by Debra Webb
"Mr. Camp," Salvadore said, the hint of a smile on his lips contradicted by the faintness of his voice, "as I told your wife, please do not concern yourself with me. Take care of her and the others."
Lucas patted him on the shoulder. "Don't waste your breath, my friend."
No matter the graveness of the circumstances, Lucas had to smile. Victoria would never walk away from anyone in need. He flattened against the wall next to the massive doors that led from the courtyard to the main entry room of the monastery. This wasn't the only way out, but the back exit would leave him in the open far longer. The Jeep was maybe twelve yards from the front entrance, but anyone approaching the gate would have a clear shot. Lucas took another moment to weigh the risk then he moved.
Staying low and close to the wall, he ran quickly to the Jeep. The wind had settled. A quick pause to scan the courtyard, then the interior of the Jeep. Clear. The Jeep didn't have doors, which was handy. No worries about interior lights or creaks. He grabbed the first aid kit from the floorboard, then the two bottles of water they had purchased for the trip. They had been so enthralled with the landscape that neither of them had bothered with opening the water.
Tucking the goods under one arm, he moved away from the Jeep. Keeping an eye on the gate, he headed back to the front entrance of the monastery.
The distinct sound of compacting sand and dirt bristled his senses.
Lucas's fingers tightened around a bottle of water, the only available weapon, as he prepared to spin around.
A gunshot fragmented the night.
Chapter Six
The man crumpled to the ground.
Victoria fired two more shots at the second man as he blasted off rounds from the gate. The bastard ducked for cover.
Lucas fell to the ground. Victoria's heart stumbled as an instant passed with him not moving. He rolled then scrambled through the open doorway, escaping into the cover offered by the monastery.
Victoria's hands shook as she ordered her grip on the weapon to loosen. A ragged breath rushed past her lips. Lucas was inside. He was safe.. .unless he'd been hit by the man firing from the gate.
Fear twisted in her chest. She couldn't risk leaving her post. She couldn't call out to her husband.
Pounding footfalls on the narrow stairs leading up to the bell tower jerked her attention to the right.
"Are you all right?"
Lucas. Thank God. Victoria dropped the weapon. She hadn't meant to, but her fingers would no longer hold the cold steel. Her arms went around her husband. He held her tightly to his chest.
She roved her hands over his body, drew back slightly. "You're not hit?"
He shook his head. "You made sure of that."
Victoria collapsed into his strong arms, the tears she couldn't hold back flowing like a hot, salty river against the cold harsh reality of their situation. They were supposed to be enjoying this vacation escape. How much longer could they continue to fight this battle of good versus evil? Not just this one, but the ones that appeared to find them on a regular basis?
He held her close, whispering soothing words that only opened the emotional floodgate wider. She could not lose him.
She would not lose him.
Victoria stepped from his embrace and squared her shoulders. "We're both going down there and we're staying put. If they want us, they're going to have to come in after us."
"You're right."
Surprised, she managed a decent breath. "Let's get Salvadore to safety and take it from there." Depending on how long this standoff lasted, they could very well have a baby to deliver, as well.
Victoria served as lookout as Lucas helped Salvadore down to the long-forgotten cellar. Lavina moaned softly with the building contractions. It wouldn't be long now.
Once Salvadore was settled, Lucas worked to secure the door as best he could with the available decomposing junk. Using the faint light from her cell as little as possible, Victoria cleared a place for making Lavina more comfortable. Her water had broken so time was short. Victoria found an old cotton tarp folded on a sagging shelf. The inside of the tarp would be less dusty than the outside, so she turned the best side up and spread the tarp over the clearing she'd arranged, then she helped Lavina to move there. Lucas offered his jacket for a pillow. Lavina and her son shared one bottle of water while Victoria helped Salvadore to a few sips from the other bottle.
"Too bad we don't have any matches."
Victoria glanced up just as her cell's screen went dark again. Lucas held his own cell in one hand, the screen glowing, and what appeared to be an old lantern in the other. "Do you think it still works?" Hope dared to prick Victoria's senses.
"There's fluid in the base and a wick. I think so."
"Here."
Victoria turned to Salvadore. He reached toward her and she immediately moved closer. "I wish I had something for the pain," she said. The man was suffering but the first aid kit had offered nothing for pain relief. A small tube of antibacterial salve. Antiseptic hand cleaner and a few bandages. The gauze and tape had provided a dressing for his wounds. But nothing else.
"Use this." Salvadore placed a small object in her hand. "I guess my bad habit has finally come in handy."
A lighter. Victoria smiled. "Very handy," she agreed. She passed the small plastic lighter to her husband. Within a few seconds he had the lantern lit. Victoria pressed her fingers to her lips, gratitude welling inside her. With what they had ahead of them, the meager light was a true blessing.
Lucas pulled Victoria to the side, away from the others. "When they figure out no one is monitoring movement around the courtyard, they'll move in."
Victoria nodded. "We took down two, but there's no way to know how many more are out there."
"I'm guessing two or three at most." Lucas looked thoughtful for a moment. "If there were more, they would have stormed the place by now. Still, they have to know our resources are limited."
His point was valid. "We can take out at least one more if they try coming through that door." Lucas had done a fine job of making it a less-than-easy feat considering what he had to work with. "Maybe two if they charge in together." But the enemy knew they were armed. Their retreat to this hiding place would suggest that they were out of ammunition.
"I'll listen for signs of their arrival," Lucas offered. "If you need me, just say the word."
Victoria squeezed his arm before letting go. "We'll get through this."
He brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Yes, we will. You have my word."
Her determination and courage shored up, Victoria checked on Salvadore once more before settling next to Lavina. "Are the contractions closer?"
Lavina nodded, her face constricted with pain. Her child sat on the other side of her. He held on tight to the sleeve of her blouse. His mother had warned him to be very quiet no matter what happened.
"When did you and Emilio get here?" With all that had been going on, Victoria hadn't asked a lot of questions.
"This morning." Lavina swallowed hard. "When I find building like this I wanted to go back home," she explained. "But the baby was coming. I look for a place to hide from the gringos who roam the desert."
Victoria understood. The men outside were likely nothing more than sand pirates. Bastards roaming the desert looking for tourists to rob or kidnap. Or worse, drug or arms smugglers.
"Did you have any difficulties when Emilio was born?" Victoria hoped not. Of course that didn't guarantee she wouldn't have problems this time, but it would give Victoria some understanding of what was to come.
Lavina shook her head. "He came fast. No trouble."
"Well." Victoria scrubbed her hands with the antiseptic cleaner. "Let's see where we are." Lavina bent her knees and widened them as Victoria tucked the skirt of her dress up to her thighs. Once undergarments were out of the way, Victoria barely stifled a gasp. The baby was crowning. She met Lavina's gaze. "Looks like this one is ready to join us."
Lucas waved at Victoria then tou
ched his lips.
Her breath caught as she heard what had garnered his attention.
Heavy steps overhead.
The enemy was searching the monastery.
Chapter Seven
Lucas took a position against the stone wall to the left side of the hidden entrance. He'd changed the clip in his weapon to be on the safe side. If the trouble came through that door, they were going down. No way were they getting past him.
He braced for the worst.
A low moan drew his attention to his wife. She leaned forward and whispered to Lavina. Victoria patiently stroked her hair and smiled comfortingly. The small boy sat silently watching. The scene tugged at Lucas's heart. His wife—the woman he loved more than life—was more beautiful now than she had been thirty some odd years ago when they had first met. Though they had no children together, he had been at the hospital when Jim was born. He'd paced the waiting room right alongside Jim's father. Years later Lucas had held Victoria in his arms as she grieved the loss of her first husband, Lucas's best friend. He had never loved anyone, never wanted to be with anyone but Victoria. Having her become his wife had been the happiest day of his life. He didn't intend to miss a moment of the rest of their lives. Together.
The thugs tearing through the rooms upstairs weren't going to take that away from him.
Lucas listened, tried to determine the number. Two, maybe three. Not such bad odds. He'd been in worse situations.
The silence interrupted his musings. The enemy had either exited the monastery or gone still in an attempt to locate their prey.
Not good. His fingers instinctively tightened on his weapon.
Victoria's gaze lifted to the ceiling. Cobwebs lined the rafters that held up the floor separating the cellar from the kitchen overhead. The abrupt absence of noise had startled her as surely as if someone had tapped her on the shoulder. What were those bastards up to? The possibility that they had given up and gone on their way was too much to hope for. They were still there.. .watching and waiting.
Lavina writhed with the pain of the next contraction. Victoria whispered soft encouragements to her. The baby would be here soon. Lavina pushed harder and the head was out. Joy burst in Victoria's chest. She cradled the baby's head and braced for the next contraction. They had reached the most difficult stage now. Emilio sat quietly just as his mother had told him to do.
During the moment before the next contraction, Victoria watched her husband. He was as handsome as ever. Brave. Strong. He would give his life to protect hers, as she would to protect his. She closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer that neither of them would have to sacrifice so much.
Lavina's body tensed. Victoria steadied herself, carefully supporting the baby. One long, hard push, then another. Lavina's fingers fisted in the old canvas tarp. Her face contorted with the effort of holding back her cries. The baby's shoulders were out and then the rest came quickly, its tiny arms and legs flailing. No matter the dire circumstances, Victoria smiled. A new life wiggled with promise in her hands.
She wiped the baby's face, cleaned her nose—it was a girl. Victoria quickly placed the infant in her mother's arms and helped Lavina open the front of her dress. If the baby cried out.
The newborn's wail filled the room.
Lavina urged the baby's hungry mouth to her breast. Emilio looked ready to cry himself but he uttered not a sound. Salvadore's eyes had gone wide with both wonder and fear.
Rushing footfalls reverberated overhead.
Victoria ushered Emilio closer to his mother, pressed her finger to her lips and then extinguished the lantern. The room went black.
Careful not to make a sound, she reared back into a crouch. She had no weapon, but she would fight to save these innocent lives.
Two, no, three voices debated what they had heard. One man was certain he'd heard a child's cry while the other two remained dubious of their comrade's assertion. Victoria strained to make out the words. The man speaking sounded as if he were in charge. Their targets had no children in their company, he insisted. More arguing ensued as the one who'd heard the baby's cry stood by his contention. The man in charge cursed his companions for failing to accomplish the simple task of executing the man and woman more quickly.
An icy mass of realization formed in Victoria's stomach. This was no kidnap and ransom attempt. Those men had been sent to assassinate her and Lucas. But why? Who would do this? They had both made their share of enemies, but none who seemed riled up at the moment. How had anyone learned of their vacation plans? They had been so careful.
And yet, here they were, waiting in the dark for a deadly confrontation.
Her gaze roved through the blackness to where she knew Lucas crouched, poised to protect her and the others. She didn't have to see him to know he would stand, battle ready and unhesitatingly prepared to fight to the death.
A bead of sweat slipped down Lucas's brow. He quieted his heart rate, listening, waiting. They were close now. Gathered in the old, run-down kitchen, desperate to find their missing targets.
One of the three voices—he had identified three distinct male voices —insisted the woman and two men had escaped and that his colleague was surely hearing things. But the dominant of the three was having no part of that theory. He knew they were still here. Hiding.
Thunder seemed to rage overhead as the three started to bang on the walls in search of hidden passages. Lucas slowed his respiration and tightened his grip on the weapon.
At the loud sounds, the boy who had until now been so quiet cried out.
The makeshift door moved a bit. The obstacles Lucas had put in place held a little longer before the door rammed inward.
Someone stumbled but quickly caught himself. The beam of a flashlight floated over the stairs.
Lucas held his position. The light wouldn't be able to reach him until the attackers were halfway down the winding steps.
He had to make every shot count.
There was no margin for error and no room for compassion.
His finger snugged against the trigger. He fired. The first of the three tumbled down the remaining steps.
Lucas moved forward, putting his body between the path of the flashlight's beam and the others.
Gun blasts exploded in the dank cellar. The flashes of light from the barrels of the weapons pinpointing the exact location of the shooters. Lucas fired a second time. Another man fell. The golden beam bobbed in the darkness as the flashlight bounced down the steps.
Moaning and wailing filled the emptiness that followed. Then the sound of running steps overhead warned that the third man had opted to flee. Lucas rushed after him.
Victoria steadied herself, sucked in a much-needed breath and weaved through the clutter. She grabbed the flashlight and checked the two men who'd gone down, confiscating their weapons. More shots rang out somewhere overhead and fear tightened its noose around her heart. She hurried to Salvadore's side and pressed one of the weapons into his hand. "I have to help Lucas. Take care of things here."
"Senora, I believe you should stay."
But Victoria was already on her way up the steps before he'd finished his plea. She clicked the flashlight off and eased into the kitchen. The silence crushed in on her. Where were they? She prayed Lucas was safe.
Forcing all other thought—and her fears—from her mind, she cautiously moved from room to room. A burst of shots in the distance guided her toward the front of the monastery.
They were outside.
The stars and moon seemed to light the courtyard like an airport runway after the darkness inside.
Lucas stood over the man who had tried to escape. As Victoria walked closer she watched her husband disarm the man and then secure him with his own belt.
She glanced at where the other two attackers had fallen, one by the wall, one near the Jeep. Her knees tried to buckle.
It was over.
This time.
Chapter Eight
Hospital Angeles Leon, Guanajuato, Me
xico, August 22, 10:45 a.m.
Victoria squeezed Lavina's hand. "Your baby daughter is beautiful." Emilio sat at his mother's bedside. He had been so good. Victoria and Lucas had taken him for breakfast once Lavina, the baby and Salvadore were settled into rooms.
Now, nearly three hours later, Emilio's cousins were en route to help him and his mother. Victoria had seen to it that Lavina and her little family would have everything they needed until she was on her feet once more. Salvadore would be released tomorrow and his recovery would be a speedy one. The man claimed he had far too much to do to lie around fretting over a mere gunshot wound.
"Thank you, Victoria." Lavina offered a smile but her lips trembled with the emotion shining in her eyes. "I wish to name my daughter Victoria, if that is agreeable to you."
Tears welled in Victoria's own eyes. "I would be honored to have such a beautiful child as my namesake."
They talked a moment more and after hugs, Victoria went in search of her husband. He had been called away for more questioning by the authorities.
They'd also heard from Sloan. Rachel and their new baby boy were through the danger and all was well. Victoria hadn't burdened him with their encounter. Later, when his wife and new son were home, she would fill him in. Of course, knowing Sloan, he would learn the details and call her before she had a chance to return to Chicago.
Home. Victoria missed her family and her agency. She would be glad when she and Lucas were safely back in Chicago. This vacation, in her opinion, was officially over. She'd spoken to her son as soon as they had arrived at the hospital. He'd wanted to rush
to Mexico but she had persuaded him to wait until later in the afternoon. She and Lucas would travel back to Chicago with Jim via the agency's jet this evening. Her son had insisted that security had to be top priority.
Victoria paused. Lucas stood at the nurses' desk chatting with the doctor who had taken such good care of the three patients she and Lucas had arrived with in the middle of the night. The drive through the desert in that old Jeep had been a long one. Perhaps not really so terribly long but it had felt like an eternity.
Lucas's jacket had been forgotten in the cellar back at the monastery. His white shirt was far from white and was torn in more than one place. His trousers showed signs of the struggle for survival. But he looked amazing. Tall, strong, handsome — even with that day's beard growth darkening his jaw. He turned, their gazes met and the world seemed to stop turning. Those gray eyes drew her to him as if he'd issued the command out loud.
