Chapter XX

Near the Panama border

Anna felt him squeeze her arm, waking her.

"We're here," Robert told her, whispering into her ear. He was close enough for her to feel the stubble of his beard.

True enough, the truck had stopped moving and had finally, thankfully, come to a complete stop.

When Anna opened her eyes she couldn't see a thing. Everything was black.

"Robert…" she gasped, jarred fully awake as she pushed herself off the truck's floor onto her knees. "I can't see!"

Again she felt his hand on her arm.

"It's alright…it's night, Anna," his voice calmly told her. "There's no light in here."

"Night?" She didn't understand. "How long was I out for?"

A loud, whooshing sound interrupted Robert's answer. The driver was lifting the truck's canvas covering, allowing them to get out. Robert turned on a flashlight and motioned for her to jump out of the truck.

Anna moved awkwardly, her legs weak and rubbery. She tumbled out of the truck with the grace of a drunk, her body shivering in response to the change in temperature.

The grass she stepped on nearly came to her knees and when Anna took a look around she noticed they were surrounded by endless, densely forested, hills. They stood on a clearing, atop an ocean of undulating trees, uniformly blackened in the darkness of the night.

The sound of crickets reverberated through the night air, punctured only by the occasional howl of something else. Deeper, louder noises, that belonged to animals that were equally nocturnal, yet undoubtedly larger.

'Where do we go from here?' Anna wondered. There was nothing as far as the eye could see. Nothing but trees and hills and impenetrable darkness. There was no sign of light or human life anywhere in her line of vision. Were it not for the moonlight, she wouldn't have been able to distinguish where the roof of the trees ended and the night sky began.

Surely the truck driver wasn't dumping them here, in the middle of nowhere?

Anna shivered at the thought of walking into the darkness ahead of them. Terrified of what they might encounter.

She heard Robert talking to the driver. Saw the man handing Robert two large bundles, before stepping back into the truck.

Robert took the bundles and threw them onto the ground, unflinching when the driver turned the engine on and reversed the vehicle away from them.

"Hey!" Anna protested, glaring at Robert, making a half-hearted effort to follow the truck. "He can't just leave us here!"

Robert sank to the ground, next to the bundles left behind. "What's he gonna do? Drive us through the jungle? He already took us farther than I thought he could."

A mosquito whirred in her ear, biting its lobe before she had a chance to swat it with her hand.

"Here," Robert told her, handing her a black baton. "Take a flashlight. We'll need to see to set up the tent."

"We're going to set up camp? Here?" Another mosquito landed on her face, making her slap herself. "Great…I don't even like the outdoors. "

It was when she turned on her flashlight and shone it at Robert's face that she realized how awful he looked.

"Jesus Christ…sit down, Robert. I'll do it." His face was white as a sheet.

"Right…" he mumbled, not obliging her. "You're going to set up a tent? I thought you just said you don't even like the outdoors…"

"I'll figure it out…" she told him, panic rising at the base of her throat. Who were they kidding? He was never going to make it to the border in his condition. He could barely stand, never mind walk over jungle covered mountains. Anna knelt down and stared at the bundled bags, forcing her mind to focus on something else.

Forcing her mind away from thoughts of Robert's imminent demise.

'You're not going to die on me again,' she thought. 'If I have to carry you out of here, I'll find a way…"

Robert moved next to her, helping her pry open the bag.

"I said I'll do it, damn it!" Anna turned to him. Angry and frightened at once at the sight of him.

"For crying out loud," Robert's pale face looked at her in tired disbelief. "I'm not an invalid."

"You've been shot! You're hurt!" she shot back. "And if you don't sit down right now, I'm going to take your gun and make you. Do we understand each other?"

He raised his hands in exasperation, and sank onto the grassy ground.

The fact that he didn't protest further only served to worry her even more.

Anna lost track of how often she fumbled and dropped pieces of what was to be their shelter. Or just how long it took to light the paltry fire that now burned on the ground.

When she was finally done she marvelled that there was something tent-like that actually stood erect and allowed them to slip inside.

She sank down next to Robert, exhausted and oblivious to the mosquito bites that dotted her exposed skin, like jumbled polka dots increasing in size as they swelled.

"Nice job. It might just hold until morning," Robert mumbled.

"Remind me to ask whoever shoots at you next to aim for your vocal chords."

Robert chuckled.

Anna rolled on to her stomach, pushing herself up to face him. She was starving but far too tired to contemplate opening any of the cans she spotted in the bags, much less warming their contents over the fire. Food would have to wait until morning.

"How are you?" she asked. Her voice let him know she was serious now, while her hand instinctively moved to the bandage on his shoulder. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"I feel like I've been travelling in an overheated truck all day."

"Are you going to be able to walk up these hills, carrying these bags tomorrow?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "All we can do is try."

"You should eat something…"

"No," Robert shook his head. "Too tired."

Anna felt almost guilty that she was relieved at not having to cook.

Flames from the fire flickered, lighting up his face and illuminating it in the darkness. The stubble on his chin was thickening, threatening to grow into a full beard soon. It hid both the whiteness of his skin and the scar that ran across his jaw line.

Anna turned around, sinking onto the bare ground. "I can barely see your scar now…"

"Good."

"How…" she started. "Do you know how you got it?"

Robert shook his head, stifling a yawn. "I've had it as long as I can remember."

"So it's from the explosion," Anna deducted. If that's how far his memory went, what else could it be?

A pair of tired eyes were suddenly alert again. "Will you tell me what happened that day? Why were we both on a boat that exploded?"

"You should sleep…"

"Tell me, Anna. I want to know."

"I told you…"

"All you told me was that I came to get you." Fatigue lifted from his face as he pressed her for more, "Tell me…why was I there? Why were you there? And why did the boat explode?"

"I was kidnapped," she explained. "By a man who was determined to break us up. I don't know how you found me, only that you did and when you did, it was too late."

"So this man decided to blow up the whole boat when he realized he couldn't have you?"

The questions were coming out of nowhere, without warning and Anna didn't have the energy for them. "Look…" She protested. "I don't know why the tanker exploded. There's so much about that day that I can't remember myself…"

"What do you mean?"

"After the explosion, I had amnesia," she told him. "Like you."

Robert stared at her in disbelief. "You had amnesia?"

Anna nodded.

"You didn't tell me."

"It doesn't matter now. My memory came back."

"So your amnesia didn't last long."

"Ten years," she answered softly.

Robert's eyes widened in shock.

"It came back in bits and pieces. Enough to frustrate the hell out of me. But not enough to make sense of what I was remembering."

"But it did come back…" Robert added with a look of hope in his eyes that asked the question he didn't voice aloud. If it came back for you, maybe it will for me too.

"Yeah, it did," she told him. "Over a period of time and with some help from my sister, it did."

"Your sister?"

"She's a neurologist," Anna explained. "If we make it out of here, I want to take you to her. I think she could help you too."

Robert grinned, his smile matching the light of the fire outside. " 'If?' "

Anna shrugged her shoulders, shuddering at the thought of what was slithering through the forest outside the flimsy walls of their tent. "Call me a realist."

"You have no idea how much I want to remember."

"Have you had any memories at all? Flashes? Images?"

"Occasionally there'd be images in my mind that I couldn't explain. Images, for instance, of a young girl, with long dark hair, or images of a building or a street that I'd never seen before…but they were rare, and I wasn't sure whether they were real or imagined. Or even if they were connected to my past. I didn't think I'd ever remember more than that," he admitted, his face serious again. "Until you arrived."

Anna pushed herself off the ground.

"The day you first fell into my arms into the interrogation room, I literally felt as though I was stepping into the past. Holding you in my arms was the first time that something felt…familiar."

Anna's throat constricted along with his words. If holding her held the hope of triggering something familiar she wanted to tell him that she'd gladly oblige again.

You have no idea how much I want to have your arms around me. To have them there because you want them there.

'But you're not ready for that,' she realized, knowing too that he knew exactly what she was thinking. She could almost sense his gratitude for not voicing her thoughts aloud. To ask him to hold her…kiss her…in the hopes that it might trigger a memory was an unfathomable pressure. One she was more than familiar with. And one she wouldn't subject him to. The threat of disappointment was too great. For both of them.

I can't make you feel for me what I still feel for you.

I can't force it.

It has to come from you.

Anna turned her back to him in silence, sensing that her ability to read his expressions was making him uncomfortable.

Sleep came as soon as she closed her eyes. Thankfully, it numbed the knowledge of how much it hurt when she combined the euphoria of Robert being alive with the realization that he might never love her again.

Medellin, Colombia

Outside Police headquarters

"Why are we leaving the station?" Mac demanded as the three of them crossed the busy city street. Valencia led the way, taking them towards a church with wide-open wooden doors.

She didn't answer his question.

Mac debated whether the noise of the traffic meant she hadn't heard him, or whether she did and was purposely ignoring him.

She gave him a backwards glance as she led them up the church steps.

'Of course you heard me,' Mac realized with a frown.

Valencia motioned them towards the back, into a pew that was several rows from the nearest worshipper. Only a handful of people, mostly women and mostly old, nearly all of them dressed in black, were scattered throughout the pews. Some were silent, while others murmured prayers in Spanish on their knees.

"Why are we here?" Mac repeated, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"What is your connection to Roberto Sandoval?" Valencia asked him. Her features had softened in the dim lighting of the church, reminding him how attractive she was when her face wasn't lined with irritation.

Although she had addressed the question to him, it was Robin she was staring at, as though searching for something in the young woman's face.

"What do you mean?"

"What is your connection to Roberto Sandoval?" Valencia repeated. "I know English is not my first language, but I think I have asked a very simple question."

"Why are you asking me this?" Mac bristled.

"Why are you not answering?"

"If we do have some sort of connection to him, what's it to you?" Robin suddenly asked Valencia. Her voice was low enough so as not to disturb the worshippers in the church.

"I'm a police officer…" Valencia started. "I'm conducting an investigation."

"If that's the case, why did you take us out of the station?"

"Robin…" Mac cautioned her, raising his hand. His niece had a habit of doing that. Of shedding her calm, rational self in the heat of the moment. It was in moments like this one that she painfully reminded him not of his brother but of Anna. Impulsive, exasperating, throw-caution-to-the-wind Anna.

"Are you Roberto's daughter?" Valencia challenged.

To that question Robin didn't have an answer, instead she stared at Valencia Munoz in shock.

Mac's eyebrows lifted in equal shock. The question had come out of left field. "What?"

"Are you Roberto's daughter?" she repeated. Her voice was a whisper, but she asked the question with such clarity she could have beamed it through a microphone.

"How do you…" Robin started, her voice too, hardly louder than a murmur.

"Why would you ask that?" Mac demanded on her behalf.

"It is true then…" Valencia replied, the disbelief written all over her face as she took her focus away from Robin and back to Mac.

"I didn't say anything was true or false," Mac shot back.

"Oh please…stop lying to me!" Valencia replied, banging a frustrated hand against the wooden pew.

"Right. Because you've been so honest."

"Would you please just tell us what you know about my parents?" Robin pleaded. "Do you know where they are? If they're alright?"

"Robin!" Mac yelled, loud enough so that several old ladies' heads raised themselves from prayer and turned in their direction. To say his niece wasn't thinking straight was an understatement. At this rate she would blow her mother's cover within the next few seconds.

"Your parents?" Valencia turned back to Robin. "What do you mean your 'parents'?"

"Do you know where they are?" Robin repeated, oblivious to Mac's glare.

"That's enough, Robin," Mac hissed under his breath. "We have no idea whether we can trust…"

"I think we can trust her," Robin cut him off, facing Valencia Munoz. "Am I wrong?"

"Are you saying that you're not just Roberto's daughter but also…" a touch of colour drained from Valencia's face with the realization. "Oh my god…I should have known just by looking at you. You're also Anna's daughter. You're their daughter."

Mac eyed Valencia with curiosity as she put the pieces together.

"You're Anna's daughter…and Roberto, he doesn't know. He has no idea…"

Mac too was only beginning to make sense of what her words meant. Valencia Munoz knew Anna's real name, and she hadn't disclosed it to the public. That meant only one thing: that she was on Robert's side. She might even have aided in Anna's prison break. Whatever she was doing, she was doing it at considerable risk to her and her career.

No wonder she had escorted them out of the police station once she suspected who Robin was.

"How much do you know about Robert's past?" Mac asked softly.

"You…" Valencia swallowed. "You call him that…just like she does. 'Robert'."

"How much do you know about him?" Mac pressed.

"First tell me who you are." She was regaining her composure.

"I'm his brother."

Mac thought he heard Robin catch her breath, just as his own breathing stopped. It was a crazy, risky thing to tell this woman. It could throw him into chaos and suspicion. Worst of all, it could break both Robert and Anna's cover.

He regretted his words as soon as he said them.

Here he was chiding Robin for her carelessness when in fact he himself had just decided to trust this woman on nothing more than a gut feeling.

"Su hermano?" Valencia mumbled in disbelief, leaning against the pew. "You are his brother?"

Mac nodded. Obviously it was too late for any rescinding of words. "Now tell me what you know about Robert…"

Valencia mumbled something else in Spanish that he couldn't make out. "Why did you come here now…after all of these years? You and Anna and Robin? Now when he is in so much trouble, why not before, in all these years when he wanted so much to try and remember the past?" There was no mistaking the accusation in her voice.

"You're his friend, aren't you?" Robin asked softly.

"We didn't know," Mac explained. "We were told my brother died. Missing after a boat explosion. Robin grew up thinking her father died. The only thing that led us here was a trail that connected us to her mother."

Valencia paused, eyeing them both as she took a deep breath, as if debating one last moment before deciding whether she was going the share with them something she hadn't shared with anyone else. She even took a careful glance around the church, checking to see whether anyone she knew might be around to hear. "For ten years, Roberto Sandoval was my boss. He became my friend. He is also my son's godfather. I didn't believe that he could have done what he did. Unless, he had a reason that no one else understood."

"You've been in contact with him after the prison break, haven't you?" Mac probed.

Valencia's lips tightened.

"You can trust us," Mac assured her. "If I wasn't trying to protect both my brother and Anna, I would have told the police everything I know. I needed to lie about who we are, because we need to find him before they do. Before they find out who he is."

"If the police find them, they will shoot first and ask questions later," Valencia told him.

Mac saw Robin's face pale in the dim light of the church.

Valencia noticed it too and put a gentle hand on his niece's arm. "I'm sorry…I should not have…"

Robin shook her head resolutely, "No. Don't be sorry. I'm not a child. I want you to be honest with me."

"Do you know where they are?" Mac pressed.

"How are they?" Robin asked before she had a chance to answer.

Valencia bit her lip. "Your father was shot by one of our officers when he was escaping from the prison van."

Robin winced. "Is he…?"

"A shoulder wound," Valencia explained. "He went to see a doctor in the Barrio, who helped him take care of it. It's how I found him. There's a young girl there he helps take care of. Not many people know about Alicia. I figured out he would go there if he had nowhere else to go."

"Is he still…?" Mac started.

Valencia shook her head. "No…it was too dangerous for him to stay there."

"How about my Mom?" Robin cut in. "Is she with him? Is she okay?"

Valencia eyed her, as if debating her answer. Mac observed her hesitancy with interest, wondering if it was herself or Robin she was trying to protect.

"Anna was hurt while she was in prison but she is okay now."

Robin's brows narrowed, "Hurt how?"

Valencia didn't answer her, turning to Mac instead.

"Do you where they are now?" Mac asked her.

"No," Valencia answered. "I don't. I know there were some men who are friends with Alicia's family who have helped to try and get them to Panama."

"Panama?" Robin asked.

"Once they're out of Colombia, they have a chance of leaving the continent," Mac explained. The thought of his wounded, fugitive brother trying to get fake ID in a Central American country formed a knot in his stomach. He was suddenly grateful that Anna was with him. If anyone was resourceful enough to get him forged papers and help him slip back into his old identity while on the run, it was Anna. Lord knows she was always better at handling pesky illegalities than Robert was.

If she was physically up for the task, that is.

If not, they'd need help. Desperately.

"Is there…" Mac started, thoughts racing through his head, struggling to come up with a plan. "Is there some way you can find out what route they took?" he asked Valencia.

Valencia's face was puzzled, "It will be hard…the men who helped him won't talk to me. But I can think of what I would do…what route I would take…I can…put some pieces together and maybe figure it out."

"If they're hurt they'll need our help," Mac told her, seeing Robin nod in agreement. Neither Robert nor Anna would have wanted their daughter involved in this, but Mac decided it was too late for that. He'd rather face their wrath for involving her, if that meant they'd be alive to chew him out.

An unexpected smile lifted his lips as he thought of what he'd give right now to be able to have another argument with his bull-headed brother.

'You're alive, Robbie,' he thought allowing himself to savour the truth. 'It's really true. We have a helluva of lot catching up to do. I'll be damned if I don't do whatever it takes to make sure we get around to doing that.'

"Will you help us?" he asked, serious again as he turned to Valencia. "Will you help us find them before the police do?"

Her eyes darkened, serious and amused all at once. "I am the Police."

"Please?" he repeated. "Will you?"

Her answer came quicker than Mac thought it would.

"Yes," she told them. "For Roberto I will."

"Thank you," Mac said, meaning it.

Had he been more alert, he might have spotted the lone man who had entered the church and sat down in one of its last rows. He might even have noticed that the man looked oddly out of place and that it was obvious he was here neither for prayer nor solitude.

That, instead, his entire attention was focused only on the three of them.