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“He’s comfortable, but we need to get him medical attention A-SAP. We only have so much plasma here. He miraculously escaped any broken bones, except for the rib fracture that has caused the bleeding. If it’s minor, it’ll stop on its own. If it’s not…”
What a freaking goatfuck. He was aware that it could be over for him if help didn’t arrive in time. He, his teammates, and his LT all knew of that possibility. Death always stalked them, even as they mustered whatever they needed to muster to fight their country’s enemies. And a corrupt prime minister who was pitting his poor, disgruntled masses against them was their enemy. He would go down like a dog if he continued to oppose them.
The timing of the earthquake was at the worst possible moment. If it had only happened fifteen minutes later…. Twister’s thoughts went to Shark. He expected his teammate had been on the road to the airport when the earthquake struck. He suspected he wasn’t the only one who worried that around in his mind until the meds she’d given him kicked in and he fell back to sleep.
* * *
The prime minister answered the SAT phone.
“We’re close to eliminating the people you ordered us to disappear.” There was an edge to Diego’s voice. “Their SUV went airborne when the quake struck, landing on the beach below us. Only a matter of time now.” The man had just been through an earthquake, but his tone was unaffected while he was still shaking inside.
“Hold off on that, Diego,” he said. There was a possibility that the US government was playing chicken with him. Maybe he was paranoid, but it was in his best interest to keep some aces up his sleeve in case he needed them. “Take them all alive. Hold them.”
“Where?” his lackey asked, his voice low and gravelly. “Any structure for miles has been leveled.”
“Back to the ambassador’s residence. I will be there as soon as I can. Do not harm any of them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, we got it.”
* * *
Splintered white pieces of awareness drifted through Maddy’s consciousness, an urgency underlying her lethargy. She knew she needed to wake up, to move, but she couldn’t seem to get there.
She heard a baby crying. The sound was frantic, terrified, and she wanted to help him, soothe him. She shifted, and agony shot through her skull, radiating in waves. Bracing her hand on the dash as pain punctured her senses, and her stomach rolled loosely, she worked at swimming through the grayness. She fell back against the seat, trying not to be sick, and rubbed her temples. She breathed slowly, her face throbbing. After a few seconds, the pain eased to a dull ache, and she opened her eyes.
Disoriented for a moment, she looked out of the SUV’s fractured windshield and fine spider-like splinters, past the now-deflated airbag onto the beach of a churning, angry ocean, the water looked…displaced. Then she remembered. They’d been speeding to the airport and there was…an…earthquake. They’d shot off uneven, protruding ground and gone airborne. They must have landed on the beach below the road. She turned her head to look for Shark. He was slumped over the wheel, his own airbag starkly white in the darkness, blood slipping down his temple from a gash at his hairline.
Her heart in her throat, she checked his pulse…and almost cried when she felt it strong and steady.
She looked into the back seat, Kenzy’s crying reaching a screaming crescendo. She reached back with a groan of pain, setting her hand on the baby’s chest. He immediately quieted. Fabrice and Noah were unconscious. She heard someone move in the back where Emmanuel had been riding. Then a male groan.
“Emmanuel? Are you all right?”
“I think my leg is broken,” he said, his voice filled with a painful rasp.
Maddy’s heart instantly picked up pace, then started to pound as she saw one bobbing light slide down the embankment, followed by more, heading toward them. She turned to Shark and shook him. “Bale? Wake up!” But his head lolled. Suddenly her door was pulled open, and a man roughly unhooked her seat belt and jerked her from the vehicle. Another one yanked open the passenger door and dragged Noah out then proceeded to tow him away. Kenzy started crying again.
She heard a rustling sound, instantly followed by a grunt, as arms came around the man’s neck. He twisted, firing wildly. She dove for cover, remained tucked against the vehicle as he fell, his body smacking the sand. Shark stood there like a phantom in the shadows.
“Maddy?” He brought up his pistol, then aimed as another man came around the bumper. The man fired and Maddy felt the heat of the bullet as it sailed past her cheek. Shark made a soft grunt as he fell back into the sand, blood blossoming on his upper arm. Shark returned fire, the man falling near her. There was a clean hole in his forehead, blood pooling fast beneath his skull.
Oh, God, oh, God. Shark’s gaze locked on her as a man put a gun to his head. “Drop it or I’ll drop you.” Shark had no choice. He knew when not to fight back. He released the weapon. He pushed up and rushed to her, sliding to the ground and gathering her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, breathing hard and letting his strength infuse her. He turned to the men. “She’s the ambassador’s daughter. She’s valuable?—”
“Shut up,” the man said as he slammed the butt of his pistol across Shark’s face. “Get up. Move.” Six feet, and in jeans and a mud brown T-shirt, he had huge shoulders, and really scary, cold eyes.
Shark leaned in, his cheek bloody as panic rolled through her. She was terrified that something would happen to him. She couldn’t bear it. “I’ll keep you alive,” he whispered. “Trust me.”
She was quite aware that in this type of situation, Shark was the best weapon to have. One of the men broke them apart, and Shark fought. But the other man put a gun to her head. Every muscle in her body locked, and the only sound was her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Shark scowled and stopped, his face contorting with fury. They bound his hands behind him, then searched him.
A man behind her ran his hands over her, then got more familiar. When he squeezed her breast, she shoved his hand away, but it came right back. Shark went crazy, and his captor tried to restrain him, but he broke free. Another man hit him in the back of the head and sent him to his knees in the sand.
The man who had searched her smirked and reached for her. She drove the heel of her palm into his nose so hard it broke.
He howled, clutching his face, and went to backhand her. The other man, Muddy T-Shirt, acting like the leader, caught it mid-strike. He scowled and threw it back, even as Shark struggled again. “She’s not to be touched or harmed. Is that clear?”
The man pulled a bandanna from around his neck to staunch the flow of blood. He glared at her, his look promising retribution the moment he thought he could get away with it. She didn’t care. She would not be violated. Her father taught her to stand up to bullies.
The leader took her arm, guiding her to the embankment, then dragging her up. She looked behind her. Broken Nose shoved Shark toward the incline. The Third Man surrounded Fabrice as she clutched her son to her. Corporal Cassidy supported Emmanuel and when they pressured them to move, Fabrice pulled back. “I need my bag,” she said firmly. “My son needs his things, especially the diapers.”
