Paredes, a sergeant and paramedic, quickly looked up after examining Tal’s injured leg. “Yeah. Get my traction splint out of the back of the Cobra, will you, Lieutenant? We’ve got to get this bone back in her leg before we start transport or it’s a no go.” Angel flew into her paramedic pack and located a shot of morphine, which she gave Tal. It would lessen her pain almost immediately.
Jake watched tensely as he sat at his sister’s head, his hands on her shoulders to stabilize her. Tal was moaning now. Her eyes were half-closed and glazed looking. She was weakly flailing her arms. Blood was pumping thickly around the stark white end of her shattered femur.
Jake wanted to cry. He wanted to scream out in rage at what the Kamov had done. Would Tal die? He anxiously watched Angel throw a blood pressure cuff around her arm and take a reading. Judging from the Peruvian woman’s expression, it wasn’t a good one.
Ana came back, panting as she held the traction splint out to Angel. “Tell me what to do, Angel.”
Quickly, Angel told them how to help her. In no time, she had the traction device on Tal’s injured leg. At the count of three, Angel expertly and quickly pulled the femur out of its position and settled it back into Tal’s leg. Tal wasn’t feeling any pain now, thanks to the shot of morphine. She was barely conscious as Angel wrapped the leg, and the three of them, on her count, transferred Tal to the stretcher.
Jake took one end of the stretcher. He saw Ana flinch as she leaned down to take the other end. Her face went ashen. It was then that he realized she, too, was hurt. How bad? He couldn’t tell. Time was of the essence. Tal was unconscious now.
Paredes handed Ana her bag. “You carry this,” she said quickly. Looking at Jake, she reached for the other end of the stretcher. “Let’s saddle up!”
Once inside the tight confines of the Cobra, Jake stayed out of the way as best he could. Paredes slid the door shut and patted the woman helicopter pilot on the shoulder. The sergeant quickly put on her helmet, which was hooked up to the intercabin radio system, and told the pilot to head straight for Cusco. Also to radio ahead and tell the hospital staff they had an incoming emergency flight patient on board and to be ready to receive them on the landing pad. The pilot hitched her thumb upward. Ana climbed between them and sat in the left seat of the Cobra. She donned a helmet, too, and strapped in.
Jake felt the Cobra break contact with the earth. His gaze was riveted on Tal. Angel had covered her with several blankets to keep the shock at bay. She worked frantically over the leg to control the bleeding. She enlisted Jake’s help by having him press the heel of his hand where Tal’s leg connected to her body. It was there that the femoral artery lay, and by putting a lot of pressure on it, they could slow blood supply to that leg and stop some of the continuing blood loss.
The Cobra shook and shuddered as it gained altitude. Jake’s world centered on his pale, shocked-looking sister. Once he looked up between the metal panels to see Ana talking and pointing out the windshield, but because he didn’t have a helmet on, he didn’t know what was being said. Was the Kamov coming after them? He felt his heart pound with another surge of adrenaline at that thought.
How was Ana? She was white-faced, her gold skin leached out. He tried to see if there was blood anywhere else other than her face, but he could see nothing. Yet her full lips were compressed into a tight line. What if Ana had internal injuries? They’d taken a direct rocket attack. Worried for her, Jake felt helpless. He watched as Angel worked with fierce energy and care over his sister. She finally got the bleeding stopped, and told him to release the pressure on Tal’s upper leg.
Taking his hand away, Jake rubbed his face. He was muddy, and a little blood was still leaking out of his nose. Giving the paramedic an inquiring look, he leaned over Tal and yelled, “Is she going to be okay?”
Paredes nodded. She patted him on the shoulder. “What about you? Are you okay?” she yelled back over the din of the chopper blades.
Jake nodded. They had to scream in order to hear one another above the noise created by the shaking, shuddering Cobra. For anyone without a protective helmet on, talking was almost impossible.
“Check out Ana,” he yelled.
“What?” Paredes put her hand to the side of her helmet.
Jake roared, “Ana! She’s hurt!”
Paredes nodded. She tapped her wrist where her watch was. “Twenty minutes to Cusco. Hang on. I’ll take a check on her after we land.”
Ana remained in the Cobra as the medical team from the Cusco hospital placed Tal on a gurney and hurried her in through the back doors to an emergency room. Jake had reached out for her, to ask if she was all right, and Ana had nodded and given him a game smile. Ana had seen the terror and worry in his eyes for his sister, and she’d told him to go with Tal, that she’d be along shortly.
Cam, the pilot, shut off the engine and gave her a cursory look. “Ana? You okay? You look like hell warmed over.”
With a grimace, Ana nodded. “I think I busted some ribs. I’ll be okay….”
“You’d better get in there, then,” Cam said, shutting down all the other systems. “I’ll go with you.”
Ana nodded, knowing there was no reason to wait on the landing pad. The two Apache helicopters would never come to Cusco. Captain Stevenson, who was flying one, had ordered them back to Black Jaguar base, deep in the jungles of Peru.
Cam pulled the helmet off her head, her thick red hair tumbling around her shoulders. Her forest-green eyes were worried looking as she eased out of the tight cockpit and into the cabin. She waited for Ana to unstrap herself and disembark.
Ana found her hands shaking badly. She could barely release the harness. Setting the helmet aside, she slowly got up. Fire arced up through the right side of her rib cage. As she sucked in a breath, the pain increased. All Ana could do was take shallow breaths or risk that awful knifelike pain ripping up her side. Wrapping her hand around her right ribs, she made her way out of the Cobra and onto the concrete slab. They were three hundred feet from the red brick hospital’s entrance.
“Okay?” Cam asked gently as she put her arm around Ana’s waist to steady her.
Ana sighed. “I’ll be okay. Just keep an arm on me, Cam. My knees are starting to feel a little wobbly right now.”
Cam grinned and walked her slowly toward the entrance on the concrete sidewalk that lead from the landing circle. “Hey, if I’d had a Kamov firing a rocket at me, I wouldn’t be feeling very chipper right now, either.”
It hurt to laugh. With a grimace, Ana began to feel the tiredness of the world settle on her shoulders. Every step was a struggle. The adrenaline was leaving her now, and she felt weakness attacking her. The pain in her side increased proportionately when she crept forward with mincing steps, trying to minimize it as much as possible.
As Jake headed down to emergency, he was torn. He wanted to leave Tal’s side and go find Ana, but he didn’t dare. Once Tal was taken into surgery, however, he started to hunt Ana down. He noticed that the hospital was small, clean and efficient. The nursing staff and doctors looked at him in shock as he headed down the sparkling white hall toward the main desk. Jake knew he looked a sight. The mud had dried on his clothes, his face and fingers. And dried blood was caked across his chest.
As he came to the nurses’ station, he saw the red-haired pilot dressed in her black flight suit coming out of a room down the hall. Jake bypassed the desk and headed straight for her. He saw the nurses whispering in lowered voices and pointing at the woman pilot as she stood in the corridor, her helmet dangling from her left hand, her bright, burnished hair loose across her shoulders. She gave him a brisk nod of greeting as he approached.
“Hi, we’ve not been introduced yet. I’m Cam. You’re Jake Travers, right?”
Jake took her hand, finding her grip surprisingly firm. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with an oval face, serious-looking dark green eyes and a slight, friendly smile on her wide mouth. “Yeah, I am. Is Ana in there? I’ve been trying to find out a
bout her, how she is….”
Cam nodded. “Yeah, she’s in there getting her ribs taped up.”
Jake frowned. “Broken ribs?”
“Yeah. She’s gonna be fine, though, so don’t worry.”
“Can I see her?”
Cam’s smile increased. “I’m sure she’d like to see you, Mr. Travers.”
Opening the door, Jake quietly walked in. The nurse was just finishing up the taping and had helped Ana into a light blue gown. She was sitting on the side of a bed, her legs dangling. She looked up. Her face glowed as she saw him.
“Jake!”
Just hearing Ana’s soft voice sent a ribbon of heat through him. Jake managed a lopsided smile and lifted his hand. “I’ve been trying to find you. How are you?”
Ana thanked the nurse and slowly got into bed, pulling the covers up with her left arm. Right now, with her cracked ribs, it hurt to stretch out her right arm. “I’m doing better.” Ana saw that he was still muddy and bloodied from their standoff with the Kamov. “I’ll bet people are looking at you funny.” She managed a one-cornered smile.
“I probably look like death walking the halls.” Jake halted near her bed. He waited until the nurse was gone. Ana was clean. She’d taken a shower, her dark hair thick and damp around her shoulders. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes and he could tell she was in pain by the way her lips were compressed.
There was so much he wanted to say to her, and time didn’t seem to be on their side. Opening his muddy hand, Jake said, “Broken ribs?”
“Yes. When the Kamov fired the rocket, it blasted us into the air. I lost consciousness as we were going up. When I woke up, I was lying across a small tree trunk.” She tenderly touched her ribs. “That’s when I think I fractured them.” Her brows fell. “Enough of me. What about your sister? How’s Tal doing?” Ana saw the grimness in Jake’s eyes and the deep crease marks bracketing his mouth. She reached out and slid her fingers into his, not caring if he was clean or dirty. She needed to feel him, to have him near.
“They have her in surgery right now.” Giving her fingers a slight squeeze, he released her. “I’m dirty, Ana.” What he’d like to do was kiss the hell out of her. Right now, Jake needed her like he’d never needed another woman before. He saw the tender look in her eyes, and saw that she wanted to kiss him, too. Rubbing his face, his beard stiff beneath his fingertips, he muttered, “Let me find a hotel near here. I need to get cleaned up. I’ve put a call in to Morgan Trayhern at Perseus for help. The surgeon said that Tal is going to need a specialist. I don’t want her recovering here in Peru. I want to take her home, to the States.”
Ana’s heart fell. Pain ravaged her chest and she avoided his dark, exhausted gaze. “Y-yes…Tal should go home…and you with her. She’s going to need you, Jake. What she just went through…well, I know how close you two are and she’s going to need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on….”
Jake nodded wearily. “Listen, so much has happened…. I just don’t have the time right now to talk more, Ana.” He searched her grave face. “Do you understand?”
Ana understood clearly. Nodding, she compressed her lips and whispered, “Jake, go see your sister. Be with her. Right now, Tal needs you.” Reaching out, Ana settled her hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. Her heart ached. Whatever was between them would be left unspoken. It wasn’t the right time or place for such a discussion. “I’ll be okay.”
Standing there for a moment, Jake realized that whatever problems he’d had with Ana’s warrior side were laid to rest. She’d proved herself to him in the fire of combat. Still in a state of shock over her bravery and cool thinking during the Kamov attack, he realized that all facets of Ana made her who she was. He needed her. All of her, without any more questioning. She was a woman. She could be his wife. Mother to his children. A fierce, confident warrior who would fight at his side through all of life’s ups and downs. His trust of Ana was solid. She had proved to him that women belonged in combat just as men did. Without her help out there earlier, Tal would be dead—and so would he. Aching to speak to her, Jake moved away from her bed. Time wasn’t on their side. At least, not yet.
Chapter Nine
Ana tried to console herself as she lay somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. If she tried to breathe deeply, her right side felt like it was on fire. Luckily, the ribs she’d cracked were at the base of her rib cage and therefore could be wrapped. The tight adhesive bandage helped a great deal, but breathing deeply wasn’t in the cards.
The private room she was in was quiet. Pale blue curtains hung over a window that had venetian blinds drawn across it, and slats of early afternoon sunlight filtered in, making her feel a bit better. There was a television on the wall but she didn’t feel like watching it. No, her heart, her mind, were centered on Jake—and how she felt about him. He’d hesitantly left her side hours ago.
How could she have fallen in love with him? Ana lay there picking nervously at the light blue coverlet, her brows knitted. She barely knew Jake, and yet he’d risked his life for her and his sister. He was a man of valor and of honor. Compressing her lips, Ana felt restless. The last place she wanted to be was in bed. And how was Tal? Was she out of surgery yet, after that awful leg fracture she’d suffered? Ana imagined Jake walking the halls outside the surgery lounge, worried sick about his sister.
“Enough of this,” Ana muttered, dragging off the covers. Her muddy clothes had been washed, dried, and now hung in the closet. Moving gingerly, her hand pressed protectively against her fractured ribs, Ana opened the door. She couldn’t stand being in bed. She had to find out about Tal…and she wanted to be with Jake. Reaching for the hanger that held her clothes, Ana grimaced. Maya wouldn’t let her fly with broken ribs. She would be grounded for six weeks. That didn’t make her feel any better, because her sister pilots would have to fill in for her. That would put even more pressure and demand on them than they already had. And Ana knew from the years she’d spent at the base helping Maya that the work was demanding and tiring.
As she dragged her clothes off the hanger, one article at a time, Ana grimaced. Her friends would have to carry her part of the flight load, and that made her feel worse. They were all flying too much and not getting enough rest. Sleep deprivation was an evil that hung over the base and was a constant threat to their alertness. Out there in the skies over the jungle, the Kamovs just waited to jump them. And a pilot tired because of too much time on duty could make deadly mistakes. Exhaustion could make the pilot vulnerable to attack—and in danger of dying.
Unhappily, Ana struggled out of the light blue gown and into her clothes. Leaning over to try and lace up her muddy hiking boots was the hardest part. Looking in the mirror in the bathroom, she saw that her hair was now dry. Managing to awkwardly lift the brush with her left hand she brushed her dark black hair until it shone with reddish highlights and lay like a soft, luxuriant cloak around her shoulders.
Turning, she felt her heart lift momentarily. Just the thought of being with Jake once again made Ana feel better. She couldn’t jerk the heavy door open. Instead, she used her left hand to get it ajar, then wedged her boot between it and the jamb. Eventually she got it open enough to slip out to the highly polished, white-tiled hall. The odor of antiseptic filled the air, and Ana wrinkled her nose, hating the smell. She didn’t like hospitals, either. She walked slowly and carefully down the hall, holding her side with her hand.
Jake was pouring himself a fifth cup of coffee from the urn in the surgery lounge when he heard someone enter. Thinking it was the surgeon finally come to see him, he turned, then froze momentarily. Ana stood at the entrance, her brow wrinkled, her eyes dark with pain. He set the cup down.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he demanded.
Ana smiled slightly. Jake had showered, shaved and was now in a set of newly purchased clothes: a pair of jeans and a gray-and-brown alpaca sweater, which outlined his magnificent shoulders and chest. Ana’s heart thudded in her breast. Her chalina was
now clean and dry, and he was wearing it around his neck. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hope that it meant something, a symbol. But did it really? Jake was norteamericano and even though he knew the chalina custom, that didn’t mean he was committed as a man from South America might be if he wore it. “I’m not a bed kind of person. How’s Tal? Have you heard anything yet?” Ana moved into the room, toward where Jake was standing. She saw the worry in his eyes and knew it was for his sister.
“No,” he grumped. How beautiful Ana looked. Aside from the tension around her mouth and her hand pressed against her injured side, no one would be able to tell what she’d gone through just hours before. Yet Jake knew she must still be in shock over all of it, just as he was. “It’s been three hours. What the hell are they doing in there?”
Ana gave him a tender look. Jake’s hands were shaking badly as he put sugar into the cup of coffee. His mouth was a tight slash and his broad brow was deeply furrowed, out of concern for Tal, she knew. Reaching out with her left hand, Ana felt driven to touch Jake’s upper arm. She needed to touch Jake. The alpaca sweater was soft beneath her fingertips.
“She’s going to be okay. I feel it in my heart, Jake. It was a bad break. The doctors probably had a lot of bone splinters and fragments to search for. At least, that’s what Angel mentioned just before we landed. And there was a lot of dirt in her wound. They probably have to flush it again and again to make sure there isn’t one iota of debris left, or it will cause massive infection. They’re going to take their time.” She patted him gently.
Almost miraculously, Ana saw Jake’s mouth soften at the corners and his brow smooth out a bit. It had never occurred to her until now just how much she could affect him. It made her feel good. Ana forced herself to stop touching him.
“I could use some coffee, too, please?”
Jake gave her a sidelong glance. “Sure. Milk? Sugar?”
“Both.”
“We’re still running on raw adrenaline,” he muttered as he poured coffee into the paper cup.
Man with a Mission Page 13
