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His dizziness had returned, and he could barely move, or even open his eyes. He felt the chopper take off and he drifted in and out until Brawler took his hand. “Twist?” he said, and Twister fought to open his eyes.
“You’re in good hands. We’re going to fast rope down to the compound. The doc here is going to keep Tex apprised of how you’re doing. Don’t party too hard at Gitmo.”
Twister smiled and squeezed his hand. “Thank you, guys,” he murmured, and he heard a resounding hoo-yah before he succumbed to the beckoning darkness.
* * *
Shark slammed into the wall of the foyer. Broken Nose shoved him so hard he’d lost his balance. They moved into the ambassador’s residence as if they owned it. All of them were sweating profusely from the long walk back to the residence over rough terrain that was chewed up. In some places, the earth had been churned up in ripples as the seismic waves had passed through the ground.
He was lightheaded, the wound at his temple throbbing in tandem with his heartbeat, the gash on his cheek stinging. He kept his attention on Maddy as she’d valiantly trudged along. They were all being so brave, Fabrice clutching her son, refusing to have any of the men touch him. He had cried for a long time but now hung limp in his mom’s arms.
“I need some water for my son,” she demanded, turning on Third Man who was crowding her inside. He grabbed her arm, and she pulled away, defiantly heading for the kitchen. She set her diaper bag on the counter as they were all herded into the living room and forced to sit on the couch. Maddy settled on the left side of him, and after Fabrice filled up her child’s bottle with cool bottled water, she took the seat to his right, shouldering out Corporal Cassidy, who moved over. Setting the diaper bag down on the floor, she roused Kenzy by putting the nipple to his mouth. He woke up and latched on, drinking thirstily.
“Pass out some water,” Muddy T-shirt, Diego said, one of the thugs had called him. The zip ties they had used to bind Shark bit into his wrists as he tried to work himself free, but he stopped as one of the goons came over and handed Maddy a bottle of water. She opened the cap and drank for a couple of seconds, then turned to him and put the bottle to his mouth. He drank as she tipped it up, letting him have most of it. When he signaled, he’d had enough, she took it back and drained it dry.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. “Me? You’ve been shot.” She stood up. “I want to give him first aid. The case is under the sink.” She motioned to the kitchen and Diego nudged his head for her to go. She quickly got the case and came back. Sitting back down next to him, she took out some alcohol pads and wiped at the wound on his arm. Luckily, it was just a graze. It hurt like hell, bled a lot, but wasn’t life-threatening.
He opened his mouth, and she gave him a hard look. “Don’t you dare say it’s a flesh wound.”
By this time, Kenzy was out again, and Fabrice set him on his back on the coffee table and quickly and efficiently changed his diaper. She then set him between them. She reached inside the diaper bag and drew out a blanket, but he saw her palm something. She gave him an encouraging sidelong glance and took her time covering Kenzy.
Then he felt something slip between the zip tie and his skin, and with a snip, his hands were free.
She settled her dress around her, as she leaned over and freed the corporal. He turned to look at her, keeping his face impassive. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
“I always carry scissors with me, and I shoved a gun in there when we fled the palace,” she whispered. “It’s fully loaded. Idiots didn’t even search the diaper bag. They underestimate how far a mother will go to protect her child. I can’t risk getting it just yet, but I will as soon as it’s safe.”
Shark nodded.
“Stop talking,” the third man said. He was out of shape and looked completely exhausted.
Suddenly, they heard the sound of a helicopter as it landed, the rotors whining as they powered down. The front door opened, and the prime minister walked into the room. Maddy stiffened, and Fabrice glared and reached for her sleeping son. “You bastard. You killed my husband. You won’t get away with it,” she screamed, cradling him against her heaving chest.
He smirked and tsked. “I already have. The only people who know about what transpired in the palace are here. Keep your mouths shut.”
“What do you want with us?” Maddy said, standing up. “I’m the daughter of the ambassador of the United States. How dare you treat me and these people like this? I demand to talk to my father.”
He walked over and pushed her down on the couch. It was all Shark could do to stop himself from reacting and killing the prime minister with his bare hands. But he had to wait for the right moment. He glanced over at one of the two guards. The one with the broken nose bobbed his head as he worked to keep his eyes open. Diego was giving first aid to the other guard.
“Diego tells me that you know more than you should. Why don’t you tell me what that is?”
Maddy’s lips thinned, and she lifted her chin. “I saw the president dead. I took pictures, and I told my father everything I saw.”
“So, the break-in wasn’t a robbery after all.” He switched his attention to Shark. “I’m sure you had a hand in that raid.”
Shark said nothing.
The prime minister backhanded Maddy across the face, and again, Shark had to keep a tight rein on his actions. He couldn’t give away that he was free.
A phone rang and the prime minister took a SAT phone out of his pocket. He answered. “Hello, Secretary White. It seems that you know everything about what happened with our president. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m sure you’ll make it so.” He shrugged. “Of course, you’re right. I did drag your nation into it by accusing your Marine of murdering our already deceased president, but if you want your people back in one piece, and to receive permission to enter the country, I have some demands.”
He smiled and nodded. “I understand you don’t negotiate, but I’m no terrorist, just an opportunist holding all the cards.” He listened for several moments. “What do I want? Well, ten million dollars in an offshore account. I already have my own transportation.” He sighed, and said, “Of course, discuss it with your president. But you have an hour before I start killing hostages, starting with the ambassador’s daughter.”
17
“What are our alternatives?” the president asked. “We know he’s at the residence. He’s not only holding our people hostage, with our embassy under siege, he’s holding his country hostage. People are dying, and all he cares about is ten million.”
