Testing Lysander by L.M. Somerton

Author:L.M. Somerton [Somerton, L.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2015-06-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Within a few yards of the cave entrance Brock froze. He could hear men’s voices somewhere close by but was disoriented and had to concentrate to work out which direction the sound came from. The last thing he wanted to do was to blunder into someone because of carelessness, so he kept still and listened. He wasn’t good at being still. That was why he preferred landscape rather than wildlife photography. Mountains didn’t run away in a panic if you moved an eyelash. With his life at stake, he found a new level of patience. He was grateful for the concealing vegetation as he dropped to his knees and crawled forward, inch by inch. Even the varied insect life that chose to wander across his hands didn’t distract him.

As the sounds grew louder, Brock lowered himself to his stomach and slid as quietly as he could along the muddy ground. To his astonishment, when the voices became clearer, he could hear that the men were speaking English, not Spanish. Not only that, they had American accents. Curiosity made him reckless and he edged a little farther forward. He almost gave himself away when he stuck his head between two bushes and found his nose inches from a pair of muddy combat boots. He held his breath, only letting it out when the boots moved away. Fuck, that was close. His view was severely restricted but Brock saw that he was on the edge of a deeply rutted dirt track. This must be the road Kyle mentioned—the only one in and out of the area. Down the track in one direction Brock observed several vehicles parked to the side. One appeared to be some kind of armored personnel carrier and there were a couple of open jeeps. In the other direction stood the two men he could hear talking. Dressed in camouflage gear, they could easily have passed for regular soldiers, except they wore no insignia that Brock could identify and both had baseball caps on their heads. Light machine guns were slung casually over their shoulders.

Hardly daring to breathe, Brock slid deeper into the undergrowth and checked his camera one more time, making sure the lens cover was open. His hands shook a little as he adjusted the settings for the shade and forced himself to calm down. He clenched and released his fingers a few times and they became steadier. He smeared mud onto his face and into his hair in an attempt to become less visible. His blond locks in particular were not an asset when it came to stealth and concealment, especially in a country where blond was not the norm. He crept back to the trackside position and for the next half an hour or so he took shots of men and guns, vehicles carrying heavy weapons and lorries loaded with equipment. The track was well used and clearly the main thoroughfare to and from the camp. There was plenty of movement for him to capture.

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