She grinned. “Yes. Now impress me. Tell me you can stitch that shut.” She pointed toward the horizontal gash.
“I can.” Matt gave her a proud look. “Every time we rotate back to the States, we renew our medical skills. I’ve even got lidocaine in here. Aren’t you the lucky one? You won’t have to sit there in pain while I play seamstress to your knee.”
Her heart burst with love for this man as he teased her. The way his lips lifted away from his even, white teeth made her smile. “I’m impressed.”
“Well,” Matt warned, moving to her right knee, “don’t be just yet. Let’s see if I can make the stitches even and pretty-looking.”
A laugh bubbled out of her, and Dara suddenly felt less fear, less terror. Matt had a way of relieving her worries. The right knee was bruised and swollen, but there were no major cuts, just scratches that would heal on their own. To her surprise, he dug into his rucksack and came out with chemical ice packs. He put one on each knee to bring down some of the swelling.
“Are you Delta guys all like this?”
Matt sat on his heels as he pushed thread through a needle eye. Then, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Like what?”
“You.”
“We’re trained in many areas,” he said.
“Because you’re black ops?”
“We go into places most people will never go,” Matt said, knotting the thread at one end after several tries with the gloves on. “If we get wounded or injured, it’s up to us to do as much as we can medically for the victim until we can get a medevac flown in to take him out.”
“What you’re doing right now”—she gestured around the cave—“is this normal activity for you?”
He laughed a little while doing some serious cleanup of the injured area before spraying the lidocaine into the gash. “What? Humping mountains? We do that all the time. We’re part mountain goat, sweetheart.”
“Because you’re going after bad guys?”
“Some bad guys. HVTs—high-value targets—are our mainstay. These are really bad people who don’t deserve to walk this earth because they’ve killed or maimed so many innocent people, Afghans and Paks alike.”
Dara sighed and relaxed against the wall, watching as he set the needle and thread aside. If she didn’t know he wasn’t a medical doctor, Matt would have completely fooled her. He handled the tools like a pro. He then he gently palpated around the wound to ensure the lidocaine had deadened the area so she wouldn’t feel the stitching that would follow.
Matt was gentle, a true warrior with the heart of a lion, and yet, his touch was tender. Tears filled her eyes and Dara looked away, swallowing several times.
“Okay,” Matt urged, “just relax while I close this up for you. You shouldn’t feel a thing.”
“You sound just a like a doctor speaking to a hurt child.”
He met her eyes and smiled a little. “I hardly see you as a child.”
Even as exhausted and shocked as she was, his burning gaze melted the ice within her, dissolving it and replacing it with an intense yearning. She watched Matt bend over the injury, concentrating on doing the best job he could, his fingers on either side of the wound, closing it as he carefully stitched it up. She couldn’t feel a thing and that was good. Matt would laugh if she told him she had a low threshold for pain.
“Matt?”
“Hmm?”
“We will get out of this?”
“Absolutely.”
“Alive?”
His mouth quirked. “You shoulda been a lawyer, Dara.”
She laughed and placed her hand against her lips. “I love your sense of humor.”
“It gets pretty black when things go sideways,” he assured her, placing one stitch after another, his whole focus on his work.
“So, on a scale of one to ten, how black is your humor right now?”
He chuckled quietly.
“I’d like to know. Really.”
“I’m sure you would. Because if I give it a numerical assignment and it’s above five, you’re going to throw yourself into nonstop worry. Am I right?” Matt lifted his gaze, his eyes drilling into hers for a moment before he returned to the task of stitching.
“Yes,” she admitted sourly.
“Look, we’re safe here for the time being. As long as that blizzard continues, nothing is going to move outside or around us.” He quickly tied off the last stitch, giving it a pleased look. “There. How does that feel?”
She stared at her knee, which he had cupped in his one large hand. “It’s all numb.”
“No pain, though?”
She shook her head. “Just like you promised. You sure missed your calling, Matt. Those stitches are excellent. You’d be a wonderful doctor.”
“I’ve always like helping people,” he admitted, brushing antibiotic ointment across the stitches. He placed a loose dressing over it, completely taping it up across the edges so no dirt or anything other debris could reach the area of the injury. “Well,” he amended, giving her a warm look as he pulled off the gloves and dropped them into his rucksack, “I like protecting women and children against predatory males. I’ve done a lot of work with KNR in this country.”
“Kidnapping and ransom?”
“Yes.” He put all the used items into a Ziploc bag and placed it into a Velcro compartment. Gently moving his fingers around her right knee after removing the chemical ice pack, he said, “There’s a lot of KNR that goes on in the Middle East. It’s epidemic. I’ve seen what it does to the family who has a little daughter stolen by the Taliban. The children are then held in caves here in Afghanistan. They’re physically examined and photos are taken of them, the information and pictures sent to potential buyers anywhere in the world. The slave traders use high-tech satellite phones and laptops and can send the info and photos globally. Some of the kidnapped victims are auctioned off to the highest bidder. By the time these children or young women are led out of the cave system, they’ve already been sold, money has changed hands, and they’re on their way across the border and into Pakistan. There’s a huge sex-trafficking network in Pakistan that acts as a major nerve center for such human trade. It’s pretty sickening. And my team and I do a lot of work to stop this from happening. We’re successful, but we need so many more organizations and a global effort to stop this shit.”
His mouth tightened as he took a salve from his pack and used his finger to place the ointment along the scratches on her other knee after cleaning and sterilizing the area. “I’ve seen the parents collapse and the other children feel guilty because they couldn’t stop the theft of their little sister or brother. There’s a ripple effect through the entire family of aunts, uncles, and grandparents. And then the village suffers and is grieving and angry and wants revenge.” He blew out a breath. “I’ve gotten so I look forward to the KNRs that we’re called on to assist in. Sometimes we go undercover into Pakistan, hunt down the child or teenager, locate and rescue them.” His eyes grew dark as he applied the salve to some scratches around her left knee.
“These children are always under the age of eighteen. What was sexually done to them? You see it in their eyes. They’re robotic. They’re out of their bodies because they don’t want to feel what was done to them again and again. We bring them home to their villages, to their parents, and of course there’s a huge celebration.”
Matt’s voice dropped as he screwed the lid on the salve and placed it in another pocket within the ruck. “But what about the child? They’re dazed. They’re traumatized. They need to cry. They need so much damn therapy and help, but there’s nothing out here in this desolate third-world country to help them recover.” Shaking his head, Matt took a cloth and wet it, wiping off his hands.
“That’s why you’re looking forward to working the KNR division within Artemis Security?”
He gave her a grim look. “In spades, believe me. In some respects, because Dad is an Air Force general and has two brothers of the same rank in other branches, so we’ll
have the military backing us when we need them. We’ll send in a civilian security team of men or women to find the KNR, but if things go sideways, we have the U.S. military as a backup, and hopefully, they can pull us out of the op if we can’t do it on our own. We can usually succeed in achieving a rescue with a positive outcome.”
Dara leaned forward, touching the white dressing on her knee. “It sounds like the work you’ll accomplish at Artemis is really going to help these poor children around the world.”
“It will give me a great deal of satisfaction to take down these predatory, sick bastards. I’ll stay at home and give the field team their orders and the information they need.” He put the damp cloth in another plastic bag, tucking it into the ruck. “I’m tired of doing this Delta work, to tell you the truth. I’ve seen too much for too long.”
Matt shrugged and looked out the opening in the ceiling, the snowflakes thick and heavy as they fell inside. “I want some positive outcomes to these KNRs, Dara. Delos has the financial clout behind it to not only rescue these innocent victims but also be there for them after they’ve returned home so they can get the care they really need to take back control of their lives. That’s what I like about this new job I’m going to be doing. I’m hoping to be in on a lot more happy endings.”
CHAPTER 13
Dara studied Matt in the growing silence as he put everything away in his ruck. He sat down, spread out another small blanket, and began to clean his rifle. His hands moved with such swift, knowing ease as he dismantled it, oiled it, and put it back together again that she was amazed.
“How are they feeling?” he asked, glancing at her knees as he wiped down his rifle.
“Better.”
“How much better?”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “About twenty percent better. The swelling is down, thanks to those ice packs you put on them.”
“I wish I had more. I pack four to a ruck. We can do it one more time.”
“Do you have ibuprofen on you?”
Matt set the rifle against the wall and stood up, pulling the ruck over. “I should have thought to give you some because that lidocaine must be wearing off,” he said apologetically.
“There’s a lot going on, Matt. It’s okay.”
He pulled out the bottle and dropped two into her open palm. Uncapping a bottle of water and handing it to her, he said, “These are eight hundred milligrams. They should help a lot.”
“They will,” Dara said, popping the pills and slugging the water down. Capping it, she handed it back to him. “How are you doing, Matt? You’re the one carrying all the heavy loads here, the responsibility.” She could see the concern deep in his eyes and could almost read his thoughts about all the issues he had to consider in order to save their lives.
“I’m okay,” he reassured her, frowning.
“And you wouldn’t tell me the truth if you weren’t.” He shot her an appreciative look, then winked, and her heart melted. Now she knew where his mind was, and she grinned.
Matt was her only defense against being found by the Taliban, and she knew that if they were captured, it wouldn’t be good. Even as a civilian, she knew that, but she had no experience beyond that to imagine what could happen to them.
Matt was an enemy combatant. Would they kill him? Keep her? And then what? Torture her? Rape her? Sell her like the little girls and boys kidnapped and taken across the Pakistan border as sex slaves? She shivered; there was nothing good about any of the possibilities and Dara struggled not to mention them.
Matt rose and moved over to her. He knelt beside Dara’s right hip, framing her face with his hands. Leaning over, he caressed her lips gently, tasting her, feeling her immediate response. Lifting his mouth away, he growled, “I want you. I keep thinking about the other night in bed with you. I want more, Dara. A helluva lot more.” He captured her mouth again, opening her, deepening the kiss, allowing his feelings to be a part of it. He heard a soft sound in the back of her throat, her hands automatically sliding around his shoulders, pulling him as close as she possibly could.
His whole body, as tired as he was, reacted powerfully to her eager, hungry returning kiss. Their breathing changed. He slid his hands into her loosened hair, feeling the silky strands flowing through his fingers. There was so much he hid from her in that moment, but he could give her his heart. Matt knew they couldn’t make love with one another. It would be stupid, for starters, and her knees were in rough shape. More than anything, as he kissed her moist, willing lips, Matt knew he had to keep Dara focused on positive things, not what could happen to them if they were captured.
“Listen to me,” he rasped against her lips, “you and I? We’ve got a date at my condo in Alexandria this Christmas.” He sat back on his heels, taking her hands in his, holding her luminous, aroused gaze. He could feel Dara quiver and knew that she was trying so hard to put on a brave face. Even though she didn’t have a military understanding of what was happening, she knew full well they were in the life-and-death zone. And she was handling it stoically, much like a doctor who was attending at a massive disaster and was triaging her patients.
Dara could think above the fray, and that was serving both of them in this case. She was no wilting hothouse flower. She had a lot of hidden strength that Matt was now seeing as never before.
“I like that idea,” Dara agreed in a whisper, squeezing his hands.
“Well, hold on to it, because it’s going to happen.”
“Why don’t you tell me a story?” she asked suddenly.
Matt grinned. “What kind of story?” he asked, releasing her hands and settling down beside her. Dara leaned against the cave wall, and he made sure the blanket covering her long legs was in place to keep her warm.
“Tell me about your growing-up years. You said you spent your summer vacations in Kuşadası? I’ve never been to Turkey. When you went over there the first time, what was it like? What excited you or caught your interest?”
“That’s easy—how beautiful the Aegean Sea is,” he murmured, moving his hand lightly across her covered right thigh. “When my father was stationed in Istanbul with NATO, my mother flew to her home in Kusadasi, to birth us. I don’t remember those times, but often, Mom would fly home on weekends to be with her family with Tal, me and Alexa with her. I was probably six years old, and I remember my mother taking all us kids out on the marble portico of Uncle Ihsan’s villa and seeing that deep, deep blue water. I was mesmerized by it.”
“Were you a water baby, I wonder?”
“Very much so. But so were Tal and Alexa. We were all guppies.” Matt chuckled fondly recalling those times. He knew Dara needed this distraction, to think about something positive instead of something dangerous and life-threatening.
He continued, “Usually, on the second day after we arrived, my mother and all three aunts took us kids down to the beach. We were in heaven. I loved building sand castles, and Alexa loved holding Mom’s hand and walking with her along the edge of the surf. Tal was knee-deep in the water, wanting to go farther out, driving Mom crazy. Tal is a type A, big time, and she wanted to strike out and swim. But Mom wouldn’t let her, so Tal came over and helped me build my castle.”
“What else did you do there?”
“My aunts and uncles all had daily plans for us kids. They had a horse stable behind their villa, so we went riding a couple of times a week. We all loved it. Alexa and I were too young to ride, but Mom would take her into the saddle and ride with her. One of my uncles would ride and put me in front of him and off we would go. We would drive to the national park south of Kuşadası. Or we’d go to Ephesus, an important city at one time for ancient Greece and Rome. I loved scouting the ruins, the temples, and was in awe of all of it. Did you know that at one time, the goddess Artemis was the most popular goddess in Greek culture? She was called Diana by the Romans.”
“I didn’t know that,” Dara admitted. “I always think of Greek Zeus and Hera being the king and queen of the gods and goddesses.�
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“My Turkish ancestors on my mother’s side named their shipping line back in the twelfth century after the goddess Artemis. In Turkey, she was the reigning goddess, not Zeus or Hera.”
“Well,” Dara said, “they named the shipping company after the right goddess. Their shipping line is still thriving to this day.”
“My Turkish family believes in the power of the old gods and goddesses. Even though most of them are Sufi, they also embrace the older religion of Artemis. As a matter of fact,” Matt said, smiling, “all three of my uncles’ villas in Kuşadası have an atrium devoted to Artemis. My aunts put fresh flowers on a small altar to her every day. And if flowers aren’t in season, they leave offerings of honey cakes for her.”
“I love that your family has those kinds of deep, ancient roots. I can’t even begin to imagine having a shipping company created back in the twelfth century and here, in the twenty-first century, it’s flourishing as a strong, global leader.”
“My uncles would tell you it’s Artemis blessing them.” He shrugged. “And who am I to dispute that?”
“Did your mother raise the three of you in that ancient tradition?”
“Well,” Matt said, a smile tipping his mouth, “as you can imagine, we’re an amalgam of Turkish, Greek, and American influences. My father is Christian. My mother doesn’t claim any particular religion, preferring instead to educate us in all religions. She calls herself spiritual, not from any particular faith.” He became somber. “One of the reasons she exposed us to all the major religions was that she said they all believed in and embraced the power of love. She believes that love is the greatest healer, the harbinger of peace for our battered world. And of course, that’s true. We grew up appreciating all the belief systems. We’re more spiritual than religious. You don’t have to be from a particular religion to be kind, compassionate, and of service to the world in some way.”
“I would imagine with your Turkish side of the family being Sufi and Muslim, you could understand the people of Afghanistan much better than most.”
Forged in Fire (Delos Series Book 3) Page 18
