Chapter
At first Glenna didn’t realize the sound was gunfire. It was a sharp popping noise, as if someone were hammering in the distance. The only other time she’d heard gunfire, she’d been much closer. The bullets had passed so near she’d felt them slice the air. She’d thought she was going to die.
This time, it wasn’t the possibility of her own death that was uppermost in her mind.
She scrambled to her feet and raced toward the sliver of light that showed where the door was. Rafe. He was here. Please, God, keep him safe.
The popping continued in short bursts. A rumbling boom vibrated the floor beneath her feet. It sounded closer than the gunfire. There were shouts and the sound of running footsteps in the corridor. A man screamed and cried out in a language Glenna didn’t understand. There was another boom, this time close enough to rattle the door on its hinges.
More footsteps, heavier ones. Keys jingled, something scraped in the lock. Glenna barely had time to move out of the way before the door swung open and slammed against the wall.
Smoke billowed inside, bringing with it an acrid, chemical smell. Glenna coughed and peered at the man in the doorway. It wasn’t Rafe. It wasn’t any of the Delta commandos she’d grown to know. This man was dressed in white.
She whirled around and lurched for the shadows of the storeroom, but he latched on to her arm.
“You’re coming with me,” Juarez said, yanking her backward.
Glenna reacted without thinking. She brought her foot down as hard as she could, driving her heel into his instep.
He hissed out a string of foreign words and gave her a hard shake. “I should leave you to suffocate in the fire your friends have set, but you’re too valuable. Let’s go.”
Tears sprang to her eyes from the spurt of pain as he dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh of her upper arm, but she struggled anyway. Rafe was here. She could feel it. “No!”
He hooked his arm around her throat and pushed something hard and metallic into her ribs. She looked down. Through the dim light and the thickening haze of smoke that poured in from the corridor, she saw the gleam of a gun.
“Either you walk with me or I kill you here and carry you.” His breath on her cheek was hot and reeking of tobacco. He angled the end of the gun barrel against the underside of her breast. “As long as no one finds your body I can still negotiate. It is up to you, bitch.”
The threat wasn’t a bluff. She knew clearly that she could die in the next instant unless she obeyed.
Something flashed before her eyes. It wasn’t her past that she saw, nor was it all the things she hadn’t done. Unlike before, she had no regrets—she had lived, she had taken a chance on love. This time, what she saw was her future.
And dear God, she had a lot of living left to do.
Strength flowed into her and her panic ebbed. She would survive. Somehow, she would find her way back to Rafe
Juarez shoved Glenna out of the storeroom and started down the corridor with her in front of him. He shouted orders to the guards, but they seemed to be milling about in confusion as the gunfire grew louder and the smoke grew thicker. The chemical smell was mixed with a sickly sweet tang. Delta must have destroyed the drug lab that was near the loading bay, Glenna thought. It would only be a matter of minutes before they worked their way here.
Glenna purposely stumbled when they reached the junction of the corridors, trying to delay their headlong rush, but Juarez didn’t slow their pace. He pushed her into the middle corridor, the one she’d never been down, and roughly guided her forward.
“Loading bay secure.” Esposito’s voice in Rafe’s earpiece was accompanied by the crackle of flames. “Proceeding up the east corridor.”
“Second story clear,” Redinger said. “Opposition neutralized.”
More voices reported as Rafe sprinted down the west corridor to the basement. The mission was going precisely as planned. The team had glided out of the night in dead silence, their black clothing and gear making them practically invisible to Juarez’s guards until they were on top of them.
The resistance was fierce but short-lived. Swiftly and methodically, each area of the compound was cleared as the team worked their way into the middle. Already the house’s entrance hall was filling with the prone forms of prisoners who were lying facedown on the marble floor, their hands clasped behind their necks, their weapons stacked in a heap at the foot of the staircase.
But Juarez’s office had been deserted. Rafe knew they’d given no warning before he and Flynn had burst through the window in a shower of glass shards, yet they’d found only an empty room. Could she be in the basement storeroom where Juarez had held them before?
The smoke from Esposito’s explosives cut the light in half, but as soon as Rafe saw the gaping black doorway, he knew this room was empty, too. She wasn’t here.
There was a burst of gunfire behind him. Rafe glanced back to see two of Juarez’s guards crumple to the floor. Flynn stepped out of the smoke and bent down to bind the wrists of the men he’d just immobilized.
Rafe pivoted to retrace his steps to the junction of the corridors. Without hesitating, he ran down the middle one.
Only a few yards in, he realized the smoke was thinner here. There was a cool breeze coming from somewhere ahead. Another exit? The team had formed their plan of attack on the assumption they would have Juarez cornered. Rafe activated his transmitter. It was time to figure out Plan B.
Time became a fast-forward blur. Glenna wasn’t sure how far they went before she noticed that the smoke had disappeared. There was a muggy breeze coming from somewhere ahead. Could it be another exit? They’d had no hint of this when they’d constructed the model of the compound. What if Juarez had reinforcements waiting there? What if they were able to surprise the Delta Force men and turn the tables?
Glenna twisted her head and screamed. She doubted anyone would hear her, but she had to try to warn them yway.
Pain burst in her cheek as Juarez slapped her. “Do not make me reconsider my generosity,” he said. “I can just as easily kill you.”
The corridor ended in a set of steps that led up to a steel door. Juarez hauled her back against his chest, wedging the gun firmly under her chin before he flung open the door and crossed the threshold. He was using her for a shield, Glenna realized, the same way one of the hijackers had held her in the doorway of the plane.
But there was no sunlit expanse of pavement in front of them, just a narrow dirt path that led into the black shadows of the rain forest. The only light came from behind them, where the sky glowed orange from the cloud of smoke that billowed from the house.
She looked around as they moved forward, but there was no sign of anyone else. Thank God. Her fears that Juarez might have had reinforcements here were unfounded. The only sound came from some kind of bird that called from the undergrowth on their left. It was answered seconds later by one to their right.
Glenna suddenly realized that the reason she could hear the birds was because the gunfire had stopped.
The assault must be over. Who had won?
A bird called again. It sounded from behind them, closer than before and more like a whistle than a chirp. Glenna felt her heart leap. She peered into the darkness.
And the darkness came alive. Six large, black-clad men materialized from the jungle and converged on the path.
They didn’t ask Juarez to surrender. They never gave him a choice. In his white suit, he stood out like a beacon. As his finger tightened on the trigger, the gun he held to Glenna’s chin was knocked aside. There was a sharp crunch and Juarez shrieked.
Noise exploded beside Glenna’s ear. Something stung her temple an instant before she was pulled off her feet and wrapped in a hard embrace.
The stinging in her temple turned into a sharp pain. Numbness spread over her body but she fought to stay awake. She couldn’t see the face of the man who held her, but her heart knew who it was. Her heart had always recognized him. She smiled a
nd laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “Rafe,” she whispered. “I knew you would…”
But whatever she had wanted to say would have to wait. The blackness that cloaked the jungle reached out to engulf her, replacing the pain with unconsciousness.
“How is she?”
Rafe stroked Glenna’s hair back from the bandage on her temple. “The doctor checked her ten minutes ago. He said the swelling inside her skull has gone down and her pressure’s back to normal, so she should wake up soon.”
Flynn stood at the foot of the hospital bed and crumpled his hat in his fists. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I thought I’d been fast enough.”
“You were, Flynn. The bullet only grazed her. It was the concussion that knocked her out.” Rafe moved his gaze from the bandage to the reddened skin on her cheek. The powder burns weren’t bad enough to scar. The tinge of purple from the place where Juarez had struck her was already beginning to fade to blue. Aing to the doctors who had treated her, chances were excellent that she’d make a complete recovery.
How many times would he have to tell himself that before the hollow churning in his gut finally eased?
“Yeah, but it’s my fault he had the chance to fire,” Flynn said.
Rafe twisted on the chair to look at his friend. Unlike Rafe, Flynn had taken the time to clean up and put on a fresh uniform before he’d come to the hospital. Every man on the team had volunteered to sit with Glenna so that Rafe could do the same, but Rafe hadn’t let her out of his sight since he’d snatched her away from Juarez.
He’d gone over the events of the night before at least a hundred times during the trip back to the base. Was there something he could have done differently? Could he have found the hidden exit and set up the ambush sooner? Or should they have waited and moved later? Maybe. Maybe not. Those were yet more questions he would never know the answer to. “Juarez was the one who pulled the trigger, not you,” Rafe said. “Glenna wouldn’t blame you. She’s not like that.”
“Well, I’m sorry anyway.”
Rafe wanted to say something about forgiveness, but the concept was still too new to him. It was going to take time. Still, the process had already begun, and with Glenna’s help…
He hitched his chair closer to the bed and took Glenna’s hand as he remembered her words. “We can’t rewrite the past,” he murmured. “But we can overcome it.”
“I heard Leonardo’s going to get a cell near Arturo as soon as his cast comes off.”
Rafe smiled grimly. “How many bones did you break when you grabbed his hand, Flynn?”
“Only three.”
“He was lucky.”
“Yeah. The chief says I need to increase my hours in the weight room.” Flynn mashed his hat some more. “Rafe, remember those things I said a few days ago…”
“What things?”
“About women and not getting serious.”
“You want to apologize about that, too?”
“Hey, don’t push it. I’m not planning to give up my freedom for anyone. I just wanted to say that you were with us more than a hundred percent on this mission. Maybe Glenna’s not that bad for you after all.”
“Not that bad?” Rafe shook his head. “Flynn, she is the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire sorry life.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Sarah swept into the room, her arms laden with an arrangement of flowers that she could barely see over. “Where do you want these, Rafe? I had to hit practically every shop in Fayetteville to find them for you.”
He twined his fingers with Glenna’s as he glanced around the room. There wasn’t an empty surface left. Bouquets had been arriving all morning. There were flowers from Glenna’s friends at the hotel, a tasteful orchid arrangement in a crystal vase from her mother, even flers that had been sent from florists. Yet most of the vegetation that crowded the tables and the windowsill was from the men of Eagle Squadron.
“Thanks, Sarah,” Rafe said. “Can you fit them on the tray table?”
“Sure.” Sarah pushed aside the potted violet Esposito had brought from his wife’s greenhouse and set the flowers down on the high, narrow table. “She’s going to love seeing all of this when she wakes up.” She paused as she looked at Glenna. “Any word on when that might be, Rafe?”
“Any minute now.”
“I heard her prognosis is excellent.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s a pretty determined woman. I think she would have made a good officer.”
“I had the same thought myself.”
“Who gave her the teddy bear?” Sarah asked, waving toward the huge stuffed toy that was leaning in the corner beside the window. “It’s cute.”
“The major.”
Flynn guffawed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“For some reason, the gift shop downstairs had run out of flowers, Sergeant.”
At Redinger’s voice, Flynn straightened and turned toward the door. “Sir, I meant no disrespect.”
“At ease, O’Toole.” Rather than entering the room, the Major stayed in the doorway. “Is there any change, Rafe?”
“Not yet, Major.”
“Let me know when she’s lucid. The DEA and the State Department want to talk to her.”
“If they want to talk to her, they’ll have to get in line behind me, sir.”
One corner of the major’s mouth lifted. “Yes, I imagine they will. This might be a good time to take that leave you wanted. Consider it effective as of now. You’ve got ten days.”
“Thank you.”
“As for you, Sergeant O’Toole, the debriefing starts in five minutes.”
“Right. I’m on my way.” Flynn moved around the bed and squeezed Rafe’s shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy.”
“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ve got no intention of retreating.”
Redinger turned to go. “Captain?”
“I’ll be right with you, Major.” Sarah regarded Glenna in silence for a moment, then smiled at Rafe across the bed. “It’s going to work out, Rafe,” she said softly. “I believe you and Glenna are two of the lucky ones.”
Rafe thought about that as his friends left the room. Lucky? He wasn’t sure that luck had much to do with it. They were what they made of themselves. And he planned to do everything in his power to make a future with
As long as she’d have him, that is.
Rafe pressed his lips to Glenna’s knuckles. “Wake up, princess,” he murmured. “Wake up, even if it’s just so you can tell me what an idiot I am.”
Her chest rose and fell beneath the pale blue hospital gown. Fluid dripped from the IV bag suspended near the head of the bed into the tube in her arm. Otherwise, there was no movement.
“Because I am an idiot. I’ve been so wrapped up in my past that I couldn’t see the present. I was the one who didn’t recognize reality, not you.”
Her eyes remained closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks.
“I’ve got ten days,” he said. “We’ll go somewhere quiet, okay? Just the two of us. No schedules, no missions, no day planners. How about New Orleans? We could take in some jazz, go on some real dates, do all those things we skipped.”
No reply.
“Please, wake up, Glenna. I need to talk to you. I need to see you open those green eyes and—” He swallowed hard. Emotions that had been buried for years were gathering into a thick lump in his throat.
It still hurt. But it was a good kind of pain. The pain of healing. “I need you,” he whispered. “You. Whether you’re Glenna Hastings or Glenna Vanderhayden. Whether you’re working in some fancy Manhattan office or stealing the last piece of pecan pie from the commissary, you’ll always be my Glenna.”
Was that a tremor in her fingers? Or was it his own hand that shook? Rafe leaned closer, pressing a kiss in the center of her palm. “Come on, princess. You can do it.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
Rafe tightened his grip. “Glenna?”
She heard his voice, but it sounded rough. She could feel his worry through the tension in his hand. She struggled to push through the haze that surrounded her.
He was leaning over her. His jaw and his good cheek bristled with beard stubble. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes. An oily-looking stain smeared the shoulder of his black jumpsuit. He looked terrible. And he was the most wonderful sight in the world. Glenna smiled. “Hello, Rafe.”
He didn’t say anything right away. He swallowed first, his throat working. “Hello, Glenna,” he rasped. “Welcome back.”
Her smile dimmed. She moistened her lips as she tried to figure out what was going on. Her head felt thick, as if she’d been asleep for too long, yet her senses seemed to be working with startling clarity. There were flowers everywhere, a banquet of color and scent. “Where are we?”
“We’re back at Bragg. In the hospital. You were grazed by a bullet when Juarez discharged his pistol.”
The nightmare burst full-blown into her mind. She remembered everything. The horror of her captivity, the fear and the gunfire, the scuffle in the darkness…and then Rafe’s arms holding her, keeping her safe.
That was the important part. She was safe. They both weurned her head, then winced at the sudden throb of discomfort.
“Glenna?”
He sounded so worried, she tried to reassure him. “I’m all right, Rafe. I just…have a headache.”
“You have a concussion from the bullet. I’ll see if they can give you something for the pain.”
“Rafe, it isn’t bad. I’m—”
He was already on his way to the door. He called for a nurse. A few moments later, a matronly woman hurried in and checked Glenna’s vitals. When she was finished, she nodded approvingly and scribbled in a chart.
Glenna declined her offer of pain medication. She didn’t want to be sedated. She didn’t want to rest as the nurse advised, either. She wanted to see Rafe.
The nurse left with the same bustling efficiency with which she’d entered, pausing only long enough to caution Rafe not to tire her patient. He closed the door behind her and returned to stand beside the bed. He lifted his hand, his fingertips whispering over Glenna’s hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to take anything?”
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