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But she could soak up the sight of him.
Jose. Here, decked out in camo, survival gear, and pointing an MP5 directly at her captor. She’d expected him to be brought in to break her code, not participate in the actual rescue operation.
But he’d more than heard her. He’d come for her. For a split second the adrenaline poured from her toes. Every ache in her body throbbed to the surface. Every bruise. Scratch. Fear. And yes, even an aching vulnerability when it came to this man. All of it bundled together, firing inside her, then doused, pushed aside as she focused on survival. If he’d infiltrated the compound without setting off land mines, without a sound of alert, someone must have picked up on her codes.
Her codes.
She needed them now. She could blink without moving her throat, without alerting her captor behind her.
Simple Morse code. Something easy to understand.
She held Jose’s deep chocolate eyes but found none of her former lover in those depths. He was still one hundred percent focused on the mission. As he should be. As she should be.
She blinked. On three. One. Two. Three.
Stella inched left, the slice of the blade cutting into her throat, but God, if Jose could just take the—
Shot.
Bullets whistled past her ear.
The hold around her eased, thank God. She pushed back into her guard’s stomach and his arm fell away altogether. She toppled her chair in case Jose needed her clear to continue shooting. Her shoulder slammed the ground and she bit back a scream.
Still, a groan slipped between her gritted teeth. Jose charged over to her, yanked some kind of cloth from his pocket, and knotted it gently around her throat. It was okay. She was okay. He was alive and so was she. She gulped in air, breathing deeply for the first time since her captor had pressed that blade to her throat.
“I’m fine,” she gasped while he untied her, the familiar scent of him settling her nerves with each shaky inhale.
“You will be.”
“And the others?”
“Taken care of.” He grabbed her elbow and eased her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
His touch seared her skin, his strength so welcome after the past three days—an eternity. She tucked closer to Jose’s side for balance as spots danced in front of her eyes.
His burly pal Bubbles filled the doorway. He pivoted hard and took the lead. Jose looped an arm around her waist and hauled her with him.
So much for a heartfelt reunion. But then she had often accused Jose of being illogical. Now she couldn’t complain when he did everything right to save her life. They didn’t have time for a huggy, feel-good moment. She needed to think, to be sure everyone had been accounted for.
“Did you get everybody?” Stella pressed for details. “Even the two that are dead?”
The failure of their lost lives threatened to send her to her knees again.
“Two dead. Four injured,” Bubbles clipped out. “The SEALs got ’em all.”
“No, five injured. Thirteen hostages total. It was twelve plus me.” She forced her mind to cycle through the events of the past three days, praying she wasn’t confusing things in her exhaustion. “Did you clear the room where I was held? It’s…”
“We know where it is. We saw your message.”
She’d guessed right about the robotic fly. She hadn’t been hallucinating. “Then let’s go. Maybe the room beside it? But there were definitely at least five injured.”
Bubbles raced from room to room, cell to cell, and appeared again so fast and silent they could have renamed him Ghost. Just when she’d given up hope, Bubbles came out with his arm hitched around the injured fella—Sutton Harper—steadying him. The tortured student dragged his leg behind, clutching his arm to his stomach. His blond curly hair was plastered to his head with grime, his hiking clothes damp with perspiration. But he was alive.
Jose pressed his finger to his headset, listening, then nodded. “All accounted for. No more waiting. We’ve got to roll if we’re going to make the chopper pickup.”
Sutton limped slower, groaning. “Go without me. Seriously, dude. I’m holding you back and that’s a risk to Stella. You can send someone for me later.”
“No can do.” Bubbles powered on, hauling his patient.
