Havoc - v4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

have made a face, because children suddenly started laughing.
    Cali watched as the white driver raked rain from his hair and flicked drops at the children, eliciting more shrieks of delight. She hadn’t heard a child laugh since she’d arrived in the country. Judging by the bundles of possessions being handed down from the truck, these people had just fled their homes and somehow this man could make their children laugh. She guessed he was an aid worker and they had known him for some time.
    Which meant he knew the situation up country.
    She looked behind her. The trucker would be at his meal for a while. She stepped back into the rain and approached the stranger. He paid her no attention as he helped people out of the truck, handing infants to waiting mothers and steadying the arms of old men, affording them dignity while making sure they didn’t fall. He was maybe an inch taller than Cali and with his T-shirt stuck to his chest she saw he had a powerful build. Not the grotesque muscles of a weight lifter, but the lean physique of someone who worked hard for a living.
    He must have finally felt her presence because he turned. Cali startled. It was the eyes, she realized instantly. The man was handsome, yes, but his eyes, a shade of gray like storm clouds, were riveting. She’d never known such a color existed or could have imagined they would be so attractive.
    “Hi,” he said, an amused lift at the corner of his mouth.
    “Hi,” Cali replied before gathering herself. “You just came from the north.”
    “That’s right,” he said. “Found these people wandering out of the jungle about twenty miles from here. Thought I’d give them a lift.”
    “You’re not an aid worker?”
    A lanky farmer passed a caged chicken down to the man. He handed it to Cali, making her part of the human chain unloading the truck. “No. I’m a geologist.” He held out a hand. “Mercer. My name is Philip Mercer.”
    His occupation took her by surprise as she absently took his hand. For the second time in just a few moments, Cali startled. Even wet, his palm was as rough as tree bark, callused so that the skin picked against her own. She felt strength in that fleeting touch, but also something more. Assurance, confidence, kindness, an utter lack of guile—she wasn’t sure which, or maybe all of them. He held her gaze as he let her fingers drop.
    “And you are?”
    “Huh? Oh, I’m Cali Stowe. I’m with the CDC. The Centers for Disease Control. In Atlanta. I’m a field researcher.”
    “Believe it or not, disease is the last thing these people need to worry about right now.” He was American but had a trace of an accent that Cali couldn’t quite place.
    “So I’ve noticed,” she said. “Mind me asking what you’re doing here?”
    Mercer slid a large iron cauldron from the truck and set it on the ground. “Prospecting.”
    She laughed. “I always picture prospectors wearing union suits with picks over their shoulders and dragging a stubborn mule on a short rein.”
    “Only ass here is me. I’m here doing a favor for a friend.”
    “My friends ask me to go shopping or help talk through why their current boyfriend is a total creep. You really have to learn to set boundaries.”
    It was Mercer’s turn to laugh. “Point taken.”
    “What were you prospecting for?”
    “Coltan, colombite-tantalite,” Mercer replied. Cali looked disinterested but he added, “It’s used in the capacitors for small electronics. Especially cell phones.”
    “Don’t take this the wrong way but I hope you didn’t find any. There are already too many of those damned things in the world.”
    “Amen,” Mercer agreed. “And no I didn’t. This was a UN-sponsored expedition. Some functionary from their economic development office in Bangui heard about a hunter who claimed he found coltan on the Chinko River. More than likely he’d smuggled it from Uganda or the Congo, but the UN guy saw it as an opportunity to create jobs in the