Power: Special Tactical Units Division (In Wilde Country Book 3)

by Sandra Marton

  “As a hero.”

  Uh-oh. Nobody’s tone should ever be as flat as that.

  “No. Not exactly. It’s just that when you add everything together—”

  “You think I might have had sex with you to show you my gratitude.”

  Hell. He swallowed hard.

  “No. I mean… No. But I can see where that might...”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “What?”

  “The Stockholm syndrome in reverse. You know. The captive transferring her positive feelings to her captor, except I transferred them to the man whose job was to rescue me. Why else would I have even considered being with you, Lieutenant?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve never been into self-centered guys who probably blow kisses to their own images in mirrors.”

  “Hey. Just wait a min—”

  “And I’ve certainly never been interested in soldiers. Click your heels together, do as you’re told, salute and say ‘yessir.” She shot him a blistering smile. “So well-trained.”

  Enough, he decided, and folded his arms over his chest.

  “It’s ‘aye aye, sir,’” he said coldly. “If you want to be accurate.”

  “And I think you’re pathetic,” she said, just as coldly. “If you want to be accurate.”

  Tanner breathed in, breathed out. He wanted to grab her and shake her, or maybe grab her and finish what they’d started last night, but he damn well wasn’t foolish enough to do either.

  “Don’t go too far,” he said brusquely. “And don’t take too long. I want to get moving. The sooner we reach the river, the better.”

  She looked at him. No smile this time, not even a nasty one.

  “Aye aye,” she said.

  Then she saluted. Clicked her heels. Turned sharply and strode into the trees, where she pulled down the scrubs, did what had to be done, cleaned herself with a wipe she’d put in her pocket, hoisted the scrubs up again…

  And gasped as a big, filthy, all-too-familiar arm wrapped itself around her throat and hoisted her off her feet.

  The hand attached to the arm held a long, sharp knife that was pressed to her throat.

  Her kidnappers had found them.

  “No soun’,” Stubby whispered, his foul breath hot against the side of her face. “You unnerstan’? No soun’ or you die.”

  Alessandra was already on her toes. She wrapped her hands around his arm, trying to stand even taller in a desperate quest for breath.

  “You hear me, puta?”

  She gave a frantic nod.

  “Smart girl,” Skinny said as he stepped from the dense foliage. He had a long, lethal-looking rifle cradled in his arms.

  “I’ll walk the whore into the clearing,” Stubby whispered. “Get the sojjer’s attention. You go round, come up behind him and kill him. Bueno?”

  “Then we have some fun, huh?”

  Stubby chuckled. “We jus’ need to keep her alive for Estrella Brilliante.” He put his lips to Alessandra’s ear. “They get you now, puta, ’cause you make too much trouble for us. You gonna have a good time with them.” He jerked his chin at his partner. “Get goin’.”

  Skinny grinned and vanished into the foliage.

  Stubby put his mouth to her ear again. She felt the cold sting of the knife slide down her throat.

  “You feel that?”

  She nodded.

  “We walk into the clearing together. You do anything, say anything, I cut you. Deep.” He chuckled. “But not deep enough to keep my amigos in Bright Star from payin’ me good money for you, puta, you unnderstan’?”

  She jerked her head up and down. She understood, completely. He’d hurt her, badly, and then the guerrillas he’d talked about could do what they wanted with her.

  Stubby chuckled.

  “Smart girl. Now walk.”

  She walked.

  One cautious, slow step at a time, heart racing, frenziedly trying to think of a way to warn Tanner of what was happening, of what was going to happen to him.

  She paused just before the clearing. Stubby slid the tip of the knife under her T-shirt. The fabric parted; the knife was at her breast. She felt the coldness of the blade, then a faint trickle of something warm.

  “Jus’ a little cut, puta. But I can do more. Remember that. Now move!”

  She could see Tanner standing in the center of the little clearing, his pack over one shoulder, his rifle about to be slung over the other shoulder…

  Alessandra slammed her elbow into Stubby’s belly with as much force as she could. He grunted; the air rushed from his lungs and his hold on her lessened just enough to let her dodge to the right.

  “Tanner,” she screamed, “behind you!”

  The world exploded.

  When it was over, both her kidnappers lay motionless in spreading pools of blood.

  Her knees buckled, but before she could do down, Tanner had her in his arms

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  She was hurt.

  Bleeding.

  There was a cut in her shirt had been slashed open. He could see a trail of blood on her skin.

  Tanner sat her on the ground, her back against a tree, and knelt before her.

  “Alessandra,” he whispered.

  His hands shook as he parted the slit in the cotton shirt.

  His belly knotted.

  She’d been cut. Not cut, not really. The fat pig had pricked her with his knife, not enough to do damage, just enough to draw blood.

  Tanner dumped his backpack, opened it, fished inside it and, yes, there were still little packs of wipes left. He opened one with his teeth.

  “Honey? Can you hear me? This is gonna sting.”

  Alessandra’s eyes met his as he cleaned the tiny wound. She wanted to tell him she was okay, that the only thing that mattered was that he was still alive, but all she could manage was to raise her hand and press it to his jaw.

  He cursed softly, turned his face into her palm and kissed it. Then he tossed aside the wipe, reached for a packet of ointment, opened it and gently massaged the contents into the cut on her breast.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”

  The words were as much for his own reassurance as for hers. She nodded, whispered “Thank you,” and he cursed again and drew her against him, felt the race of her heart against his.

  “Dammit,” he said, his voice raw and harsh, “he could have killed you! What in hell were you thinking, calling out like that?”

  A tremor swept through her. “The other one…He was going to s-shoot y-you.”

  Tanner groaned, cupped her head and brought her face to his shoulder. She burrowed into him and he shut his eyes, held her, inhaled her scent.

  His own heart was galloping. If it went any faster, he’d be useless to them both.

  Everything had happened so fast.

  A rustling sound behind him. Alessandra’s shouted warning. The sight of her tumbling into the clearing with one of the pigs who’d kidnapped her behind her…

  He hadn’t had time to think, only to react.

  He’d fired at the fat prick, spun around and taken out the skinny one. The kills were a given; he was a STUD sniper, and in moments like these, his response was as disciplined as breathing.

  His response to the sight of Alessandra sinking towards the ground was not.

  Racing to her, sweeping her into his arms and holding her close wasn’t in any operations manual.

  “I was—I was heading back to the clearing. And—and then there was an arm around my neck and—and—”

  “Shh.” Tanner kissed her hair, her forehead, her mouth. “Everything’s okay now.”

  “They said they would kill you. And—and give me to Estrella Brilliante.”

  He stiffened. “Bright Star.”

  “Yes. That’s a guerrilla group, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” He stroked his hand over her hair. “Did they say anything else? Maybe about a rendezvous point with Bright Star?”

  “No. That
was all. Just that—that they had to keep me alive for—”

  She shuddered, and he framed her face with his hands and looked into her eyes.

  “Bright Star won’t touch you. I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. I swear it.”

  She nodded. Her breathing had steadied and she’d stopped trembling.

  That was good.

  Better than good.

  She was amazing.

  How could he have written her off as just another spoiled, rich brat? She was smart as hell, strong and courageous, and he was alive because she’d risked everything for him.

  Bright Star.

  Goddammit.

  They could be anywhere by now. Even with Alessandra armed, the two of them would be outnumbered, what, ten to two? Twenty? Thirty?

  Returning to the game trail wasn’t a good idea. Based on the direction the kidnappers had come from, they’d figured out his ruse, and there was no way of knowing what info they’d given to the guerrillas or where they were supposed to meet up.

  Alessandra and he needed a different way to reach the river and they needed to get moving ASAP.

  He drew back and framed her face with his hands.

  “Honey.” She looked at him. Her eyes still held the shock of what had happened, and he wished he could spend the rest of the morning just holding her like this, but he couldn’t. “We have to get started.” He stroked a strand of hair back from her forehead. “You okay?”

  She nodded. He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.

  “We’re going to have to take a different route to the river. I don’t know where Bright Star’s supposed to come on the scene, but in the not-so-good old days, this part of the rainforest was their territory.” He paused. “First, though, I have to, ah, I have to handle some housekeeping issues.”

  Her eyes met his. “The bodies, you mean.”

  It killed him she had to deal with this, but he respected her too much to play games.

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed hard. “That’s the first time I ever… I mean, learning to shoot was, you know, it was almost an academic exercise, but being in the middle of—of—”

  “I had no choice.”

  “Of course you didn’t!” She spread her hands over his chest. “I just keep thinking, what if you hadn’t been so quick? So focused? They would have—”

  Tanner kissed her.

  She sighed and slid her hands up his shoulders, into his hair. He wanted to stay like this forever, but right now time was everything.

  “We have to move,” he said, drawing back so he could see her face.

  “I know.”

  “So here’s the deal. I’ll do what I have to do. You…” She, what? The worst thing would be to let her stand around watching him drag the bodies into the underbrush and cover them as best he could with leaves, branches, whatever would keep the guerrillas from stumbling over them if they came this way. “You check the area where I put up the shelter. The ashes of the fire, too. Make sure we didn’t leave anything behind.”

  She nodded. He took her hand, brought it to his lips, then stood and drew her to her feet…

  Shit!

  He slapped a hand against the tree. It was the only thing that kept him from going down on his ass.

  “Tanner?” Alessandra’s voice was sharp with panic. “What’s the matter?”

  His fucking leg. That was what was the matter. He’d moved fast, pivoting to take down the one gunman and then the other. Now he’d turned too quickly or put his weight on the leg wrong, and a sharp pain shot from his ankle straight up to the wound in his calf.

  “Answer me, dammit! Something’s wrong and…” Her face lost all its color. “Did—did a bullet…”

  “No. No, it’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what is it? And don’t even think of lying to me. We’re in this together, you’re hurting, and I want to know why.”

  She sounded tough.

  Hell, she was tough. It was one amazing trifecta. Smart. Tough. And beautiful. And she was right. There was no sense in lying. They were in this together…but that didn’t mean he couldn’t downplay things a little.

  “It’s an old injury, that’s all, and it’s giving me a little trouble.”

  “How about taking another of those pills for pain? Don’t try that innocent look on me, Lieutenant. I saw you sneak one this morning.”

  Tanner clasped her shoulders.

  “Bellini,” he said, “which of us is the mission leader here?”

  She blinked. Then, as he’d hoped, she managed a small smile.

  “You going to pull rank on me, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes ma’am, I am. I’m in charge. That means I give the orders. You get to say…What are those two words again?”

  “Two words?”

  He tried hard to look stern, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot ’em already.”

  “Two… Ah.”

  “You remember them now?”

  “I do.”

  “Well? Let’s hear them?”

  Another quick smile.

  “Aye aye,” she said softly.

  “Aye aye, sir,” he said, just as softly.

  “That’s three words.”

  “Yeah, but I’m letting you off easy. No snapping to attention. No salute.” He lowered his head, rested his forehead against hers. “Worrying is my department. Understand?”

  She nodded. Put her palms against his chest. Rose on her toes and pressed her lips lightly to his.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “There’s nothing to thank—”

  She kissed him again. He fought back the urge to take her in his arms.

  “Okay,” he said briskly. “Go ahead. Check the area. I’ll deal with the cleanup, but first, I’m going to try and reach Chay.”

  “The man you called when we first made camp?”

  “Yes. Chayton Olivieri. He’s the contact for getting us the fuck out of here.” Tanner took the satphone from his backpack. “I hadn’t intended to call again until we were on the other side of the river, but Chay’s the guy who can give us the data we… Chay? You there?”

  “Tanner? Man, you okay?”

  “Fine. So is the subject.”

  “Good to hear.” Chay’s voice lowered. “Her old man’s driving me crazy. Her whole family, in fact, including a blonde. Her sister. Name of Bianca. Wants her home yesterday.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m workin’ on it. Which is why I’m calling. I need some eye-in-the-sky info from you.”

  Chay, seated in a small office at Camp Condor, reached out and nonchalantly swung the door shut. The blonde—Bianca—was pacing right outside it, and she shot him what he’d come to think of as The Look just before the door closed.

  “You got an unexpected problem?”

  “Bright Star.”

  Chay said something short and pungent in Lakota.

  “You got that right,” Tanner said, and explained the situation.

  “Give me five,” Chay told him, but it didn’t really take that long.

  There was going to be a change in the extraction site.

  “There’s a steam near you.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s your best route to the river and then to the ocean.”

  “The ocean? What happened to going out through Guatemala?”

  “I don’t know, dude. Some political thing, probably. Anyway, the stream leads to the river, and you’ll follow the river to a mangrove swamp that’ll lead you to the ocean.”

  “Details?”

  “Later. Just get to the river first. The stream is shallow. Lots of vegetation on the banks, lots of overhanging trees. In other words, good cover. Stay in it for a couple of miles. It’ll widen, then narrow again. Ford it right before it splits, at the coordinates I just gave you, and that southwest branch will be the river. All told, you’re looking at four, five hours.”

  “Meaning, it’s gonna take longer.”

 
“Meaning, you have far less chance of running into anybody.”

  “Because?”

  “Because nobody much uses it that stream.”

  Tanner waved away a large, buzzing insect. “Because?” he said again.

  “A minor detail.”

  “Which is…?”

  “Crocs.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Only where the stream widens. Just keep your eyes open and you’ll be fine.”

  “You’re just full of advice, aren’t you?”

  “One more thing.”

  Tanner puffed out a breath. “Let’s have it.”

  “Weather’s coming in. Rain.”

  “Yeah, what a surprise. It’s late summer, this is Central America. Who’d expect rain?”

  “Heavy rain, smartass. By mid-to-late afternoon. You won’t want to be on the river then.”

  “Okay. Got it.”

  “Here’s the good news. SAT Recon says there’s a couple of canoes tucked into the bank where you’ll be crossing. They’re nobody’s. Or anybody’s, depending on how you look at it. There used to be a fishing village there, but no more.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Tanner said dryly. “The natives got eaten by the crocs.”

  “Very funny. Cross the stream, find the canoes, head downriver and go these new extraction coordinates. You listening?”

  “Go.”

  Chay rattled off map coordinates. Tanner repeated them.

  “Good,” Chay said. “Make contact when you get there. By then, I’ll have lined up a safe place in the area for you and the general’s daughter to wait for the chopper.”

  “Alessandra. Her name is Alessandra.”

  “Right. Sure. Alessandra. Point is, I’ll come up with something good.”

  “Prime real estate, I’ll bet.”

  Chay laughed. “At least there aren’t any headhunters in Central America. Good luck, dude. Over and out.”

  * * *

  The stream was shallow and heavily shaded, just as Chay had promised.

  It was also swift flowing, with an uneven, rocky bottom.

  Tanner cut tree limbs into makeshift walking sticks that helped him and Alessandra get down the slippery bank without difficulty. Once the two of them were in the stream, the sticks were also a handy tool to use probing the bottom for safe footing.