‘Why don’t we stop them?’
‘We could,’ Ben said grimly, staring up. ‘But there’s four choppers directly over the compound. If we shoot, we risk a chopper coming straight down. They know that. See how they’re clustered over the buildings. That’s a defence in itself. Second…’
‘Second?’
‘We don’t know who they are,’ he said grimly. ‘Those choppers are huge and expensive. We shoot them down, we find out who they are and we have to face the reality of maybe a neighbour being an armed aggressor. If they’re here simply to get their people out of a bungled situation then our orders are to resolve a situation-not to start a conflict.’
‘But Benjy,’ she said wildly. ‘If they take Benjy… How can you think politics when it’s our child?’
Our child. The words pierced him, making him want to put away everything he’d ever been taught, making him want to run into the compound right now.
It’d help no one and he knew it. He tugged her harder against him. She was no fool, but where a child was concerned… His child…
‘We have to wait,’ he told her, and God only knew how hard it was to say it.
‘But if they take him…’
‘Why would they take him? Lily, we just have to believe they won’t.’
And then it was over, as quickly as it had started. The chopper on the beach rose into the night sky to join its companions. They gathered together above the compound, a menacing, hulking threat, and then suddenly the five machines swept off together at full power, growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared.
They hadn’t disappeared before Ben and Lily were running into the compound, hand in hand, stumbling through the darkness in shared terror.
Benjy…
The sound of the helicopters was still fading in the distance as Ben shone his torch into one room after another, while men shouted warnings from outside, saying not to enter until it had been checked. But neither of them were listening and Lily was clutching Ben’s hand with a fierceness that urged him to move faster.
They found them. The hostages had been herded into one small bungalow at the end of the row. They were bound together, huddled against the furthest wall, their faces blank with terror.
All except one. One hostage was a child, and even as Ben swung the flashlight to find him Lily had her son in her arms, and she was holding him so tightly that it might be quite a while before anyone saw Benjy Cyprano again.
CHAPTER FIVE
MIRACULOUSLY there were no more deaths. The official decision not to oppose the rescue effort had been the saving of many, Ben thought gratefully as he worked through the night. The sound system’s message and the noise of the choppers had made everyone seek refuge.
There were shock cases among the hostages, as well as gunshot wounds. The hostages were a trembling, stunned muddle of emotions, and Ben thought they’d need to bring in psychologists to counsel them.
As for Benjy… ‘I’m taking him home,’ Lily had said, solidly, loudly, as if she had been defying anyone to argue. Ben had been needed, so he’d reluctantly nodded to one of his men to accompany her-to see her home safely. She’d disappeared into the night and he hadn’t seen her since.
Benjy was physically unharmed. For now that was all that mattered. He wanted desperately to go to them, but he couldn’t.
Medical imperatives… He had a job to do.
It was almost midday the next day before he surfaced from the field hospital and could hand over the hospital to Sam.
‘I’m going to Lily’s,’ he said, and Sam looked thoughtful.
‘The whole army’s relieved we got the kid out,’ he said. Then he hesitated. ‘You know, the islanders think the sun rises and sets around Lily. But there’s talk. There’s no sign of the boyfriend. It was assumed he was a hostage, but he’s not.’
Ben knew that. The unknown Jacques. Lily’s fiancé.
‘Do you think he’s an organiser?’ Sam asked bluntly.
‘I’m betting he is,’ Ben said grimly.
‘That’s what we’re thinking. The big boys will be wanting to talk to your Lily.’
‘She’s not my Lily.’
Sam raised his brows in mock enquiry. ‘Not?’
‘She’s engaged.’
‘To Jacques. Who’s not here. I suspect she’s not engaged any more, boyo.’ He raised his brows. ‘And the boy? There’s rumours…’
‘Scotch them.’
‘Of course,’ Sam said blithely, but Ben knew exactly where the rumours stemmed from and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
He was wasting time. He had to see Lily.
Ben knocked and entered the little bungalow behind the hospital. There was no answer. He hesitated but he’d been in and out of this bungalow so many times over the last few days he felt he had the right. He pushed the door. It swung inward and he went right on in.
They were asleep.
For a moment the sight of them knocked him sideways. Lily’s bedroom door was ajar. From the sitting room he could see them clearly, a woman and a child huddled together on a big bed, holding each other tightly even in sleep.
He went further in. They didn’t stir.
Lily had been crying. He could see tear stains on her dusty face. The choppers, flying low, had sent up a swirl of dust and sand, and everyone who’d been near them had been coated. Lily was no exception.
She looked so young, he thought. She looked almost as young as the child in her arms.
And the boy? This was the first time he’d been able to see him clearly. Benjy.
Called after his father.
Ben stood stock still, taking in every detail. Benjy was six years old and skinny, his small face freckled and open. He was wearing stained shorts and a filthy T-shirt. His legs were bare and grubby. His small feet were callused as if his constant state was barefoot. Of course, he thought. This was an island child.
This was his child. His arms were twined around his mother’s neck and his small nose was flattened against her breast.
He looked…like him.
There was a photo he had somewhere of himself at the same age, Ben thought, stunned into immobility. The likeness was unmistakable.
Benjy.
Safe with his mother.
He didn’t cry. Hell, he never cried. Such a thing was unthinkable.
But the kid was…
‘Ben.’ With a start he realised Lily was awake. She was looking up at him with eyes that were uncertain. Almost as soon as she saw him her gaze went to her son, as if making sure his reality was not some hopeless dream. ‘Ben,’ she whispered again as the sleep faded from her eyes, and he wasn’t sure who she was referring to.
‘I’m glad he’s safe.’ It was inadequate but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
‘Are there more casualties?’
‘Five injured hostages, from the original attack, none critical. It’s over, Lily.’
‘They’ve gone?’
‘Yes.’
‘And…Jacques?’
‘He’s gone, too.’
‘I see,’ she whispered, and her lips touched Benjy’s filthy hair. ‘Do you need me?’
‘No. I just came to make sure…’
‘Benjy’s fine. He’s not hurt. He said…Jacques looked after him.’
Ben had guessed that much. However wicked Jacques was, there must have been a vestige of fondness for the boy. Otherwise he’d have been thrust out with the other rejected hostages. Or killed.
At least he hadn’t taken him with him.
‘I don’t understand,’ Lily whispered and neither did Ben. It might take weeks for this story to be pieced together, if indeed it ever could be.
‘Let’s leave it for now,’ he said softly, and he stooped and kissed her softly on the forehead. He brushed tears from her eyes with his fingers, and then knelt and kissed her again. On the lips. She didn’t move, just lay passive, not welcoming his kiss but not pushing him away either. Maybe she needed the contact as much as he did.