15
Invigorated by sex, Connor led Shanti northwest, sharing what Shields had told him but leaving out the plans for a possible emergency exfil. He didn’t want to get her hopes up only to dash them if the plans fell through.
“How are we going to cross the river if all the bridges are under guard?”
“That’s what I have to figure out. If I take out the soldiers on and around the bridge, they’ll know pretty quickly where we are and bring everything they have down on us. I need to find another way.”
“I can swim.”
“Good to know.” He wasn’t sure anyone could swim this, but he didn’t say so.
Shields had said that the river, which cut through a deep gorge, was flowing high and fast now because of the monsoon. Naing was concentrating his army there, using the river as a choke point, knowing that, sooner or later, they would have to cross it if they wanted to make it back to Bangladesh.
Connor set a tough pace, and soon Shanti was breathing hard. He tried to offer her some encouragement. “We came thirty-two miles yesterday. I want to do the same today, river or no river.”
That sounded less like encouragement and more like a command, so he tried again. “You’re doing great, Shanti.”
They’d been moving at a good clip for about an hour when he once again heard the distant whir of helicopter rotors, this time to the east. “They’re far away—for now.”
But that didn’t last. By the time they stopped to rest just after noon, they’d had to take cover from helicopters twice.
“I thought … yesterday was hard.” Shanti tried to catch her breath, strands of dark hair that had escaped her braid sticking to her sweaty cheeks.
“You know what Navy SEALs say.”
She shook her head. “What?”
“‘The only easy day was yesterday.’ SEALs do like to whine.”
That made her smile.
They ate one energy bar each, washed it down with water.
Connor kept his poncho tucked into his belt, as they were likely to need to camouflage themselves again at a moment’s notice. “Shields says Naing’s army is concentrated along this side of the river. The closer we get, the greater the chance of running into his troops. Keep quiet and pay close attention.”
“I understand.”
They pushed on, heading northwest, afternoon clouds moving in. They crossed another creek and were headed uphill when Connor heard the sound of rushing water. He followed it west through vines and bamboo canes, hoping it might be a spring or a cleaner source of water than the creek, which was muddy enough to put his filter out of commission.
A little waterfall. It spilled from a height of about twenty feet, joining the creek below, flowers blooming in vines on both sides. The water was cold and clear.
“Perfect.”
Shanti caught up with him. “It looks like a postcard.”
“We’ll stop here, refill our water bottles.”
Drinkable water was the first rule of survival.
He took out his filter and collected their empty bottles.
“If this is going to take a while, can I undress and take a shower?”
“If you’re quick. It’s going to be cold.”
She took out the soap, stripped out of her clothes, which she laid out on a rock, and walked, naked and beautiful, past flowering vines to the waterfall.
Something stirred inside Connor at the sight of her, something beyond sexual desire, something more primal.