by Zoe Dawson
He reached out but she quick-stepped back out of his reach. “Anna—”
“You have no say in this, Oliver.” Her unwillingness to hear what he had to say was obvious in the tense set of her jaw and the way her hands had curled into fists at her sides. “So, butt out and do your job!” She gave him a Fast Lane steely-eyed glare, something he realized the National Geographic photographer had perfected as a matter of survival. Or she just hated his guts.
He didn’t budge an inch.
She set her hands on her hips. “Don’t make me make you move,” she said between clenched teeth, her tone uncompromising.
Before he realized what she was going to do, she whipped out her foot, hooking it around his ankle, and used his body weight against him to send him to the ground. Classic move and very effective.
She stood there, glaring down at him. “You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.” A deep breath unraveled out of her. “It’s been almost two years that you’ve been avoiding me and my family. So, don’t pretend like you care.” Suddenly there were tears along with the pain and longing in her gaze, and it shredded him to see her hurting so much. He looked up at her helplessly. He wanted to tell her that what they had shared so briefly left him wanting more, but he couldn’t get involved with her because he wanted more and…she…was…Max’s…sister. It was better to let her think she and her family meant nothing to him than to have him lose not only the respect of his team, but himself. He could get lost in her, and it scared him like nothing downrange ever could.
Beyond the complication of Max being his teammate, Anna deserved more than a man who only had carnal pleasure to give her because he just didn’t do long-term commitments.
“Be ready.” She walked away, and he heard the sound of an engine, then a car roar away.
Dodger dropped his head into his hands and sat there. He couldn’t let Max down. That was the bloody bottom line.
Fast Lane cleared his throat, and Dodger looked up at his commander and 2-Stroke, sighing.
“That is one pissed off female. What the hell did you do to her, Dodger?” 2-Stroke asked, extending his hand.
“None of your bloody business.” Dodger slapped his palm against 2-Stroke’s and rose when his teammate tightened his hold and pulled. Back on his feet, he steamed, realizing that he was going to have to deal with this untenable situation. Anna was going with them when they went after Max.
“I don’t like this any more than you do. Max will skin us alive if anything happens to Anna, but you don’t think three SEALs are enough to protect her?” Fast Lane asked.
Dodger just stared.
Fast Lane sighed and shifted. He didn’t like it when there was dissension in his ranks. “Look, Dodge, I’ve read reports about this Muhammad Angar Said that will keep you up at night. He’s worse than Bin Laden. Ten times. He’s younger, healthier, and intends to do damage to the US. We can’t let him get away. The CIA wants him bad. They’re giving us a hand, and we’re going to do what they ask so we can get out in the field and complete these two vital missions. Nothing is going to stand in the way of getting Max back. We are certainly not going to let our teammate be used as a bargaining chip. The stakes are way too high and negotiations too unpredictable. Nor are we going to let Angar Said escape. I need you fully on board, no matter your objections against Anna’s participation.”
Dodger let out a hard breath. “I’m bullheaded, and I can be a right pain in the arse, but you can be certain that I will follow orders, LT.”
Two days later, Dodger had to swallow his anger and resentment as he stood outside the Hotel Rosa. He had to give it to the CIA. They had pulled off a slick switcheroo when the seven of them swapped places with US volleyball players on their way back to the US. When the plane had taken off, courtesy of the Air Force, Dodger and the team were in a van already heading back to the city.
Dodger was talking to one of his friends—he had them all over the world—getting transportation and equipment. His friend, a native Paraguayan stood with him across the street from the hotel.
“Hey, Dodger?”
He turned at the sound of the masculine voice to see Hemingway’s BUD/S roommate, Milo “Professor” Prescott.
When Anna had gotten to the hotel, she’d had an update for them. They were getting another Team Seven member.
“Hey, Professor. I heard you were joining us for this fun jaunt into the jungle.”
Professor smiled and they shook hands. “Always glad to help. Adrian sends his regards.”
Professor’s LT was also a BUD/S graduate from Hemingway’s class. Adrian “Rock” Lane.
“This is Pablo Gutierrez, a friend of mine,” Dodger said.
“He saved my damn life,” Pablo said, and Dodger clapped his shoulder and shook his head.
“Right. The save that shall not be named. Sorry.”
Professor smiled, his brow lifting in a quizzical manner, but he didn’t press for the details.
“Okay, are we—”
He was interrupted when dogs started barking…everywhere. Then there was a terrible grinding roar as fruits and vegetables spilled from the market carts. Wind chimes tinkled violently as roof tiles hit the pavement and shattered just to the left of where they were standing. The concrete beneath his feet started to shake hard, the ground waving beneath his feet.
“Get to the middle of the street!” Pablo yelled. “Earthquake!”
They all moved as one.
The sound of breaking glass and another horrible roar like trash being dumped from a tall height sounded behind him as he lost his balance and fell to his knees in the street. People were clutching each other, screaming, crying, and yelling as the shaking intensified, then subsided.
His heart pounding, he turned his head to look over his shoulder. The entrance to the Hotel Rosa was full of rubble and the structure partially collapsed with Anna and his teammates inside.
Renata only had to make a very small incision just above the lodged bullet to remove it. She then stitched up the small cut and dressed it. With the help of the digital X-ray, she used forceps to extricate the foreign substance, which turned out to be material from his clothing. Once she was sure she had gotten everything, she rinsed the wound with an antibiotic flush. Leaving the bullet hole open so it could drain, she reached for a bandage when all of a sudden, Jugs darted toward them. Then the floor beneath their feet started to shake and roll, dust and debris falling from the ceiling.
She threw herself over Max’s body to protect his wound and to make sure he didn’t roll from the table during the violent shaking.
“It’s an earthquake,” Carolina called above the rumble. Jugs crouched, ready to tackle this terrible threat to his partner, barking at the disturbance. “Don’t worry. My husband built all our structures to withstand earthquakes. He was very adamant about it.”
Her heart hammering, Renata, with Carolina’s help, managed to hold Max onto the table braced with their bodies.
Once the shaking subsided, Renata finished bandaging him up. By the time they had gotten him wrapped in a clean sheet and back into the sleeping bag and onto his litter, they had endured several aftershocks. Renata was running on empty.
“I can take it,” Carolina said, grabbing Renata’s hands and frowning. “When we get him settled, let’s see to your hands, get you something to eat and drink. You need rest.”
“You are so very kind,” Renata said. “I’m starving. Do you have something we can feed his dog? This is Juggernaut, by the way. Jugs for short.”
He looked up at them.
“I have just the thing. Luckily, I have a neighbor with a dog and can get some food from him to tide us over for a bit. But first things first. He needs a bath and attention too.” She looked down at Juggernaut. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Carolina bent down and removed his tactical vest and set it on the empty table. Walking over to a big basin, she turned on the water and checked to make sure it was the right temperature. When she w
as satisfied, she turned to them and said, “Jugs, come here boy.”
He padded over to the basin, and with a spring off his back legs, leapt right into the water. She steadied him and started to wash him. He made a contented noise and Renata smiled.
She crouched down to Max and checked his vitals, breathing a sigh of relief. They were still stable, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. She had to eradicate that infection and then get him well. Unable to help herself, she smoothed her hand over his hot forehead, still unhappy about the fever, but she understood it meant he was fighting the infection.
It was as if the last three days of trauma caught up to her. She lowered to her butt and leaned back against the table for support. She’d done what needed to be done and found that she still disliked medicine. She was thankful Juggernaut had stolen her backpack. Without her help, Max would have died out there in the jungle. She didn’t want to think about all that vitality and power extinguished. Her eyes filled and she brushed the tears away impatiently. What the hell? She never cried, not even when she’d made the life-alternating decision to abandon medicine and break her dad’s heart. It was just the stress of the situation.
Renata had her emotions under control when Carolina lifted Juggernaut out of the basin, laughing as he shook and doused her with the water. She covered him with a towel and rubbed him dry.
“You are such a pretty boy,” she murmured checking his eyes and muzzle all the way down his body. “You did a great job of closing his gash.” She turned to look at Renata. “He’s a military dog, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but please don’t ask questions about Max and why they’re here.”
“I know what it’s like to shelter an American soldier,” she said softly. “So, we don’t need particulars. You can depend on me to keep quiet.”
Renata smiled. “I don’t even know how I can thank you for what you’ve done.”
“I’m a firm believer in giving aid where it’s needed. Let’s get your man into the house.” Together they picked up the litter and dragged Max to the house. They entered through a garage onto a gorgeous cobblestone courtyard with exotic flowering plants. The woman wasn’t only a top-notch vet, but a kick-ass gardener as well.
The house was a sprawling hacienda style home with low buildings located around the central courtyard with open patios.
“My dad had his own living space before he passed. There’s a bedroom, bathroom, and great room. I think you’ll be comfortable there.” They passed a round, stone fountain in subtle organic tones with a wide bowl on the bottom and an embellished finial on top where the water cascaded from small spouts inset into carved cut-outs. The edges of the finial and bowl were decorated with alternating triangles. The sound of the running water lent a peaceful, serene tone to the area. Beyond the courtyard straight ahead was a swimming pool with a concrete deck, the water a gorgeous turquoise.
To the left of the courtyard, she glimpsed the kitchen, dining room, and great room, and another structure which must be the master bedroom and likely an office.
Carolina pulled open a door across from the pool and dragged the litter inside. Together, they lifted Max from the floor to the comfortable looking king-sized bed with hammered copper and unique black iron work. There were matching nightstands and a dresser. The colorful art on the wall depicted Muertos, Mayan and Aztec motifs in the sun and moon duality.
The walls were a gorgeous mustard yellow and the ceiling hues of blue. Colorful Mexican-themed carpets brightened up the tiled floors.
“I have some clothes you can change into and a bathing suit if you’d like a dip in the pool.”
Renata covered Max up. He was sleeping deeply from the midazolam. She felt his forehead, her instincts tweaked. “We’ll have to watch this fever,” she said. “If it spikes, we’ll need to cool him down.”
Carolina nodded, concern in her expressive eyes. “Have a shower and get changed. We’ll get something to eat. I’ll feed Jugs for you. Be right back.”
Moments later she came back with a coral tank top, a pair of blue cotton draw-string shorts, underwear and a skimpy black bikini. “There are towels in the bathroom cupboard and shampoo and conditioner inside the shower along with body lotion on the sink.”
“Thanks.”
She checked Max one more time, but he was resting comfortably. Hot, dirty, and feeling the effects of too much sun, she went into the beautifully tiled bathroom and the large open shower and turned on the water, setting it to cool. She unleashed the beast that was her hair. Long and curly, it was a bear in humidity, and she kept it tightly braided to keep it under control.
The black locks sprang free and it felt so good to have the strands loose. She shook it out and stripped off her sweat- and blood-stained clothes, discarding them into a pile on the floor. The cool water felt heavenly, but her palms stung as she soaped up and rinsed, then washed her hair. After her shower, she towel-dried her hair, put on her underthings, and used the blow dryer to tame her unruly locks, working them into a loose side braid. Then pulled on the shorts and tank top. She collected her dirty clothes, the wet towels, and Max’s bloody clothes from the bag Carolina had dropped them in. When she set his boots near the bed, a dog toy popped out of his bag. She bent down and tucked it into her pocket, then gathered up the pile and left the room, crossing the courtyard to the kitchen.
“Hey, how do you feel?” Carolina asked.
“Like a new woman.” She lifted the soggy bundle. “Where do you want these?”
“Laundry room is straight through the breakfast nook to the left of the powder room. Feel free to start a load.”
She followed Carolina’s directions and found the washer. Renata tossed the towels, her vest, top, khaki shorts and underthings into the washer, then Max’s stuff. She stopped at Max’s shirt and fingered the hole, the dried blood, a fierce, protective sensation rolling over her, clutching her heart.
She braced her hands on the edge of the washer, struggling to squash the reaction, a thick ache stuffing up her chest. With her eyes tightly closed, she allowed the relief she felt to wash through her. This…this reaction was why she didn’t want to ever hold anyone’s life in her hands. She couldn’t handle this but knew her reaction was intense because not only did she like the SEAL duo, but she was heavily attracted to Max.
She got ahold of herself, tossed in his shirt, added detergent, then started the washer. She squared her shoulders and went back into the kitchen. Carolina was setting down a metal bowl full of chicken, rice, carrots, peas, and sweet potatoes onto the floor when Renata entered. Jugs sat there looking up at her.
She frowned. “You don’t like chicken?” She looked at Renata. “He’s got to be starving.”
“I think you have to give him permission.”
“Oh, you only eat on command. You’re such a well-trained trooper. Go ahead, boy. Dig in.”
He jumped on the bowl like a starving wolf.
“You wouldn’t believe he almost took my arm off three days ago.” Renata described how she had found Jugs and Max.
“How ingenious and brave of you. But he is part of a military team and doing his job. They train them to attack and to protect.”
Renata nodded. “I decided not to hold it against him.”
Carolina smiled and picked up two plates with grilled chicken, chipa—a simple bun made with cassava flour, lard, cheese and anise—a small salad, and kivevé, made with pumpkin, cornmeal, and fresh cheese. It was delicious and the most popular vegetarian dish in Paraguay.
“Grab that bottle of wine and those two glasses, and we’ll go out to the pool area to eat. It’s closer to Max.”
“You’re making me sound like a mother hen.”
“No, just a dedicated doctor. We can’t help it. I check on my patients often, too.”
“I’m not exactly a doctor,” Renata said, and Carolina’s surprised gaze snapped to her.
“This sounds like an intriguing story.” She set the plates, napkins, and silverware down on the tile
d table, inlaid with a sunflower motif.
Renata placed one goblet in front of Carolina and uncorked the already open bottle, pouring out the pale white wine.
She sat across from Carolina, the sky darkening and the lights coming on in the pool, the water a glowing aqua.
A soft breeze blew across them, rustling the trees in the back along with the exotic flowers, releasing their delicate fragrances.
After Renata finished filling her in, Carolina, her plate almost empty, sighed. “Wow, you’ve really tackled some schooling. Retraining after becoming a surgeon. I couldn’t imagine.”
“Getting my Ph.D. in Anthropology wasn’t as much a chore as medical school. I loved every minute of it.”
“So, what are you doing in Paraguay?”
“That’s even more exciting. Let me show you.” She ran quickly to the bedroom and grabbed her pack. When she got back to the table, she opened it, expecting to find the Spanish helmet, but it was…gone.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
“What is it?”
“I had a priceless artifact in here…”
“Was it metal?”
“Yes.”
Carolina let out a soft chuckle. “I saw Jugs with something metallic.”
“What? Where?”
“Around the side of the house.” The two of them jumped up and ran to the spot where Carolina said he’d disappeared. There, in some bushes, was the helmet.
“Oh, no. I think Jugs thinks this is a good item for hide and seek.”
“That silly dog.” He materialized next to them, panting and looking from the helmet to Renata as if he was impressed that she had found his hiding spot.
She swiped her hand over his head and silky ears. There was a much more appropriate game they could play besides hide the helmet. She pulled out the neon green toy from her pocket and threw it for him. He ran after it and brought it back.
