The Albanian grabbed her hair and yanked her head toward his crotch. When she resisted, he slapped her face so hard he knocked her over, sending her sprawling once again on top of Ted. Teeth clenched against the pain that exploded through her head, she struggled to right herself.
He reached for her again. “Filthy whore!” he screamed his accent thickening with every word. “You will learn to obey or you are dead! You hear me, whore? Dead!
That’s when Solo kicked out with his legs, pushing her off of him, and rolled onto his back. Lifting the gun he was unexpectedly, miraculously holding in both hands, he shot Sokolov right between the eyes. The Albanian crumpled in a gangly heap, his head striking the concrete with a sound like that of a watermelon dropped from a second-story window. With a groan of pain, Ted collapsed back onto the floor.
Sarah lifted her head and saw Ryder Malone raise his own gun and point it straight at Solo’s head. Oh, no you don’t, asshole. With a guttural roar that began deep in her chest and emerged as a screech, she raised her right hand, pointed the gun and squeezed the trigger.
The unexpectedness of the recoil kicked the gun out of her hand and sent it clattering to the floor. When she didn’t feel the hot burn of an answering bullet tearing through her flesh, she risked a glance upward, only to see Ryder Malone holding out his arm, staring at it in shock. Streaks of bright red blood pumped from the bullet hole in his bicep. Holy Moley! I actually hit him!
“Bitch!” he roared in outrage. “You fuckin’ shot me!” Taking two staggering steps toward her, he lifted his gun again, this time pointing it straight at her head.
“Drop it, asshole.”
Oh.
My.
God!
At first Sarah thought she was hallucinating, a result of all the recent blows to her head. But, no, there they were, Adam and Jesse, right behind Ryder Malone, both guns pressed against the back of his head. Adam and Jesse. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life. Her first instinct was to jump up and run to them, but the last thing they needed right now was anyone distracting their attention. So she reluctantly remained where she was, just drinking in the sight of them.
A sight she never thought she’d see again.
“I said, drop it,” Jesse repeated, grinding the tip of the HK’s suppressor against Ryder’s tattooed neck. “See, right now you’re probably thinkin’ to yourself, ‘okay, so he’s gonna kill me, but at least if I go, I’ll take her with me.’ And if that’s what you’re thinkin’, you’d be dead wrong. Because it will take my bullet less than one thousandth of a second to sever your spinal cord. You’ll be dead before your brain can even form the command to shoot. So, what’ll it be, asshole? You have exactly ten seconds to unfuck yourself.”
For some reason that Sarah couldn’t fathom, while Jesse was talking, Adam kept looking at his watch, as if he were late for an appointment. “Now,” he said. A quick karate chop to Ryder’s wrist knocked the gun out of his hand. A quick shove between the shoulder blades pushed him to the floor. A knee to the small of the back held him in place while Jesse fitted the flex-tie cuffs around his wrists.
And that’s when all hell broke loose. A massive explosion shook the walls of the Quonset hut, sending everybody diving for the floor. It was followed by the staccato beat of debris raining down on the metal roof. Another blast came next, followed by a brief pause.
Sarah was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when a whole series of explosions went off, so close and so huge, they not only rattled the walls they convulsed the floor. The room went dark, except for the bright bursts of orange fire blazing beyond the windows. Outside, she could hear running footsteps and men shouting and swearing. Inside, Adam’s voice saying, “What the bloody hell was that?”
Beneath her, Solo began shaking. Scrambling to her hands and knees in alarm, she bent over him, staring at him in horror. “Oh, my God, Ted, what’s the matter?” His entire body was jerking, and a strange sound was coming in bursts from his lungs. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking?” The left side of his shirt was soaked with the blood seeping from the wound in his chest. But other than that she couldn’t see anything else wrong with him. “Ted, what’s happening? Are you having a seizure?” And then she recognized the sound he was making.
Solo was laughing! Just lying there on the floor, braying like a jackass. “Ted! You scared me to death! What on earth—”
“Fuckers never shoulda put me in charge of refueling the generators! They were just too damn tempting.” He raised both hands. “Boom,” he whispered, spreading his fingers outward.
The unmistakable beat of helicopter rotors joined the cacophony outside, followed by a veritable barrage of rapid, staccato bursts of automatic rifle fire, as utter chaos descended on the compound.
Sarah struggled to lift herself up into a sitting position, giving a little yelp when Ted yanked her back down with his good arm. “Stay down,” he ordered. “If you get hit by a stray bullet, Jesse will kill me himself.”
“Where’d you get the gun?” she asked curiously. “I mean, the one you—”
“Boot.”
His tone of voice told her that was all she was going to get. So she just lay on the floor next to him, listening while Armageddon raged outside. As everyone stayed low to avoid getting shot, several men in full combat gear burst into the room, rifles up, ready to do battle—until they realized they were among friendlies, so they beat an equally hasty retreat.
They were followed by another man, who stood, briefly silhouetted in the doorway, scanning the interior. When he spotted Sarah kneeling over Ted’s prone body, he walked toward them with a brisk sense of purpose. He was carrying a large, red plastic case. Immediately he set the case on the floor and knelt beside Ted, unhooking a stethoscope from around his neck and fitting the earpieces into his ears. “Okay, Chief, let’s have a listen here.” He reached beneath Solo’s blood-soaked T-shirt and placed the chest piece against his skin.
“Hey, dickwad—sorry, Sarah, but, goddamn, that’s cold!” He glared up at the medic.
“You’ve got a hole in your chest,” the man reminded him with a smirk. “You should be a little more worried about that than about how cold the damn stethoscope is.”
“Sadist.”
“Pussy,” the medic shot back, but his smile told Sarah that this was normal banter between these two uber-macho teammates.
“Okay, that’s enough,” she told the medic sternly. “Quit bickering and give this man your best patch-up job. He saved my life.”
“Aw, shucks, ma’am, it weren’t nothin’,” Solo said, giving her his best bashful cowboy grin. “Besides, you saved mine right back. Pretty awesome move for a—”
“If you say ‘girl,’ I’m going to punch you right in the nose,” she warned, cocking her arm back.
“Civilian,” he finished, putting up his hands in mock surrender. “For a civilian.”
“Heartbeat’s nice and steady,” the medic murmured, unhooking the ear pieces.
“Sarah, this is Rick “The Prick” Cochran. Rick, this is Sarah Marshall. Jesse’s Sarah,” he added, giving Rick a significant look.
“Jesse and Adam’s Sarah,” she corrected, extending her hand to shake the medic’s.
“Ah,” he said, nodding sagely. “That explains it. No wonder the two of them asked to tag along on this little shindig. What it doesn’t explain,” he added, looking her up and down thoughtfully, “is why she’s dressed in one of those god-awful shirts of yours. And only in one of your god-awful shirts—unless I miss my guess.”
“These assholes kidnapped her,” Ted explained, “stripped her, hung her up by her wrists.” He jerked his chin toward the ceiling, where the chains she’d been bound to still hung.
“Jesus,” Cochran muttered, following his gaze.
“Sold her to Scarecrow over there,” he continued, indicating Sokolov sprawled on the floor. “He was here to take delivery—”
“Jesus!”
“Exactly. So
now can we can the chit-chat?” Ted asked in an aggrieved tone. “I got a hole in my chest the size of Kansas City! I’m bleeding here!
“Ah, quit bitchin’. He didn’t hit anything vital.” Retrieving his bandage scissors from the case, Rick expertly sliced right up the middle of Ted’s blood-stained wife-beater. All three of them watched as he gently peeled the fabric away from the wound. It was a neat little round hole, smaller than Sarah would have thought, and although it continued to seep, blood had already begun to crust around the edges. Carefully lifting Ted’s shoulder, Rick looked behind his back. “No exit wound. Bullet’s still in there.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Sarah asked, twisting her hands anxiously. She didn’t even notice she’d started crying again.
“He’ll need surgery and physical therapy, but, yeah, he’ll be fine.”
She looked up as two men approached, recognizing them instantly. “Mark…”she whispered. “Jay…”
Jay shrugged out of his backpack and set it down on the floor near Solo’s feet. “Hush, Sarah, don’t cry. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Jesse and Adam sent us over to look after you until they could come and get you themselves.” Bending down, Jay put his hands under her arms and lifted her easily over Ted Solomon’s body. He set her down on her feet and put his arm around her when her knees buckled. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
“Adam—” She was shivering so hard, her teeth chattered.
“He’ll be fine. Just a little banged up is all.” He turned his head slightly. “Cowboy, you wanna hurry up with that blanket?” he called over his shoulder. He swung her up into his arms, holding her as easily as if he were holding a small child.
“You’re safe now, Sarah. The bad guys are either dead or under arrest.” He nodded his head toward Ryder Malone, who, with his hands cuffed behind him and his legs shackled, was being escorted out the door by two men wearing blue windbreakers with FBI in big yellow letters on the backs.
Sokolov and Conway were still lying where they’d fallen.
“See? You’re safe. Everybody’s safe.”
“Oh, thank God!” With a sob of relief, she threw her arms around Jay’s neck and held on for dear life, nearly choking him in the process. She pressed her face against his shoulder and started crying, enormous, gulping sobs that made talking difficult. But that didn’t stop her. It didn’t even slow her down. “I was s–so scared. I th–thought Adam was d–dead.”
“As you can clearly see, sweetheart, Adam is fine. Only slightly the worse for wear. He’s a SEAL—it’s all in a day’s work.”
“His face—so much blood—”
“Head wound. They bleed a lot.”
“Wh–when that truck hit—”
Mark “Cowboy” Austin stepped up holding a blanket between his hands and folding it around her. “Hey, Sarah,” he said, smiling down at her. “Here”—he handed her a bottle of water—“you could probably use this, too.”
“Oh, God, yes.” She put it to her lips and drank thirstily. “Thank you.”
“Just glad you’re safe, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Mark,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking beyond him as Jesse and Adam approached.
Jesse held out his arms, and Jay shifted her into them. Her arms immediately went around Jesse’s neck as fresh sobs shook her body. Adam stepped up behind Jesse. “Don’t cry, angel. It’s all over. You’re finally safe.”
Her lips curved upward in a tremulous smile as she lifted a shaking hand to palm Adam’s cheek. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered on a note of wonder, her eyes searching, inspecting every visible inch of him.
“As you can see, I’m not. Well, not completely.” His attempt at a smile failed miserably. His usually tan face was white—Geez, rice isn’t that white—and streaked with dirt and blood. Lines of pain and fatigue bracketed his mouth and eyes. Suddenly, all the love she felt for both her men consumed her, shining from her eyes like a beacon, illuminating the darkness. “No, you’re not.” Her voice took on a note of wonder. “You’re alive. And you came for me.”
“Did you doubt it?”
Her eyes ducked away. Color stained her face as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She had doubted it, and the thought suffused her with shame. “I–I—for a moment, there…I’m sorry, I—”
“Hush, darlin’ girl, hush.” Jesse lifted her higher in his arms so he could bury his face in her neck. “After what you went through, it’s no wonder.” Christ! Seeing her like this, so fragile, so…haunted… ripped at his soul. Thank God they’d found her when they had. Ten minutes later, she would have been on a plane bound for Sokolov’s island and completely beyond their reach. He shuddered at the thought.
Feeling the tremor pass through his large frame, she tightened her arms around his neck. “Don’t let me go, Jesse.”
“Never, baby,” he promised softly.
Resting his chin on Jesse’s shoulder, Adam gently touched his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth. “We will always come for you, my love. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far.”
“That’s what kept me going.” She sighed, then frowned. “How did you know I was in here—this building, I mean?”
“Solo,” Jesse said, swinging her around slightly as Rick Cochran and his medics wheeled Solo’s gurney up to them. Swaths of white gauze crisscrossed his upper chest, holding the gauze dressing in place. “When he started bitchin’ and moanin’ about havin’ to carry fuel all the way from the Quonset hut to fill up the generators, that’s when we knew where you were.”
“You could have warned us about those,” Adam said with mock severity. “I thought I was the only EOD on this op.”
“No time. I was monitoring your chatter,” Solo said, “planning on chiming in as soon as I found her, but then things turned into a real clusterfuck. Your girl saved my life,” he said, reaching out his hand for Sarah to take. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you. If you hadn’t come in when you did, Conway would have, and S–Sokolov—I–I’d be…” She broke off, unable to finish the thought.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now.” Jesse turned his attention to Solo. “Thanks, man,” he said solemnly, “We owe you—big time.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Rick said, “but we need to get this man to the hospital.”
Solo gave Sarah’s hand a squeeze, then released her to let them wheel him away.
“How do I get your shirt back to you?” she called after him.
“Keep it. I’ve got plenty more.”
“Burn it,” Adam muttered. “Damn thing’s an eyesore.”
“I heard that!”
“Good, then you know what to do with the rest of them!”
“Just for that I’m wearing one to your wedding!”
As Jesse, her first and forever love, lifted her high against his chest, Sarah let out a ragged sigh. Adam pressed in from the other side, sandwiching her between them, putting his arms around both of them. Pressing their heads together and, overcome with the emotion of being reunited, all three of them dissolved into tears of joy and relief. They simply stood there, holding each other, offering comfort and solace and reassurance through their mingled tears, their reverent touches, their murmured words of love and affirmation.
At that moment, for Jesse. Sarah, and Adam, nothing else existed. Not the sporadic bursts of gunfire still continuing outside. Not the dead bodies on the dirty concrete floor of the Quonset hut. Not the milling crowd of soldiers and government agents who, as they became aware of the fact that the three of them were simply standing there in a frozen tableau, just stopped what they were doing and turned to watch.
The depth of the connection shared by the threesome, not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally as well, was abundantly manifest to every person in that room. And, to a man, the onlookers realized how privileged they were to be witnessing something so rare, something so precious. Something they were not likely ever to see
again, much less experience for themselves.
For ten full minutes nobody moved. Nobody spoke. And nobody looked away. Until Jesse smiled lovingly down at Sarah. “C’mon, darlin’ girl. Let’s go home.”
“Not so fast, Ranger.” Bill “Wildfire” Payton strode into the room, and instantly all the soldiers snapped to attention and saluted. “We need to debrief you.”
“Later, Bill.”
“Not later. Now. We’ve got a chopper waiting to take the three of you to Bethesda to get Adam and Sarah checked out. You can give your statements on the way.”
Jesse and Adam exchanged glances.
“Looks like we’re going to Maryland,” Adam said with a rueful grin.
Jesse sighed. “Yeah. Sucks to be us”
* * * *
She was running through the darkness, gasping for breath, the stitch in her side growing more and more painful with every step. Her chest was so tight, she couldn’t breathe, her throat so thick, she couldn’t swallow. Why am I naked? And why are my hands cuffed? She didn’t know where she was or who she was running from. All she knew was she had to get away, and she knew it with a sense of urgency so powerful, she could feel the panic starting to engulf her.
“Sarah!”
Adam’s voice! Faint. Distant. Fading away to nothing. Adam! Don’t go!
Someone was shaking her.
“Sarah!”
She frowned, went still. Not Adam’s voice this time. Jesse’s! But where are they? Why can’t I see them? “Jesse?”
“Sarah, baby, wake up.” He shook her again, not quite so gently this time. “Wake up, baby, you’re havin’ a bad dream.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
Adam grabbed her hand, raised it to his cheek. “That’s it, angel, open your eyes. You’re safe, love. You’re right here with us. It’s just a nightmare.”
With a gasping inhale, she opened her eyes, turning her head to look up at her two men. “Adam…Jesse…” She was lying on her side in bed, with Adam in front of her, Jesse behind.
Owning Sarah [Sequel to Loving Sarah] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 37
