He took off at a run, Fiddler and Iceman with him. They practically jumped from the top of the stairs to the bottom, landing hard but running anyway. Through the building, toward the courtyard, heart pumping, head throbbing, chest ready to explode. There was no one in their way, no movement through the NVGs. He couldn’t switch to thermal because he’d lose the real-time targeting for the building.
But it didn’t matter because he wasn’t going to reach her. They came to the door and kicked it open. The helicopter was already lifting into the air, the rotors whipping the night. Sand swirled in a vortex, grazing their exposed skin, abrading it. He flipped the switch to thermal.
“Don’t shoot the chopper,” Ryan shouted into his mic in case anyone was planning on bringing it down. “For God’s sake, don’t shoot. They’ve got Emily.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE INSTANT THE POWER HAD gone out, Emily knew what was happening. It was HOT. Her heart thudded and her ears strained for any sound in the night. Raja swore, and then her bodyguard/companion/whatever switched on the light from his phone. Malik did as well.
“This way,” Malik said.
The man with Raja gripped Emily’s upper arm in hard fingers and rushed her out of the room and down the stairs. She could barely keep up he was so swift, but he kept her on her feet by rushing her along too fast to fall. She’d given him the messenger bag and he’d slung it over his shoulder. She kept thinking about how she could possibly use that as a weapon—grab it and whip it around his neck or something—but he was too quick.
They flew toward the helicopter pad just as the sounds of gunfire erupted in the night. Come on, HOT. Hurry!
Emily tried to drag her heels, but it didn’t buy much time. The man jerked her forward, his fingers digging into her arm. Raja got into the helicopter just as something exploded in the building they’d left.
A flashbang.
“Ryan,” she screamed, and the man slapped a hand over her face. Emily fought for her life, twisting, kicking, biting.
But he was bigger and stronger, and he overpowered her, dragging her toward the chopper before picking her up and tossing her inside. Then he was in the seat in front of her, and Raja was giving the order for the pilot to go even before the door closed or they got strapped in.
Emily looked outside as the helicopter began to lift. She couldn’t see anything but the flames from gun barrels as they discharged. A feeling of desperation began to unfurl in her chest, blossoming into a storm of fear and anger.
Raja wanted to take her to Baq, the capital city in Qu’rim. Once there, Emily had no idea what the woman would do to her. And she didn’t want to find out.
The helicopter was lifting, hovering—and her microphone crackled.
“Ryan?”
“Emily? Jesus, are you okay? Have they hurt you?”
“Get me out of here,” she hissed. “Please get me out of here.”
“Honey, we’re trying, I swear. But we can’t shoot you down. We can’t take that chance.”
“Raja’s on board.”
“Doesn’t matter, honey. Only you matter.”
Emily glanced at the back of her captors’ heads. Raja and her bodyguard were preoccupied by the scene below, and Raja urged the pilot in strident language to get them the hell out of there as fast as possible. They’d tossed her into the backseat of the chopper thinking she couldn’t get past them, but the door was right there and the slice of it she could reach was big enough to squeeze between the seat in front of her and the body of the craft.
Emily stretched her arm, reaching for the door handle, praying the man wouldn’t notice before she had it. And then her fingers closed over it—and the door gave way, swinging wide. The helicopter was gaining altitude, but she only had one choice here.
Only one.
“I’m jumping, Ryan. Catch me.”
“Emily, no!”
The man turned as she dove for the opening feet first, cursing and reaching for her, but she slipped out of his grasp, ducking beneath his arm.
They were about twenty feet above the pad now and rising—but if she didn’t let go, she’d never make it back home again. A shot rang out and thunked against metal. Ryan swore into his mic—
And Emily let go.
*
He acted on instinct. He could see her body, see her legs dangling over the edge. And he knew she was going to let go. The helicopter climbed in the sky from twenty feet to twenty-five feet. Soon it would hit thirty and forty.
Ryan threw his rifle aside and sprinted toward the pad, toward Emily, screaming at her not to do it. But he knew she wouldn’t listen. He knew she was going to jump. And he had to be there to catch her.
He wasn’t quite there yet when her body began to slip, when her legs dangled more and her torso hung out of the helicopter.
“Emily!”
Later, he would say it happened in slow motion, but in fact it happened so fast he couldn’t quite say how he managed to get there in time. All he knew was that he put on an extra burst of speed—
And Emily’s body dropped from the sky. She was aiming for the sand, he knew that, but if she hit the pad, she’d break every bone in her body. Somehow he was there, beneath her, waiting for her body to make the endless fall into his arms.
She landed against him like a boulder, and they tumbled to the sand together. The air rushed from his body. He couldn’t breathe. He wheezed as he tried to drag in air, and his body hurt like a motherfucker.
She was on top of him, the fabric of her abaya limp in his hands as he clutched at her.
“Em,” he wheezed. “Em.”
She moaned. And then she rolled to the side and cried out. “I think I broke my ankle.”
Fiddler and Ice were there suddenly, separating him and Emily. Hands roamed over his limbs, looking for breaks.
The helicopter shot into the sky, rolling toward the horizon. Raja, whoever she was, was gone.
Ryan didn’t give a fuck. All he cared about was Emily and making sure she was well.
“I think I broke my ankle,” she repeated as Ice examined her.
“Oh sweetie,” Ice said gently. “I think you’re lucky you didn’t break your fucking neck.”
Ryan still couldn’t speak. It would take a century to get his breath back. He lay there on the ground, faceup, and sucked in air.
“You’ll live,” Fiddler said after giving him the once-over. “Nothing broken.”
“Feel like… hit by truck.”
“Yeah, that would be little Emily over here.”
“Emily,” he forced out, turning his head toward her. He reached out, seeking her hand. She grasped his fingers.
“I’m okay, Ry,” she said. “Mostly.”
“Stupid. Asinine.”
“I know, baby,” she told him, patting his hand. “But I wasn’t leaving you.”
“Yep,” Iceman said after a moment. “Broken ankle. Need to splint it.”
Ryan wanted to tell Ice and Fiddler to go away, but that was impossible right now. They were still in the middle of a mission, and they had to make it onto the Blackhawks that would be here at any moment.
Around them, the sounds of battle subsided as HOT mopped up what was left of the Freedom Force cell.
“Well, that’s considerate of them,” Big Mac said as he strode up with his gun slung in front of his body and greasepaint on his face. “A helicopter pad’s going to make this much easier.”
Ryan could hear the Blackhawks coming. His body still hurt, but his breath was coming back. He pushed himself to a sitting position, Emily’s hand clasped in his. She was sitting up too now. She had her head turned as Ice worked to splint her ankle. And then her fingers squeezed his and she gasped.
“Sorry,” Ice said. “I’ll give you something for the pain when we’re on the Blackhawk.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “It could be worse.”
Yeah, she could have broken her back. Split her head open. Ryan shuddered to think of what could
have happened to her. He wanted to haul her close and not let go, but he still had a job to do. He kissed her fingers and pushed to his feet as the hostages emerged from the building, escorted by Knight Rider, Brandy, Double Dee, and a couple of the Echo Squad guys.
“Oh, they were here,” Emily said. “Thank God.”
“Gotta go help with them,” he said roughly, trying to stem the emotion in his voice.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “I know you do… Find me later, okay?”
He bent and kissed her swiftly on the mouth. “I’ll always find you, Emily,” he said against her lips.
Then he turned and walked away.
*
Emily thought she would see Ryan when they were extracted, but it didn’t happen that way. Three Blackhawk helicopters arrived, and she was put onto the first one that landed, along with the sick and injured hostages. She protested that she wasn’t sick, but it didn’t matter. Ice put her on the helicopter, climbed in beside her, and fished in his pack for a needle and a vial.
“Now don’t you think of jumping out of this thing,” he told her right before he stuck her.
“I won’t,” she grumbled, wincing. “That was a special circumstance.”
He snorted. “Yeah, special.” Then he grinned and chucked her on the shoulder. “You’re crazy, Em, but you’re all right. Good work today.”
She ducked her head, embarrassed and angry with herself. “I got captured, and then I let Raja get away with the money.”
Ice blinked. He was rough around the edges and gorgeous as sin, but he didn’t make her heart skip beats the way Ryan did.
“Hey, you led us to them. We defeated a cell and got everyone out alive. I’d say that’s a good fucking day. Don’t worry about the rest—besides, you saw her face. That’s got to count for something.”
It was Emily’s turn to blink. She’d been so focused on what she hadn’t done that she didn’t think about what she had. “Wow. I did, didn’t I?”
That was good for some drawings at least. And maybe someone would recognize Raja based on her description. She wasn’t likely to forget the woman anytime soon. She’d been stunning, and cruel. A beauty whose inside didn’t match the outside.
“Yeah, so keep thinking about the details. They’re valuable.”
He moved on to treat other passengers, and she leaned her head back against the side of the helicopter and tried to focus on those last few minutes when she’d known she had to jump or she’d never see Ryan again.
“Excuse me,” a woman said, and Emily turned to look at her. “Are we safe? Are we really safe now?”
Her voice quivered, and Emily reached over, put her hand on the woman’s arm. “Yes, we’re safe now. You’re with the best of the best—you’re going home.”
The woman sucked in her breath on a sob. “Oh thank God.” Tears streaked down her dirty cheeks. “My baby—I don’t know if my baby is okay. I don’t know.”
Emily’s heart squeezed. She wrapped her arm around Linda Cooper and hugged her close. “You’ll be fine, Linda. You really will.”
She didn’t know for certain, but she prayed it was so.
Linda trembled from head to toe. “You know my name.”
“Yes, you’re Linda Cooper. Your husband is Major Cooper—and you’re going home to him at Aviano Air Base. You’re going home.”
Linda stared at her for a long moment—and then she collapsed against Emily’s shoulder and cried. Emily held her, patting her from time to time, her own eyes filling with tears.
Linda Cooper was safe and she was going home to her husband. But what was Emily going home to? She had no idea. Ryan had saved her when she’d jumped, and he’d kissed her before he’d left. But what did he feel?
She still didn’t know. And did it even matter? He cared, she knew that much was true, and he wanted to marry her. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek on Linda’s hair. He wanted to marry her. It would have to be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EMILY AND THE HOSTAGES WERE taken to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany. When they’d reached the air base and the transport waiting to fly them out of the Middle East, Emily argued that she didn’t need to go. What she really wanted was to be with HOT, to fly where they flew, and to see Ryan.
But he wasn’t there. She didn’t know where he was as she got loaded onto the medevac flight. Then the doors closed and they were on their way. In Germany, she was thoroughly checked out. Her ankle was broken, she was almost twelve weeks pregnant—she didn’t understand pregnancy dating, but whatever—and the baby had a strong heartbeat. Relief flooded her as she heard it beat for the first time.
And then she promptly burst into tears. There was a miraculous little thing inside her, and it was alive and well. But Ryan wasn’t there to share the moment with her, and that made her cry harder. The technician simply handed her tissues and waited. Apparently women bursting into tears the first time they heard their baby’s heartbeat wasn’t all that unusual.
They kept her overnight for observation. Standard procedure, she was told. She was put into a room with Linda Cooper, which was nice, and they chatted from time to time. And then sometime during the middle of the night, she was awakened as a man came into the room.
Her heart thumped hard, but he wasn’t there for her. It was Major Cooper, and he went to his wife’s side and broke down. Emily tried not to cry, but it was impossible. She turned her head into her pillow and let the tears soak the fabric as Linda and her husband cried and laughed and hugged.
A nurse came in and told Major Cooper he had to leave and let his wife rest, but he begged to stay with her. The nurse finally relented, and he spent the night in a recliner beside her bed. Emily fell asleep eventually. When she woke again, she turned and saw Major Cooper’s boots in the recliner. She couldn’t see him or Linda because the nurse had pulled the curtain, but she smiled as a snore came from the other side of the barrier.
Then she turned the other way—and her heart leapt into her throat. There was a man in a chair. He was slumped over, arms crossed, his forehead on his arms. No comfy recliner for her Special Ops warrior.
“Ryan?”
His body stiffened—and then his head snapped up, his eyes red-rimmed with lack of sleep. He’d tried to wash off the greasepaint, but there were still traces of it here and there. He had a day’s growth of beard, his hair was shaggy, and his blue eyes bored into her.
She’d never seen a more handsome man in her life.
He was on his feet and by her side in an instant. “I’m here, Emily. I said I’d be here.”
His voice was scratchy and he smelled like the desert. If sand trickled from his clothes onto the floor, she wouldn’t be surprised.
He took her hand and kissed it. She lifted her other hand and ran it over that rough jaw. “You said you’d find me. You did.”
“That’s right.”
“I thought I wouldn’t see you until we were back in DC. I thought it would be days—maybe weeks.”
“No fucking way,” he growled.
“I didn’t want to go without you,” she whispered. “They wouldn’t let me stay and wait for you.”
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “No, we had to get you to safety. But here you are, and here I am. It worked out.”
“How are you?” Because she knew she’d hit hard when she’d landed on him.
He grinned. “Feel like I got hit by a truck, but otherwise I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry. I panicked—if I hadn’t jumped… She would have killed me, Ry. She wanted information on HOT, and she would have killed me after she’d tortured it out of me.”
“I know, honey. I know you had to do it—but Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. It could have ended up so much worse, Emily.”
“But it didn’t. I’m here.”
He let his gaze slide down her body. “Yeah, with a broken ankle and probably a few bruises too.”
“But the baby’s fine.”
<
br /> “I know, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here with you. I know you must have been scared.”
She squeezed his hand. “I was. But you’re here now, and everything’s going to be okay.”
But then she remembered something Raja had said, and a current of fear snapped through her.
“What is it, honey?”
“Raja… she said they knew who I was and who I cared for. And she said we would pay.”
Ryan squeezed her hand. “You’re under HOT’s protection, Emily. The only one who’s going to pay is Raja and her Freedom Force. We’ll get them.”
She bit her lip. “What if she sends someone after me in DC? What then? We don’t really know what she’s capable of.”
His expression was fierce. “She’ll have to go through me—and that won’t be easy, I promise. Besides, she has far bigger things to worry about than a woman who got away.”
Emily sucked in a breath and let it out again slowly. “You’re right.” Because she knew what sort of people the Freedom Force attracted, and she knew they thrived on fomenting terror. In the scheme of things, she wasn’t important to them. If it was convenient to punish her, they would. But they wouldn’t waste resources to go after her when they had far more important battles—to them—to fight.
“You remember what she looks like?”
“Yes.”
“Good. When we get home, you can tell Mendez everything. He’ll do everything he can to find her.”
She frowned as she studied their linked hands. “I’m not sure my name will be cleared. I may still be the same Emily bin Yusuf I have been—on watch lists and no-fly lists, and with no hope of ever getting off those lists again. If you spend time with me, you’ll be tainted by association. Your career will be over.”
He put his fingers beneath her chin and forced her to look at him. What she saw in his eyes made her breath catch.
“Listen good, Emily, because I mean for you to understand this the first time I say it. I don’t give a good goddamn about anything but you and our baby. I love you, and if I have to be a civilian who never leaves the United States, then so be it. No one’s going to stop me from getting a job or taking care of our family. You’re all I need. All I want. If I have to plow fields to be with you, then I’d better go get some shit-kickers and a cowboy hat and figure out how to operate a tractor. Because if that’s what it takes, that’s what I’m doing. You got that?”
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