by Zoe Dawson
She nodded.
“I’ve found us a way out of here,” Rock whispered, and they all nodded.
Pulling the door open, he waved them through, and they stayed in the shadows on the back side of the jailhouse. The walls were still warm from the heat of the sun.
“Can you run?” he asked.
“Hell, yes.” She gave Rock a cheeky grin. “But don’t ask for any push-ups—one-armed or otherwise,” she said, so strongly Rock chuckled softly.
“We should go by twos,” Rock said. “I’ll take you one by one. Opal, you’re first. On my mark.” Rock watched and waited, and the minute the guards were facing the other way, growled, “Now.”
They started across the yard, and as soon as they hit the fence at the perimeter of the compound, Opal crouched down to minimize the chances of being seen by guards. Rock moved unseen across the expanse, and then took José across. But before he could come back for her, from behind the ammunition dump, Ammon Set stepped out into the open and they all froze. He had a pistol trained on Neve.
“I know where you came from, José. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t suspect you’d betray me? The resemblance is uncanny.”
“Let us go,” Opal said. “You have no right—”
“This is my domain, little girl,” he scoffed. “I don’t need the right.”
He pointed the pistol and fired at José at the same time as Rock brought up his weapon and squeezed off a shot. The ammunition dump exploded with a booming blast that threw them all to the ground.
She saw José grappling with Set, punches flying. Then Opal threw herself into the fray as Rock barreled toward them. There was another explosion, and all of them were separated, knocked to the ground. Neve’s eyes were on Rock’s unmoving body.
Neve cried out and rolled to her feet, running for Rock, but Set caught her ankle and sent her sprawling.
José shook Rock and helped him up as Ammon grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back to her feet.
Neve’s and Rock’s eyes met and for a frozen moment in time, something aching and desperate passed between them. She saw the truth in his eyes, a terrified, anguished sight that she would never forget, a revelation that she would take to her grave.
He loved her.
He had always loved her.
Another explosion threw them back, and when Neve pushed up to her elbow, Russell, her Rock, her warrior, was illuminated by the fire’s glow. “Go,” she screamed at him. “Please, go!” He turned toward the teenagers and freedom, then turned back to her. His face contorted, anguish so deep, so clear that it reached out and grabbed her by the throat. She watched him disappear from sight, her vision blurred, so many emotions breaking loose inside her that she couldn’t distinguish one from another. She stared at the spot where he had been, feeling as if her insides might disintegrate.
Set was rigid with rage as he violently slapped her and kicked her in the ribs. She folded in on herself until one of his blows connected with her head.
Darkness, suffocating and black, swallowed her up whole.
Chapter Seventeen
Rock tore down the path he’d made earlier in the day as they crashed through the jungle, feeling raw, unable to control the emotions breaking free and squeezing his heart, his lungs, as helpless rage washed through him.
He had to leave her behind! Son of a bitch!
“Stay alive, babe. Stay alive,” he chanted as he came to the end of the path and a sheer drop-off. There was nothing below them but a black nothingness.
“Are you out of your mind?” José said.
José and Opal, their faces showing the same kind of anguish at having to leave Neve behind, looked down, then back at him.
The shouts of men chasing after them heavy on the wind. Rock shook his head.
“Jump. It’s our only way out of here. I trusted you, Opal. Now you’re going to have to trust me.”
Gunshots exploded in the night, causing a din of howling monkeys and squawking birds, a mass of winged bodies taking flight into the dark sky. Bullets made the same sound as rain did as they smacked into leaves around them, making a whizzing noise as armed bodies broke out of the trees.
Without another word, Opal turned and flung herself off the cliff into the darkness. “Madre de Dios, ayúdenos,” José whispered, making the sign of the cross. Then he jumped.
Rock followed shortly afterward, leaping into a darkness as deep as the one covering his soul.
Stay alive, babe. I’m coming back for you.
He plunged, his body weightless as the wind tore at his hair, whipping his clothes tight to his body, his stomach falling away. It was like riding a bike, as Rock had performed plenty of such low altitude, low opening jumps. Also referred to as LALO, these jumps gave troops the advantage of being quickly dropped into an area, but because of the low altitude they were one of the more dangerous jumps to execute. Normally there was a line that automatically pulled the rip cord when the plane was over the jump area.
And that usually meant the jumper was wearing and getting the benefit of a parachute, not jumping blind into the air and hoping for the best.
Minutes later he hit the water, and then he was fighting, clawing for the surface. “Opal? José?”
“Here,” they said in unison, and they all started swimming for the shore of the wide lake. They pulled themselves onto dry land, and Rock lay there for a moment absorbing his loss, berating himself for not planning better, for his failure in making sure Neve was safe.
I’m sorry, Tristan, he thought, the anguish even deeper when he thought about how his best friend would react if he wasn’t able to get back in time. There was only one course of action, one that would take time. But he had no choice now. He pulled the two of them close and started issuing orders.
Opal rose and with a quick hug to her brother, she took off. José watched his sister disappear into the jungle, then he gave Rock one last supportive look and went in the opposite direction.
They all had a role to play. Because there was something he was damn sure about. He wasn’t leaving that compound without Neve.
And if Set had harmed her…he was taking the man out, no matter the risk.
Neve woke up back in the cell, and she wanted to cry; she had been so close to freedom. This time there was a guard outside her cell and, she figured, one outside the door.
She allowed herself a few tears, then surreptitiously wiped her face with the heel of her hand. Then she swallowed hard, struggling to achieve a degree of self-control.
Neve had been fighting the good fight and thought she had won until she remembered Rock’s face, the wrenching feeling of loss when he’d looked away, the look on his face when he’d turned back. Unable to see through the blur of tears, unable to remain quiet, she wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth, her shoulders shaking.
The night wore on. Finally her sorrow eased, and she fell asleep, dreading the morning. She could only be thankful that Set no longer held any prisoners to use as leverage against her.
She would never give up any information about her family.
She was going to die here.
In the early light of dawn, she woke at the sound of running feet and gunfire. A lot of gunfire. The guard outside her cell went to the window and looked out. Whatever he saw unnerved him because he whirled, looked at her and raised his rifle, pointing it directly at her.
Neve backpedaled into the corner of the cell as he brought up the rifle. She had nowhere to go as the barrel came up, so she closed her eyes and heard the sound of breaking glass just as the gun went off. The bullet thunked into the wall just to the left of her.
She opened her eyes to find him lying dead on the ground. At first, she was confused. But then realization dawned.
The sniper.
Tristan?
There was no sound, except those of glass shattering and a bullet hitting the cell door. The door slid open silently, the vegetable oil from last night greasing its hinges.
&n
bsp; Neve rose and used the cell bars as support to make it to the door. Her ribs were throbbing, and there were so many places on her body that ached that she lost count. Once she started moving, her limbs loosened up. Bending, she retrieved the rifle the guard had dropped. Looking out the window, she made out the uniforms of the government troops.
A smile broke out on her face from the sight of the cavalry coming to her rescue. She recognized Alejandro among the camouflaged green and tan uniforms. She hobbled toward the door, still dismayed by how many of Set’s thugs were between her and safety.
She stayed close to the wall, deciding the best course of action was to go out the way Rock had. As soon as she got to the back side of the prison, she went to dash across to the wall, but an arm snaked out and grabbed the back of her shirt, knocked the rifle out of her hand and put a gun to her temple.
“We have a score to settle,” Set spat as he used her as a shield and headed toward a jeep parked in the back of the compound.
The tide of the battle turned as more of Alejandro’s government troops fired on his forces. Set dragged her kicking and screaming away from freedom and toward sure death.
He pressed the gun hard to her temple and hissed in her ear, “Stop fighting me or it’s over here.”
He turned to head toward the jeep and Rock stood there, blocking their path.
“It is over, Set.”
“For you,” he said, as he raised the gun and pointed it at Rock.
In the distance, Derrick Gunn took a breath in and held it, then breathed out; he sighted his target and slowly pulled the trigger. The Emberá boy lay on the ground next to him. The rifle recoiled into Derrick’s shoulder, making very little sound as the suppressor muffled the noise of the bullet leaving the barrel.
Derrick smiled and said, “We’re done, kid.” He heard the sound of his ride in the distance. His job was done here, and freaking A, it was well done.
He grabbed up his pack and helped the boy up. “Get going.”
There had been no gunshot, no sound, but blood blossomed at his forehead and he’d gone limp as he’d tumbled to the ground. For a moment, Neve looked down at the man who would have destroyed her world, blood pooling beneath his head.
She looked off into the distance, put her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to the sniper.
Then she ran for Rock’s arms. Collapsing against him, she held on to him as she heard the sound of a high-powered stealth chopper, watched as it landed and a man ran for the vehicle, the blades ripping at his hair, a rifle in his grip. He stopped and saluted them both before he got in.
The Black Hawk took off and was soon lost in the distance.
That wasn’t her brother. Who was it?
Then another chopper’s rotors beat the air as the powerful machine landed in the compound. José ran for the slight girl who climbed out, and they embraced. With Rock’s arm firmly around her, Neve limped toward them. They enfolded her in a hug as all four of them got inside the vehicle and it took off.
Neve was flown to Panama City and admitted into the Army hospital there. She was told by her doctor that her wound was mostly soft tissue damage, but she had to get a couple of stitches in a gash at her temple and had her face cleaned and bandaged. They wanted to run tests on her, so she was forced to remain there.
After an hour of being prodded and poked, she got a meal delivered to her and slowly ate it. When the door opened, she’d expected to see someone arriving to take her tray away, but instead it was Rock. He had showered and changed into a pair of dress slacks and a light blue, short-sleeved shirt, the cotton molding over his powerful chest and broad shoulders, the bandage from his flesh wound on his upper arm just barely visible.
He was carrying a bouquet of flowers. She didn’t know why, but she felt overcome, breathless, and her throat was already tight.
He smiled at her; she closed her eyes and burst into tears.
The sound of quick footsteps and then his warm, strong arms going around her was all the medicine she needed.
His throat tight and his eyes burning, Rock held her head against him, his jaw clenched.
As if unloading some terrible stored-up pain, Neve finally cried herself out, and she turned her head against his shoulder. She pressed her hand against his shirt and whispered, “I got your shirt all wet.” He couldn’t resist the urge to hug her, so he gave her a reassuring squeeze. His own voice was low and rough when he answered.
“Aw, babe, it’s over. You’re safe.”
“José and Opal?”
“Safe and sound.” He’d sent Opal to SENAFRONT for Alejandro’s help and José to find the sniper, banking on the fact that his shadow was still alive and ready for action. “You’re all safe.” Loosening his hold, he swallowed hard and braced himself for her to pull away. But Neve never did what he expected. Instead, she nearly knocked the foundation right out from under him when she slipped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder and stayed right where she was. She released a long sigh, as if expelling the last of her tears. With her warm and soft against him, Rock locked his jaw and made himself take a deep, slow breath, the heat from her body making his blood thicken. Ah, but it felt so good to hold her—so damned good. Imperceptibly he tightened his hold, committing every single sensation to memory. Sensations to call up and remember after he was gone.
The room was quiet except for her soft gasps. Neve finally stirred. Releasing a long sigh, she flattened her hand against his back and shifted her head. And just as imperceptibly, she tightened her hold. “You saved my life so many times,” she whispered unevenly. “Thank you for being such a stubborn Marine and ignoring everything I said.”
Her honesty made his heart roll over and his chest clog up. Feeling as if he might turn inside out at any minute, Rock closed his eyes and rubbed her back. His throat was so tight. He couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. He had never expected this to happen, this precious love he had for her. And he had never let himself even think about it because it had always been so far out of reach. It still was. Aware of every curve and hollow of her body, he continued to hold her, wishing this moment could last forever. After a long silence, Neve sighed and pulled away, then looked up at him, her face still puffy from crying, so bruised and battered. He wished he could resurrect Set and kill the bastard all over again.
With so much gratitude in her eyes that it nearly broke his heart, she met his gaze. “Thank you for everything, Rock,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then his mouth.
He stepped back as she reached out and clasped his hand. He paused and smiled. “You take good care of yourself, babe. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
She nodded as their fingers held on for a few more fleeting moments. He turned and left the room, his heart shattering and his footsteps reluctant. But as he walked away from her room and the sad, resigned look on her face, he was sure he made the best decision for both of them.
They wanted different things, and neither one of them could compromise and be happy. Didn’t stop him from feeling as if someone had just dropped a boulder on his chest. Inside the elevator, he tipped his head back and swallowed hard. He knew he would relive that interlude thousands of times in his mind. If he survived to be a hundred, he would never forget it. His jaw locked as the doors opened and he exited the elevator, walked through the lobby to the street. He raised his hand and hailed a cab, recognizing the handsome devil who got out of a tricked-out jeep behind him. Marco. At least she’d have a friend with her now that he was leaving.
He got inside the cab and said, “Airport,” wondering how in hell he was going to make it through the next couple of hours, let alone the rest of his life.
Back in San Diego, Derrick went to work the next day and as he got out of his car, he saw Amber walking toward the NCIS building. She stopped when she saw him. He closed his car door and ambled over. She stood there for a minute just looking up at him, tak
ing in the bruises on his face from the life-and-death battle with one of Set’s men. His shoulder was still a bit sore, but the gunrunner’s flunky had cushioned his fall.
“Derrick,” she whispered, then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard. “Thank you.”
He nodded. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for the people he cared about, and after working with Amber for a year now, she definitely fit into that category.
“You’re welcome,” he said, aware that taking out some gunrunner barely caused him one moment’s lack of sleep. It was the innocents, the ones who didn’t deserve to die, who haunted him. And along with the blood of his enemies, there was more than enough blood of the innocents on his hands.
Inside the NCIS office, he saw Austin at his desk. He rose when he saw Derrick and offered his hand. Derrick clasped it and for just a moment, Austin tightened his grip, then let go.
Amber smiled at them.
Then their boss, Kai Talbot, walked in, and Derrick faced her. She’d known what was going on, and she’d sent that Black Hawk for him. He wasn’t sure how she found out, but at this point it didn’t matter. They were a team. She stopped in front of him and reached out and clasped his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze.
“What are you three doing standing around? We have a dead sailor in Oceanside. Grab your stuff.”
She winked at him as they all headed for the elevator.
Chapter Eighteen
Six months later
Neve stood on the balcony of her sister Nova’s rental on the coast of Oregon, about fifteen minutes from US Coast Guard Air Station Astoria. Soon after returning from the Darién and after getting cleared for duty, Neve had been offered a temporary assignment at the air station. Raw from her experience with Rock and unable to handle being in close proximity to him, she’d jumped at the chance to get out of San Diego.
