The soldier in the beret aimed at Rafe’s chest.
Rafe froze. “I think Gabriel would prefer to do that himself, don’t you?”
The man frowned. A rock shot out of nowhere, smashing into his skull. As he dropped to his knees, Holly flew out from behind the truck in an airborne blur. Her shoe connected with the soldier’s head. Lights out. The guy would be in for one hell of a headache.
Behind Rafe, the other gunman swore. Rafe spun and unleashed a liver shot to his gut, doubling down with an uppercut before he could lift his rifle. Rafe shoved him to the ground and yanked his hands together, behind his back.
“Rafe! One of them is getting away.” It was the soldier whose hands he’d tied. “I’ll go after him.”
“Wait!” Rafe clicked on cable ties, at wrist and ankle. The guy could crawl, but not far.
Rafe took off after Holly, reaching her just as she launched herself at the soldier’s legs. The guy smacked nose-first onto packed dirt. Rafe body-slammed his back.
By the time he and Holly had tidied up—locking the bound soldiers in the hut—they’d taken out five men. If more had left on a boat they might be down to half a dozen remaining with Gabriel. Better odds, but they’d be the elite.
“Didn’t I say you needed me?” Holly bent double, hands on her knees. He handed her water, adrenaline still rolling through his veins.
He more than needed her. He fucking loved her.
He shrugged. “I could have handled it.”
She sucked down the water. A helicopter’s blades thudded through the air. He drew her in under the canopy, holding her tight, sensing his heart rate calm at the contact.
“Crap,” she said. “Maybe Gabriel’s leaving—or is our backup arriving?”
“Too soon.” The helicopter passed low overhead. He closed his eyes with relief. “It’s coming in to land.”
“I haven’t heard it return since they took away Amina’s body.”
“They probably dropped her further out, in a trench. The ocean around here will be shallow coral reefs, and they wouldn’t risk her body washing up near their operations.”
Heat pooled between their bodies. He pulled her tight for a second, then let go. “We don’t have much time. Someone will come looking for these guys.”
Holly stabbed the truck’s tires and those of two parked quad bikes, then led Rafe down a narrow path. His pulse quickened. Theo was close, he could feel it. After a few minutes she signaled and moved into the trees, pointing ahead. He crouched beside her. They’d come to a compound, a gathering of huts around a patch of sand and sea grass. Deserted.
“Could they have gone already?” she whispered.
He shook his head, pointing to the helicopter blades still spinning to a halt. “Someone was here a minute ago.” His neck bristled. “I don’t like this.” He jerked his head, indicating they should retreat.
“Raphael!”
Tensing, Rafe swung his rifle barrel toward the familiar voice. Gabriel appeared in the doorway of the largest of the huts—a man, in place of the boy Rafe remembered. Two soldiers with M16s ambled out either side of him, taking up sentry positions. Plants rustled behind Rafe. He swiveled. Two more soldiers eased to their feet, weapons aimed. A trap.
“You think I did not know you were here?” Gabriel said, in English. “You underestimate me.”
“Where is my son?”
“Inside, with several guns pointed at his head. I suggest you stand very slowly, and lower your weapon to the ground. My men are under instructions to shoot Theo if you pose a threat. Your choice.”
Son of a bitch. Rafe eased the strap over his head and laid down the M16, as Gabriel ordered three men to check the airstrip. Damn, Rafe should have hidden Holly—he’d got her captured, again, and now that Gabriel suspected the women weren’t secure, time was ticking on them.
“Just so we are clear, Raphael,” Gabriel said, “it is not just death that may come to your son. My men are under instructions to brand him before they kill him, so the devil will know he is one of us. This is not what I wish to do, but if it is what you choose...”
Putain. Rafe backed away from the weapon, empty palms upturned, nodding at Holly to follow suit. She was seething so hot she might explode. Filling his lungs, he strode into the compound and stood his ground. Holly stopped a step behind him.
“Let me see him,” Rafe said.
On Gabriel’s command, a soldier patted down Rafe, relieving him of the magazine, the phone, the Makarov and the walkie-talkie. At least they didn’t bother searching Holly—making the same mistake Rafe did that first night. With her slight build, it was obvious she carried no gun. They’d find out soon enough about the damage she could do with a knife. He should have given her the phone.
“Patience, my good friend,” said Gabriel. “We have a lot to catch up on, first.”
“Theo!” Rafe’s shout echoed through the compound.
“Papa!” The small voice trembled. “Papaaaa!”
Relief gripped Rafe’s body, followed by a kick of fury. “Everything is fine, my son,” he shouted, in French. “Papa is here to take you home.” He switched to English, and dropped his volume. “Let him go. He is an innocent. He is not like we were.”
“You forget, we were innocent once, Raphael. Perhaps not as innocent as your little rabbit in there, but anyone can be broken and turned into a good soldier.”
“And anyone can turn back.”
“Can they?” Gabriel sauntered down the steps, hands linked behind his back, the pose too stiff to appear casual. He was taller and leaner than Rafe remembered. Neither of them had properly reached manhood when they parted. “Is that what you told our American friend?” He switched focus to Holly. “I do not know what kind of man Raphael has convinced you he is, but I am afraid he seems to have led you astray. He is one of us, and always will be.”
“He could never be the scum that you are.”
“Holly, no.” She was in trouble deep enough.
Gabriel laughed. “Ah, Holly.” He rolled the name slowly around his mouth. Rafe glowered. “I like this name. Like Christmas. So you are on Raphael’s side, yes? Passionately, it seems. And you are confident. Because of the message you helped your friend get out? I am afraid it was all for nothing, my dear. You thought you were helping her, but you killed her. Your friend’s message has been interpreted in official circles as an elaborate hoax by a woman who had become obsessed with a lost cause, a desperate move to procure funding for a struggling charity. By now the media will be reporting that she is being held in an asylum, poor misguided woman. My most sincere thanks for helping me to eliminate her before she could cause real trouble.”
Holly launched forward. The guards raised their rifles. Rafe caged her behind him with his arms. Gabriel wouldn’t want Rafe dead, not yet, not until he’d taunted him a little longer, but there was nothing stopping him killing Holly, even just to spite Rafe.
“Then why are you running away?” She gestured at the chopper.
“No more than a precaution. We never stay long in one place. Adaptation is the key to survival in business. We are Les Pirates Fantômes—that is what your French navy calls us, is it not, Raphael? ‘The phantom pirates,’ and today we disappear.” He smiled, his teeth so unnaturally white they looked blue. He was close enough for Rafe to throttle him. “I am grateful to them for this excellent name, and for leading me to you and your charming son, after all this time. Now perhaps, Raphael, you will tell me why you betrayed me all those long years ago.”
“The aid workers who found me...they told me you were dead.”
“And you believed it? Why?”
“I thought it was the truth.”
“You did not. What truth ever existed for us? You let yourself believe it because you wanted to. You let yourself believe it so you could be released from our bond, so you no longer had to think about me, so you could start a new life.”
“I wouldn’t have gone if I...” Rafe shook his head. “I thought you were dead.”
“You did not!” Gabriel’s face darkened, and contorted. “You did just what we promised each other we would never do. You left me behind. You, who were all that I had. You knew what they would do to me, to punish me for letting you go, and still you left.”
“No, Gabriel.” The words came out in a heavy whisper. So they’d tortured him.
“Rafe?” Holly whispered, planting a palm on his back. “Are you okay?”
He arched, and stepped forward, away from her touch. He couldn’t crumble now, and her gentle tone threatened to break him in two. Theo needed him to remain strong. She needed him to be strong. He had to let Gabriel’s words brush over him, even if this was what he’d feared all these years—that he’d left Gabriel behind, alive. He shook his head. What had he known? What had he believed?
Gabriel might be the devil incarnate now, but back then he was only a year or so older than Rafe. Old and wise, Rafe had thought at the time. It was only as the years began to pass, after his escape, that he’d realized how young Gabriel had really been. Fifteen, at most? The nightmare Rafe had woken from that night had continued for his only friend.
“She cares for you, Raphael.” Gabriel had regained control of his voice. He circled Rafe and approached Holly. “Why is this?”
Rafe swiveled. “Stay away from her.”
“Do not tell me you feel the same. Did she seduce you, so you would protect her? She is clever, this one.”
Gabriel reached for Holly’s neck. Rafe stepped within striking distance, aware of the guards raising their weapons. Gabriel’s fingers grazed the amulet resting between Holly’s breasts. Without taking her eyes off Gabriel, Holly raised a palm to Rafe, signaling him to keep his cool. Her other hand hovered over the knife in her pocket. If she made any sudden moves, he’d have to get to her before the guards opened fire.
“My dear, either you are a powerful seductress, or my friend Raphael has become feeble. The boy I knew would never let a woman’s charms weaken him, no matter how beautiful she was.” He linked his hands behind his back. “Remember that woman in Hadad, Raphael? The one who offered herself to you to save her child?”
“Gabriel...” Feeling Holly’s gaze on him, Rafe tightened his jaw, trying to block out the face of the woman he remembered as clearly as if his brain had photographed her.
“You want to know what happened to her, don’t you, my dear? Shall I tell you?”
“No,” said Rafe. It was not a story to share with Holly. Or anyone. He’d told every haunting detail to the psychologists. Then he’d buried it all. Or thought he had.
“He refused her, then slit the little girl’s thr—”
“Gabriel!”
“Do not worry, my friend, Holly will not be telling anyone your secrets, where she is going.” Gabriel narrowed his gaze, and pivoted to face Rafe. “Or is it that you care what this woman thinks of you? That is even more curious. What did these people do to you, Raphael, the ones you ran to? Did they brainwash you into believing you could live like normal people? We both know that could never happen, with everything we carry in our heads.” He tapped his forehead with a long, slender finger.
“They turned me back into a human.”
Gabriel tilted his head, gazing steadily into Rafe’s eyes. “Impossible. They just created a different machine. One that says and does the right things outside, but inside will always be a Lost Boy.”
Rafe didn’t trust himself to speak. He couldn’t let Gabriel free his ghosts.
“Did they tell you that you were not responsible for your actions, because you were a child? This is where our paths split. I claim responsibility for everything I do, everything I have done. I am at peace with it. You, my friend, are haunted, I can see it in your soul.”
“Enough.”
Gabriel laughed. “I do not believe it—they turned my fearless Raphael into a coward. The boy you were, the things you did—you cannot escape that. It is branded into you, as clearly as...” His gaze flicked to the scar on Rafe’s arm. He spat on the sandy ground. “You have run away from everything you have done, you have reinvented yourself as a hero soldier and a father, but it does not change who you are.”
Rafe sensed the recesses of his mind melting into darkness. Non. He must stay present. “What do you want, Gabriel?”
“Answers, Raphael. To start—I am curious about you being a father. How do you know what to do, when you never had a father? Theo says you do not beat him. Maybe this is why he is a coward, like you have become. But perhaps you do not see your son much. You ran away from him to join the French, like you ran away from me. You like running away. But you have found you cannot run from yourself, haven’t you, my friend?”
Rafe swallowed. How could Gabriel read him so clearly, after all these years?
“Ah, I see there is truth to this. You feel deeply for this boy. This must make a man weak. It has already made you kidnap a woman. What else will it make you do?”
Rafe’s gaze flicked to the weapons Gabriel’s men had taken from him, now lying on the veranda of the large building. The men stood behind Rafe and Holly, M16s slung from their shoulders.
“Shoot me, Raphael? Yes, that is what you itch to do, isn’t it? But then your son will die also. So this will not work. Besides, killing me would be too easy. You would only be finishing off what you started all those years ago.”
Holly stepped up, level to Rafe. The muscles in her face were tight. What must she think of him? He should have told her the truth, opened up to her about what he’d done, warned her what she was getting into. And Theo—what had Gabriel told Theo?
“I don’t want to kill you, Gabriel. I just want to take my son and my—and Holly—and leave you to do whatever it is you’re doing. You’ve proved yourself the winner in this game. You’ve shown yourself to be the better man. Let’s take the easy way out here, for everyone.”
“Oh, I will give you a chance to save your son—and your girlfriend. But I will make it interesting.”
“Gabriel—”
“Do not be in a hurry to leave, my friend, not after all these years.” He wandered back to the veranda, dusted a wooden banister with a handkerchief and leaned back against it. “I have many questions. Such as, did you choose to play the hero or the villain when you were on Penipuan Island? I think the hero, considering that Holly is here, standing with you.” He studied Holly, head to foot, slowly. “He has been practicing that a lot, lately, I think. Capitaine Rafe Angelito. Ah, this is not the Raphael I know him to be, my dear.”
“You don’t know him, then.”
“Holly, no,” Rafe murmured. Gabriel knew so much more about him than Holly ever would. She wouldn’t stand by him like this if she knew the truth. He’d deceived her, endangered her. Unforgivable.
“I know precisely who he is,” said Gabriel. “He is me. We were born from the same fires. Had Raphael not abandoned us, he would have become the leader of the militia, not me. He would have been very good, I think, much more ruthless than me. This man you see here, this hero, he is not real. He has been constructed out of evil, a mansion built of rotten sticks. He might present well, but when he crumbles, the real man will emerge.”
Holly’s hand flicked up to the purple bruises on her neck. Rafe’s skin crawled. “Holly, don’t listen,” he said in an undertone too low for Gabriel’s ears.
“But I think you have seen this real man.” Gabriel pushed off the veranda and sauntered up to Holly, his guards shadowing him. He raised both hands to her neck. “This man placed his hands here and here, and squeezed.”
Holly planted a hand on his chest and shoved. His expression darkened. Reading his intent, Rafe lurched forward. The guards caught him, one on each shoulder, as Gabriel plunged a fist into Holly’s stomach. She crumpled, gasping. Rafe shrugged off one man and staggered toward Gabriel, the other guy hanging on his shoulder with his feet skidding along the ground. The son of a bitch was going down. As Gabriel retreated, shaking his hand, two more soldiers ran forward to close ranks around their leader, guns raised.
“Ah, yes, your anger is there, Raphael. Just like mine. You would sacrifice your son’s life, just to get to me. Yes, this is the Raphael I know. I am glad to have you back.”
“Holly?”
“I’m okay,” she squeaked.
Bile rose from Rafe’s stomach. Gabriel nodded at his man, and the guy released Rafe. Rafe bent over Holly and laid his palm on her back. “You’re sure?”
She nodded, her freckles standing out against her blanched skin. He ground his teeth. Gabriel would pay for that.
“My dear, you fight for him, and look at him with respect, but you must know you can mean nothing to him. No one can mean anything to a man like this, a man programmed to feel nothing. Oh yes, I think you will enjoy the future I have in mind for you. You are one of these women who likes a violent man incapable of caring about you, yes?”
Rafe bowed his head, his chest tightening. Focus. He couldn’t afford to direct his anger to the wrong place. Holly pushed to her knees, panting. She wouldn’t want to let Gabriel think he’d broken her. Rafe gripped her waist and helped her rise to her feet.
“How are you imagining you will kill me, right now, Raphael? Blow my head apart with a bullet? Decapitate me with a machete? Pound my face into pulp with your fists? Cut out my entrails and watch me die? Or, yes, strangle me. Effective, if a little too tidy.”
Rafe tightened his hand around Holly’s waist. She hugged her arm around her torso and gripped his fingers. Seeking comfort, or warning him to stay grounded?
“I don’t want to kill you, Gabriel,” said Rafe. “This can end peacefully.”
“Or do you order other people to do your killing now, Capitaine? My dear, you should know he is capable of doing all these things I speak of. I have seen him do these things to women and children, to people who do not matter and cannot fight back. He was very good at it. Our commander would shout at the rest of us that we should be more like Raphael. I was proud he was my friend. Many years later when I learned this word ‘prodigy,’ I thought immediately of Raphael. He was a killing prodigy. Are you still?”
“You are lying,” said Holly. Her voice was strong, and her grip on Rafe’s hand was true, but she’d become still as ice. Oh yes, doubt was creeping in.
“Am I? Raphael, would you like to join this enlightening conversation?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You will note, my dear, he does not deny it. He cannot, because it is the truth, and he is an honorable man now, a man who does not lie, though his life is a lie.”
Holly squeezed Rafe’s hand, making him feel like more of a fraud.
“Somehow,” continued Gabriel, “Raphael has manipulated many people into believing he is good—the aid workers, the French military, his dead wife, his son—and even you. But you know the truth, do you not? You are too smart not to have figured it out.”
He stepped out from between his men, his gaze fixed on Holly. She stared back, chin raised.
“You have seen the true Raphael,” said Gabriel. “Yes. I see the doubt flickering in your eyes. You think I am the evil one here? No. Everything that is inside my head is inside his. He has just done a better job of suppressing it. The man he really is can be drawn out of him.”
Holly shook her head, as if trying to shake Gabriel’s words from her brain.
“My dear, you and I have something in common. We have both suffered the consequences of caring for this man. You see this?” He placed a finger on his scarred nose. “Raphael, tell her how I got this.”
“Gabriel, stop this.”
“Tell her,” Gabriel spat. “Or I will have your son branded, this minute.”
Holly’s fingers tightened on Rafe’s hand, strong as claws.
“Tell her who did this to me.” When Rafe didn’t respond, Gabriel shouted instructions to his men, switching languages: “Heat up the brand.”