Desert Secrets Read online

  DEADLY PURSUIT

  When aid worker Lexi Shannon is abducted at gunpoint in Mali, she quickly learns her kidnappers are really after her brother—and the money he’s stolen. Landing at the secluded desert compound, ex-military pilot Colton Landry has a clear mission: rescue his brother-in-law, who’s being held for ransom. But after discovering the kidnappers also have Lexi, there’s no way he’s leaving her behind. Their daring escape soon turns into a deadly chase when their plane is shot down, stranding them in the desert. Making a desperate run for the Moroccan border, Lexi and Colton must trust each other and rely on their strength and ingenuity to survive. But it may not be enough to outrun and outsmart their relentless pursuers…

  “Lexi…we need to go. Quickly.”

  “I don’t understand.” She didn’t want to go anywhere. Not when she finally felt safe.

  “The men who were looking for us have just arrived.”

  Lexi’s heart pounded inside her chest. The men who’d grabbed her were here? A wave of panic streaked through her.

  “We’ll be okay, but I need you to come with me now.”

  Issa was waiting for them. “We must hurry,” he said, making his way in front of them.

  Lexi glanced back as Colton grasped her hand and led her down a sharply twisted flight of stairs.

  Issa pushed open a heavy wooden door that opened up into some sort of garage.

  “Here’s the Jeep.”

  “So we drive out of here?” Lexi asked.

  “It’s our only option.”

  The fear was back, spiraling in her gut. She glanced at Colton and caught the same look of worry in his eyes as he reached out and grasped her hand.

  “We’re going to get out of this.”

  She nodded, but wasn’t convinced anymore that there was a way out.

  Lisa Harris is a Christy Award winner and winner of the Best Inspirational Suspense Novel for 2011 from RT Book Reviews. She and her family are missionaries in southern Africa. When she’s not working she loves hanging out with her family, cooking different ethnic dishes, photography and heading into the African bush on safari. For more information about her books and life in Africa, visit her website at lisaharriswrites.com.

  Books by Lisa Harris

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Final Deposit

  Stolen Identity

  Deadly Safari

  Taken

  Desperate Escape

  Desert Secrets

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  DESERT SECRETS

  Lisa Harris

  Because You are my help, I sing in the shadow of Your wings. I cling to You; Your right hand upholds me.

  —Psalms 63:7–8

  To those who are seeking.

  May you find Him when you seek with all your heart.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DEAR READER

  EXCERPT FROM RESCUE AT CEDAR LAKE BY MAGGIE K. BLACK

  ONE

  Lexi Shannon winced at the sharp sting of her captor’s hand across the side of her face. She blinked back the tears, then reached up to wipe away the metallic taste of blood that had pooled in the corner of her mouth.

  “I’m going to ask you one last time,” the man repeated. “Where is your brother?”

  She looked up at his weathered face and forced herself to catch his gaze. “I don’t know.”

  He stood over her in his khaki fatigues, anger flashing in his eyes at her response. “Then we have a problem, because my boss isn’t going to like your answer. We know he was in Timbuktu with you.”

  She pressed her nails into the palms of her hands, determined not to cry. “He was with me, but like I’ve already told you, he left yesterday morning, and I have no idea where he is now.”

  He squatted down in front of her, his dark eyes boring through her. “Then tell me again. Everything you know about your brother’s visit.”

  Lexi glanced across the makeshift compound where they’d kept her the last few hours. Past the rustic tents made of animal skins toward the endless ripples of the orange Sahara shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight. There was nothing but the sand in every direction and the raging sun above them.

  “Five days ago, Trent came to visit me in Timbuktu,” she said, repeating what she’d already told them. “He told me he’d decided he wanted to see some of the world and I was his first stop. He never mentioned you, or your boss, or owing money to anyone. Never mentioned he was in any kind of trouble.”

  “And the last time you saw him?” he asked.

  A small lizard burrowed through the sand in front of her. Lexi drew in a lungful of air, wishing she could disappear as easily as it could.

  “When I woke up yesterday morning he was gone,” she said. “He left me a note. Said he was sorry, but he’d received an urgent email from someone in the middle of the night—some work-related emergency—and needed to take an early flight out of the country. He said he hadn’t wanted to wake me.”

  “And you didn’t find that…odd?”

  “Not for Trent.”

  Which was true. She’d never completely believed most of Trent’s stories. Her stepbrother had always been a challenge, tending to hang out with the wrong crowd and make bad decisions. But in spite of his shortcomings, he was still family, and no matter what he’d done now, she didn’t want anything terrible to happen to him.

  “Amar?” Another man called from the entrance of one of the tents where he stood holding an automatic weapon.

  Amar nodded at the other man before turning back to Lexi. “Just know we’re not done yet.”

  He left her sitting in the partial shade, grateful to be alone again. From the moment they’d grabbed her from the site where she’d been overseeing the installation of a water well, she’d tried to pay close attention to her surroundings, looking for any means to get out of this situation. But as far as she could tell, there was no escape from this place. Beyond the four armed guards—and one other prisoner she’d only seen from a distance—all she could see was the unending desert sands surrounding them.

  A wave of fatigue washed over Lexi as the reality of her situation began to sink in. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to slow her rapid heart rate, and trying to figure out her odds of getting out of here alive. Amar had threatened her repeatedly, trying to force her to tell him what he wanted to know, but how was she supposed to give him information she didn’t have?

  I’m out of options here, God.

  “Thirsty?”

  Lexi opened her eyes and looked up, surprised when she saw the other prisoner standing in front of her, holding out a water bottle. “It tastes pretty bad, but at least it’s wet.”

  She studied him for a brief moment. Faded Atlanta Braves T-shirt, cargo shorts and a ball cap shading his bearded face from the sun. She glanced back at her captives, but no one seemed to notice or care that they were talking. And why would they? It wasn’t as if they were going anywhere.

  “Thanks,” Lexi said, taking the plastic water bottle. Sh
e took a long drink. He was right. The water was lukewarm and bitter, but she didn’t care. “You’re an American?”

  “I’ve lived in the States for twenty years, but still hold a German passport. I’m Bret Fischer.”

  “Lexi Shannon,” she said, taking another sip. “How long have you been here?”

  “Fifty-seven days.”

  Her jaw clenched. From where she sat, fifty-seven days seemed like an eternity.

  I’m not sure if I can do this, God. Day after day of not knowing if the next moment will be my last…

  “My wife didn’t want me to come. Kept reminding me that the instability in the region has made kidnapping and hostage taking more frequent.” He let out a low chuckle. “I guess she was right.”

  “Does the terror ever diminish?”

  “I wish I could say yes, but so far…no.”

  “So what keeps you going?” she asked, handing back the water bottle.

  He took the bottle, then sat down beside her. “My faith. And knowing my family will keep trying to get me out of here until they find a way.”

  Her attention shifted momentarily to the nearby tent. Two of the men were arguing about something, making her wish she could understand their language. And making her want to believe that her faith and hope was all she would need to get her through this.

  But what if she wasn’t strong enough for whatever lay ahead?

  “I heard Amar interrogating you,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Why do they keep asking you about your brother?”

  “They say he owes their boss money. A lot of money, apparently, and he thinks I know where they might find him. He said they’ll kill me if I don’t help them.”

  “You’re worth more alive than dead.”

  “Am I? I’ve heard that the United States won’t pay ransoms, and I certainly can’t pay back what my brother owes.”

  “I understand how you feel. Because I have a German passport, they think the country will pay, but if that’s true, no one on either side seems to be in a hurry.”

  She didn’t say anything, because there was nothing really to say. Instead, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt. She’d never again complain about the heat back in Timbuktu—if she were ever able to return. It had to be at least twenty degrees hotter out here.

  “What was your brother doing in Mali?” Bret asked, breaking the silence between them.

  “He told me he just wanted to come for a visit, though now I’m not so sure.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees, hating feeling so vulnerable and defenseless. “What about you? You mentioned your wife.”

  “Becca and I’ve been married twenty-one years, and have a seventeen-year-old son, Noah.” He twisted the gold ring on his left hand. “I was hoping to return with my son next year, but now…”

  “Why here?” she asked, realizing what a welcome distraction the conversation was.

  “My brother-in-law’s a pilot with West African Mission Aviation. They provide medical care and disaster relief. He’s the one who connected me to the group I ended up joining.”

  “I met one of their pilots once.” Lexi fiddled with the hem of her pale blue T-shirt while watching the tent flap flutter in the hot breeze. “His name was Colton.”

  “Colton… That’s my brother-in-law.”

  “Really?” She looked up and caught Bret’s gaze. “Wow. It’s a small world, isn’t it? Think he’s working on a plan to rescue you?”

  Bret let out a low laugh. “I’ll be honest—the thought has crossed my mind more than once. It wouldn’t be easy, but Colton’s former military and was involved in another rescue a few months back off the coast of Guinea-Bissau. If anyone could pull it off, he could.”

  She wanted to believe a rescue was possible. From the brief conversation she’d had with Colton at a local restaurant in Timbuktu a couple months ago, she’d been impressed with the handsome pilot. She’d learned that he did most of his flying for missionaries and aid organizations farther to the west.

  “What about you?” Bret asked, taking a sip of the water. “What brought you to Mali?”

  “I’ve been working on sustainable water sources the past nine months. As you probably know, both distribution networks and access to water are a huge concern.”

  Most nights she was asleep not long after the sun sank below the horizon, exhausted from a long day of dealing with red tape and language barriers. She was over five thousand miles away from her hometown in Southern California—and even further, culturally—but she loved the feeling of accomplishment her work brought. And the feeling that she was doing her part to make the world a better place.

  “Lexi…” Bret placed his hand on her shoulder. Amar was walking back toward where they were sitting in the sand, his automatic slung over his shoulder, and a deep frown across his face. “We will find a way out of this. Alive. I promise.”

  A wave of nausea washed over her. She wanted him to be right, but she also knew that wasn’t a promise he could keep.

  *

  Colton Landry felt the muscles in his shoulders tense as he went through his prelanding checklist and began his descent toward the isolated airstrip. He glanced out the window of the six-passenger Cessna at the endless terrain below, needing to calm his nerves.

  From the first time he’d flown as a sixteen-year-old, he’d discovered there was nothing more exhilarating than catching a bird’s-eye view of the earth’s surface in a small plane. But today as he flew above the legendary Sahara Desert of North Africa, the view did little to take away the stress knotted in his stomach.

  Had it already been almost two months since his brother-in-law had vanished? The phone call to his sister had left them both reeling.

  If you don’t come up with two million dollars in cash, we will kill him.

  He’d read the news articles of the booming business. Kidnapping hostages had proven to be easy money and common across North Africa. And the captors seemingly had both the patience and time to get what they wanted. He knew if he ever planned to see his brother-in-law alive again, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

  Which was why, when a representative from the Malian army had come to him with a plan, he’d jumped at the chance to make it happen.

  They told him they were dealing with a small rogue band of work-for-hire bearded fighters. All Colton had to do was fly in with his two suitcases filled with counterfeit money. Once the exchange was made, they’d provide the needed firepower and get the credit for taking down the group of insurgents that had been plaguing their northern border.

  It was a win-win situation for everyone.

  It was also a risk. But the military had taught him all about taking dangerous chances. And this was one chance he was willing to take. He’d heard his sister’s frantic voice on the phone and seen the video of Bret along with the militants’ well-rehearsed demands. It might not be his brother-in-law’s best way out, but at the moment, it was their only option.

  Minutes later, Colton landed on the airstrip, a hundred miles from the nearest town. The promised Jeep was waiting for him next to the landing strip along with the driver, who introduced himself as Joseph.

  “You’re late,” the other man said, grabbing one of the suitcases Colton had brought with him off the plane.

  “How far to the exchange?” he asked, ignoring the other man’s comment.

  “Fifteen minutes tops.”

  He threw his suitcase into the back of the 4x4, sent up another prayer for protection for his brother-in-law, then slipped into the front passenger seat.

  Joseph started the engine and headed north along the sand-covered rolling plains with a few rugged hills in the distance. “So you are from the United States.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have a brother in Chicago. He moved there over a decade ago. I always planned to visit, but for some reason never made it.”

  The man’s English was decent, but Colton wasn’t in the mood
for chitchat. All he wanted was to get to the meeting place, make the exchange and get his brother-in-law out of here.

  “Is our backup ready?” Colton asked.

  “Don’t worry. They will be there.”

  “It’s kind of hard not to worry.” He gripped the armrest as the Jeep flew over a ridge of sand. “My brother-in-law’s life is on the line.”

  “You’re clear on the plan?” Joseph asked.

  “Once we get to the rendezvous spot, I’ll hand them the suitcases, take my brother-in-law and then let the army clean up the mess while we hightail it back to the plane.”

  He spoke like this was a routine part of his job; one he’d done a dozen times before. But just because he followed the rules didn’t mean the kidnappers were planning to follow them, as well. He wasn’t naive enough to ignore the possibility that this could end very, very badly.

  Because this entire situation was far from routine. He’d spent hundreds of hours shuttling people to remote places like where they were right now. Allowing people to do water and medical projects and other types of development. A plane was the most effective means of reaching an out-of-the-way village when the alternative was driving hundreds of miles over rough terrain. But this—the outcome of this mission—was completely out of his control.

  “You sound like you’ve done this before,” Joseph said.

  “Hardly. But I don’t have a choice. They’re going to kill my brother-in-law if I don’t do something.”

  There were also political ramifications to consider. He knew terrorist groups took in millions of dollars from kidnappings. Money was funneled through proxy networks, often disguised as foreign aid. He didn’t like playing a part in that scheme. But what else was he supposed to do?

  Twenty-five minutes later, Colton saw a cluster of tent flaps blowing beneath the next ridge. If all went according to plan, in another five minutes he’d be making his way back to the plane with Bret. Then he and his brother would be flying toward Morocco and freedom.