one last thing, sir, the director also wished me to tell you Dr. Crawston is in room fifteen. Thank you, sir, and good day.”
Lilburn returned the phone to the cradle. Room fifteen, that’s only three doors down. With one hand he wiped the sleep from his eyes; it was then he heard a knock on the window. Standing bolt upright, he looked straight ahead to the rear of the room. Wide awake and conscious of his vulnerability. Oh shit.
The muffled voice from outside was unmistakably English, the gender conspicuously feminine. “Is that you, Mr. Lilburn?”
Lilburn didn’t need to see the huge grin on Evangeline’s face to know it was there. It occurred to him the old saying of being caught with your pants down had never been truer.
“Why, Mr. Lilburn — in some circles it is considered most impolite to turn your back on a lady when she addresses you.”
He heard a giggle.
“Is this why your native Indians called white people pale-face?”
Lilburn raised his chin and turned one hundred and eighty degrees to face the doctor.
A shocked squeal came from outside his window.“Oh my goodness, oh my… my!” Evangeline waved a hand in front of her face as if to cool herself down. “So, Matthew, I take it you don’t appreciate being the butt of my jokes.” She finally lifted her eyes. Now she was the one who felt… flushed.
Evangeline watched through the window as the naked man strolled to the door. She heard the sound of the door being unlocked, but it remained shut.
“Come on in, I need to shower but feel free to wait.” As Lilburn made his way to the bathroom, he heard the door open very quickly. He burst out laughing.
His hand, palm up, extended out under the stream of water. When the temperature reached the point of comfort Lilburn stepped in and pulled the nylon curtain shut. Steam began to rise. He looked up — a small narrow window above the shower head was open sufficiently for some of the rising moisture to escape. Shutting his eyes he let his head fall back, and the pressurized water cascaded over his head and face down to the stainless steel shower floor, rinsing away the grime and the blood. It felt good to be alive. Lilburn lowered his head and opened his eyes. What the water didn’t wash away was the thought of his dead comrades and the families they left behind.
“I heard you were back in town,” Evangeline said from the lounge area. “Homeland rang me and said you were back. They’re going to call you later.”
“Be right with you.” Lilburn turned off the shower then reached blindly around the shower curtain to the wall where motel towels usually hung. The towel wasn’t there.
“Looking for this?”
Taking the towel that was obligingly placed in his extended hand, he wiped his face then wrapped it around his waist before stepping out of the shower cubicle. “Now I know there’s a hand when I need it.”
Evangeline smiled and retreated to the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Make it a strong coffee and it’s a deal. Thanks. Just a drop of milk, no sugar.” Once Evangeline had left the bathroom he pushed the door almost closed then unhooked his towel letting one end fall to the floor. A face stared at him, rugged with stubble. He squinted his eyes then rubbed the foggy mirror with the towel. “Matt, my boy, you’ve aged ten years.”
“Sorry… did you say something?” Evangeline had pushed the door open. The move was calculated. Before she spoke her eyes had taken in the glistening wet masculine body standing in profile. Her heart raced.