working a top secret mission in enemy territory. He was trying to win your release, but … clearly, it didn’t work.”
Nicole’s stomach swirled, acid biting hard. “Wh-what happened to the operatives?”
He didn’t answer for several seconds, and dread screwed tighter in her chest.
“They took it upon themselves to rescue you, despite what your father almost cost them.”
Nicole drew a silent gasp as the earth beneath her pitched. “Y-you …?”
Rather than answer her, he flicked his hand, motioning for her to stand up. “Come on. Time to go.”
She gaped at him, too numb to move. “So … what? I’m some kind of pawn in your vendetta with my father?”
“Sounds about right. And it evens the score between you and me, too. Don’t you think?”
She shook her head, stunned and confused. “Am I supposed to know you?”
He snorted derisively. “Says a lot that you don’t.”
“Look, stop talking in riddles and tell me what’s going on! Who are you?” As hard as she was trying to keep her voice low, frustration and anger sharpened her tone.
“Get—” A loud pop cut the Cajun off and echoed through the dark jungle. Then a series of nerve-rattling cracks. Cajun Man barked a curse and yanked her to her feet. “Snipers! Run!”
Staggering, Nicole ran, fueled by fear. Cajun Man led the way, returning fire with his handgun. Around her bits of bark and dirt flew. The snipers’ bullets zinged past her. She charged forward, blindly following the Cajun.
Suddenly, with an agonized scream, he fell.
Nicole skidded to a stop and dropped behind the modest protection of a fallen tree. The Cajun dragged himself forward, clutching his left leg, and an icy chill raced through her. She scrambled to his side. “You’re hit?”
He pushed her away. “Forget me and go!” he rasped. “Straight ahead. Alec has the chopper—”
“I can’t leave you here!” She moved closer and, with the help of her night vision goggles, she saw the bloody mess that was his knee. “Oh, my God!”
Despite her medical training, her gut pitched. He had to be in excruciating pain. Staying low to avoid the continuing rain of sniper fire, she whipped her shirt over her head. Unmindful of her dishabille, she tore the shirt at the side seam.
“No time!” He batted her away when she tried to staunch his bleeding. “Go!”
Tears filled her eyes. “And leave you here to die? How heartless do you think I am?”
He rolled his head back, teeth gritted and his thick neck arched as he growled in pain. “Nicole!”
Desperation and adrenaline spurred her to action. Wrapping her shirt around his knee, she tied the fabric off, then grabbed the front of his shirt in a fist. “Get up, soldier!” He wasn’t the only one who could bark orders. “You will go with me. Now!”
She shoved her shoulder under his left armpit and struggled to get him upright and still stay behind the protection of the large tree.
Indecision bit Nicole. The Cajun was twice her size, and they were surrounded by snipers. How was she supposed to get them both to the helicopter safely?
The Cajun clearly read her dilemma, and with his superior strength, pried himself out of her grip. “Leave me, damn it! Run!”
Emotion clogged Nicole’s throat, but she choked out, “Promise you’ll follow.” He jerked a nod that didn’t quite convince her, but the hail of bullets seemed to be closing in. She stuck her face in the Cajun’s and shouted, “I’ll bring Alec back for you.”
“No!” he yelled as she turned to run.
Moisture not only blurred her vision, but in the hot jungle, her night vision goggles steamed up. Giving up on the goggles, she yanked them off and tossed them behind her as she plowed forward. The first thin rays of morning sun filtered through the jungle canopy, and with the watery light as a guide, she rushed toward what appeared to be a clearing ahead. The whir of a motor reached her over the pounding of her pulse and the pop of gunfire.
Please God, let that engine be Alec with the helicopter.
“Alec!” Screaming for his help took almost more breath than she had left. Surely he’d heard the gunfire. Where was—?
A hand grabbed her arm and swung her into the thick vegetation. She swallowed her gasp, recognizing the tall, dark-haired man still wearing his night vision goggles. “Alec!”
He shoved her behind him. “Keep your head down!” Leaning against a tree branch with an automatic weapon propped on his shoulder, Alec fired into the trees. “Jake’s got the chopper ready. That way!” He freed a hand long enough to push her toward the clearing.
She jerked away. “Where’s Tia?”
“On the chopper with Jake.”
She nodded in relief, then gasped, “Your partner was shot. We have to go back for him!” She started back the way she’d come, trusting Alec would follow.
“Nicole, wait!” He grabbed at her retreating back, but because she’d shed her shirt, he came up empty-handed. “Nicole!”
“Hurry!” She didn’t wait. Desperate to reach the Cajun, she pumped her legs, knocking palm fronds out of her way with her arm, retracing her steps, using tree trunks for cover and the thick foliage to camouflage her progress. The sun was slightly higher now. Shadowy forms separated from the thin gray light that seeped through the jungle ceiling. Terror coiled around her like a python, squeezing her chest, but she forcefully battled the fear down. She had to keep it together. Not just for her own sake, but for Tia. For Alec and for the Cajun who, even though he hated her for some unknown offense, had risked his life, taken a bullet in his leg, saving her.
Alec, moving so silently she didn’t hear him until he was upon her, pressed close behind Nicole, his automatic weapon at the ready.
The snipers’ fire had slacked off, although she still saw an occasional muzzle flash in the upper branches followed by the chilling thud of a bullet hitting the ground.
“Go back to the chopper. I’ll find him,” Alec growled.
They’d only gotten half of the way back to where she’d left the Cajun, and something deep inside her wouldn’t let her leave the jungle without him. She’d opened her mouth to argue, when one of the dark shadows moved with a lurch and a groan.
Nicole’s heart stutter-stepped in admiration and compassion. Despite the obvious pain he was in, the Cajun was struggling toward their extraction point. As he neared, she made out the branch he used as a crutch while he dragged his bloodied leg behind him. He’d taken off his goggles as she had, and no longer had his backpack. Everything in his body language, from his rigidly set jaw, taut mouth, fisted hands and forward canting body as he staggered through the jungle exuded a sheer grit and steely determination. This man was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor.
Your
