the bazaar. A café near the disco. We had a picnic at the park over on Salazar.”
“You met with him three times?” he asked incredulously. “Lily, what could you possibly have been thinking?”
“Something I should have been thinking about all along.”
“Yeah? What’s that? Suicide?”
“I’m going to expose DeBruzkya to the world for what he is.”
Robert glared at her. “Oh, so you’re going to take him down single-handedly, huh?”
“If I have to.”
“Why don’t you leave that to the trained agents and the freedom fighters? Lily, damn it, this isn’t your war.”
“I’m in the perfect position to do this.”
“Why?”
She changed tactics. “Because DeBruzkya is committing terrible human rights abuses. I’ve seen it, Robert. The mal-nourished children. Entire villages wiped out. Men and women and children.” She thought of the little girl she’d met at one of the orphanages, and to her horror, her voice broke with the last word. “I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he growled. “You’re still as hardheaded as ever.”
“I may be hardheaded, but I know when I’m in a position to make a difference.”
“So Lillian Scott can bring down the infamous Bruno DeBruzkya when the people of Rebelia and the American CIA can’t. That’s rich as hell!”
“I know his weak spot.”
“Oh, yeah?” Smiling unpleasantly, he leaned forward and challenged her with a killing look. “So what is it? You got some kind of secret weapon stashed in your kitchen? Military resources we haven’t yet discussed? Soldiers training in the backyard? A knife in your sock? What? What’s your secret weapon, Lily?”
She met his gaze in kind. “Me.”
The single word echoed like a clap of thunder. Robert squashed down temper and tried not to think about how little of this was under his control. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
Pulling her legs beneath her in a protective gesture, Lily met his gaze. “General DeBruzkya is…intrigued by the idea of my writing his autobiography.”
“So, he’s an egomaniac.”
“Among other things.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” But Robert had read the general’s profile; Hatch had included it in the file, and it read like a horror novel. The anger burning inside him shifted and tangled with a thin thread of fear and ran straight to his gut. “Jesus, Lily. Don’t tell me you’ve—” Robert struggled for the right words “—let him believe there’s something between you.”
“Not exactly.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
She blew out a breath. “Ever since I interviewed him months ago, he’s been asking people about me, trying to find out where I live. He’s invited me to his palace for dinner several times, but I’ve always found an excuse not to go. He’s asked me several times about the autobiography. He’s obsessed with the idea. He wants to go down in history as being one of the greatest leaders of all time.”
“Lily, for God’s sake…”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“What if he connects you to the Rebellion?”
“I anticipated that, and there’s no way he can connect me to the newspaper.”
“DeBruzkya isn’t stupid. He’s cunning and smart and connected.”
“So am I.”
“Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t underestimate me, either.”
Frustration snarled through him that she was being so hardheaded about this. Once upon a time her courage and determination had drawn him, and he’d loved her for it. Now, he figured he’d be lucky if those two things didn’t get her killed.
“I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself into such a dangerous, impossible situation.” Cursing, he rose and paced to the fireplace to stare into the flames. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lily.”
“I’m in a position to make a difference.”
“You’re in a position to get yourself killed!”
“I can handle the general.”
Robert knew she was cool under fire. He’d been in some intense situations with her; she didn’t lose her head easily. Still, the fact that she thought fast on her feet didn’t make her a match for DeBruzkya’s brutality. Robert knew all too well what the general was capable of. His file on DeBruzkya contained not only a psychological profile of the general, but photographs of atrocities most people couldn’t fathom. DeBruzkya was a monster who’d fooled hundreds of thousands of people and brought an entire country to its knees. If he found out a woman he trusted—a woman he was interested in romantically—was putting out a black market newspaper there was no doubt he would react swiftly and violently.
Robert’s stomach roiled at the thought. He glanced at Lily and felt nauseous. He’d seen her die twenty-one months ago. Even though there was no longer anything between them save for a few memories and a truckload of bitterness, he didn’t want to see her hurt or killed. By God, not on his watch.
“What about Jack?” he asked, playing his ace. “What’s going to happen to him if you end up getting yourself shot?”
“I don’t plan on getting myself shot any time soon, so you can cut out the scare tactic crap.”
She stuck out her chin, but not before he saw the minute ripple that went through her when he’d mentioned Jack. And Robert knew he’d struck the nerve he’d been aiming for. He hadn’t enjoyed seeing her go pale. But he damn sure wasn’t sorry for making her think twice about what she was doing. And he’d be damned if he was going to keep his mouth shut and play nice while she walked into the sunset with a madman.
“You may be a good journalist, but you don’t have the training for something like this, Lily.”
He saw the walls go up in her eyes. He’d seen that look a hundred times in the months he’d known her, and he knew she was shutting him out. Damn her for being so stubborn.
“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.
“I’m not going to condone a suicide mission.”
The low rumble of thunder punctuated the words with an ominous finality that raised gooseflesh on his arms.
Shaking her head in impatience, she rose. “It’s late. I
