Enticed by the Operative (Doctors in Danger, Book 1)

by Lara Lacombe

“A man is injured. You are a doctor, yes?” Impatience crept into his tone and he made another reach for her.

  “Yes,” she said, allowing him to take her by the arm. “But I don’t have any supplies.”

  “We do.” He led her out of the shack and into the yard, pulling her toward another hut. She glanced around quickly, trying to count the number of huts. Five, six...no eight total, at least that she could see. She couldn’t tell if there were any behind her, but she’d be able to find out when they brought her back.

  Which one held Logan?

  Each hut looked like the others—small, worn, anonymous. There were no guards standing outside any of the doors, so it wasn’t immediately obvious which one was doubling as Logan’s prison.

  “Come on,” the man said, pulling harder. They reached one of the larger buildings and he opened the door, pushing her in front of him.

  Inside was a wall of bodies, men crammed shoulder to shoulder as they craned their necks and strained to see.

  “Move!” her escort ordered. “I’ve brought the doctor.”

  Somehow, the crowd was able to make enough space for her to squeeze through, and as she popped out at the other end of the wall, she saw what they’d been staring at.

  A man was laid out on a bed, moaning softly. He was covered in black soot from head to toe, his ailment not immediately obvious under all the grime. But as Olivia got closer, she realized he wasn’t dirty.

  He was burned.

  The smell hit her then and she swallowed hard against a rising tide of bile. Oh, God.

  She knelt next to the bed, glancing over him and wondering where to start. His face, his arms—every inch of exposed skin was charred black. To make matters worse, his clothes had melted, fusing with his body. There was no way she could remove them without causing him unbearable pain, but she couldn’t leave them either—it would only invite infection.

  Does it really matter? she asked herself. The majority of his body had suffered third-degree burns. Even if he was in a top-notch hospital, his prognosis would be grim. Here, in the middle of the jungle? He would almost certainly die.

  And when he did, what then? Would they blame her for failing to save him? Would they hurt Logan even more to punish her?

  Her mind raced as she tried to figure out a way to help this man. There wasn’t much she could do for him, but perhaps she could ease his pain.

  She opened her mouth to rattle off a list of supplies, but before she could get a word out, a woman burst into the room. She took one look at the man on the bed and fell to the floor, sobbing hysterically. She reached up and made to grab his hands, but Olivia stopped her before she could touch him.

  “You can’t,” she said, feeling sorry for the woman. “It will only hurt him more.”

  She didn’t know if the woman heard her, but she stopped trying to touch him. Instead, she gripped Olivia’s hands so hard she could feel her bones grind together. “Please, you have to save him.” She looked up and Olivia caught her first glimpse of the woman’s tear-stained face.

  It was Maria.

  * * *

  Logan lowered his foot to the ground, gradually putting more weight on as he tested the joint. They’d smashed his ankle with a tire iron to keep him hobbled, and he hadn’t had a chance to stand on it yet. The joint felt huge and it throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but he had to know if it would support some of his weight. He’d jump out of here on one foot if he had to, but it would be a lot easier if he could limp.

  He bit his lip to stifle a groan as his ankle protested. Pain shot up his leg and for a moment, he thought his ankle was going to give out altogether. But it held. Barely.

  It would have to do. Once he found Olivia, she could help support him while they escaped.

  Never mind that he didn’t know where she was being held or if she was okay. Never mind that he didn’t know how they were going to get out of here. His plan consisted of two steps: find Olivia and steal the Jeep. He hadn’t had the time or the energy to work out the finer details yet.

  But he was going to find a way.

  He glanced around the hut, but there wasn’t much to see. A small wooden table sat against the opposite wall. A thin gray mattress was on the floor to his right, a ceramic pot next to it. And that was it—just the barest necessities.

  Dark stains on the floor testified to the history of this place. Clearly, these men had tortured people before. They seemed to enjoy it, too, if their attitude was any indication. They’d practically danced with glee when they’d brought in a large bag, its contents clinking. The leader had placed it on the table and had taken great pleasure in removing lethal-looking instruments one at a time, spreading them out so Logan could see what was in store for him.

  His gut had cramped, but he hadn’t given them the satisfaction of showing fear. The leader hadn’t liked that. His eyes had narrowed with displeasure, but before he could start the torture session, a commotion outside had distracted him. There had been a knock at the door and another man had come inside, whispering a message into the leader’s ear. The leader had gone pale under his tan and practically run from the shack, leaving his minion behind to scoop up the instruments on his way out the door.

  Logan glanced that way now, wondering if they’d left any guards outside his door. If the whole camp was distracted, this would be the perfect time to mount an escape.

  He took a cautious step forward, and as he moved, the light glinted off something on the floor. He made his way over to the table and nearly laughed out loud.

  A knife lay on the ground, its blade mostly covered by the fine dirt of the floor. It was one of the torture implements, and the minion must have dropped it in his haste to get out of the shack.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Logan muttered as he knelt to retrieve the weapon. It wasn’t very big, but he tested the blade on the pad of his thumb and was pleased to find it was sharp.

  He stepped to the door and pressed his ear against the wood, straining to hear the noises outside. Breathing, voices, the shuffling of feet—anything to indicate if there were guards stationed at the door. But he heard nothing. Holding his breath, he eased the door open and peered out.

  The yard was deserted, but he could see the men clustered around a hut on the other side of the camp. So that’s where all the action is. He glanced around, trying to see if he could find where Olivia was located. But all the buildings were depressingly alike, yielding no clues as to their contents. He’d have to check out each one to find her.

  So be it.

  He eyed the closest shack, deciding to start there first. But before he could make a move, a man came out of the crowd and hurried across the yard, zeroing in on one of the shacks with the focus of a cruise missile. He flung open the door and stepped inside, and a moment later he popped out again, dragging Olivia by the arm.

  Logan’s breath caught in his chest, and he forced down the urge to shout her name. He wanted to run out into the yard and grab her, but as he shifted his weight, his ankle reminded him why that wasn’t possible. Not only was he in no condition to run, he’d be vastly outnumbered. The crowd of men was still turned away, but it wouldn’t take much to gain their attention, and he couldn’t take on that many people.

  He clenched his jaw as he watched the man pull her toward the crowd and a split second later, she disappeared into the mass of humanity. What was going on? Probably something medical, he mused. They knew Olivia was a doctor, which meant they likely needed her to treat someone. But who? And how long would it take?

  Hopefully a while. If the men of the camp were tied up with some kind of emergency, they weren’t torturing him. And if his reprieve lasted until dark, he could make his move once night fell.

  Logan carefully shut the door and hobbled back to the chair in the middle of the room. There was nothing to do now but wait.

  CHAPTER 18

  “She’s gone.”

  “What?” Carlos tightened his grip on the phone, as if a show of force could change the words he
was hearing. “What do you mean?”

  “She finished surgery this morning and I haven’t seen her since. She’s vanished.”

  His mind whirred with possibilities. “Maybe she snuck out for a moment alone with her friend.”

  “I don’t think so. Someone saw him leaving earlier with Juan Pablo.”

  Ah, so his instructions had been obeyed. That was good to know.

  “Is it possible she is resting or otherwise not feeling well?” Even as he suggested the possibility, he knew it wasn’t true.

  “I checked her apartment,” Daniela assured him. “When she didn’t answer, I used my key. She’s not there.”

  Carlos had a sinking feeling he knew exactly where she was. Damn interfering woman. She’d probably seen Logan leaving with Juan Pablo and had followed them, only to get caught up in the same trap he’d set for the DEA agent.

  “I’m not sure what to do,” the woman confessed. She sounded scared now, as if she was afraid he would blame her for this turn of events.

  “Do nothing,” he said shortly. “I will take care of this.”

  “Thank y—”

  He hung up, cutting her off. Then he let out a string of curses. This was not how he had imagined events would unfold. He had told Juan Pablo to remove the DEA agent discreetly, but it would appear the man had failed in that respect.

  Was Dr. Sandoval with the gang? His hand clenched on the arm of his chair. He hoped not, because his plan depended on her. She was the perfect conduit for drugs, and El Jefe had made it clear he wanted her on the payroll permanently. Carlos had given her a small job to start with, partly to see if she could handle it but also as a means of trapping her. Once she’d gotten her hands dirty, he could use it as leverage to force her to make bigger hauls in the future.

  But then she’d gotten involved with the DEA agent. It had proved to be a minor complication, all things considered, and one that he had handled. She’d have to be punished for it, of course, but he didn’t mind waiting until she was back in the US before killing her friends. Perhaps he’d make her watch, he mused, enjoying the thought. She reminded him of a horse that refused to be broken—too much defiance for her own good. It would be amusing to watch that spirit fade away as she saw the lifeblood drain from her friends.

  But first, he had to make sure she returned.

  He glanced at his watch and cursed again. They’d had her for hours—plenty of time to do real damage, even kill her if they were so inclined. She was such a troublesome woman he wouldn’t be surprised if they did decide to get rid of her.

  He picked up the phone and thumbed through the list of contacts. He had one shot to fix this, and he had to make it count.

  Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

  * * *

  “If he dies, you die.”

  The words echoed in Olivia’s mind, playing on an endless loop as she stared at the burned man’s chest, watching it rise and fall in a labored rhythm. She’d thought the camp leader, the man who’d so callously shot Juan Pablo, was indifferent to human suffering. But he’d taken one look at the man on the bed and his knees had given out, causing him to land with a solid thump next to her.

  He’d stayed there for a moment, his eyes wide and face pale. Then he’d shaken himself free of whatever emotions gripped him. “Bring her whatever she needs to help him,” he’d ordered. Then he’d turned to face her, his expression once again cruel. “If he dies, you die,” he promised.

  They’d had a surprising amount of medical supplies, most likely stolen from the hospital. She’d covered the man’s skin in cool, wet cloths and had carefully, painstakingly peeled his burned garments off his body. He’d screamed until his voice gave out and had fortunately lost consciousness soon after. Olivia hadn’t dared sedate him—he was too unstable, and with no resuscitation equipment to hand it was too much of a risk.

  He was still unconscious and to her great surprise, he was still breathing. There wasn’t much for her to do now but monitor him and hope he lived through the night.

  She cast a quick look across the bed at the other occupant of the room. Maria sat silently, her face lined with anguish as she stared down at the man, his features now almost unrecognizable. Who was he to her? A husband? Brother?

  Maria glanced up and noticed Olivia’s attention. “He’s Alejandro’s father,” she whispered, anticipating the question. “And the baby’s.”

  “How is your daughter?” It felt strange to ask something so normal in this situation, but Olivia didn’t know what else to say.

  “She’s fine. She’s with my sister. I left the children with her so I could come visit him. I only get to see him once a month.” Her eyes never left him and she lifted her hand, clearly wanting to touch him. Olivia opened her mouth to stop her, but really, did it matter? The man was going to die—it was just a question of when. Perhaps Maria’s touch would bring him some small measure of comfort and let him know he wasn’t alone.

  Maria laid her hand on the bed, her fingertips barely touching the gauze bandage on his upper arm. But even that tenuous connection seemed to calm her, and her muscles visibly relaxed.

  “We’re getting married next month,” she whispered. Then she shook her head. “Not now, though.” Her eyes welled with tears and she stroked the bandage.

  “I’m so sorry,” Olivia said. She wanted to reach over the bed and touch Maria, but the other woman likely wouldn’t welcome the contact right now. She was focused on her lover, and Olivia didn’t want to distract her.

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Now that things had calmed down, Olivia began to worry about Logan again. Where was he? Was he still alive? She had no idea where the camp leader had gone after he’d left—had he taken his distress out on Logan? She hadn’t heard any gunshots, but there were other ways to kill...

  “He’s going to die, isn’t he?”

  Maria’s voice was soft, barely audible over the sound of the man’s labored breathing. Olivia debated lying to her, but one look at Maria’s face changed her mind. This woman deserved to know the truth.

  “Yes. I’m so sorry.”

  Maria nodded, as if Olivia had confirmed her suspicion. She bowed her head, her lips moving in a silent prayer, or perhaps simply a goodbye. When she lifted her head again, Olivia was surprised to see her eyes were clear and determined.

  “You need to leave.”

  “Do you want some time alone with him?”

  Maria shook her head. “No, I mean you need to get out of here now while you still can.”

  Goose bumps broke out on Olivia’s arms and she glanced around, paranoid that a guard had overheard. “What do you mean?”

  “Raúl took most of his men and left to go deal with the situation at the processing camp. This is your only chance to get away. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never be able to.”

  Was she telling the truth? Or was this a setup, designed to test Olivia? Olivia wanted desperately to believe her, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to trust the other woman.

  Apparently Maria sensed her hesitation. “I’m not lying.” She reached across the bed and grabbed Olivia’s hand, squeezing hard. “I swear on my children’s lives, this is your only chance.”

  She seemed so sincere Olivia couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Could she really escape? But what about Logan?

  “I can’t go,” she said. Maria looked at her like she was crazy. “Do you remember the man who was in the room when I examined Alejandro?”

  Maria nodded, understanding dawning. “He is here, too?”

  “Yes. And I won’t go without him.”

  Maria cast a glance at the man on the bed, her face softening. “I understand.”

  “Do you know where they might be keeping him?”

  “There’s a shack across the yard—it has a yellow door. That’s usually where Raúl does his work.” This was said with a faint tinge of disgust, as if Maria didn’t approve of the man or his actions. Perhaps that was why she was trying to help now.
<
br />   Olivia’s mind raced with possibilities. She could sneak out of here, then circle around to the back end of the shack and somehow free Logan. She’d give him the gun, and they could head into the forest.

  And then what? Neither one of them possessed an extensive set of survival skills, and they were miles away from any kind of civilization. Plus, Logan could be hurt badly. How exactly were they going to get far enough away from this camp that Raúl and his men couldn’t find them again?

  Her heart began to pound as her worries mounted, and Olivia took a deep breath, forcing the doubts away. One thing at a time. Logan might have a plan of his own to get them out of here. But first, she had to find him.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked Maria. Olivia wanted desperately to escape this hell, but she didn’t want Maria to be punished for her disappearance. The woman had two young children depending on her for their survival. “Won’t Raúl know you helped me?”

  Maria lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, as if the possibility didn’t bother her overmuch. “I will pretend to be asleep when he returns. I’ll say you must have snuck out while I slept. He won’t be able to prove otherwise.”

  “If you’re sure...” Olivia said slowly. She glanced around the room, looking for anything that might be useful as a weapon. Maria followed her gaze. “Here.” She leaned over and picked something off the floor, then rose up to present a belt with a large-bladed knife, the kind used to hack through the jungle. “This was Jaime’s—he used it in the forest. He won’t need it anymore.”

  “Thanks,” Olivia replied. She wrapped the belt around her waist, cinching it tightly. The idea of using the knife on someone was just as unappealing as the thought of shooting them, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Before you go,” Maria said. Olivia turned to look at her, tamping down her impatience to leave. This woman was saving her life—she could give her a moment more.

  “Yes?”

  Maria looked down at the man on the bed—Jaime, she’d said. “Is he in pain?”

  Olivia bit her lip. How to answer that? The burns were extensive and deep and most likely excruciating. But he was unconscious and hopefully feeling no pain. Still, if he were in a hospital he’d be receiving pain relief.