Before the men could strap into their jump seats, the plane climbed and banked radically to the right. Jacob sat down hard while still trying to maintain a hold on the woman. He wedged his legs against the cargo wall as the aircraft once again banked in a severe tactical avoidance maneuver that pelted him with his unit’s unsecured packs. He braced for the impact of the flying equipment and unconsciously tightened his grip on the woman. Her scream of pain pierced through the roar of the turbine engines, momentarily freezing the team as they launched after the wild cascade of cargo.
He winced at her tortured response. The woman’s face contorted as she shoved her fist toward her mouth, biting down. He grabbed her hand and chin. In one sharp movement, he pulled, unlocking her jaw and removing her fist. He stroked her forehead and cheek as she cried out. “Shhh… you’re going home now. You’re safe.” Jacob wanted to tell her she would be all right, but probably, she’d never be right again. The torture she had endured would scar her forever.
Cargo bay lights turned on as the C-17 leveled off at cruising altitude. Absentmindedly, he continued to stroke her cheek and watched as his team secured the wayward equipment. The body in his arms stiffened and drew his eyes to her. She stared at him. No, make that through him. Blank and detached. Her body was on the plane, but her mind wasn’t. He’d seen it before. Unfortunately, his team had experience rescuing people who had been held and tortured. He doubted the woman would ever be the person she’d been before. The reality of her condition stifled any thought of celebration at her liberation. It was a miracle she’d made it this far.
Jacob looked over his shoulder. “Doc, you need to take a look at this arm and her leg. The shoulder joint is definitely dislocated. I think the leg may be broken. And Doc, her feet… shit.”
The medic threw some equipment storage cases off a pallet and put down a blanket. “Skipper, bring her over here and lay her down.”
Jacob lifted her, careful to avoid hurting her again, and walked over to the pallet. He lowered her with a gentleness that belied his massive size. When he straightened to leave, she grabbed his forearm with a strength that could only be pure adrenaline.
He glanced at her face and saw clarity. “It’s all right. You’re safe.” Her grip didn’t loosen as she scanned the cargo bay with the one eye she could open fully.
Jacob put his hand over hers and moved back toward her. “Okay, honey, if you don’t want me to leave, I’ll stay.” Her gaze searched his face for a long time. He watched the tension melt out of her body as she relaxed and her eyelid closed. Yet, her hand held onto his arm. He used American Sign Language, along with military devised hand signals, to communicate directions to his team across the cargo bay and stayed beside her until she passed out again. ASL provided a silent means of communication, and all members of Guardian were fluent. The skill had saved countless lives when even a whisper meant detection and death.
Doc completed his examination and called Jacob to the foot of the pallet. “Skipper, you were right,” he whispered. “Her shoulder is dislocated. I don’t know how long it’s been out of the socket, but if we don’t reduce it more damage to the muscle is a definite. Nerve damage is almost inevitable. She is so filthy I don’t know how extensive her internal injuries are. The bruising and the filth overlap. Infection is an immediate concern because of the condition of her feet. Honestly, to properly triage her, I’d need to cut away her clothes and bathe her before I could see what I’m dealing with.”
Jacob glanced back at the woman. “Doc, she’s been victimized enough. Fix the shoulder. Wash the leg and see if you can tell if it’s broken.” They both looked at the overlapped, bloody and weeping burns that covered the soles of her feet. The men’s eyes met. Each understood the pain the woman endured. “Let her keep what little dignity she has left.”
Doc nodded and sighed. “Agreed. Dammit, Skipper. Why… how could they? I mean… a woman?”
“I know.” He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “Do what you can.”
Tori felt a soft touch on her face and heard the drawl of a deep baritone. “Honey, we have to put your shoulder back in the socket.” Opening her eye, she turned toward the soothing voice and tried to focus. His eyes were almost a steel color. He had a handsome face, strong chin, and cheekbones. His nose had been broken once or twice, but the irregularity added to his rugged handsomeness. She noticed his thick black hair fell long against his collar, longer than Tori knew a military man’s hair should be. Oh… okay… she was hallucinating. It had to be because there was no other explanation if he wasn’t military. She reached out and touched his face. Her hand shook as she felt his warm skin. “Are you real?”
In an instant, his solemn face changed as he smiled at her. “Yeah, honey, I’m real. You’re on your way home. Doc here needs to set your shoulder. I’m not going to lie to you. It’s going to hurt like hell.”
Her eyes never left his. “Who?”
“Consider me your guardian angel.”
She stared at him. Her voice gathered strength, and again she asked, “Who are you?”
His hand touched her cheek. “My name is Jacob. Listen, if we don’t relocate your shoulder and set your leg more damage will occur. This will hurt. I’m going to hold you while Doc works. Try to stay still. Can you do that for me?”
Tori looked at him and cringed inwardly. Not again, please, please… no more. She watched as a large blond man took Jacob’s place. Her mind reacted as the fear of impending pain gripped her again when the blond touched her. She rolled her head to the side and waited.
Flashes of agony twisted through her body and, as if an outside spectator, she heard moans and screams. Her shoulder burned and agony radiated through her chest. A razor sharp pain pierced her leg. Finally, the blessed veil of darkness fell over her.
Jacob held the woman down as Doc manipulated her shoulder back into its socket and lifted her for the medic to bind her arm against her chest, preventing movement. The woman’s body shook and convulsed in his arms. He moved lower and pinned her hips to hold her down as Doc set the broken bone and splinted the leg. The eerie reverberation of her tormented screams echoed through the cargo hold, and her frail body went slack after a final anguished cry. Jacob waited until the medic finished the splint so Jacob’s question wouldn’t distract him. “Can you give her anything for the pain?”
“I’ve already given her what I can. I don’t know the exact extent of her injuries. With the bruises covering her stomach and back, she could have extensive internal damage. I’m not going to give her anything else unless I’m forced. The best thing is to keep her still and warm. We’ll be landing in a couple hours.”
Jacob turned and looked at the woman lying on the pallet. Obviously tall, and the one side of her face not grotesque and swollen showed the possibility of a high cheekbone. Damned if he could imagine how she would actually look clean and without the bruises and marks of the beatings. Her hair, it could be blond, but the caked mud and filth prevented him from knowing for sure. His gaze lowered to her face to see her intense observation of him. Her blue eyes did not waver as he greeted her. “Hello.”
She pulled a ragged breath. “Hello, Jacob.”
He smiled and sat on the pallet beside her. “You have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name… or perhaps you prefer honey?”
His smile spread across his face as he reached down and took her good hand in his. Why did he feel compelled to touch her? And no, he didn’t really want to answer or try to figure that one out, thank you very much.
“I don’t mind… name is Tori.”
Remarkably, her voice seemed somewhat clear, at complete odds with the horrendous damage her body displayed. Sympathy overwhelmed him. What if this woman had been one of his sisters? His smile became forced. “Odd name for a girl.”
“Victoria.” The corner of her mouth twitched, but he didn’t know if it was the pain or an attempt at a smile.
“Well, Victoria, I have a question for you.” H
e felt her body stiffen and watched as a guarded mask slid over her face. Jacob leaned forward and lowered his voice. “What is the first thing you want to eat when you hit the States?”
Her head jerked as she gaped at him. His laughter erupted. He couldn’t help it. The woman’s response was priceless. He saw her lips move as she attempted another deformed smile and winced.
The joy in her breathless voice surprised him. “Steak. Baked potato… butter.” He watched as she struggled to draw a deeper breath. She grimaced and continued. “Veggies. Salad… blue cheese dress… dress… oh…” She pulled a hissing breath in followed by a few shallow pants and released a small moan but continued. “Wine, a lot of red wine.”
Well, if that didn’t seal the deal. He liked this woman. Definitely not a physical thing. No way. The woman’s appearance, stench and filth defied any attraction. Decidedly not a physical thing. But, dammit if she didn’t make him smile. A person he would like to get to know. “Tori, you just stole my favorite meal, up to and including the red wine.”
She lifted her eyebrow at him, pulled his hand and waited until he leaned closer. Her eye twinkled as she whispered, “Bullshit.”
He threw his head back and laughed outright as he tried to feign offense. “What? You don’t believe me?” He glanced over his shoulder at his communications officer at work in a cluster of radio equipment and yelled across the bay. “Yo! Chief! What is my favorite meal?”
Chief leveled his intense black eyes on both of them and without missing a beat yelled back. “Rib-eye steak… medium rare.”
Doc walked up to the foot of the pallet and chimed in, “Yeah and a baked potato with that damn foo-foo red wine. Not a real man’s drink if you ask me. And you should. Ask me, that is.”
Jacob turned back to her and plastered on his best cheesy smile. He held out both hands, palms up. “See, no bullshit.”
Tori laughed and winced. Jacob watched as she grabbed her ribs and closed her eye. He felt a twinge of guilt for eliciting the laughter. When she looked at him again, he shook a finger as if admonishing a child. “No more laughing for you, young lady.”
Tori turned her head. Her eyelid dropped once and then again. Barely discernible over the engine noise, her voice carried to him. “I’d given up. I never thought… I’d laugh again.”
Either the pain or exhaustion pulled her under. He sat beside her as she dozed on and off. When turbulence shook the aircraft, she would jolt awake. He made sure each time she woke, he was with her. As he signed with his aviation, weapons, and demolition specialists, she cleared her throat. Jacob stopped signing and looked down at her.
“Explain something for me?”
Jacob lifted an eyebrow. “If I can.”
She nodded her head toward his team. “No insignia. Military team. Good team. Equipment not DoD. Why were you there?”
Jacob liked her spunk. He knew the questions had cost her. He could see the pain she battled to ask them. Amazed the woman could be anything but a comatose heap after what she endured, his admiration for her grew. Yeah, he could like her. “Well, now, you are observant and inquisitive aren’t you? How about we turn the tables? Why does a young woman with an indistinguishable accent, who would be more at home in a country club or on a college campus, happen to be held in an Afghanistan warlord’s encampment?”
He could tell Tori watched him closely, but she hadn’t finished surprising him. She lifted her head a small distance off the pallet, looked around the cargo bay, and then crooked a beckoning finger at him.
He leaned in and watched her. He heard her rasping breath as she drew it in before she spoke. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” Tori executed a massive stage wink and laid her head back down. The look on her face could almost be classified as mischievous. Well, two could play that game.
The audacity and the personality of the woman lying beside him struck him to the core. “Truthfully, I doubt I would enjoy that Tori… and realistically I think killing me may be just a little bit challenging for you right now.”
She drew a deeper breath. “No, no challenge. Give me a year… to heal. I’ll kill you then.”
“Okay, that’s a deal. We’ll meet for a rib-eye steak dinner, one year from today. After we eat, you can try to kill me if you think you’re up to it.”
She raised that delicately shaped brow again. “Meet? How? You don’t… ah… know me.” Her face contorted in response to the effort it took to talk.
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Three days without sleep were starting to wear on him, but he lowered his voice. The conversation became intimate. “Oh, I’m afraid that one is far too easy, my new friend. You’re a spook. It’s the only plausible reason you were in a warlord’s prison camp. You live and work in D.C., or close to it.”
A mask fell over her face. He hurried to continue the conversation. He didn’t want to threaten her privacy. God knew she’d been violated enough. “I could let you pick the restaurant, but I recommend O’Malley’s in Georgetown. The steaks are the best I’ve ever had.”
“What’s the date today?”
“October 25th.”
“October? Oh God… really?” Her eyes glazed over. Undoubtedly, her sense of reality and the truth had collided. He waited for her to process the information he had given her.
“October?”
He nodded in silent affirmation.
She closed her eye and moved her head slowly from side to side. After several minutes, she turned to him and whispered. “I tried. Tried to keep track. I missed a couple days.”
A series of expressions passed over her face. Once again, he waited to give her space. She drew a deeper breath and with effort, she smiled. “What time… at the restaurant?”
His eyes locked with her visible one sapphire blue eye. “Seven-thirty. And don’t make me wait; I’m not a patient man.”
She chuckled with a wince and held her ribs. “A lady is allowed a few minutes?”
He looked at her and took in the damaged body. He couldn’t imagine the horror she had seen in the last one hundred and four days. “I think you may be entitled to be a few minutes late.”
The plane banked. The red cargo light came on and draped the bay in an eerie glow. “That means we are on final approach. We’re landing at Ramstein Air Base in Germany. A medical team has been arranged and is meeting the plane on the ramp. The crew chief is coming back here to stay with you until the plane stops. My team and I are exiting stage left, prior to anyone boarding the aircraft… if you get my drift.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I wasn’t… primary mission?”
Jacob shrugged his shoulder. “No need to thank me. I just go where I’m told, and now and again, I get to rescue a lovely damsel in distress.”
A tear slipped down and streaked the muck that caked her face, but she smiled. “Lovely? No, not… anymore. Don’t recommend that place… as a spa.” The last word came out as more of a groan than a word.
The misery and distress in her voice revealed a fragile psyche that appeared to teeter on the edge of sanity. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her whispered cry for absolution uncharacteristically struck a chord deep within him.
Jacob reached his hand out and wiped the tear that hung near the corner of her eye. The caked filth smudged across her cheek. Dammit. Tears. He hated female tears. He had to find his contract.
He whispered as he leaned close to her, “Now I’m throwing the bullshit flag. I know that under all this dirt is a nice person and that is all that matters. And FYI… the entire staff at your spa has been served their termination notice. It seems other people had lodged serious complaints.” He lifted the back of her hand to his mouth and kissed it before he stood.
He noticed Tori watched him turn to his team and gear up. The men shouldered backpacks full of equipment and strapped on enough firepower to start a small war.
“Is being a giant mandatory?”
Jacob looked at his men and then himself and started to la
ugh. His men were all massive, but he stood taller than all of them. “Yeah, good ole, homegrown, American boys.” Her head turned toward him. He held her eye with his. “One year from today, seven thirty at O’Malley’s. Don’t be late.”
She lifted her hand and waved in his general direction and panted shallowly in between her words. “I’ll… knock you… on your ass.”
“I look forward to it, Victoria.”
He moved to the cargo ramp and waited while his team checked each other’s gear. As the hydraulics activated, Jacob looked back at her and smiled. He pointed at her and mouthed the words, “Don’t be late,” before he dropped onto the tarmac while the plane taxied toward the arrivals hangar.
About the Author
USA Today and Amazon Bestselling Author, Kris Michaels is the alter ego of a happily married wife and mother. She writes romance, usually with characters from military and law enforcement backgrounds.
Hot SEAL, Savannah Nights Page 21
