by Zoe Dawson
Jason said, “That’s a lot of fighters. I don’t want my wife in the midst of a battle.”
A man emerged from a crude tent settled near the fallen down barn and Renata gasped. Max turned to look at her. “What is it?”
She stared at the man as he walked toward the barn. “Diego said this was a Hezbollah camp?”
“Yes, that’s definitely what he said.”
“He might have been mistaken.”
“Why? Who is that guy?”
“Jorge Molina. He’s the leader of the drug runners in this area—marijuana and cocaine. They go by the name of Nexo, Nexus in English.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“Because I’ve met him.”
“Where?”
“In the government offices of Asunción. To do the work they wanted me to do and not have to have a security force follow me around, they made a pact with this group to leave me alone. They were warned that if any harm came to me, the government would decimate their business. They agreed.”
Suddenly, Carolina emerged from the barn and the man stopped dead. He strode up to her, grabbing her arm and shaking her. Jason started to rise, but Max pulled him back down.
“You go storming in there and we’re toast, so is Carolina. None of us want anything to happen to her but we have to be smart here.” He looked at Renata and cupped her face. “I know how you feel, believe me.” He broke his gaze and looked back at Jason.
They could hear the man’s loud, harsh words. “What are you doing out here? My son is inside, and you’re supposed to be tending to him.”
“I needed a drink,” she protested, looking stressed, dirty and very tired. “If I collapse, who will look after Enrico? Mr. Molina, please listen to me. I told you. I’m a vet. He needs the hospital, a real doctor.”
“You are all we have, and you will save my son, or you will die.”
Max was still cupping her face, and she said, “I need to talk to you.”
They moved back out of earshot. “What is it?”
Her heart stalled, then dropped in a sickening rush, and she stared at him, a wild tense flutter taking off in her middle. This wasn’t a matter of courage. This was a matter of survival. She held his gaze, knowing she had to face him with this. “I have a plan and you’re not going to like it.”
His gaze unwavering, he growled. “I already don’t like it.”
She could see that Jason didn’t like it either. But there was a wealth pain in his eyes knowing his wife was in such danger. How could she let either of them down?
This time Renata cupped Max’s face. “We both know what I have to do.” She could see that he did, and there was already pushback in those piercing blue depths. “It’s the only way to save her. She’s a vet, and if that boy dies, and I do nothing as a doctor, I might as well pull the trigger myself.” He was already shaking his head, but she held him steady, the feel of his dark stubble and hard jaw solid in her hands. “I won’t stand out here safe after she risked everything to help us. They won’t harm me. They can’t.”
He stared at her, the rugged angles of his face set, his full mouth clamped in a hard line, but there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
“She’s already in danger, Max. Please listen to me.”
He was pulling away from her, but she held on. “Listen. I know how hard this is for you. You’re the warrior. You’re supposed to be doing this.” She swallowed hard as the muscle in his jaw flexed, and she caught a glimmer of suppressed annoyance in his eyes. That was a sensitive nerve she hit. “But you can’t and that really pisses you off. I’m the only one who can do this. You have to let me.” She watched him, her stomach tightening when she saw the grim expression etched around his mouth.
He pulled out of her grasp, paced away, jamming his hands on his hips. He stared at her, fury etched into his face. She loved him for it. She truly did. He was magnificent in his need to perform his duty, everything she asked of him going against the SEAL code. This was his job, not hers. She had to agree there. She wasn’t equipped to take on an armed camp with the unpredictability of a terrified father who only wanted to save his son’s life. That she could understand, and because she could, she knew she could do this.
“Max, she helped to save your life, fed us, nurtured us and was so kind—” She broke off, her voice breaking as the tears welled. She cleared her throat, her voice hoarse as she continued, “I am so grateful that she did. We need to put aside our own fears.”
He swore low and fierce. “If anything happens to you, I’m burning that camp to the ground.” Jamming his hands back on his hips, he looked away, an angry set to his jaw, his profile taut, unrelenting, and so achingly handsome. He stared off across the landscape, his mouth clamped in a hard line, and Renata was so blown away by everything that was crowding against her heart. This man was a treasure. Bracing herself against the hard knot in her middle, she nodded.
“I understand.”
The ache in her throat intense, she was afraid she was going to cry again. She waited for the knot to ease, holding on to his gaze like a lifeline. She brushed at her tears and nodded.
After several more minutes of heated debate, she agreed to take his knife and slip it into her boot.
“Renata,” he said, his voice hard. “Use it if you have to. Find someplace to hide if you can. If things go bad, I will come for you. I promise.”
Her breath started to come short, running along the edge of panic, and his mouth came down on hers in a drugging kiss. Wet, serious, taking and wanting, his tongue pushing deep, again and again, consuming her mouth, demanding more, and she gave him everything she had. It was the only way. She slid her hand up into his hair, tangling her fingers through the long strands, holding him close and moving her mouth with his, pressing herself against him, curves molding to angles, the firm softness of her body coming up against the rock hardness of his. The taste of him filled her, the gentleness of his breath against her skin, the strength of his arms around her.
Then he was gone, striding into the forest where he was going to keep watch.
Jason stood there for a moment, then he set his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly, then followed Max and Jugs into the jungle.
She took a fortifying breath and started walking toward the main gate which was nothing but a corral gate that had once kept livestock inside. As she approached, she could see two guards and they stiffened the moment they saw her drawing close.
Their weapons came up and swung toward her as she put her hands up in the air. “Halt. Who are you and what do you want?”
“Dr. Renata Cavalcante and I’m a doctor.”
There was a rapid-fire exchange between them, then one of them ran off to the center tent. Seconds later, Jorge came out of the tent at a run. When he reached the gate, he peered at her. “Dr. Cavalcante?”
“Yes, it’s me. I heard that your son has been injured and you needed a doctor. I’m here to help.”
She could see his indecision. She was off-limits, but this was his boy.
“Mr. Molina. Your son. I’m a surgeon. Please, let me help him.”
He motioned and the guards ran out and grabbed her arms. “Gently!” he yelled. “Do not hurt her or I will kill you both.” He strode a few feet out of the gate and motioned her inside. She walked past the gate and looked toward the barn. It was old and leaning, with a thatched roof, weathered a soft gray in the moonlight.
Just before they reached the barn, he stopped and pulled her to a halt. “There is a woman here. She is a veterinarian and she has been ordered to help him.”
“You kidnapped her?”
“We did.”
“I don’t like that, Mr. Molina. But she can assist me.”
“Yes, that is good,” he said, his tone quiet.
She was only obligated as far as it took to help Molina’s son, but she couldn’t condone his methods in kidnapping Carolina and killing Diego’
s family. Crimes that they should be punished for.
Feeling as if every nerve in her face had gone numb, Renata nodded. Molina led her to the sagging doorway, and with her heart jammed up her throat, they entered the crumbling structure. The moonlight from outside did little to dispel the gloom, but even in the heavy shadows, Renata could see that there were box stalls. There was a wild flutter in the rafters and two sparrows skimmed over their heads, startled by the intrusion.
“This way,” he whispered, taking her to a stall. She followed his gaze and found a teenager lying on numerous blankets, shaking and sweating, his breathing labored. Carolina knelt beside him, dabbing at his brow with water.
She looked up and her eyes widened as she gasped. Before she could say anything, Renata shook her head imperceptibly.
There was an agonizing silence as Renata’s heart labored against the awful tension.
“This is Dr. Cavalcante. She is going to take over.”
“Thank God,” Carolina said, her voice as soft as a prayer.
Renata knelt in the hay and checked the boy’s pulse. His heart rate was fast and his breathing rapid. Not good. She checked his eyes and his pupils were reactive. “What is his name?” she asked.
Molina’s eyes softened. He might be the leader of cold-blooded killers, but he loved his son. “Enrico, but we call him Rico for short.”
Renata said, “I’ll need light, the stronger the better, and that table near the main tent scrubbed down and brought in here. Then get some of your men to move your son onto the table. Do you have any linens?”
“Yes.”
“Good, bring them and buckets of hot water. I have medical supplies, but I will need a scalpel. Do you have anything like that?”
“I will search around.”
“Make sure it’s boiled for ten minutes to sterilize it. Also, do you have anyone with O positive blood?”
“I will ask.”
“He’ll need it after the plasma I have runs out. As many as you can find. I’ll let you know when I need them.” These were terrible conditions in which to operate, but she had no choice. She touched his arm before he left. “You should have transported him to the hospital,” she said, bitter at the senseless death of a whole family.
“The earthquake has made travel difficult. I didn’t think he would make it. No communications are active, and I couldn’t reach my people.”
“I understand.”
As soon as Molina was gone, Carolina launched herself from the ground, wrapping her arms around Renata’s neck and as soon as she felt her friend’s warmth, she started to shake. Renata closed her eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Thank you for coming for me.”
“Of course. You have to act like you don’t know me. Max and your husband are just outside the camp.”
“Logan is here?” Carolina asked, her tone a mix of relief and fear. “Oh, God. I want to see him so badly.” Of course, she still thought of her husband as Logan, not realizing he was Jason Palmer, the missing Marine Max and his team had been searching for.
Struggling against the awful pressure in her chest, Renata hugged her tight, her voice wavering. “You will.”
“You are so brave to have come in here. Now you will be under the threat of their guns.”
“No. They have a deal with the government about me. They won’t harm me. When we’re done with his boy, we’re going to walk out of here.”
“Okay.”
Renata saw the questions in her eyes, and it was best to tell her about Diego later. Then she could handle the grief in private. She needed Carolina sharp and focused for the operation. She reached out and squeezed Carolina’s arm. “Later. We need to get ready for this.”
After fifteen minutes, men came back into the barn with the table, water, and linens. Renata stripped down to her shorts and tank top, then used the hot water and soap to wash herself thoroughly, then donned gloves. The men lifted the feverish and writhing boy onto the table.
She’d already forced antibiotics into him. “I need you all to clear out,” she said.
“I want to watch.”
“It puts him in danger. The more people, the more chance of infection. Please, Mr. Molina, let me do my job.” Her job, the words struck her like blows. This wasn’t her job. She was the only one who could save Carolina.
Molina had ground a knife down to a thin form of a scalpel. Renata picked it up and sliced open Rico’s abdomen. There was so much blood.
“Gauze,” Renata said as Carolina started to pack the wound. “This is so barbaric under these conditions.” She needed it clear to see the damage. As she got further in the operation, her heart sank. The bullet had pierced his intestine, pancreas, spleen, stomach, and diaphragm. She worked to repair the damage but made a soft sound when she saw the inflammation.
“What is it?”
Renata lifted her eyes to Carolina’s. “I can’t save him.”
“What?”
“He’s going into septic shock. It’s just too late. We can prolong his life for just a bit, but sepsis is advanced. I don’t expect him to last the day.”
“Oh, my God. This is terrible. What are we going to do?”
Renata took a breath and shook her head. “I don’t know yet. As I said, Molina cannot hurt me. He has to let me go and I’m going to figure something out to get us both free.”
She worked for another two hours, calling for blood when she thought he needed it. After closing him up, they made him comfortable in the hay and linens.
“Come,” Molina said after they had cleaned up. “Eat with us and then you may rest. My men can watch him while you sleep.”
“Thank you.”
They left the barn and went to the campfire where a man gave them a warm and tasty meal, directing them to a tent where they could sleep. As she walked across the compound, she knew Max watched her. She wished there was some way she could see him for reassurance. She didn’t know how Rico’s father was going to react when he died.
Inside the tent, there were two cots and Carolina folded down on the nearest one. Renata settled in the second one, her body aching and her mind so fatigued, her vision seemed blurred.
“Please tell me Diego and his father…”
Renata closed her gritty eyes. “I’m sorry, Carolina. They killed them all.”
There was a soft sob. “I was there when they killed Carmen and sweet little Consuelo, what they did to them. It was awful.”
“They didn’t—”
“No. Molina needs me well and unharmed.”
She opened her eyes and looked at her dear, teary friend. “I can only hope that they will get justice, Carolina. For them all.”
She nodded. “Ever since Logan came to me, I have felt safe. He has been so vigilant.”
“Tell me about his memory loss.”
“I concealed his identity because he was so injured. I knew he was an American, but after he couldn’t remember who he was and I didn’t know his name, I kept silent. When we married, he took my name. It’s common in our society for the man to take his wife’s last name. I wanted to protect him.”
The roar of vehicles made Renata sit up on the cot. There were voices, then the sound of footsteps. The tent flap was flung open and a man stood in the doorway.
He stared at her with the kind of look men got when they were looking at a juicy piece of steak or a woman they wanted.
Molina’s raised voice pierced the early morning silence. He spoke to him in angry, rapid Spanish and the man backed up, the tent flap falling.
Her breathing came in rapid breaths. She had no idea who this man was, but she got the strong suspicion that he wasn’t a drug runner.
Which meant he was under no pact to keep her safe and unharmed.
13
BUD/S hadn’t prepared Max for this. None of his training helped right now. Maybe because he wasn’t reacting as a SEAL. Maybe he was reacting as a man who needed to protect his woman. His beautiful, smart, funny, brave woman. His lungs fel
t tight and his breathing was ragged. Blood pounded in his temples and his heart raced. His vigilance was heightened to Defcon 1.
Never in his SEAL career had Max ever felt this angry, tortured and pinned down knowing that he had to endure sending a civilian woman, someone he cared about so much into certain danger. Never had a woman affected him on such a primitive, protect-at-all-costs level. He would die for her. But Renata had that effect on him since day one, and he had tried to resist her. But it was just a matter of time before he had acted on the thick attraction between them.
Mental torture was something he dealt with in the teams. There were always missions that tested his mettle, his dedication to duty, his very reason for fighting. But to be completely in the dark and have to wait for her to make her move while another woman he cared deeply about was also in the same kind of danger was unbearable.
There didn’t seem to be any release for the fury and anger swirling inside him. Especially now that he’d been awoken from a combat nap to find a convoy of unknowns invading the camp. Carolina’s husband was downright furious about leaving her down there, but with this wrinkle, he didn’t have to say a word to express his simmering rage. The tense set of his body, his clenched jaw, and his fuming silence said it all.
“Who’s that guy?” Jason finally whispered.
Max reached for his dual day/night vision binoculars. He peered through and homed in on the men who had just pulled up. Three Range Rovers full. His mouth went dry and every muscle and bone in his body, every brain cell and thought screamed at him to move. Go down there and pull them out.
“Makhdoom Javed Badunzye.” Max and Jason were currently in a well-hidden blind, with an excellent vantage point above the camp with both direct line of sight to the barn where Renata and Carolina had spent all night. Then to the large tent, the seat of the Nexo’s leadership, to the smaller one where Renata and Carolina had retired.
“Maybe Diego didn’t get it mixed up. Could that be Hezbollah?”
“Diego did get it mixed up. That’s the second in command for Al’Irada. Nexo has been rumored to be working with them.” He set his hand on Jugs’s back as Jugs had picked up Max’s tenseness and started to rise to all fours. He settled back down at Max’s touch. “They’re looking for me.”
