by Zoe Dawson
Derrick was sure there wasn’t one in this bunch, including him.
This was a discreet place to get a bullet wound competently seen to, the doctor a friend to every shadow and spook in this area. He asked no questions, took his pay and kept his damn mouth shut. He probed Derrick’s wound with forceps after numbing the area. Then he heard the sound of metal plinking into a metal dish. The doctor got to sewing him up. It was disconcerting to be sitting here in front of four men, almost buck-ass naked, well, except for the tiny square of cloth covering his groin.
He insisted on walking on his own when they left with painkillers and sutures holding everything together. In a small hotel, they holed up as Derrick laid out his plan.
After he told them how he was going to get off the estate with Matty, they looked at each other.
When they rose, Rock leaned over and said, “If I were you, I wouldn’t tell the mother or aunt how you got that kid out.”
Derrick grimaced, thinking there wouldn’t be much to say to Emma when he was done with this.
He dressed in a gardener’s outfit and pulled the cap low over his eyes. Grabbing the bag with his specialized gear in it, he gritted his teeth as he slung it over his shoulder.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Austin murmured from the open door of the van as they prepared to go over to Ortega’s rented estate.
“I have to be. Lopez is going to move on Ortega today. My intel is solid, and I’m the only one who can get in. Wait for me at the rendezvous point.”
“Yeah, maybe you should pop one of those happy pills,” Robin suggested.
“I can’t. I’ve got to be mentally and physically sound to do what I have to do. I can endure the pain. It’s still mostly numb.”
Fifteen minutes later he drove up to the estate, showed them his ID and they let him through. He’d been working here for a little over three days, casing the area and scoping out the best route to Matty. The nanny brought the baby outside just after lunch and put him in a playpen on the balcony that overlooked the valley below. The estate was set on a bluff, an excellent deterrent to getting attacked from the rear. It was fortified in the front with armed guards and dogs.
Derrick’s phone vibrated. The voice on the line was terse and brief.
“He’s on his way. Fifteen minutes. Good luck.”
He silently thanked the CIA operative Robin knew in Colombia who was watching Lopez for him. It was now eleven forty-five, and all hell was about to break loose. He made his way with his bag to just down the stairs from the balcony. Matty was there, sitting up and playing with a toy. Derrick set down the bag and pulled out the harness, quickly getting himself into it. He looked at his watch and then dashed up the stairs. He clipped the nanny on the chin with his fist and she dropped to the warm tiles.
Scooping Matty up, he set him into the specially made harness to hold the baby. He cooed and smiled up at Derrick as he made sure he was secure.
“Hold it right there,” Gilberto Ortega said, pointing a gun at Derrick. But he was sure the man wouldn’t fire.
“Set the baby down,” he said angrily, cocking a round into the chamber. “You won’t get off this estate alive.”
That’s where he was wrong. He didn’t see what was on Derrick’s back. As soon as he heard the automatic weapons at the gate, he watched Ortega’s face blanch and look behind him.
“You hear that, Ortega? That’s your destiny coming at you like a freight train. Your legacy ends here, and Matty will never be a part of it. I’m going to make sure he grows up in the loving arms of his family.” At Ortega’s lack of focus, Derrick had been steadily moving to the edge of the balcony. As the sound of doors bursting open and more gunfire, Derrick launched himself off the rail backward and into open air. With one hand he supported the baby’s head and neck and with the other, he pulled the ripcord, gritting his teeth as the parachute opened. Over his shoulder, he saw Ortega jerk spasmodically as he was riddled with bullets. Below him the shots echoed across the jungle, sending birds flying and the chatter of monkeys to cease.
Derrick spied his team and his chest tightened. His team, his friends. Ignoring the pain scoring his side, he brought both him and Matty down for a smooth landing.
They were going home.
Chapter Eighteen
They went back to the doctor, who checked the baby out as if it was a common occurrence in the jungles of South America for five hulking men to be toting an infant. The doctor pronounced him in fine condition, and they headed back to the hotel room to pull up stakes and head home.
Once inside, Robin sniffed just as Rock said, “Derrick, you’re bleeding. If you pulled out those stitches…” he said, forcing him down on the bed. “Let me take a look.”
He grabbed one of the pill bottles and pulled out a bottle of water. “Take one.”
“I don’t—”
“The mission is over. We won. Take the freaking pill before I shove it down your throat.”
Derrick took the freaking pill. Rock had at least fifty hard-packed pounds and five inches on him. And he was wounded. They were out of the woods. It was a trip to the airport and a commercial flight out of Bogotá.
“What is that smell?”
Dex sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “That’s the little guy. Looks like he’s done his duty.”
Everyone laughed, except Robin. Then it dawned on him. “Oh, he crapped his diaper.”
“Give this one a medal,” Rock said from the bed where he peeled away the old bandage and Derrick breathed around the agony.
“Looks good, just a little bit of bleeding. I’ll clean it and put on a fresh bandage, then it’s hasta la vista, baby.”
“Someone needs to change him,” Robin said.
“You do it,” Derrick growled. “Geez, you can topple governments, kill a man before he even knows he’s dead, blend into the shadows, assume new identities and con a person into believing you’re whomever you chose to be. I’d say you can change a diaper.”
“Yeah,” Dex said, “It’s not rocket science.”
“Dex, can’t you do it? You have a kid.”
“Ah, it’s good practice. You never know when you’ll need it in the field. Go on.”
“There are some in my backpack,” Derrick said. He’d been prepared for every contingency, right down to the diapers and wipes.
Rock shook his head, pressing a new dressing to his wound, but Derrick wasn’t feeling any pain now. Derrick chuckled, watching the panic on Robin’s face.
Dex piped up. “Just a heads-up. Watch out for—”
“Ah,” Robin groused as Matty set off a stream to splash against his shirt.
“Too late,” Austin chuckled, slapping Robin on the back.
The diaper change turned into a tactical operation as Rock left the bed to supervise and Dex barked orders. Austin sat down next to him.
“Kai’s pissed. She’s got that ‘he’s fired’ look. Man, I tried to cover up.”
“It’s all right. She has every right to fire me. I went off the grid. Twice. I’m a rogue agent. But now I see I should have trusted you all to have my back. I like being on this team. I hope I have a job when I get home.”
“Me, too.” Austin nudged his shoulder. “You are part of the team. Always have been.”
Derrick nodded.
“No, that’s backward,” Dex said, trying to shoulder his way in, but Robin muscled the bigger man over. “Hey, don’t bogart the baby. I got this,” Robin said.
Austin chuckled, his eyes glinting. “So you were CIA. I always knew it.”
“Yeah, I was. I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.” He’d given Austin a hard time so that he wouldn’t get too close, but now Derrick realized that he was close to this man. They were friends, partners and teammates. “You can come over and we’ll have a beer and a cookout.”
“Are you sure that’s not a martini, shaken not stirred?”
“You got me,” Derrick said, smirking.
“Will you show me t
hose rockets in your tailpipes?”
Derrick laughed. “You bet. I’ll even let you blow up some bad guys.”
“Neato torpedo!” Austin said with a huge grin on his face.
After they were in the van, Matty tucked safely in the car seat, Robin looked over at him. “You going to be okay?”
“I hope so.”
“Well, with these big lugs, you’ve got your back pretty much covered.” He shifted in his seat. “Don’t even try to drink them under the table.”
Dex mumbled, “Lightweight.”
Rock said, “He drinks like a girl.”
Robin’s eyes glinted and he gave them both the finger. He rubbed the top of Matty’s head. “He’s lucky to have Lily as a mom. I wonder what that feels like?”
“Yeah, he does, and I bet it’s freaking fantastic,” Derrick said.
Robin looked out the window. “Yeah, I bet it is.”
He thought about Emma with a heavy thickness clogging his throat. Her last words to him came at him like a load of bricks right to his heart: I’ll never forgive you. Just when he realized how tight and intimate his relationship with her was, he’d screwed it up, to do something he had to do. He couldn’t regret cutting her out of the action, making the decision to keep her safe. He totally couldn’t regret saving Matty. Emma filled a hole inside him he’d been carrying around for way too long. She would never know what it was like to never see Matty again. He looked away as the pain from his wound made his eyes water. Yeah, that’s what he was going to tell himself.
Hours later, he and Robin were standing outside Emma’s house, Tristan assuring them everything was secure.
“You want to come in?” Derrick asked.
Robin smiled. “Nah, it’s enough to know I had a hand in this. Besides, I should stay away from that beautiful babe. She looks way too innocent for the likes of me.”
“Does it help to know that she’s taken? She’s marrying some former commander in the Navy.”
Robin got a pained look on his face. “Ah, hell, that blows. Just as well. Tell Emma she’s welcome, and you take care. We even now?”
“Hah, we’re never going to be even.”
Robin laughed and shoved him slightly. “Right.”
Derrick watched him walk away, then turned toward the house. Heading up the stairs, he took a deep breath. Matty cooed in his arms.
“Time to see your mom, kiddo. I bet she’s missed you.”
At her home, Emma moved her backgammon piece and her grandmother scowled. “You are good at this game, even when your focus is elsewhere.” They had drawn closer, gone to counseling and were talking and working through their past. Bess had been a different woman, finally turning into their grandmother, not the doily-making, cookie-baking kind, but close enough.
Emma gave her a wan smile and Bess patted her arm. “Everything is going to be fine,” she whispered, glancing over at Lily. With her broken arm and leg, she needed twenty-four-hour care, so Emma and Bess were trading off looking after Lily. She was listlessly staring out the window, looking wan and tired. She wasn’t sleeping well, and Matty’s abduction was weighing heavily on her. She blamed herself for being so stupid and getting involved with Gilberto. But she’d just come off a breakup with her Navy petty officer and needed solace. She’d found it with Gilberto and had ended up pregnant. Aware she was carrying his baby, she’d contacted him to let him know about his son. But when she dug into his life, she’d discovered he was a drug lord and had flatly refused to speak with him after that.
With her broken ribs, arm and leg, mending nicely, and no permanent damage from the coma, she was recovering. At least physically.
Emma was no different. There wasn’t a night that didn’t go by that she would wake up, aching to feel Derrick next to her, missing him and sick with worry for him and her nephew. But Robin assured her that he would take care of Derrick. She’d finally learned to trust in someone and stop having a chip on her shoulder that was begging to be knocked off. She let Derrick take the lead and save her nephew because she trusted him with his life, her life, and the lives of her sister and grandmother.
Robin had jumped at the chance to find Derrick for her. And Austin and Amber were so ready to help. Amber’s husband, Tristan Michaels, was checking around the house to make sure the perimeter was secure. Lord, that man was large and in charge. The Kaczewski brothers, both of them, had agreed, immediately crediting Derrick with saving them and their wives.
Tristan slipped into the room from the back patio and gave her a curt nod just as there was a knock on the door.
Emma looked at him, and he moved toward it, looking through the peephole. He smiled and pulled the door open. Standing there was Derrick. Her heart and knees and every part of her felt rubbery as if she was going to collapse in a heap.
But the best part was Matty in his arms. The baby took one look at her and giggled. His laughter filled her with glee.
“Matty!” Lily yelled. “Please, bring him to me, Emma!” Derrick held him out and she took him. Her heart filled when Bess grabbed Derrick and pulled him into a hard hug. If she wasn’t so overcome with emotion, she would have laughed at Derrick’s stunned expression. She went to her sister, and they kissed Matty and hugged him. When the brief reunion was over, she looked for Derrick, but he was gone.
She rose and walked over to Tristan. “Where did he go?”
“He said he was sorry, then left. I’m not sure where he went.”
She bolted out the door and into the street, but it was empty.
Derrick walked into NCIS and the moment he came into view, Amber was up and running. She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Tristan just texted me. I’m so happy to see you.”
He winced in pain and doubled over. “I’m sorry. Are you injured?”
“Gunshot. I’m fine.”
“Gunn! Upstairs,” Kai said with a thunderous look.
“You’ve got some explaining to do,” Amber said with a sidelong look toward the stairs and the closed door of TacOps.
He squeezed her arm. “I’d laugh, but it hurts too much.”
Kai turned and climbed the stairs and Amber murmured, “Good luck.”
He entered TacOps and saw that the director was on the big screen.
“Agent Derrick Gunn, Director,” Kai said.
“Back from a successful mission, but I heard you were wounded. How are you doing, and shouldn’t you be in a hospital?”
“I’ve seen a doctor. I’m fine, sir.”
“You make us proud every day, young man. Now you’re on leave for the next six weeks. Job well-done.”
Derrick gaped at the screen even as it went dark. Then he turned to look at Kai. “I’m not fired?”
She shook her head, an exasperated look crossing her face. “No—on the contrary, you will probably get a medal for this. If you had bothered to check with me, you would have found out that this mission to recover Matthew St. John was already sanctioned by the director and SECNAV. There was no way in hell SECNAV was going to let an infant from one of our Navy personnel be raised by a drug lord. We had no intention of letting Gilberto Ortega keep him. We had a whole team on the ready and it was just missing one component.”
“Me?” he said, shaking his head and laughing.
“Derrick, I can’t say enough how lucky we are to have you. But from now on, rogue missions aren’t kosher. Capisce?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me with that smug look on your handsome face. Now do as the director told you and get healed. I don’t want to see you back here for six weeks.” Then she hugged him hard, making him wince again, but he swallowed the pain. When she separated, she gave him a chiding look. “Try to stay out of trouble until then.”
He headed for the door. “Yes, ma’am.” Everything had turned out perfectly, except for him and Emma. He’d ruined their chance of being together by breaking her trust.
Once again, he’d had to sacrifice for the greater good.
It was good she was alive and well. That she, Lily, and their grandmother would have the pleasure of raising Matty.
I’ll never forgive you.
Yeah, those were her final words. Bereft and completely shutting down, he didn’t even bother to go home, just hailed a cab and said, “Airport.”
Once there, he bought a first-class ticket on the first available flight to the Bahamas. As soon as he was seated, he popped two painkillers and slept all the way there. Groggy and feeling sick at heart, he had someone fly him over to Tucked Away Cay. He went up to the house and went inside. His very competent British housekeeper was there, and he startled the hell out of her.
“Mrs. Carbuncle, this is an impromptu visit. Sorry I scared the bejesus out of you.”
“Would you like something to eat? I can make something in a jiff.”
Derrick exhaled unevenly and shook his head. “No. Thanks. I’m just going to lie down for a bit.” He turned and headed for his bedroom, not sure how much longer he could hang on to the rising pressure in his chest.
Derrick had his foot on the stair when Mrs. Carbuncle said, “I will be here for another hour, Mr. Gunn. Please let me know if you’d like me to make something for you before I go.”
Without turning around, Derrick struggled with the tightness in his throat, the burning in his eyes. “Thank you. Carry on.” He went up the stairs and his body finally shut down on him. He didn’t feel a whole hell of a lot better when he woke up, but his head was clearer, and he could think halfway rationally.
Sitting up in bed, he felt as if something heavy was pressing on his chest. With a soft, pained sound, he moved, his wound protesting…loudly. The medication must be wearing off. After checking the clock to see when he’d last took it, he saw that he was due for another dose. He’d been asleep for eighteen hours straight.
Padding into the bathroom, he peeled away the dressing; reaching into the cabinet and pressing on a waterproof bandage, he turned on the water, letting it warm while he took his pills.
