Page 21 of Fear No Evil

He muttered a phrase in Gaelic. “I’ll have a look when we get back.”

The hotel came closer, its windows bright with lights that promised warmth and safety. At last, the lecture she’d been expecting came from Jake’s lips.

“So, I could point out that what we just faced was nothing compared to what’s coming, only I imagine you’re aware of that.”

Oh, she was well aware.

“You know, you can always say you got food poisoning at the last minute.”

She rounded on him, switching to French like the professional she was. “I’m going with you, Jacques. Howitz and Barnes were my colleagues. If this had happened five years ago, it could’ve been me who was kidnapped.”

Jake caught her wrist, tightening his hold when she made to pull away. “Je comprends.” His gaze held hers. “I do. Look, if it makes things any easier, I’m here for you, okay? I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. It’s called teamwork, and I expect the same from you.”

Well. That made her stand taller. Squelching the urge to salute him, Maggie let his words sink into her. His assurancedid make things easier. At the same time, she cautioned herself,Don’t get used to the teamwork. It’s only temporary.

“Ça a l’air bien.”Sounds good. She sent him a tiny smile, which he returned.

“Finally. Let’s get out of this rain.”

Plagued by visions of the forbidding El Castillo, it took Maggie hours to fall asleep. Her incision throbbed, even though Jake’s stitches had held, despite their run after the holdup in the taxi. On top of that, she was hyperconscious of Jake’s presence in the bed. Following her insistence that henotsleep on the floor, he had finally acquiesced, lying upside down with his feet where his head should be. Eventually, his soft snores had lulled her into losing consciousness. She awoke to him jostling her shoulder.

“Up you get, sunshine. You’ve got twenty minutes before we meet the other members of the team.”

“Twenty minutes!” Maggie threw back the covers and scooted out of bed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you just fell asleep.”

Mulling over his statement, she riffled through her pack, then marched into the bathroom with one of the two outfits she was bringing into the wilderness with her: water-resistant trousers, a lightweight T-shirt, and, of course, the boots she’d bought for her birthday in May, using the gift card her stepmom gave her.

Jake tapped on the door. “Comment est l’incision?”

Half dressed, Maggie turned toward the mirror and eyed the angry flesh around the stitches with a twinge of concern. “C’est bien.” What a lie. She squeezed a thick line of ointment on it andapplied a fresh Band-Aid. There were only five left in her kit, but Jake had a full stash in his.

“I hope you’re telling the truth.” He said this in English, quietly, through the crack in the door.

“I am.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t forget to take your pills.”

She shook the bottle into which she’d dumped all of her pills‍—Advil, penicillin, quinine, and her anxiety prescription. “I’ll be right out.”Go away!Man, if she was craving privacy now, what would it feel like when there weren’t any walls between them?

Nineteen minutes later, they were riding the elevator to the lobby to meet the others. Maggie stole a peek at Jake. In his white rain jacket, khaki-colored clothing, and boots, he looked like a model forOutdoor Livingmagazine.

As they stepped out of the elevator, the small group in the lobby dressed in jackets identical to theirs made it apparent they were the last to show up. Charles caught sight of them and waved them over.

“Here you are. I thought French people were always on time,” he chided in Spanish, the team’s common language.

Maggie assessed the unlikely bunch of UN peacekeepers.If these people volunteered to trek into the wilderness, then I have nothing to worry about.

Charles introduced them to the lead negotiator first. “Boris, this is the couple I work with at the Secretariat in New York, Madeleine and Jacques Cotillard, originally from Paris.”

Tall and brawny, with a large head, the German’s hand swallowed Maggie’s as he greeted her with a polite nod and serious gray-blue eyes. “Good to meet you.Y usted también, Jacques.” He turned to shake Jake’s hand.

“Un placer,”Jake responded.

Boris took over with the introductions, turning to the petite, middle-aged woman with a thick black braid. “This is Esme Simsek from Izmir, Turkey. Her Spanish is excellent.”

The woman beamed at Maggie, clearly pleased to have another woman present.

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