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CHAPTER29
Antonio came awake with a jostle as someone was trying to hoist him up into something. His chest hurt, his veins were pumping something like acid though his body, and his stomach was rebelling against everything, but his mind could only concentrate on one thing.
“Where’s Katie?” He tried to crane his neck, but movement was difficult. He was detoxing from the pills still and knew his body would rebel against not having the drugs he’d used for so long. “Who the fuck are you?” The man helping him right now was built like a locomotive and had a gnarly scar down his face.
“It’s okay, man. He’s with me.” He turned his head with some difficulty to see a man dressed all in black, with greasepaint all over his face.
“Even if I knew you, I wouldn’t recognize you. What the fuck?” It dawned on him, they were speaking English. “Did the embassy send you?”
How did the embassy know? He’d never made it there.
“It’s Ghost, man,” the guy said to him, waiting for him to realize it.
Someone from his past life. It took a minute to put the pieces together, but when he did, he felt his face break into a smile, something like a tear building up behind his eyes.
“Fuck me. Thank you.” Then he was back to his first thought. “Where’s Katie? Did you get her?”
“We got them all.”
“She’s under my protection. Please.” Ghost’s face smoothed over at Antonio’s words as if in approval.
“I’m here, Antonio.” A soft voice came over his shoulder and he saw a man holding his girl. A growl rose up inside him and released itself. Not that he was in any position to carry her, but seeing her cradled in another’s arms made his inner beast howl.
“Easy,” a low, husky voice said to him, and he realized he was being cradled in much the same position by the locomotive guy.
He kept his eyes on Katie as he was lifted into the helo, then she was lifted in.
They were together. Not captive.
Ignoring the sting of the cuts across his chest, he lifted his arm and put it around her.
“How do you feel?” He was looking at her hands as someone cleaned them. She was hissing and moaning with pain. He cringed, wishing he could bear it for her.
“I’m okay. I wish I was unconscious again, though. It hurts like hell.”
“I have something for the pain, if you’d like.” The man doctoring her fingers started digging around in his pack.
“No, please. I’ll be okay.” The panic in her voice was palpable, even through her exhaustion, as the bird lifted off the ground.
“She’s had a lot in her system,” Antonio said by way of explanation. “We all have.” He took a deep breath, not willing to admit he had taken drugs by choice.
“What does she have in her system? Do you know?” the man working on her hands asked. The question seemed casual, but Antonio knew it was crucial information to give them.
So he started listing the pills he had in his medicine cabinet. When he looked at Antonio with raised eyebrows, he looked back at him squarely. “She took a lot. I gave her Narcan to counteract it. But before that, they gave her a cocktail that was a mixture of several different medications to keep her compliant. That’s SOP.”
Shame filled him as he spoke, listening to his words. He knew how they sounded to these men who flew around the world, saving innocents from people just like him. He saw the big guy’s face shutter closed, not giving Antonio any emotion, but anger radiated from the men nonetheless.
Ghost spoke up in the silence. “How long have you been under?” His question was gentle, as if he understood what Antonio was feeling.
How long? He didn’t even remember. Time meant nothing in this tropical setting, filled with days that were all the same, years passing marked only by the rainy seasons.
“Seven years, I think. Too fucking long.”
Ghost nodded. “Colonel Monroe died suddenly of a heart attack six years ago.”
Antonio leaned his head back and closed his eyes, absorbing that information. His worst fears were confirmed.
He’d been left there to rot in that hell. It was a risk of going so deep undercover.
But he’d faithfully kept in contact the way he was supposed to, through the game. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met Katie.
He looked over at the woman who had given up on alertness and let the engines of the bird lull her to sleep.
If he hadn’t met Katie, she wouldn’t be here. Guilt punched him in the gut. Hard.
But he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. He knew it was inevitable, but right now, he longed to hold her while he could.
He scooted over closer to where she lay, eyes closed to the world. He lifted her head and laid it in his lap, stroking her hair, saying goodbye.
