“Not necessarily.” He grimaced. “From the way he attacked you, I’d bet you’ll be first on his list now that I managed to make sure Lakewood gave you credit with the CIA and media.” He shrugged. “There are always ways and means. First, I’ll have to think of a way to make it work with those villagers. Gilroy said he might need me to come and influence council members and anyone else who could be tempted to tattle to Masenak and save their necks. The bastard seems to have done a good job of terrorizing those villagers since he started bringing them to Jubaldar as servants. I think I might need to snag that helicopter that’s bringing Margaret tomorrow to take me to Samlir.”

Her fists clenched at her sides. “Because even primitive Berbers, who live on mountaintops at the back of beyond, can be influenced when the great Korgan pays them a visit?” Her panic was growing with every minute. She could see she wasn’t going to convince him, and it was beginning to terrify her. “Why don’t you admit you were just frustrated that you had to be practical and cerebral and didn’t get to play war games like Gilroy and the rest of us? Gilroy has been saying that about you since he showed up at base camp. Well, it wasn’t a game to me.”

“Nor to me,” he said quietly. “Not this time. But this could be a break, and I’m going to work with it. You should try to work with it, too.” He paused. “Why are you so angry?”

She didn’t know, but she was beginning to suspect. She couldn’t let him see beyond that emotion that wasn’t really anger. “Because you’re an idiot and all you can see is that you have to be in control. Even if Masenak kills you.” She added jerkily, “So much for you doing whatever I want. Well, you’ve done your part in finding Jubaldar. It’s not as if I can’t take it from here if I need to. By all means, go and have your talk with those Berbers.”

“I will.” He muttered a curse. “Because it’s the intelligent thing to do, and I don’t know why you won’t admit it.” He turned away. “All I’ve said is that I’m going to look the situation over and you’re putting up all kinds of barbed-wire defenses and threatening to go ballistic.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Not much. Look, we’re closer to Sasha than we’ve ever been, and that might be why you’re so emotional and—” He stopped and suddenly looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “But that’s not like you, either.”