“I’ll stay with her.” Shit, what was he doing? Twelve hours ago, all he wanted to do was go forward with this unit, to get back to what he knew. Now he’d volunteered for babysitting duty. What the fuck?
He got a knowing look. “That will also give her time to recover before she has to travel so far and us time to arrange new passports.” Westin stood. “We’ll only be in Rabat long enough to refuel. It’s three hours to Mali. We’ll have about six hours on the ground before we go. Part of that will be hooking up with Leonidas and going over any possible changes to the plan. We’ll get your girl.”
“She’s not my girl.”
Westin smirked like he knew something Jordan didn’t. “Maybe not yet.”
Maybe not ever. Love and commitment didn’t seem to be in the cards for him. Not because he didn’t believe in it — Jase and Bree had shown him it existed — he just wasn’t sure he could let someone care for him that deeply. He’d gone to too many funerals, watched too many widows and children drowning in grief to ever put someone in that position. It was bad enough his parents had to live with that possibility every time he deployed.
He shook his head, closed his laptop, and reclined his seat. It wasn’t something he needed to worry about anyway. He hadn’t seen Emme in more than fifteen years. She wouldn’t even recognize him.
Jordan stared at the horizon. He’d never seen anything like it. The setting sun painted the endless African sky in reds, oranges, and golds.
Westin stepped next to him. “Fuck, I hate this continent.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows.
“Long story. Comms are up. The Leonidas team is a few minutes out.”
He nodded. “Who are they again?”
Westin crooked his head and led the way back into the squat, sand colored building. “Another private security firm. The owner is Aiden Graham. Retired SEAL. One of the few groups I trust.”
“Aww, Westin. I didn’t know you cared.”
A large, bald man strode through the doorway, ducking down to avoid hitting his head. A dark beard, shot through with gray, covered the lower part of his face.
“I don’t, you asshole. Doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.” The two men shook hands.
Jordan held out his hand. “I’d say nice to meet you, but circumstances being what they are…”
Graham took his hand and raised his dark eyebrows. “Understand completely. You new to Titan? I don’t remember Westin mentioning you before.”
Jordan smirked. “Uh, no. I was appropriated from JSOC.”
Graham cocked an eyebrow at Westin. “You’re stealing from the Army now?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s on loan at the request of the family.”
Graham looked doubtful, but turned to the three men and one woman who followed him in. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the team. Turner Breslin, our pilot. Jeremy Owens, weapons and explosives, Harrison Byer, sharp shooter extraordinaire. And Paige Davis, Mistress of Mayhem in general. Don’t let her looks fool you, she’d just as soon cut you as look at you.” The woman in question rolled her eyes and flipped Graham the bird.
The group dropped their gear in the corner and gathered around the small table covered in printouts of maps and overhead imagery of the compound and surrounding area.
Westin pulled the largest overview from the pile and placed it on top. “Graham, you and your team will insert southwest of the compound, Titan will insert to the northeast.” He pointed out the designated points on the map. “We’ll breach the main gate and the southwest wall simultaneously. Intel indicates there are less than a dozen guards in the compound, but be prepared for more.”
“What kind of weapons do they have?” Owens asked.
“Unknown,” Westin said. “But expect the usual — AKs, hand guns, maybe a few RPGs.”
The two teams went over the plan several times, until everyone had it set in their heads. Leonidas would have the more difficult job of loading the group of hostages onto their helicopter and transporting them to the United Nations camp in Timbuktu. Even though the girls were reported to be from the same area as Emme’s clinic, they felt that was the better option to get them to safety.
Four hours later, Jordan shrugged into his vest and slug his rifle across his chest.
“Any questions?” Westin asked. Everyone remained silent. “Weapons hot. Let’s load up.”
They stalked out to the helicopters — the AH-6 Titan had brought and the UH-60 Leonidas had arrived on. Jordan perched on the edge of the crew opening, clipped his last-resort belt onto the tether, and braced his feet on the skids. The ground fell away as they lifted on. As soon as they cleared the outskirts of the airfield, he flipped his NVGs down and scanned his field of view.
“Comms check. Titan-one, check,” Westin called over the radio.
“Titan-two, check.”
“Titan-three, check.”
“Titan-four? Check.” He looked at Colby next to him and got thumbs up and grin in return.
“Three minutes to LZ.” Rocco’s calm voice came over his headset.
He shifted his neck side-to-side and took a few deep breaths. Focus. Just a normal mission. Nothing he hadn’t done a hundred times before. Didn’t matter who the hostage was.
“Thirty seconds.”
Rocco descended to the landing zone fast and the ground approached quickly until they were a mere foot above the earth.
He unclipped his D-ring and jumped into the cloud of dust kicked up by the rotor blades. Six steps away, he took a knee, scanning his quadrant for activity. The helo lifted away. They jogged to their rally point, a hundred yards from the compound, and took prone positions.
“Titan set,” Westin said.
“Leonidas one minute out.”
“Chop chop, Graham. You’re getting slow in your old age.”
“Bite me, Westin. We had to divert around a heard of goats.”
“Baaaa,” Cash said.
“That’s a sheep you ass.”
“Glad you know your farm animals.”
Jordan chuckled at easy banter between the two teams.
“Head in the game,” Westin admonished, although Jordan could hear the laughter in his voice as well.
“Leonidas set.”
“Clear on the north and east,” Colby said.
“Clear on the south and west.”
“Green light.”
They popped up on Westin’s call and fell into a small wedge formation with Winters on point and Cash pulling up the rear. Jordan kept his weapon at the ready as they closed the distance to the corrugated metal gate that was their breach point. He took position behind Winters to the left of the door, Westin and Cash on the other side.
Cash set the explosives on the door and returned to his position. Each two-man team hugged the wall as they moved a few feet out of the blast zone.
“Titan is a go,” Westin said. “Leonidas, call the countdown when ready.”
“Roger. In five…four…three…”
CHAPTER SIX
Emme sat cross-legged against the rough adobe wall. A three-day reprieve and she could see out of her eye. She pushed her shoulders back against the wall and hissed in a breath. Shit, that hurt. She foresaw surgery in her future. Anuli had tried to reset her shoulder, but she couldn’t get the leverage she needed.
She stared down at the small bowl of rice in her lap, trying to fight against the queasiness enough to eat. Using her fingers she picked up two grains of rice. One-ninety-three. One-ninety-four. Guess that’s one way to avoid heartburn. What else was she going to do to pass the time?
A wave of heat washed through her along with nausea. She glanced at Anuli. “I think you should try to escape without me.” She rested her head against the wall and breathed against the urge to vomit.
Anuli shook her head, like she had the first time Emme'd brought up the idea. They’d discussed escaping together, but neither wanted to leave the other two women.
“No, Emme. They will hurt you
worse if I leave.”
She shook her head. “They would hurt you if I left. They won’t do anything to me if you escape.”
The lock scraped as rusted iron slid against rusted iron. They both looked up. No one came after dinner.
The leader, who she’d started referring to as Bob the Breather, stormed into the room yelling. “Get up! Get up!” His minions grabbed her, spilling her bowl of rice. Pain shot through her as they yanked her up. She tried to get her feet under her to lessen the pull on her shoulder.
What the hell is going on? Fear turned her stomach and she swallowed back the rice that tried to find its way up her throat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Something’s wrong.
Anuli stood and tried to stop them. Minion One hit her in the gut with his gun and pushed her down.
They dragged Emme down the hall and into the room they beat her in. Thrown into the chair, she almost toppled over. One of them tied her hands behind her back, wrenching her shoulder even more.
“What’s going on?” Why were they doing this? Even when they beat her, it was methodical. She knew what to expect and could prepare for it. This was…frantic.
Minion Two picked up the video camera and pointed it at her. Bob the Breather grabbed a rough looking machete from beside the door and hefted it as he approached her.
She struggled against the ropes that bound her wrists, her breathing rapid and out of control. “No.”
“Your government has had their chance to get you back alive. Now they will take us serious. Allahu Akbar.”
“Allahu Akbar,” his minions echoed.
No! A sob tore through her. “Please. They need more time.” It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Why hadn’t they negotiated for her release? Where was the cavalry? The inappropriate part of her brain decided to kick in. This is going to hurt like a bitch. That knife is dull as fuck.
The blade rose over her head. Another sob escaped and she squeezed her eyes closed.
Pleasegod, pleasegod, pleasegod.
God answered her prayer in a violent explosion, sending dust and small chunks of mud plaster raining down on them.
Emma cracked her good eye open and coughed from the dust filling the room. Holy crap, that couldn’t have been timed better if it had been scripted for an action movie. Thank you, god.
Her captors yelled to each other and the leader gestured Minion One out of the room. He yanked the door open and stuck his head out before going into the hall, closing it behind him. Bob and the other minion took up positions facing the door.
The pop pop pop of gunfire could be heard from the hall. Time seemed to slow in anticipation of who would come through the door.
Please let it be the good guys.
The door flew open and she hunched forward as far as possible.
Three shots, followed by two dull thuds. Silence echoed where once there was chaos. She held her breath, afraid to look.
Jordan holstered his Glock and knelt in front of Emme while Westin and Cash checked to make sure the final two captors were out of commission.
Her head drooped, her dirty, lank hair hanging like a curtain. His chest constricted. Fuck, let her be alive.
Colby flicked open a knife and cut her bindings.
Jordan’s fingers trembled as he tilted her chin up. She blinked and relief flooded through him. Even dirty and covered in grime, he recognized her. “Emme Lou Who? Is that you?”
Her weak slap took him by surprise, but it still stung. “That’s my girl.”
“Jordan?”
“Hey, Emme Lou.”
“Quit calling me that, Jingle Balls.”
He grinned. “You ready to go home?”
Tears pooled and spilled over, streaking through the dust and grime on her face. “Yes.” A sob wracked her body.
He brushed away a tear, wishing he had the time to gather her close and brush them all away. “Can you walk?” He stood and helped her up.
“I think so. We need to get Anuli.” She rose and swayed, but kept her feet.
“Who’s Anuli?” Jordan took her left elbow, careful of her right arm hanging limp by her side.
“The nurse who was taken with me. There’s two other girls, too.”
She stumbled and he swept her into his arms. He followed Colby and Jared, depending on them to keep the path clear. They stopped outside the room they’d found the first two girls in, where they’d told the other woman to go to.
One of the women rushed to them. “Miss Emme! You hurt again?”
“I’m okay Anuli. Just light-headed.” Her forehead tucked under his chin was burning up. He held her trembling body closer. Please let this be adrenaline crash and not something more serious.
“Follow the men.” He pointed with his chin. Anuli brushed her hand against Emme’s cheek before following the other two girls.
Westin called over the radio to Rocco for pickup. The small helo set down feet from the destroyed entrance. Colby and Cash ushered the girls toward the helicopter, but they stopped and refused to go further.
“What’s the problem?” Westin asked, impatience evident in his voice.
“They are afraid of the helicopter,” Anuli said. “They think you will take them far away.”
“We just rescued them. Why would we—? Never mind. Tell them we’re taking you back to Gao. They can either go with us or find their own way.”
Jordan carried Emme to the helicopter and laid her down on the litter they’d prepared before take-off. He buckled the straps, ensuring they were snug but not tight.
“You good?” He had to raise his voice over the engine noise. She nodded and closed her eyes as a shiver shook her body. Anuli clambered in behind him and sat cross-legged next to Emme. He grabbed the tether closest to her and snapped it onto his D-ring. Keying up his mic he asked, “What about the other two women?”
Cash answered. “They decided to walk back to their village.” He clipped in next to Jordan and tilted his head toward Anuli. “This one said she’d go with Emme.”
Westin climbed in to the co-pilot seat for the return trip. “Leonidas, come in.”
“Leonidas here.”
“Status check.”
“Good to go. All the girls are loaded up. We’re headed for the U.N. camp in Timbuktu.”
“Roger. Thanks for your help, Graham.”
“Anytime, Westin.”
The flight back to the airfield seemed half as long as the flight out. Euphoria, brought on by adrenaline and the success of the mission, flooded his veins.
He glanced over his shoulder at Emme for the tenth time. Anuli held her hand. She was in better condition than he’d expected based on the video they’d seen, but the fever wasn’t good.
They set down close to the tail of the airplane, the engine shutting down almost immediately. He unhooked from the tether, then unbuckled Emme.
“Mister.” Anuli touched his arm. “Thank you.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He didn’t have time to do more than raise his hands before she let him go and bent over Emme. “Take care, dogomuso. I will always remember you.”
He stopped her as she climbed out of the helicopter. “Will you be all right?”
“Yes. I have family here. They will help me.” She looked back at Emme. “Take care of her. She is very special.” Patting him on his arm, she lowered herself to the ground and walked away.
He picked Emme up and handed her down to a waiting Colby. “She’s passed out and shaking.”
“We’ve got medical supplies on board.” Colby led the way up the rear ramp into the crew area and laid her down on the medevac litter set up on the back wall.
Jordan grabbed the large EMT bag and began pulling out the supplies to run an I.V., setting them up on her legs so Colby had easy access to them. They worked in concert and had Emme hooked up to saline and a broad spectrum antibiotic within minutes.
“Stay with her.” Colby shoved the bag under the bed. “I’m going to help them finish loading the Little Bird.”
&nb
sp; “No, I’ll help load. We’ll get out of here faster.”
They loaded the plane and were wheels up in less than an hour. He dropped into the chair closest to Emme and watched her steady breathing under the blanket tucked around her body, only her head and arm with the I.V. visible.
Exhaustion pressed down on him. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. Fuck. He needed to call her parents.
A hand squeezed his shoulder and he lifted his head. Westin stood over him. “These seats recline almost horizontal. There’s a button on the side.”
Jordan shook his head. “I need to call General France.”
“I sent a message to Parker. He’s going to let them know. It’s an eight-hour flight to Abu Dhabi. Get some sleep.”
He nodded once and looked for the button as Westin strode toward the front of the plane. Reclining the seat, he turned his head to keep Emme in sight as his blinks became longer and longer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emme’s bladder felt like it might explode. She opened her eyes and blinked several times. The opulence of the room was evident, even in the defused light created by the closed blinds and sheer curtains. The cream comforter under her hand was soft and luxurious. Where the hell was she? She closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered was the machete arching above her head and the explosion.
Jordan. She blinked her eyes several times. Was that a dream? How did she get here, wherever ‘here’ was?
Her immediate needs were more pressing. She pushed herself up with one arm, the other immobile against her side. Staring down at the cotton nightgown, she pulled the neck away and peeked at her shoulder. It ached, but no longer hurt like it was out of socket. Someone had wrapped it and taken the extra precaution of securing her arm to her body.
She threw back the covers and swung her feet to the floor, trying to determine which of the three doors was the bathroom. The farthest one likely led out of the room. She swayed for a moment, before finding her balance. Door one led to a large walk-in closet, filled with men’s and women’s clothes. Whose house was she in? That closet was bigger than the bedroom of her first apartment. Shaking her head, she closed the door and tried door number two.
Rescued Heart (Titan World) Page 4
