The increasing downward trajectory of the aircraft slowed, lifted for a moment and then slammed into the hard surface of the earth, jolting Marta so hard her head smacked into Jack’s. Stars spun, clouding her vision. Was this it? Was she dead? She let go, accepting the end as what she deserved, embracing the abyss of death.
“Marta!” a voice shouted, bringing her back to the acrid stench of aviation fuel, stinging her nostrils.
Hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her hard. “Marta! Stay with me. We have to get out. Now!”
Marta opened her eyes to stare up into the blue eyes of a stranger. Was he a stranger or an angel, sent to right the wrongs she’d been forced to create? “No,” she whispered. “Let me die.”
The angel’s eyes narrowed, his mouth forming a straight line. “Not on my watch.” His hands tugged at the restraints holding her down. Suddenly, she was free—only to be pulled into the angel’s arms and dragged out into the heat and humidity of the jungle.
Just when she thought her nightmare couldn’t get more bizarre, the angel flung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and ran into that jungle, her head banging against his backside, leaves and branches swatting at her face, making her close her eyes to keep from losing one.
They hadn’t gone far when an explosion sent them flying forward.
Marta landed hard, the angel landing on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs. For a moment longer than she could handle, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t draw in air to fill her lungs. Then the angel crushing her body rose on his arms and stared down into her face.
“Hey, talk to me,” he said, his tone low, resonant, thick as molasses and just as rich and smooth. “Marta. Breathe.”
Marta gasped and dragged air into her starving lungs. “Holy hell,” she wheezed upon releasing the breath. “Are we alive?”
The angel grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. “We are.” His brow dipped. “I can’t say the same for the pilot.” He glanced over his shoulder as if continuing to lie in a prone position over her was natural. “The helicopter exploded.”
Weight that had nothing to do with the man hovering over her settled onto Marta’s chest. “The pilot? He’s dead?”
Crusher, that’s what he’d said his name was, nodded. “I think he wasn’t going to make it anyway. He must have taken a hit from the explosion that killed the engine.”
A tear slipped from the corner of Marta’s eye. “Because of me,” she whispered. “He died because of me.”
“You didn’t launch the rocket,” Crusher said. “It’s not your fault.”
“He died trying to rescue me.” She shook her head, closed her eyes and let more tears slip from the corners. She raised her eyelids and stared up into Crusher’s gaze. “Leave me here. Get away from me.”
He shook his head. “Can’t,” he said. “My job is to get you to Miami. We’re still in Colombia without a helicopter to get us to the jet that should have gotten us to Miami today. We’re moving on to Plan B.”
She frowned up at him, her head still a little fuzzy from the crash landing.
Crash landing?
Holy hell. She’d survived a crash landing?
Marta tried to sit up.
A hand behind her back helped her into a sitting position. “Do you think you can stand?” Crusher asked.
“I can’t very well sit here for any length of time,” she snapped, her vision blurring as she came to an upright position. Immediately, she leaned into the hand pressed against her back. “Then again...”
He laid her back against the ground. “I’d give you all the time to come to your senses, but the people who fired the rocket at our helicopter will be here soon. We need to move before they arrive.”
Marta nodded. “I’m okay,” she lied and pushed up onto her elbows, her head swimming. She fought back the gray fog threatening to suck her back into the darkness. “Although I might need a hand getting to my feet.”
Before she could collect her thoughts, the man who’d been leaning over her rose, gripped her hand and hauled her to her feet.
Her knees buckled, and she sank toward the ground.
Strong arms encircled her waist and drew her up against a solid wall of muscles, clamping her body against his.
Her arm automatically clung to his taut waist to steady herself. Without his arm around her, she couldn’t have held her own.
“We can only give it another couple of seconds for your head to clear.” Crusher glanced over his shoulder at the smoldering wreckage. “If you can’t run, I’ll carry you. Either way, we need to move out. The men in that truck will easily follow the smoke.”
