by Mandy Harbin
“And?”
“And, that was before.” He said as if that answered the question. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but her heart screamed it was because before he didn’t know her.
He’d been ordered before they met. Before he had feelings for her.
“Axle—”
“The defector is Private William Adin Richardson. His initials spell out W.A.R. Weird-ass coincidence or battle-buff parents, I don’t know. He was captured and sent to a CIA black site for interrogation.”
He’d given her the name. The one she’d sought. The one that would break her story. There was a reason people didn’t know much about black sites. They were so classified they were off the books. With that man being held in one, she’d likely never learn his name.
Axle had told her.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“Don’t use my name. They’re gonna figure out how you found out anyway. I’m the only one on your detail that knows. My SEAL team was briefed on him before we went to the Achin District to scope out the tunnels.”
Her mind raced. “I’ll find a witness who can corroborate. No one will have to know you’re my source.”
“You know now. Once we’re out of this mess, I’m informing the Major General.”
He couldn’t do that! He’d get in trouble for sure. “Axle.”
“Time to go,” he said, getting up quickly and pulling her with him. She tried to argue with him as they raced down the stairs back into the classroom with the children, but he was focused.
The kids hovered around now, no longer under the false safety of their tables. Axle motioned for them to get down as he scanned the area.
Three shots suddenly fired in rapid succession right by her, but they hadn’t come from Axle.
Time slowed as those words repeated in her brain…
They. Hadn’t. Come. From. Axle.
He roared, and she gasped, turning in the direction of the bullets. But the end of a rifle flew passed her face, barely missing her, tripping her up.
She fell to the ground just as object slammed into Axle’s head. Children screamed and ran in various directions.
She scrambled back, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Had one of the children done this? Had she and Axle fled the dangers of the hardened man only to be taken out by a new generation taught to blindly follow?
She didn’t want to believe in lost innocence.
Oh, God. This can’t be happening.
Everything happened so fast within the haze of slow motion, but it all had registered. She followed the gun as it was raised from the point of contact with Axle’s skull, catching sight of all the blood. His head. His leg. It oozed from several places on his body. The sight of him limp and injured made her wail as tears immediately began to fall.
Axle had been shot.
He’d been knocked out.
God, please let him just be knocked out.
Someone grabbed her hair and tried to yank her up, but when she saw the person standing above her, she gasped. It didn’t make sense why she was seeing him right now, here in this room full of children.
Holding a bloody gun.
But he was, and in the instant she saw the shooter, everything changed.
Chapter Fourteen
“Lorenzo? What the hell?” she screamed, and he let go to aim his gun at her.
“You have no fucking clue what you got yourself into. Sorry, bella. Get up.”
“What’s the matter with you? You shot him!” Screaming at a man with a gun was a stupid idea, but the retort was out before she thought better of it. She scooted away from him, from the children, trying to put some distance between them all and edge closer to Axle. It took everything she had not to look at the man she loved. Because she did. God help her, she was in love with Axle.
If she looked at him, and he was dead, she’d fall apart, like seriously lose it.
“Asad is like a brother to me!” he roared. “No way has he been discharged. No one’s heard from him. Those fuckers have him detained somewhere.”
He did this because some guy got reassigned? It wouldn’t be the first time someone exacted revenge for a job loss, but it was usually the person who’d been canned who went off the deep end.
She needed to figure out how to reason with him, but a part of her told her it wouldn’t work. If he’d been willing to shoot someone, Lorenzo was past the point of no return already. He needed professional help. Too bad there wasn’t a psychiatrist around. She glanced around the room. Or another adult. There was no one else to help her—who was conscious. It would be up to her to find the humanity in him. “That doesn’t make any sense, Lorenzo. They don’t just detain people for no reason,” she said gently.
“He’s Aarif Yasin’s cousin.”
“What?” She frowned at him. How had the man gotten clearance to work with the military if he was related to a possible terrorist? At the very least, this information would’ve been disclosed.
If they’d known about it.
They must not have. She got the feeling this little detail was learned right about the time he’d been discharged from duty.
She inched closer to Axle until she was sitting against him. When her bottom bumped into this side, he didn’t stir.
He made no move at all.
Caitlin bit back a sob. She couldn’t lose it. Not right now. She looked at the children again, trying to assess the situation.
They looked terrified.
Earlier, they hadn’t been affected by the sounds of war, but this was different.
They weren’t involved in whatever Lorenzo was up to. Relief flooded her that she didn’t have a roomful of threats, and also because these kids’ instincts hadn’t been to attack her and Axle as Lorenzo was doing.
“You heard me,” he said, and her gaze shot to him. “Why do you think I’ve been directing you to certain people to interview? Asad had inside info, not that he could come out and share it. It’s why I needed him here.”
Her mind reeled. “You brought him in to get a story?”
“Don’t act so high and mighty. When the news breaks about the private involved in the arms deal, you’ll be a household name.” His words made her sick; her own words earlier about it potentially being the story of her career left her feeling cold. The weird gleam in his eyes only exasperated that negativity. She had journalistic integrity, but in this moment, she felt dirty because of Lorenzo. It didn’t matter that the man had lost his marbles, assuming he’d had any to begin with. “You should be thanking me. William Adin Richardson sold out your country, and you get to tell the world.”
Yep, he was crazy.
How was she going to get away from him? How was she going to get Axle to safety? She looked around the room again. How am I going to save these kids? She wasn’t strong enough to move Axle, and he was the only one who knew some of the language. She couldn’t communicate anything to the children except some hand gestures. She could run for help. He’d said Acker and Haverty were almost here, but she wasn’t leaving Axle. No freaking way. She had to figure something out, and she had to do it quickly.
Lorenzo checked his watch as another explosion rocked the town. A revoltingly sick feeling slid over her. Lorenzo had shot Axle, but no way could he have caused the damage in the village all by himself. “You knew about this attack today.” It wasn’t a question because she already knew the answer.
A sly smile formed on his face. “Live footage of insurgents is news gold.”
“You’re sick,” she breathed, not sure if he heard her since the battle raged on in the tiny town, but farther away, thanks to Axle taking out the closer jihadists.
“I’m practical. At least I was until the military up and tossed Asad in some jail. He was my source for years, damn you, years! Now, I need leverage to get him out.” He waved the gun as if ordering her to get up.
“You won’t get away with this.”
He laughed, the sound so sickening she had to swall
ow the bile that rose in her throat. “I have for years. You think lover boy over there’s the first time there’s been collateral damage? There’s good money in American soldiers.”
No, though she didn’t have to say it out loud. Her hand brushed along Axle’s leg. The cool metal of his sidearm tucked between them made her pulse thunder in her veins. He’d shown her how to use it under life or death circumstances. This totally qualified. If she could just pull it out without Lorenzo seeing…
“Time to go. Move your ass,” he said, glancing behind himself.
She had to stall just a little more. “They won’t negotiate.” She didn’t tack on with terrorists because she didn’t want to offend him with the term.
His face fell a little. “You are a beauty. It’ll be a shame when they decapitate you after Asad is freed.” He raised his left hand and shut that eye as he regarded her clinically. “I’ll make sure the lighting is perfect, and I’ll record it from your good side. It’ll be so tragically beautiful.”
Oh God. No marbles. Not even rolling around at his feet.
He reached for her, and she didn’t hesitate. Axle’s instructions came back to her in a rush on how to fire the gun. On adrenaline-fueled instinct, she grabbed the gun, pulled it around, and fired several shots. The first and forth ones went wide and up because she’d feared hitting one of the children, but the middle two shots got him, and he fell to the ground. Wow, she’d actually hit him. She’d shot a man. She’d killed him.
She doubted this was what Jack meant when he’d told her, “Be the story.”
She immediately shoved that thought out of her brain, and she whirled to Axle. She patted along his back, trying not to gag at the blood pooling at his leg. She felt his wrist and almost collapsed over him in relief.
He had a pulse.
She didn’t know anything about vital signs or medical care, but she hoped it was strong. Please, God, let him make it.
As guns continued to fire outside them, she yanked off her hijab and scarf and quickly worked, tying them around his leg wounds. “Axle, can you hear me?” she asked as she heaved him onto his back. She patted his face and looked along his body for other wounds, feeling a little relief when she didn’t find anymore.
He groaned, but didn’t move.
“Axle! Axle, wake up. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.” She looked at his ear and the contraption around his neck, wondering how the communication thingy worked. “Please, please, wake up.” She cried.
The kids started talking, and her gaze flew toward them. “It’s okay,” she said as calmly as she could muster. It wasn’t okay. None of this was, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. She had to come up with a plan.
She looked at Axle again. He still held his rifle. She could try to pull it from him and aim at the door in case anyone rushed the building. If anything, she could keep the kids safe until help arrived. But she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to move him enough to get his rifle. Too bad. You don’t have a choice!
She reached for that big scary gun, but it was strapped to him in a way she couldn’t remove it. She wanted to cry. “Wake up,” she whispered.
Then his words the night they’d gone to the range came back to her.
“This is my sidearm…I also have a knife here and here,” he said, pointing to the one at his belt and one hidden on his ankle... If you need more ammo, here’s where I’ll have extra magazines.”
She grabbed the knife easily visible and dropped it on the floor beside her, but there was blood caked near his foot where he’d pointed that night. She pushed back dark thoughts and got it anyway. Then she patted his chest and made her way down, not sure where the extra magazines would be in his vest thing. Excitement rushed through her when she felt something, and she quickly dug it out. Extra bullets.
“Yes.”
And something else. Another weapon he had on him that she hadn’t known he’d have. She wasn’t sure how much protection it’d provide, but it gave her an odd sense of calm having it in her palm.
The tactical pen.
Feeling her plan click into place, she pocketed the pen and tucked the handgun next to Axle. She picked up both of the knives she’d collected and stood. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to tell the children her plan, but she’d do her best. She had no other choice.
“I know you’re scared,” she said. “I am too, but I’ll be damned if anybody uses you today.” She didn’t know how to speak complete sentences in their language, but she said one of the few Pashto words she did know, hoping it’d help. “English?”
Most of the children—all boys, she noticed—looked at her without moving. One who was taller than the others nodded.
Relief flooded her. “Do you speak English?” He stared at her, not saying anything. “Do you know what I’m saying?”
His head bobbed as if an agreement.
Good. She could work with that. “Tell your friends they need to get in that closet over there.” She extended her arm in a gesture she hoped showed them to gather and follow.
The boy told them in their native tongue, and they all quickly ran to the closet. She held the door as they crowded in.
“Here,” she said to the one she’d been instructing. She handed him one of the two knives. She handed the other to the boy standing beside him at the front of the little room. “If a bad man comes, don’t let him get you.” She started to close the door and then stopped. “I know you don’t understand everything going on. No one does. I’m sorry.” She gave them a sad smile. “One of those guys who came with me or I will come get you when it’s safe. Stay here, okay?” She didn’t wait for answer. She wasn’t even sure if the boy who knew some English understood everything she’d just said.
Once the children were in a slightly safer place, she rushed back to Axle’s side, but jolted to a stop at what she saw.
“No,” she breathed. “I thought I killed you.”
Axle’s leg screamed. Pain burned, but he had difficulty figuring out why. The ringing in his ears wasn’t helping at all.
Noise got louder, and he stirred, trying to make sense of what happened. His leg wasn’t actually screaming, but somebody was. Why couldn’t he make his body work?
Someone touched him, and the scent of Caitlin washed over him. He loved the way she smelled. The way she tasted. The way she glared at him when he made her mad. God, he loved everything about her.
He loved her.
She said something to him, and he tried to respond, but he felt so heavy. Like he was dreaming but trying to move in real life. Maybe he was asleep with her lying beside him. He groaned at the thought of holding her to him and being lazy together all day. He couldn’t wait to feel her underneath him again…whenever he woke up.
“You have bad aim,” someone who sounded like Lorenzo said. Why was he dreaming about the cameraman? The man was probably going to flirt with Caitlin in his dream. This was a nightmare for sure. “Where’s your gun?”
He didn’t know where it was.
“I don’t have it,” Caitlin said.
Axle frowned at that.
“Looks like your bodyguard’s waking up. Think I’ll have some fun before I shoot him again.”
Fire laced through burning leg and the roar he’d tried to get out earlier finally came free as he broke through the fog of unconsciousness. He jolted up, hands slapping the ground beside him to find purchase, his left one landing on something cold and hard. His gaze, though, was on the foot crushing his wound.
The war.
The gunfire.
Caitlin.
It all came crashing back. Years of training, of shooting practice and torture drills, of real-life scenarios putting his skills to the test, kicked in.
Lorenzo was a threat.
The cold steel under his hand was his handgun. He wasn’t a natural lefty, but he could shoot hanging upside down in a sandstorm.
He also knew he had one mother of a concussion.
That was fine. He
could account for that. Channeling all of his strength and speed, he shut one eye to alleviate his double vision and growled out loud, hoping Lorenzo would take it as that of pain when he’d actually wanted to cover the sound of shifting the gun to get a good grip on it.
“Stop,” Caitlin screamed, and her steps sounded closer than before. “Let’s just go. You wanted to use me as leverage. You don’t have to hurt him.”
“I’m not leaving a payday behind.”
Lorenzo wasn’t taking her anywhere. He’d have to kill Axle first.
With practiced stealth, he raised the gun, but Caitlin lunged for Lorenzo. She hit him with something small in his arm, and he roared, turning his gun on her. Axle didn’t hesitate. He fired one, hitting Lorenzo in the head. He crumpled to the floor, and Axle fell back to the ground, trying to fight off the darkness. “Caitlin,” he breathed.
“Axle,” she yelled. Her hands traced his body. “I-I stuck him with your pen. You’ve been shot. The kids are—”
A door slammed, stopping her words or drowning them out, he wasn’t sure.
Caitlin gasped, and he tried to open his eyes. He would not let anyone else get to her. He didn’t know how, but he’d put himself between her and whoever the new threat was. He raised the gun in the direction.
“Easy,” Alec said.
“AA?” she asked, and Axle didn’t have to have his eyes open to know his team had made it to them. He dropped his weapon.
“That’s Double Alpha to you,” he said as he rushed toward them. “You did good, Sweet Pea.” He inspected what felt like a makeshift bandage. “Axle’s down. Need med evac.”
Axle squeezed his eyes. “Don’t flirt with her,” he breathed.
“Axle!” She stroked his face.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sir. Haverty’s on his way up to help me carry you. Don’t shoot him.”
“Fuck you,” he breathed, opening his eyes. He still saw double of everything. Except Caitlin. She seemed to be vibrating.
“Baby,” he breathed.
Acker looked at her. “Shit. You’re okay. Just a little shock. Stay with me, Sweet Pea.”