"It's similar in design," Kira agreed, brushing past her and flipping a switch.

Beyond the narrow compartment they were confined within was a fluorescent-lit pa.s.sageway with Russian lettering painted onto its two steel doors. It took a moment for Nicole's eyes to adjust to the lighting, but when they did, her heart dropped to her empty stomach.

"Relax," Kira advised as if reading her thoughts. "This bunker was built in the mid-seventies when the Soviets were still our enemies. If anyone discovered this facility, the engineers designed it so that the last country to be blamed for its existence would be the United States. Everything in it, including the ancient mainframes, was programmed in Russian." She walked down the stark corridor punching away at a tiny keypad on the gadget around her wrist, and a locking device hidden within some mechanism inside the doors clicked open loudly. "Reagan allocated most of his defense budget to his Star Wars program, leaving this place forgotten and untouched up until the late nineties when al-Qaeda began attacking U.S. emba.s.sies here in East Africa. From here, we can monitor all radio and cell frequencies as well as access Internet servers that service Somalia, Sudan, Uganda, and most other neighboring countries that harbor terrorists."

"You hack into computers?"

"Not the words I would use. According to all records, this place doesn't exist. If questioned, we're employees of a technology company with offices in California, j.a.pan, and Pakistan."

Kira pushed through the unlocked doors. They were now in a large, round room that reminded Nicole of a hospital. Everything was steel, cement, and gla.s.s with more of the bright, fluorescent lighting overhead.

"Did you say we?"

No sooner had she asked the question than a woman emerged from another doorway. She was at least three inches taller and a decade older than Kira (whom she guessed was in her late twenties), with long black hair and dark, curious eyes.

"Well, looks like you succeeded in collecting your little stray." The tall, ebony-haired woman spoke with an Eastern Bloc accent, her voice low and silvery. "So, this is the little doe they're after?"

The woman's heavy-lidded eyes slowly examined Nicole.

"Easy, Shevchenko. She's way too young."

"Advice you might do well to heed yourself."

"She needs lots of water and a small meal," Kira instructed in a clipped, matter-of-fact monotone, disregarding Nicole as if she wasn't even in the same s.p.a.ce. "Once she washes up and has a moment to reflect on all that's happened and where she is, she'll probably go into shock. If she does, come get me. I'm going to shower."

Nicole stood on rubbery legs as Kira walked out of the room without so much as a backwards glance.

"She's a cool one, eh?" Shevchenko prodded, her eyes watching Nicole's expression closely. "We call her the Ice Princess. Now come with me. I'll take you to your room. It has a hot shower and towels. You'll feel much better when you change your clothes. You two ladies don't smell as pretty as you look."

Nicole didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I don't have any clothes to change into."

"What do you mean, you have no clothes? Come. I show you. And call me Stella."

Nicole followed the statuesque stranger down yet another long, clinical corridor and into a small room simply furnished with a twin cot, a bureau, and a chair.

"All your things are right here, little one." Stella opened a closet to display everything Nicole had packed, hanging neatly from wire hangers.

"This can't be. My duffel bag? And my shoulder bag too?" The familiar beige canvas hung from a hook on the back of the closet door. Kenya was the ident.i.ty theft capital of the world. Surely her belongings had been pilfered and a dozen loans had already been applied for using her good credit. She unzipped it and inside were her wallet, pa.s.sport, driver's license, and notebooks, all untouched, just as they had been before she'd been forced to flee from the motorcyclists.

"But how? That's impossible! I left everything on the bus headed for Nanyuki!"

"No, nothing is impossible when you meet Bogie. He was behind you both the whole way. He grabbed your bags and covered your tracks so no one would be able to find us here."

"Bogie?" Nicole felt what little strength she had left draining from her. "How many of you people are there?"

"There's only three on this mission. You're looking ill. Here, sit down and hydrate while I run the shower. When you're done washing, I'll come back and check on you. You must drink lots more water and eat much fruit tonight. Kira remembered bullets but forgot to bring fluids. She's not as perfect as she thinks."

When she was finally alone, Nicole checked to see if the door had a lock and was grateful to find it did. She nursed the first bottle of water slowly, knowing if she drank too much too quickly she would be sick. Once in the shower, she found a bar of fragrant soap still wrapped in plain white generic paper and unlabeled containers of shampoo and conditioner. Fifteen minutes pa.s.sed while she stood just absorbing the heated sting of the shower before she found the energy to lift a weary arm to scrub the muck from her bruised and sc.r.a.ped skin. Afterward, she brushed her teeth, combed through most of the knots in her tangled hair, and drank another bottle of water before collapsing into an unconscious heap on the edge of the bed with little more than the damp towel she'd used to dry off with as a makeshift blanket.

Chapter Four.

Nicole was cold. Tiny crystals of snow fell from a drab, gray sky in bl.u.s.tery gusts all around her. She knew the street like the back of her hand, having walked the stretch of tree-lined blacktop ever since she was a little girl. Her house stood alone at the road's end. All the neighboring homes had disappeared. The storm was harsh, the winds howling, pushing her back. If she could make it home, she'd be safe.

The faint outline of a woman appeared in the distance ahead, beckoning to her without words, but the furious gales of the blizzard were strong. Stronger than her. Their invisible hands tugged at her from every direction, pushing and pulling.

"Mom?" she called out. "Mom, is that you?"

Suddenly, she was in her childhood bedroom. Warm. Too warm. Her mother's hand gently soothed her heated brow as soft, rea.s.suring words were whispered into her ear. She didn't understand how it could be, but her mother was once again the strong, st.u.r.dy woman she'd been when Nicole had been a child, before her father had been killed.

A blast of frigid air tore through the room. She was lifted up and tossed outside into the storm, those cold winds snapping at her from every direction. Just as quickly, the sky cleared and calmed. She found herself alone in her backyard, standing just feet from the willow tree she and her father had planted for her seventh birthday. Despite the wintry weather, the magnificent tree was in full bloom. She took a hesitant step forward, not sure if what she was seeing was real or an illusion. The elongated leaves growing from the twisted boughs of the drooping sapling concealed the shape of a man.

"Dad!" she shouted.

She ran toward the tree, only her father had disappeared. In his place stood the regal figure of a faceless woman dressed all in white and wearing a brilliant crown made from diamonds and icicles. She claimed to be the Ice Princess and demanded Nicole tell her where her father was hiding the jewels he'd stolen from the king.

"The fever's almost broke, Shevchenko. I told you she'd be okay."

"I know that's what you keep saying, but I see the truth in your eyes. I'll go heat her soup."

Nicole blinked, trying to identify the voices speaking over her. Was she in a hospital? Had she been in a car crash?

"So you've decided to join us back on planet Earth? I was beginning to think you were staying delirious just to avoid me."

Reality flooded back into the foggy corners of Nicole's brain like a raging tsunami crashing onto an unsuspecting sh.o.r.eline.

"I've been sick?" she asked through dry and chapped lips. Bits of hazy flashbacks flickered inside her head-painful reflections of her head throbbing violently and an insatiable thirst she couldn't quench.

"Quite. You've been in and out of it for almost two days."

"Two days?"

Kira was sitting on the very edge of the small bed. She was wearing a form-fitting baby blue sweater and faded Levi's. Her hair was parted on the side and hanging soft and loose around her face. Nicole caught her breath, and it had nothing to do with her poor health.

"I know you had to have all your shots and pills before embarking upon a trip to the Dark Continent-your school required proof before granting you permission to teach here-malaria, typhoid, yellow fever, hepat.i.tis, polio, meningitis, even teta.n.u.s. I checked just to make certain they didn't miss anything."

Nicole grimaced, remembering.

"Ruling all else out, we think you might have picked up a simple virus on one of your overseas flights. Our jaunt through the forest probably helped the bug seize control of your immune system."

"A coup d'etat?"

Kira looked down at her and something like amus.e.m.e.nt lit up her otherwise shadowed eyes. "Here, you need drink this. It was developed in Bangladesh to help treat infants with cholera." She lifted the straw to Nicole's lips. "It replaces electrolytes and helps treat dehydration."

"You don't have to feed her like a baby anymore," Stella reprimanded sternly, striding through the doorway carrying a tray laden with soup and bread. "And what she needs is food, not that nasty gruel you've been spooning down her throat for the past two days."

Nicole had to agree with her. The drink had the consistency of water mixed with baking soda and tasted horrible. But oddly enough, she found she'd be willing to drink a gallon if it meant Kira would stay sitting next to her and continue caring for her. She wasn't ready to a.n.a.lyze that just yet, but when the object of her gaze got up and coolly left the room just as she'd done when they'd first arrived, her insides swelled with disappointment.

Something was happening she wasn't at all looking forward to exploring.

"You work with Kira?"

Stella's full, brick-colored lips stretched across her swarthy cheeks in a wide smile. Something about the woman reminded Nicole of a cat she had while growing up. George had been an extremely clever feline, in many ways far more intelligent than the humans he allowed to feed and keep him.

"Little one, leave all questions for later. Right now, we need to get you healthy. Sit up and eat some of this soup I made. It's my mother's recipe from the country I grow up in, Ukraine." Stella lifted the tray and placed it on Nicole's lap.

"The last thing I remember was stumbling from the shower." She looked down, surprised to see she was dressed in one of the two sets of pajamas she'd packed-a pink cotton top and bottom with imprints of tiny kittens.

"Don't worry," Stella counseled, seeing the downward path of Nicole's eyes. "Kira cared for and bathed you while you were sick. She found you on the floor and stayed at your side the entire time you were in the fever."

Nicole wasn't sure how she felt about that particular revelation.

"You like?" Stella asked, her black eyes alive with eager expectation as she watched Nicole take a sip from the spoon.

"It's delicious," she answered honestly. The broth was tasty and warm.

"It has some rice, beef, egg, and carrot. It'll make you strong again like Popeye when he eats his spinach." Stella curled her arm to make a muscle.

Nicole laughed. She liked Stella Shevchenko. There was something quite charming about the older woman's manner.

"Kira mentioned a satellite phone. My mom hasn't heard from me since I called her collect during my layover in Brussels. She's probably ready to have a meltdown, if she hasn't had one already. I need to talk her, let her know I'm okay. Is there any way I can use that phone?"

"You needn't be troubled," a familiar voice replied. Kira was standing in the doorway, a mug of coffee in one hand. "Your mother believes you arrived in Nanyuki safe and sound. In fact, you've already sent her several e-mails detailing the delights of teaching a small tribe of Embu children the joys of the English alphabet. She seemed greatly pleased you were following in her footsteps. What does she teach?"

"Tenth-grade history," Nicole answered, numb with shock. Although she would never admit it, part of her was greatly relieved. The less her mother knew about what had really happened on a trip she'd repeatedly warned Nicole not to take, the better.

"And the teaching organization is cooperating with us fully, believing your absence from the program is a matter of international security."

"International security?" Nicole scoffed. "That's stretching it, don't you think? At some point, I'll need to provide an honest explanation why I missed orientation and my first few days of volunteering."

Kira shrugged, taking a sip from her mug. "It's the truth. And I'm sorry to tell you that you'll miss more than a day or two of teaching. You'll miss the entire internship." She turned to leave. "Shevchenko, when she's done eating, give her some of your special sleeping medicine so you and I can get back to work."

"What the h.e.l.l? I'm not a lab specimen you can put back in a cage when you don't need me anymore." Nicole bit her lower lip. Kira whirled about, surprised. "And I don't want to sleep. I just woke up after being unconscious for two days."

A knowing look pa.s.sed between Kira and Stella.

"What?" Nicole was losing her patience. "Why won't I be able to teach the kids? Would one of you please enlighten me?"

"In case you've forgotten, we're here to protect you," Kira said coldly. "You might try showing some appreciation."

"Really?" Nicole asked, lifting the tray with its bowl of sloshing soup from her lap and setting it down on the bed with care. "You've been trying very hard to convince me since you forced me from the bus, but something else is going on here."

Kira's blue eyes darkened. "Leave us, Shevchenko."

Stella reached over Nicole to grab the tray. Their eyes met, and a look of sympathy and warning illuminated Stella's smoky gaze. When Stella was gone, Kira closed the door softly behind her.

"And by the way, don't do anything as asinine as locking the door on us again. The locks are ancient and we have no idea where half the keys are. Luckily we had the one that opened your door. If you'd really been hurt, it would've taken a long time to get to you. The doors are made of solid steel."

Nicole clenched her fists under the sheets. She felt like a little kid being scolded for some silly transgression. A wave of heat ignited inside her and spread, slowly working its way up over each body part until all the circuits converged.

"You can't keep giving me the runaround. I think it's about time you tell me what's going on."

"I hardly think you're in much of a position to demand anything," Kira said as she sauntered slowly toward the bed.

A flicker of apprehension coursed through Nicole. She tried to sit up straighter against the bed's small headboard.

"The first thing I'm doing when I get out of here is filing a complaint with whatever organization you work for."

"Do I need to remind you I work for a technology company with offices in California, j.a.pan, and Pakistan?"

"You forgot to mention the hidden underground lair in the foothills of Mount Kenya."

Kira was at the side of the bed now and Nicole felt a cowardly urge to jump from her blankets and run from the room. "You'd never be able to locate this place again in a million years." She smiled.

They were so close to one another, Nicole could see dark circles under her ice-blue eyes. She remembered what Stella had said, about her sitting at her side the entire time she'd been sick.

"What, no smart-a.s.s comeback?" Kira reached down and lightly palmed Nicole's chin, tilting her face toward the glow cast from the metal lighting pendant dangling from the ceiling. Nicole was aware of Kira's thumb slowly traveling toward her mouth, its manicured tip softly grazing the dry, tender flesh of her bottom lip. Her body quivered, her heart now racing wildly inside her chest. A surge of desire rushed forth from some region in her lower abdomen to curl like a serpent around her insides, the sudden need easily injecting its elusive venom into her blood and leaving her paralyzed. Every muscle in her body went limp and her breathing grew shallow.

"We got a problem!" Stella came running back into the room, her eyes filled with terror.

"What is it?" Kira dropped her hands to her sides.

"They've been spotted less than eight kilometers from one of the villages!"

"Who?" Nicole asked.

"I'll go deal with it," Kira said. She turned to Nicole. "Now do you understand why you can't continue with your plans to be a part of the teaching program? We can't take the risk." She strode from the room.

"What's going on, Stella? Are those men that were following my bus now at one of the villages looking for me? What about the children-will they be hurt?"

Stella gulped, her serene manner shaken. "Try to sleep, kid. Your body's still very weak. I'll check on you later."

"Sleep? d.a.m.n it, Stella, you have to tell me what's going on! Please," she pleaded, "are there children in danger?"

As Stella closed the door, Nicole heard her softly reply, "Don't worry. Kira will fix this."

Nicole fell back against the bed and sighed. How could she possibly be expected to just sit here when who knew what was going on out there?

"What do those madmen on the motorcycles want with me and how'd they learn where I'd be?" she wondered out loud, lying back against the pillows. And just how did her father fit into this crazy puzzle?

She lifted a hand to her collarbone where the necklace he'd given her just before he'd left for that fateful trip to Yemen lay in a lazy coil atop her heated skin. It was a simple piece of jewelry, perfect for a little girl. The chain was sterling silver with an oval pendant dangling from its delicate length. On one side, the tiny ornament was engraved with a small willow, an acknowledgement of the tree they'd planted together, and on the other side an inscription that simply read, In My Heart, Love Dad.