by Desiree Holt
He pulled out the Draco, set the lever, pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. Immediately bullets hit the water near the boats, kicking up tiny waves.
“Get Mal inside,” Blaze hollered. “We’ll handle this.”
Rocket swore, just hefted Mallory over his shoulder and ran toward the chopper while the others laid down cover fire. But before he had moved more than three steps, another spray of bullets hit the rocks and sent debris flying, some of it stinging against his skin. He didn’t know if it was the chips of rock or the bullets that hit them. He had nearly made it to the helo when he felt her jerk in his arms and cry out. Immediately he felt the warmth of blood on his arm where it pressed against her ribs.
Fuck.
He wanted to stop and look, but he knew it was more important to get to the safety of the chopper. He just raced the last couple of steps, fear welling in his throat as he felt the blood spreading, while the others returned more fire to the boats. He was barely aware of everyone backing toward the helo, still firing, doing their best to avoid the bullets hitting the rocks.
Rocket had placed Mallory carefully across two of the chopper’s seats, grateful that this was one of the larger birds, and was frantically trying to stem the flow of blood from her side.
“There’s a first aid kit under the other seat in the cockpit,” Saint hollered at them, “if someone can grab it. My hands are a little full right now.”
Blaze dug it out, opened it and began handing stuff to Rocket.
“The bullet hit a rib and burrowed inside,” he said. “We gotta get her to a hospital.”
“Pack it good,” Blaze told him, “so you can slow the bleeding.”
“I know that, damn it. Saint, is there a hospital in Manzanillo that has a helipad on its roof?”
“The Navy Hospital does,” Ed told them. “Making contact with them.”
“Okay. Checking right now,” Saint yelled back. “Everyone in?”
“We are now,” Eagle yelled as he hauled Ed into the cabin. He slammed the cabin door closed as the chopper lifted off the ground and away from the cliff. “Goose it.”
With bullets still flying around them, Saint lifted the chopper off the cliff and sidestepped away from the danger zone. Seconds later, they were in the air and headed toward Manzanillo.
Rocket’s hands were shaking so badly he was having trouble making a pressure bandage for Mallory’s side.
Blaze crowded in beside him. “Let me. Come on, Rocket. I’ll take care of it.”
Rocket watched as Blaze efficiently pressed material into place against the wound and wound tape around it to hold it in place.
“That’s the best I can do,” he said. “But it’ll hold until we get to the hospital. It’s not that far.”
He’d have to call Alicia Kane and tell her that her sister was safe, but not until they were out of here and at the hospital. For now, he stayed in position as the chopper swept through the night. The others had moved into empty seats with their backpacks, but everyone’s focus was on Mallory. Even Ed, who rolled up his pantleg to temporarily remove his prosthesis. Rocket barely noticed the redness and irritation on the stump of the leg. He’d worry about Ed later. Right now, all he could think about was Mallory.
And pray.
Chapter Fifteen
Their arrival at the Navy Hospital had prompted a flurry of activity. Three people in scrubs were waiting with a gurney. As soon as Saint touched down, they lifted Mallory from the chopper, strapped her carefully onto the gurney and raced into the hospital.
“There’s a surgical waiting room,” one of them hollered back. “We’ll look for you there.”
The rotors on the chopper finally stopped spinning, but Rocket hadn’t waited for that. He’d raced after the gurney and followed it down the hallway to an elevator. The medical personnel with Mallory started to tell him he’d have to wait, but one look at his face and they managed to crowd in and make room for him.
He followed them all the way from the elevator to a set of double doors with Surgical Suite painted on them.
“You can wait in there.” A man in scrubs pointed to a room to their left. “There’s coffee and magazines. We’ll get a report to you as soon as we can.”
It killed him that he couldn’t follow them all the way to the operating room, but he knew making a fuss would only delay things. There were some chairs against the walls, but he was too on edge to sit. He thought about coffee, but caffeine was the last thing he needed. He was pacing the floor when the others arrived.
“I’d tell you to take it easy,” Blaze told him, “but I know my words would fall on deaf ears. I’ll just say pacing doesn’t make the time go faster. And Mallory is in good hands.”
“I know.” Rocket nodded. “But I don’t think I can sit still.”
All the missions he’d been on where he’d often had to sit still for hours, all the hours of training where he’d been unable to move, still hadn’t prepared him for this. He’d never pictured himself falling in love. He’d never felt that kind of connection with any woman, although he hadn’t been looking for it, but Mallory was different. Whatever was between them had been simmering since Afghanistan, and now he couldn’t imagine his life without her. Their time together in the hut had reinforced that. Now he just wanted all this shit over with.
Saint strode into the room, stopped and looked around.
“Any news?”
Rocket shook his head. “Not yet. Praying hard.”
“Chopper’s okay for now on the helipad,” Saint told them, “but I told the guard I’d move it in a few. I can take it back to vacation rentals, catch a ride to where we parked the rental car and drive back here if someone gives me the keys.”
“Here you go.” Blaze dug into his pocket and tossed the key ring to him.
“So.” Saint stuffed the keys in his pocket. “When I pulled away from the cliff, I got a good look at the decks of both boats, and guess what I saw? A couple of bodies.”
“Bodies?” Viper echoed.
“Uh-huh. At least two, so you guys did some damage even from that distance.”
“I think we just kept firing and praying,” Blaze told him. “We just wanted to spray enough bullets to spoil their aim or distract them.”
“Well, you definitely hit at least two people.”
“Be nice to find out if Barrera was one of them,” Eagle mused.
Ed had been sitting quietly in a corner chair, massaging his leg that now had the prosthesis attached again.
“I can find out. Elias will know. He’s been pissed at being left out of the action, but we needed a final backup if all else failed. Let me give him a call.”
He limped out into the hallway, pulling his cell from his pocket as he went.
“Okay.” Saint jingled the keys in his hand. “Let me go return the helo and pick up our car. And maybe I can pick up some gossip at the same time. Blaze, I’ll ring you when I’m on my way back.”
“Grab the pouches with all our identification, too,” Blaze told him. They always left them with Saint when they went incognito like this trip to Santa Marita. If they got caught, they didn’t want the enemy to be able to identify them. “And we’ll need at least one credit card for Mallory’s expenses here. No way is this getting charged to her.”
“Got it.”
He left and silence dropped over the room again.
“I hope one of those bodies really is that bastard Barrera,” Rocket blurted out. “If it isn’t, I might have to go back and kill him with my bare hands.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Blaze told him. “Your first priority is Mallory. Let’s see what the situation actually is before we go flexing our muscles.”
Rocket sat back in his chair, doing his best to keep himself under control. Blaze was right. Mallory came first. But if he had a chance to make Barrera and his rotten people pay…
“I have updates.” Ed limped back into the room. “And you’re gonna like them.”
“Don’t ke
ep it to yourself,” Eagle urged. “Share.”
“Elias says at least two dead bodies on the boats and a load of shit is going on.”
“Who’s dead?” Viper demanded. “That’s the first question.”
“You’ll like the answer.” Ed managed a little smile. “Both Barrera and his right-hand man, Ruben Valdez, bought the big one. They—”
“Let’s allow ourselves one moment for a cheer,” Viper interjected. “That’s like hitting the big jackpot.”
“But there’s a big landslide effect from that,” Ed pointed out. “The head of the harbor patrol wanted to take the bodies to the palace so they could lie in state.”
“But?” Eagle made a gesturing motion. “There has to be a but.”
“But…there are too many people waiting for this to happen. There was a battle at the harbor patrol office and those left over from Alcante apparently won. They’ve got the two bodies locked up in a freezer until they can all figure out what’s going on. It’s mayhem there right now.”
“You don’t think his army will find someone to take charge?” Viper asked.
“Without Barrera, they’re in chaos. And I don’t think one of the cartels will step in. Not enough money in their scheme of things to make it worth all the hassle.”
“So what’s going to happen?”
“In case you forgot or didn’t know, the son of the late President Alcante is in the United States, looking for the opportunity to restore his father’s government.”
Blaze smiled. “I bet we step in and help him. Off the books, off course.”
“Elias promised to keep me up to date. Meanwhile, we should be glad we aren’t there, because it is holy chaos.”
“Damn it,” Rocket swore. “Fucking damn it.”
“You upset about the situation on Santa Marita?” Eagle asked. “I’d think you’d be delighted.”
“I’m upset because we haven’t heard one fucking word about Mallory. I’m ready to barge into that operating room right now.”
“Calm down.” Blaze’s voice was low and even. “It hasn’t even been an hour. You know how tricky bullet wounds can be. And I understand the staff here is top notch. I know how hard the waiting is, but I truly believe she’s going to be fine. If we don’t hear anything soon, I’ll see if I have any contacts who can help us. That work?”
“I guess it has to.” Rocket leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
And silently prayed.
* * * *
Chaos would have been a mild term to describe the situation on Santa Marita. Emilio Suarez was torn between wanting to shoot everyone and getting the hell out of there. The moment Barrera fell to the deck, the crimson pool rapidly spreading on his chest telling the story of his situation, Suarez could feel the threads of the regime beginning to fray.
“Help him,” he shouted at his crew.
Already one of the crewmen had a first aid kit out and was crouching over the body of their leader.
Suarez was battling a surge of panic. Only those who directly benefitted from Barrera or who wanted to would be anxious to see this resolved, to have the man still alive and things to remain in place. Everyone else in Santa Marita had been a victim in some way and had prayed for deliverance. That was a known fact.
He had to bring down the people who had done that. Maybe that would help.
“Shoot at the helicopter,” he ordered the gunner next to him. A glance to the left showed him that the man in charge of the other boat was also in an argument with the gunner.
“Capitan, there is no way the bullets from this gun will reach that high. That’s not what it’s meant for.”
“Idiot.” He yanked the man’s arm and pulled him aside. “Let me at it.”
Suarez grabbed the controls of the gun, aimed it skyward and pulled back on the trigger. The rat-tat-tat of the continuous feed of ammunition split the air, but even he could see the helicopter was already too far away for them to hit.
“Idiot.” He curled his hands into fists so he didn’t give in to temptation and punch the lights out of the gunner.
“Capitan.” The gunner cowered next to him. “We must attend to El Presidente.”
Suarez alternated between wanting to smash something and wanting to throw up. The moment word of this got out, there would be utter madness. Perhaps Ruben Valdez could help him pull this together. Coordinate things at the presidential palace. Keep a lid on everything.
He made his way to the radio in the cockpit and pressed the mic button.
“Ruben Valdez, come in. Come in please. Now.”
After a few seconds of static, he heard the voice of the captain of the other boat.
“Sir, we have a problem here. Lieutenant Valdez has been shot and we cannot revive him.”
Suarez wanted to vomit.
“Did you check for a pulse? Breathing? Anything?”
“Si. There is no question that he is dead. Finito.”
God fucking damn.
“Is anyone else hurt?”
“One of the men took a bullet in the arm and another in the thigh. They were spraying the boat continuously with—”
“I know!” Suarez shouted. Then he hauled in a breath. It would not do for him to fall apart, not in the middle of this. Maybe he could still hold on to his position if he played this right. “Just make sure they are attended to. I will radio the harbor patrol office and prepare them.”
But to do what? Who would even be in charge of the country to give orders? Barrera had held the reins in his hands with a tight grip, sharing only with Ruben Valdez. Shit. What a fucking disaster. He had to find a way to create order out of chaos, but at the moment, he did not have a clue.
“Return to port,” he ordered. “We will see what happens after that.”
* * * *
At the moment that Rocket was ready to tear someone’s head off, a man in hospital scrubs with a surgical mask hanging from his neck.
“I’m Dr. Moreno. Family of Mallery Kane?”
“Here.” They all stood and spoke at the same time.
The man looked from one to the other. “All of you?”
Rocket stepped forward. “I’m John Hardin, her fiancé.” At least he fully intended to be, the moment she woke up. “Please tell me she’s going to be all right.”
“It’s been touch and go,” Moreno said. “There was a substantial amount of ricochet damage, plus the bullet nicked an artery.”
“But she’ll be okay.” Rocket wanted to shake the man.
Moreno nodded. “Yes. She’ll require a lot of care and rest, but with time and care she’ll recover fully. It’s just going to be a long process.”
Rocket felt a sudden weakness in his body. He didn’t know if he was going to throw up or pass out. He tried to say something, but his brain seemed to have stopped functioning.
Blaze was beside him in a hot minute, gripping his arm and infusing him with strength.
“Thank you, Dr. Moreno,” he told the surgeon. “When can we see her?”
“She’ll be in recovery for an hour. After that, if all her vitals are good, we’ll move her to a room—”
“Private room,” Rocket snapped. “I want her in a private room. One like you reserve for VIPs.”
Moreno looked at each of the men, an eyebrow raised.
“We’re good,” Rocket insisted. “As soon as my friend brings my documents, I’ll take care of it. We don’t usually carry anything with us when we go fishing.”
Moreno’s mouth quirked up in a hint of a grin.
“That must have been some fishing trip you were on. But…”
“Okay, just hold on.” Blaze held up a hand. “Rocket, get Senator Kane on the phone. She’s been waiting for a call, anyway.”
“You’re right. I just wanted to wait until we were away from Santa Marita.”
Rocket was amazed at how quickly his call was put through.
“You have her?” Alicia Kane asked the moment she answered.
“We do.
But she’s—”
“She’s alive?” There was a touch of fear in the words.
“Yes, but—”
“That’s what’s important. When can I speak to her?”
Rocket walked into the hallway as he gave the senator a brief but detailed report, assuring her that as soon as Mallory woke up, she would call. Then he explained the current situation.
“Hand him the phone,” she ordered.
Rocket walked back into the waiting room and held the phone out to Dr. Moreno.
“Senator Alicia Kane would like to speak to you. She’s on the Senate Armed Services Committee.”
Moreno gave him a weird look as he took the phone from him.
“Garth Moreno here.”
Rocket watched as the expression on the doctor’s face changed from irritated to perplexed to awed to accepting.
“No problem,” he said at last. “I’ll take care of it.”
“All set?” Rocket asked taking the phone back.
“It’s done,” Alicia confirmed. “Just be sure she calls me. And, Rocket? Thank you very, very much.”
“I did it for me, too,” he told her, and disconnected the call.
“I’ll make all the arrangements,” Moreno assured him. “In fact, let me go take care of them right now so her room will be ready when we move her out of Post Op.”
He hurried from the room as if his ass were on fire.
Blaze laughed. “Nice to have friends in high places.”
The next hour, to Rocket, seemed to drag. Elias arrived to collect Ed, bringing a little news.
“Santa Marita is a mess,” he told them. “The way Barrera had it set up, everyone was under his thumb except for Vidal. With both of them dead, it’s turning out a free-for-all. All the hate and resentment that built up is spilling over.”
“So what’s going to happen?” Blaze asked.
“Even as we speak, Benito Alcante is gathering his troops and making plans. He’s reaching out to his allies for support. I have an idea that before long things will settle back to the way they were on Santa Marita.”
“Good. Those people deserve it.”