by Trish Loye
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been moving down the road when she noticed the moon had set. Her body ached from running, but she reveled in those aches. She was free and she intended to stay that way. The farther from the prison she got, the more confidence she began to feel.
She squinted ahead. Was the sky lightening? She pulled off her NVGs and blinked to adjust her eyes to the shadowy gray world around her. Dawn must be close. She needed to get deep into the woods before daybreak. It had been awhile since she’d stopped to listen, so she slowed her steps and stopped, breathing through her mouth to quiet herself. No sounds.
She was about to start running again when her brain clicked. No sounds. She froze. Not even the scurrying of squirrels or the hoot of an owl. Her heart rate gained speed like a car accelerating on a track. It was normal not to hear night sounds, she reasoned. Don’t panic. She should move to the dark shadows between the trees; she was completely visible where she stood.
Something flickered in the trees and ice rushed through her veins. Was that movement? A whisper of sound came from the road behind her. Was someone behind her?
Adrenaline flooded her system, freezing her.
Crack!
Gunshot. Cassie bolted. She sprinted down the road as fast as she dared in the predawn darkness.
Crack!
The trees. She had to get in the trees. She veered toward the forest, used her forearms as a shield and crashed into the woods.
Derrick ran through the trees along the road, moving quickly through his search area thanks to his NVGs. He wasn’t sure how Cassie was managing in the dark. He prayed she hadn’t decided to hunker down somewhere until daylight. It was too big of an area for them to search all the hidey-holes around the prison. But she couldn’t have made it this far.
He decided to head back and restart his search. He was about to key his mic to call in his location when he heard something. He sunk into a crouch and scanned the area behind him. The noise had come from that direction. Could he have passed her?
He shifted to get a better look and spotted someone slight moving parallel to him. Hope speared him. He stood, craned his head, and tensed even as he swore silently. Two people with rifles. Not Cassie, but guards from the prison.
They spoke quietly as they walked what must be a regular route for them. They reached the road and turned in to the woods, toward him. Options played out in his mind. He could stay still and let them pass, or he could take them out. The biggest factor was Cassie. Was she behind them or ahead? If she was behind, then he should let them pass. If she was ahead, then it would be smarter to take them out.
But if they had to report in regularly and they didn’t…
He gritted his teeth. Cassie was on the line. He couldn’t afford to take any kind of chance. He lifted his rifle and pulled the trigger once. Twice.
The crack of the shots echoed in the quiet night. His comms came alive. “Bravo team,” Sarah said. “Sitrep.”
“This is Bravo One,” he replied. “Two tangos down. All clear.”
“Has the package been found?”
“Negati—” The cracking of branches ahead stopped him. “Wait out.” He ran ahead, his NVGs allowing him to navigate the woods, sidestepping trees. Whoever was ahead of him didn’t have that advantage. He increased his speed, impatience overruling caution. Was it Cass?
A figure ran blindly through the woods ahead, their arms held in front of them as they crashed through the trees. A petite figure but wearing a pack. It had to be Cassie.
He keyed his mic. “This is Bravo One. Securing the package now.”
“Hawk, you have company. Two tangos moving in your direction.”
Shit. They must be coming to investigate his gunshots.
He sprinted after Cassie and called her name. A distressed sound came from her and she ran faster. She must not know who he was. Fuck. He hated the thought of scaring her further in her petrified state. He slung his rifle as he ran, pumping his legs hard, gathering speed, and prepared to grab her.
“Cassie, stop!” he said as loud as he dared.
A muffled shriek was his answer. If there were any guards in the area, then they’d have heard that. He had to secure her now.
Sorry, Little Wolf.
She careened off a tree and before she could adjust her course, he snatched her. She gasped, sucking in air to scream. He covered her mouth, muffling her noises, and pulled her tight against his chest. She was too light, even with a pack on her back, her struggles ineffective against his strength. Rage lit inside him, wondering how much she’d struggled like this in the past few days. He was going to teach her how to defend herself properly, whether she wanted him to or not.
“It’s me, Cassie. You’re safe. It’s Derrick. Cass, it’s Derrick.” He kept repeating the words, holding her tight and spoke into her ear until her struggles quieted and then died away. Her breath hitched and a sob came from her.
Oh, Cassie. He lowered her to her feet but kept his arms around her even as she turned in them. “I’ve got you.”
“Derrick?” Her voice was soft and hoarse. “Is it really you?”
He brought his hands to cradle her face and felt the wetness on her cheeks. He swallowed hard. “It’s me, Cassie. I’m here to help you get home.”
She leapt onto his chest, her arms tightening around his neck in a stranglehold, her words just a whisper on the night air. “You came for me.”
“I’ll always come for you,” he breathed, squeezing her back. Cassie. In his arms. Alive and safe. Her body shuddered against his, as silent sobs wracked her. He held her and kept whispering that he had her, she was safe with him, he’d get her home. Promises meant to reassure both of them. Her grip on him eased and he stroked her hair before giving in to his need and kissing her. Just a quick pressing of lips, the briefest of touches to anchor him and make a promise to her.
Her hand drifted to his face. “Derrick,” she breathed. A smile broke through her tear-stained face.
God, he wanted to kiss her again, but now wasn’t the time or the place.
As if on cue, his radio came to life in his ear. “Bravo One, this is Bravo Three. Incoming tangos.”
“Roger,” he said quietly. “Cassie. We need to move now.”
She nodded, but her hands didn’t leave his shoulders. He took one and set it on the back of his webbing belt. “Hold on to me here. I’ll guide you.” He unslung his rifle and gave Cassie’s hand a final squeeze before he started east. “Bravo Three, this is Bravo One. Moving east to the RV.”
“Copy that. Bravo Three out.”
Cassie stayed silent behind him as they walked. He couldn’t even hear her breathing. Without her hand on his belt, he wouldn’t have known she was there. They traveled at a good pace and it wasn’t long before they hit the rendezvous location.
Sarah and Marc waited for them. Dante approached a moment later.
“Bad news,” Dante said. “The whole place is fired up and patrols are getting ready to move out.”
Cassie tensed beside him, as if she would run. He ran a hand down her arm, trying to reassure her without words. He wouldn’t let them get her, even if he had to kill half the Korean army and create an international incident. He looked at his team. “We keep moving.”
“Even if she could run,” Sarah said, “we won’t make the exfil.”
“Agreed,” Derrick said. “Call it in.”
Sarah switched comms channels and then began speaking in a low voice on the radio.
“Charlie Four, this is Bravo Three, over.” She paused. “This is Bravo Three. We will not make exfil. New exfil required. I repeat, new exfil required.”
Sarah shook her head at whatever she heard next. “You will not wait, Cowboy.”
Ah. Dylan Richards, their best helicopter pilot, was on the radio. He’d be the one picking up Dr. French and Charlie team in the remote mountain location in—he checked his watch—two hours. Cassie swayed on her feet next to him. Sarah had been right. There would be no
way they’d be making that exfil. But he’d known that was a good possibility when he’d decided to search for Cassie.
He took Cassie’s backpack and handed her back her small daypack when she reached for it. He sorted through the contents of the large bag, pulling out the extra food and anything else they might need and shoving it into his pack. Then he hid the pack under a bush. There wasn’t anything in it that she needed badly enough to slow her down.
Sarah was still talking. “I repeat, you will not wait. The asset is too important.” She grimaced at whatever Dylan had replied.
“We will make it out. Have faith in us, Cowboy.” By her tone, Derrick wasn’t entirely sure she was referring to the team. “Find us a new exfil.” She nodded and smiled, a rare occurrence for the quiet operator. “Affirmative. I trust you. Ghost out.”
She clicked off and nodded at him. “We’re good to go, Hawk.”
“Let’s move.”
14
The world blurred as Cassie let Derrick take the lead. She held his belt like a lifeline while reality buffeted her like a storm-tossed sea. They ran through the woods. Trees took shape on either side of her as she followed Derrick’s steps. The forest became a surreal smear of bark, leaves, and shadows.
Her body numbed to the aches inflicted on it. Just keep moving. Keep running. Or at least she tried to run. She was no longer sure how fast she moved, or whether she moved at all.
She frowned and looked at her feet. She blinked, surprised she could see them. The sun must have risen. How long had they been hurrying through the woods? Minutes? Hours? Days? She struggled to focus.
A small voice inside her told her she should drink something. Her body had gone too long without water, food, or rest. She shuddered. She couldn’t drink. She didn’t want to feel water sloshing in her mouth, filling it too full. Drowning.
She gasped and straightened. She was in the woods. There was no water, no torturers. Derrick was here. She’d escaped. Her shoulders relaxed and her breathing evened out.
They stopped. Derrick stood beside her, scanning ahead. She leaned against a tree but she hadn’t loosened her hold on him. Her fingers were long past cramping.
She must have made a noise because he turned to look at her. His lips moved and she tilted her head. His strong jaw and the hard planes of his face had been smeared with camouflage paint, making him look dangerous and almost unrecognizable, but she’d recognize those eyes anywhere. “I’ve always loved your eyes.”
He frowned and said something. She couldn’t catch the words. What was happening to her? Had she finally lost her grip on reality? Perhaps she was back in the prison with the guards torturing her and her fractured mind had dreamed up an escape. Because Derrick was here and that didn’t seem possible. But she’d take this dream over harsh reality; she’d take it and hold it tight. She lifted a hand and touched his cheek. He felt real.
His hand came up and held hers to his cheek. He mouthed something. Stay with me.
Stay with him? Of course she’d stay with him. She laughed. Why would she go back to the prison? Silly man.
Derrick called something over his shoulder and then he pressed her to sit. She did, gratefully, sighing as she sank her exhausted body to the ground, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree. Sunlight filtered through the overarching branches, dappling the ground around them. Beautiful. Much nicer than prison.
Derrick smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He held a tube to her mouth. Drink, he mouthed.
Her skin prickled at the sight of the tube, but she took it and placed it in her mouth. Derrick squeezed the hydration bladder and water flowed into her mouth, the wet coolness of it both a balm and a torture. Her heart beat fast and hard as a dark wave of memories welled up. She swallowed convulsively, even as she tore the tube from her mouth, gasping, choking, reliving.
She panted air while she could, knowing the reprieve wouldn’t last long. A dull roar filled her ears. Derrick’s face was in front of hers. His hands came up and held her head, her name on his lips.
No! They always held her head before the water came. She must be dreaming. She was still back in prison. She closed her eyes against the sight of the man her mind had conjured to save her. No. No. No. She had to save herself.
She huddled up, pulling in on herself.
What was real?
“What the fuck?” Derrick muttered. His insides twisted as he watched Cassie twist away from him, her eyes closed and her face tormented. Now that it was light out, he could see the bruises on her face and rage simmered in him at what she’d been through.
Sarah knelt next to him. “The water,” she said softly, nodding at the tube still in his hand. “It triggered her.” Sarah’s face said it all—stony countenance and a compassion-filled gaze. Sarah had once been captured by the enemy.
A vise tightened around his chest. He knew of the torture methods the North Koreans used. “Waterboarding?” he asked softly.
Sarah nodded. “Or something similar.”
Fuck. They’d waterboarded her and beaten her. Why hadn’t he been there? He lashed himself for not getting there faster. He felt Cassie’s forehead. Clammy, cool. She continued to mutter and whimper.
“She’s dehydrated and exhausted,” he said. “She needs fluids.”
“We don’t have time to help her deal with her trauma,” Sarah said, indicating the water tube.
“We have to make time.” Derrick glanced around. They needed real shelter to deal with this, but this tight knot of trees within the forest would have to do. Marc and Dante had set themselves up to watch the woods around them. They hadn’t seen pursuit yet, so they could stop for a break. “Get Gears. We’ll stop here while we hydrate her.”
Sarah exchanged places with Dante, who carried the large med pack.
“What do you need, Hawk?” He squatted down next to them.
“Hook her up with a bag of fluids. We need her hydrated fast.”
Dante nodded and began efficiently unpacking what he needed from his kit, while Derrick coaxed Cassie to give him her arm. He drew up her sleeve and winced at the raw welts and bruises around her wrist from where she must have struggled against her bonds. Fury burned him from the inside out. What had they done to her? He should have gotten here sooner. He should have saved her.
“Cassie,” he said softly, holding her arm while Dante cleaned it. “You’re going to feel a little prick. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” He kept talking to her while Dante inserted the IV. She stiffened when the needle went in, but she let them do it. Dante stood and held the bag high to get it to flow.
Once it was done, Cassie went limp in Derrick’s arms and his heart stopped.
He must have made a sound because Dante gripped his shoulder. “It’s okay, Hawk. She’s just sleeping. Stay with her. We’ll watch and let you know if anyone comes close.”
He nodded, but didn’t take his gaze from Cassie’s face. He couldn’t have spoken even if he’d wanted to. Emotions shot through him like crusaders on a smoke-filled battlefield: Rage at the soldiers who’d tortured her. Relief she was alive. Sadness for the trauma she’d endured. And an emotion he couldn’t name but made him hold her tight in his arms and not let her go. The emotions warred silently while his team watched over them and he continued to cradle Cassie to his chest.
Why had she come here? He wasn’t going to let her do something so dangerous again. She wasn’t his girlfriend, nor anyone he had any right to order around, but dammit, she was the mother of his child. A child she hadn’t bothered to tell him about. He squeezed her tighter to him. Her skin was still too cold, too clammy. Come on, Cassie.
He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he wouldn’t let her follow a dangerous story like this again. At least not alone. What the fuck was she thinking, coming here alone?
He rocked her closer to him. No more chasing news stories alone. He would go with her the next time she decided to investigate something high-risk. The woman did too many things on
her own. She was going to have to learn to deal with him protecting her. He knew his thoughts were turning caveman-like, but he couldn’t help it. The slight woman in his arms needed his protection.
Her hand reached up and clutched his shirt. “Derrick?”
Something inside him that had been stretched too tight loosened at the sound of her voice. He smoothed back her hair from her face. Her eyes blinked against the sunlight.
“Hey, Little Wolf. You’ve come back to us.” His voice sounded hoarse, even to him.
“I...left?”
A strangled laugh escaped him. “You dehydrated yourself so much that we had to give you an IV.”
She tried to sit up and his arms tightened reflexively. “Easy. I’ve got you. Just lie still a minute and get your bearings.”
She lay stiffly for a moment before relaxing into him. “Are we safe?”
“For now,” he said. “But we’ll get moving soon.”
Her hand plucked at the IV. He snagged her fingers before she could pull it out. She scowled at him, and it made him want to laugh. She was going to be okay. This time when she struggled to sit up, he helped her and eased her back against a tree.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“Fine,” she said. “Do you have other team members with you?”
She must have been more out of it than he’d thought when they’d first connected near dawn. He nodded. “Three. Out on watch at the moment.”
She braced herself against the tree. “We should get out of here. It isn’t safe. They patrol regularly.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder and gently resisted her attempt to rise. She flopped back down with a whoosh of air. Just as he’d suspected, she was as weak as a child at the moment.
“Not until you eat something.” He dug in his pack and pulled out an energy bar. “Not the most delicious of meals but it’ll give you the calories you need quickly.”
“Thank you.” Her fingers fumbled with the packet, but she didn’t ask for help. He snagged back the bar and ripped open the packaging before he handed it back. She scowled as she shoved it in her mouth, alternating between chewing and muttering about not being a baby. A weight shifted off his shoulders and slid to the ground. He wanted to laugh. Cassie was back. He loved this stubborn, independent side of her. He sucked in a breath and sank back on his heels.
