Shadow Rescue

by Rebecca Deel

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Nico, expect contact from the Texas unit within the hour. I want an update in two hours.”

  “Roger that.” He ended the call and glanced around the room. “Let’s get started. We have plans to make and not much time to complete them.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Joe glanced back to make sure Sam was on his six. Her gaze met his and she nodded. Good. She was ready. Hopefully, the two-hour session with the Fortress counselor had shored up Sam’s confidence in her ability to handle herself and the trafficking victims.

  He faced the Maldonado compound again, amazed at Sam’s resilience and strength. She could have been falling apart after the trauma she’d been through. Instead, she fought back. Joe admired her as much as he loved her.

  Joe activated his mic. “Team 6 in position,” he whispered. With 15 operatives moving in on the Maldonado compound and all using the same comm channel, the team leaders had further divided their individual units into two groups for easier identification on the comm system.

  “Copy,” Nico replied. “Wait for my signal.”

  “Roger that.”

  He and Sam waited in silence for the rest of the teams to take their positions and for the team leaders to give the signal to go. The night sky was cloudy, a warm breeze blowing against their grease-streaked faces. At two in the morning, the compound was silent except for the guards making their rounds of the area.

  Over the next three minutes, the other five teams signaled they were in position.

  “On my mark,” Nico murmured. The other two unit leaders had ceded mission leadership to Nico. “Six, go. One, two, and four hold for one minute. Team five moving.”

  The various teams acknowledge his orders as Joe and Sam left dense tree cover and headed for the building most likely to house the women slated for sale. Footsteps ahead and to the right sent them scurrying behind bushes lined against the wall of the building. A slender soldier strode around the corner five feet from their position. Dressed in all black, he was armed with two handguns, one holstered on each side of his waist. He also carried a rifle.

  Joe signaled Sam and he moved out from cover behind the enemy, Ka-Bar in hand. A quick slice with the blade and the guard was down. One more guard patrolled this area and he was due to appear in two minutes. Joe dragged the guard’s body behind the bushes. He and Sam rolled him under the foliage. Not perfect but it would have to do for the moment. They didn’t have much time before the second guard arrived.

  He activated his mic. “Five, one tango down.”

  “Copy,” came the whispered reply.

  Sam touched his arm and inclined her head toward the left. Footsteps.

  Joe frowned. The guard was early. He hadn’t changed his pattern in the four hours the operatives watched the compound. Why change now? Hushed voices reached his ears.

  “I’m telling you something is wrong. I swear I saw someone lurking around out here.”

  “Marco would have reported a problem. He hasn’t. A storm is blowing in. Maybe you saw tree branches swaying.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You’re just spooked because of the attack at the warehouses. Flores’s driver must have led the enemy right to them.”

  Two men rounded the corner, each carrying weapons in their hands. Joe signaled Sam to take the man on the left, the smaller of the two. He still outweighed her by a good 60 pounds but he was closer to her height. The second man was Joe’s.

  They waited until the men walked past the bushes and continued their discussion before moving from cover. Joe tackled his target from behind, deliberately drawing the attention of the smaller man to give Sam a better chance to take the thug by surprise. He trusted Sam to make sure her target didn’t nail him in the back of the head with a bullet.

  A swift intake of breath and a heavy thud behind him told Joe that Sam had dispatched her soldier. He grunted as his opponent managed to land a blow to his ribs. Joe slammed his fist into the enemy’s throat, crushing his windpipe. Shock widened the other man’s eyes as he struggled to breathe. Soon, the light in his eyes dimmed and his struggles ceased.

  “Let’s hide these two with their friend. Clock’s ticking.” Joe and Sam dragged the two men behind the bushes.

  “Five, two more tangos down.” Joe took the lead again as they approached the window of the room they had chosen as their entrance point. If it proved to be occupied, he and Sam would find another entry point.

  He jumped, grasped the small ledge, and carefully peered over the bottom of the window. A storage room. No people. Perfect. Joe glanced at Sam and gave her a nod.

  Dropping to the ground again, Joe crouched and threaded his fingers together to provide support for Sam’s foot. As soon as she placed her foot in the cradle he created, Joe lifted her. She quickly unlocked and raised the window, then climbed inside.

  “Clear,” she whispered into the mic.

  Joe hoisted himself through the window and dropped soundlessly to the floor in a crouch, weapon up and tracking. He activated his mic. “Team 6 inside target building.”

  “Copy,” Nico acknowledged.

  According to the infrared images gathered with the Fortress satellite, the women were being held in a room at the end of this hallway. He and Sam had taken care of three roaming guards on this side of the compound. Their intel suggested that four soldiers were posted inside this building to guard the women.

  Joe motioned for Sam to take position on his left side. He slowly twisted the door knob and eased the door open a crack. No movement and dim lighting. The room they’d chosen to breach was just inside the entrance to the hallway.

  He opened the door further. Light flickered to their left. A television. At least one of the soldiers was distracted for the moment. Joe signaled Sam to follow him. They followed the sounds of the action flick to a room with a large-screen television, leather furniture, and one snoozing guard. In less than a minute, Joe crossed the room with silent steps, clamped a hand over the man’s mouth, and slit his throat. They couldn’t afford to leave a threat at their backs. The lives of the women depended on them.

  He and Sam returned to the hall and made their way toward the room that contained the women. Snoring could be heard through the door of one of the rooms they passed. Excellent.

  The operatives entered the room in silence, killed the second guard, and returned to the hallway. At least two of the four guards were down. That left two unaccounted for.

  Joe and Sam continued toward the room containing the women. They checked each room as they passed. All empty. Were the two remaining guards inside the room with their captives?

  The possibility made Joe’s stomach knot. Close quarters combat with civilians in the room was not his first choice of places to engage the enemy. Too easy for a stray bullet to hit an innocent victim.

  Didn’t have a choice, though. The guards had to be taken out before they became aware the compound was under attack.

  When they arrived at their target room, Joe grasped the knob and twisted. The room beyond was dimly lit. Four women lay on mattresses, chained to grommets on the concrete floor.

  One of the guards stood with his back to the room, watching out the window into the darkness. Where was the other guard?

  A repositioning of booted feet clued Joe in to the other man’s location. He looked at Sam and used hand signals to tell her where the guards were stationed. She nodded and indicated she’d take the guard closest to the door.

  Joe counted down with his fingers. He kicked the door open, dove into the room, and shot the guard who turned from the window with a shout and a handgun pointed in his direction. The women screamed as the guard flew back against the window, breaking the glass. He slid to the floor as Sam shot the other guard.

  Joe covered the distance to the man he’d shot and checked for a pulse. Nothing. He rose and started to turn toward the women when Sam shouted, “Gun!”

  Joe dove to the floor away from the women. A shot rang o
ut in the room followed a split second later by another shot. Pain exploded in Joe’s thigh as he hit the ground and rolled to his stomach, weapon trained on the doorway. “Sparky?”

  “I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m hit.”

  “How bad?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t want to look, either.”

  Sam scrambled to his side and tore at his pants leg, then activated her mic. “Five, my partner’s down.” She unbuckled her belt and cinched it around Joe’s thigh to slow the bleeding. He hissed. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  Jesse Phelps, the Texas unit’s medic broke in. “I’m on it.”

  “Copy,” Nico acknowledged. “How bad, Sam?”

  “Bullet to the thigh. I haven’t been able to assess the extent of the damage yet.”

  “Joe?”

  “Hurts like crazy. I think it’s a through and through. I’m not mobile.” Sam couldn’t work on him, soothe the women, and protect all of them at the same time.

  “One minute,” Phelps whispered.

  “Copy,” he murmured. Joe groaned as he moved to a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall. He prayed he stayed conscious long enough to protect Sam and the other women until the other medic arrived.

  He waved her toward the women. “See if you can calm them before Phelps gets here.”

  “You’re the one who’s hurt.”

  “I’ll survive. They’ll be more likely to respond to you since you’re a woman. Once they’re free, the women can’t run into the compound with getting shot or recaptured. You have to convince them to stay in place until it’s safe.”

  Sam spoke softly to the women as she picked the locks on the collars around their necks, telling them to remain calm and stay in place until it was safe to leave the room.

  A moment later, Phelps said, “I’m down the hall and coming in soft. Tell the women I’m with you so I won’t terrorize them more than they already are.”

  “Copy,” Sam acknowledged and conveyed the information to the women.

  Although his vision was starting to blur, Joe trained his weapon on the doorway. Phelps stepped into the room.

  Once more, Sam reassured the captives that Phelps was there to help. Once she was assured they wouldn’t panic, she motioned for him to take over freeing the women from their chains.

  She ran to Joe’s side, dropped to her knees, and slid off her mike bag. “Let me see.” Sam pushed aside his hand, ripped the fabric of his pants further, and smoothed the ragged edges away from his wounded thigh.

  Joe growled as the pain spiked. “How bad?”

  “Just a scratch.” She winked at him, then concentrated on examining his wound. “You’re right. A through and through. I can’t tell if the bullet nicked the bone without an x-ray. No weight on it until we know how bad the injury is.”

  “Patch me up until we get to Sorenson’s clinic. I’m not letting anyone but you work on me in this country.”

  “That’s the plan. Guess we’ll have a few weeks to recuperate together.”

  “Can’t think of a better partner to recuperate with.”

  Sam pulled out packets of QuikClot. Joe grimaced. Man, he hated that stuff. It did the job, though. He clenched his hands and gritted his teeth, preparing for the searing pain. Just before Sam poured, he sent a pointed glance to Phelps who knelt on his other side. The other medic acknowledged the unspoken order to protect Sam with his life.

  “Ready?” she murmured.

  “Do it.” He prayed he wouldn’t embarrass himself by passing out and becoming more of a hindrance to the operation than he already was.

  Sam ripped open one packet and dumped the powder into the wound at the front of his thigh.

  Joe dragged in a ragged breath and rode out the pain, beads of sweat forming on his skin. After applying a pressure bandage, Sam and Phelps eased him to his stomach and repeated the treatment on the wound at the back of his thigh. By the time she finished, Joe was weak and felt like puking his guts out. No way would he be able to maneuver from the compound under his own steam.

  Sam activated her mic again. “Five, the women are free. I patched my partner for now. We need to get him out of here.”

  “Five minutes. Our fed friend called in a favor with a group of federales that he’s familiar with and trusts. They’ll be here soon. We need to be gone by the time they arrive.”

  “Copy.” She glanced down at Joe who still rested on his stomach. “You hanging in there with me?”

  “No way I’m leaving you with Tex here guarding your back. Don’t want to give him a chance to make a move on my woman.”

  Phelps chuckled. “Like that, is it?”

  “Yep. Hands off.” Joe frowned. His words were slurring. Why?

  A soft hand cupped his cheek. “You lost a lot of blood. Rest. We’ll give you a pint of blood on the jet.”

  He sighed. His eyelids were so heavy he couldn’t keep them open any longer. “Protect her,” he murmured to Phelps.

  “I’ve got her and you, buddy. Don’t worry.”

  With that reassurance, Joe quit fighting the darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Joe scowled at the taciturn world-class trauma surgeon turned veterinarian. “I want out of here, Doc. Don’t tell me I’m not ready to travel yet.” He’d been in Sorenson’s clinic for two days. The walls were starting to close in on him. All he wanted to do was go home to Nashville to recuperate and take Sam with him. She hadn’t left his side for more than ten minutes during the past 60 hours. Joe was worried about her.

  Ted Sorenson snorted. “You have a medical degree in your Go bag, Gray?”

  “You know I don’t.” He glanced toward the door to be sure Sam wasn’t in sight. “Sam is wiped out. I have to get her home so she’ll rest. If you release me to recuperate in Nashville, she’ll relax enough to let go and sleep. She’s been catnapping since I was shot.”

  The doctor looked thoughtful.

  “Come on, Doc. The flight’s only a few hours and I promise to stretch out on the bed in the back of the jet the whole time.”

  “I want your word you’ll use the crutches I gave you for the next two weeks. Absolutely no weight on that leg until you’re cleared. And you are not to go on a mission for at least a month, possibly longer.”

  Joe started to protest but he was worried enough about Sam to promise almost anything to get her home. “I promise.”

  Still Sorenson hesitated.

  “Come on, man. Help me take care of the woman I love.”

  A deep sigh. “All right. I’ll prescribe pain meds and antibiotics for you to take. Don’t skip a dose. You need to see the doctor in Nashville in two weeks. You have to take time off. Your leg needs time to mend.”

  “No problem. As long as I have Sam with me, I won’t mind the vacation time.”

  “You going to marry the lady?”

  “I’m not letting her get away.”

  Sorenson gave a slow nod. “Good. She’s an amazing woman.”

  “No argument from me.”

  “Well, I’ll get your meds ready and let Maddox know you’re cleared to leave. I understand the jet has been fueled and ready since you came out of surgery.” A wry smile curved the doctor’s face. “Your boss knows you well.”

  Sam walked into the room a few minutes later with Trace on her heels. “Hey, I hear we’re going home.”

  “As soon as Sorenson brings my meds and Trace helps me dress.” He glanced at the crutches propped against the wall. “I’m stuck hopping around on those things for the next two weeks.”

  “I’ll see if Dr. Sorenson wants help preparing the meds while Trace works with you.” A slow smile spread over her face. “The doc said the rape kit results were negative.” With those words, Sam walked out and closed the door behind her.

  Relief had Joe sagging against the hospital bed. Thank God.

  “How did you get the doc to agree to release you?” the sniper asked as he assisted Joe in dragging on his cargoes.

&nbs
p; Joe yanked his black t-shirt over his head before answering. “Told him Sam wasn’t sleeping well and wouldn’t until I got her home.”

  Trace chuckled. “Smart man. The doc has a soft spot for our medic.” He stared at Joe a moment. “You planning to marry Sam?”

  “I’m not stupid. You bet I am.”

  “Good.”

  An hour later, the Fortress jet raced down the runway of the Bayside airport in Texas and lifted into the air, bound toward Nashville. In the bedroom at the back of the plane, door open for Sam to hear if a teammate needed her, Joe held out his hand to the woman he loved. “Come here.”

  “You should be resting.”

  He motioned to the bed he was sitting on, his back pressed to the headboard. “I promised Sorenson to stretch out my leg. I’m doing that. Doesn’t mean I can’t hold you while I’m following his orders. Come here, Sparky. You’re exhausted and so am I. I’ll rest better if you’re in my arms.”

  She looked doubtful but settled against his uninjured side.

  He tugged her closer, her head resting against his shoulder. “I love you, Sam.”

  “I love you, too.” One hand stroked over his chest.

  Joe’s heart raced. Would she reject him? “Enough to marry me?”

  His question stilled her movements. “You want to marry me?”

  “I want everything with you. A home, a family, a dog. Please say you’ll marry me. I need you, Sam.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. Sam smiled. “I would love to be your wife.”

  “Fantastic.” He captured her mouth in a deep, hot kiss. When he came up for air, Joe asked, “Any objections to a Christmas wedding?”

  Sam blinked. “That’s six months away. Why Christmas?”

  “I want the chance to romance you the right way. That means dates. Lots of dates and time for the two of us to really get to know each other as a couple. I want you to trust me with every part of your heart. Will you let me do this for us?”

  “Of course. I adore you, Joe.”

  He dropped another kiss on her mouth. “Perfect. We’re a matched pair. We’re going to have a great life together, my love.” He couldn’t wait to get started. Joe fell asleep, holding the woman of his dreams against his heart.