Zoe crouched in front of him, checking his pupils with her penlight and giving him a small smile. She squeezed his hand. “It looks like they avoided your head, at least.” Before she released his hand, she pressed a pair of small, sharp scissors into his palm and curled his fingers around them. He was so startled he nearly dropped them, but managed to return her smile, and give a small shrug that disguised his movements as he palmed the scissors.
She pressed against his ribs and he grunted. “I need to tape those,” she said. To the guards, “I have to take his shirt off.” Then her hands were against his skin, warm and soothing, and it was all he could do to keep from leaning into them. Her eyes widened at what she saw on his body, but she didn’t make a sound. Lee didn’t look down, but he imagined his torso and arms were a rainbow of bruises and small cuts where Arcangel’s men had worked him over.
“Is this what you have planned for me as well?” Zoe’s voice was calm, but Lee saw she was furious. Easy, Zoe.
“I would never allow anyone to do this to a lady,” Arcangel said.
Zoe sniffed, but didn’t say anything further. Instead she washed the cuts and tended to the bruises while the metal of the scissors grew warm in his hand. The longer he sat, the more the feeling returned to his hands and feet. Not only had Zoe given him a weapon, she was buying him time to recover. If they weren’t being watched, he would’ve kissed her.
***
Zoe took her time cleaning Lee’s horrible wounds, trying to give him time to plan, to recover. When she’d first seen the full extent of his injuries, she half-wished she’d kept the scissors and used them on Santiago herself.
As it was, though, would the scissors give him enough of an advantage? “Sorry,” she said, “this is going to hurt.” She started taping up his ribs, feeling carefully for any hint of other internal damage. “Now I just need to take a look at your knee, and we should be all—”
From outside there came shouting and the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Already? It can’t be. If she was right about the source of the commotion, she had to find a way to let Janet’s people know where they were, and quick.
“You.” Santiago pointed at one of the guards. “Go see what’s going on. You,” he said to the other, “stand guard outside. And shut the damned door.” He moved around them so he was in front of Lee, and drew a gun from a shoulder holster. “Doctor Rodriguez,” Santiago said, “I’m going to have to ask you to hurry it up.”
As if she hadn’t figured that out for herself. Her hands were shaking as she undid the filthy, torn wrapping around Lee’s leg. Don’t think about the gun. Just work. “How’s the pain?” she asked Lee.
“It’s a little better.” She didn’t think he was lying. His color was better. When they’d first come in, he’d been almost gray with pain.
“I don’t like the look of the swelling,” she said, marveling at how calm she sounded. She sounded like he was in her exam room. When she started to rewrap his knee, her hands had stopped shaking. If only there was some way to confirm that their rescue was right outside the door.
“Just don’t tell me I’m going to lose the leg, okay?”
“All right. Time’s up,” Santiago said. The commotion was louder outside. Someone shouted a warning to look out for the sniper, and Zoe fought to hide a smile. Whatever Janet’s people had come up with, it didn’t sound good for Arcangel’s men.
She didn’t stand up fast enough for Arcangel. He grabbed her by the elbow in a painful grip and hauled her to her feet. “Who did you tell?”
“What?” she said.
He shook her. “Who’s out there? The police? My friends from the ENC?”
Zoe shook her head, and he pulled her closer, pointing the gun under her chin. “Tell me.”
She didn’t have time to be scared. Lee surged forward, grabbing at Santiago’s gun and shoving it away from her. The scissors she’d slipped him flashed silver as he stabbed at Santiago’s gun hand until he dropped it.
Then his knee buckled.
Santiago let go of her to grab Lee, shouting and trying to make Lee stop stabbing his hand. Shit, the guard outside would hear and come in.
“Zoe, the gun,” Lee grunted, while grappling with Santiago. Where was it? She looked around and spotted it on the ground just beyond the two men. She grabbed it just as Lee fell down entirely, taking Santiago with him.
The gun in her hand terrified her. She’d never held one before, and pointed it toward the sky. Could she fire it if she had to?
Lee had managed to land on top of Santiago, but Santiago had one hand around his throat. Should she try to shoot him? What if she missed?
The bitter taste of adrenaline flooded her mouth and panic threatened.
Just then the door opened, and the guard, drawn by the commotion, came in. Zoe stepped in front of him and lowered the weapon, praying she didn’t have to cock it or that the guard wouldn’t laugh and tell her the safety was on.
“No. Stop right there,” she said. “I’ll shoot you, so help me God. Put down the weapon. Now.” She stared at him down the barrel of the gun and an eerie sense of calm descended. Lee needed her, and she was going to keep him safe.
***
Lee didn’t have a chance to see if the guard listened to her or not. Arcangel’s hands closed around his throat and started to squeeze. Lee shoved his left hand into Arcangel’s chin, but he couldn’t count on his lower body for leverage—any pressure he tried to put on his knees threatened to make the world gray out even faster.
The scissors. They’d fallen out of his hand when Arcangel broke free, but he could see them on the floor not far from them. Lee shoved harder with his left hand, leaning toward the right, stretching as far as his abused muscles would allow. It wasn’t enough. He heard Zoe shouting something and all he could do was hope she was all right.
Gritting his teeth, his lungs starting to ache along with the rest of him, Lee kicked out and let the momentum roll him over. The pain washed over him in a sickening wave and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from passing out. It worked. He closed his fingers around the scissors just as he rolled to his back.
The sharp blast of the pistol echoed in the small closed room, and Zoe’s voice came again, cutting through all the fog. “Let him go, Santiago. I don’t want to kill you.”
Both of them looked up to see her standing only a few feet away, the gun in her hand, pointed at Arcangel. She’d fired into the wooden ceiling before, her only warning shot. The guard was nowhere to be seen, but his rifle was propped against the closed door.
“Get up. Now.” This was a Zoe Lee hadn’t seen before, frightened but angry, and entirely fed up. Her hands were rock steady holding the gun.
Arcangel scrambled to his feet, trying to smile. “You wouldn’t shoot me,” he said. “You’re not a killer, Zoe.”
“I don’t have to kill you,” she answered. “I’m a trauma surgeon. I could shoot you and then keep you alive. With no anesthesia you’ll only wish you were dead.”
Lee had never wanted to kiss her so badly before.
“Put your hands on your head,” Zoe told Arcangel, and he obeyed. “Lee, can you chain him?”
“Uh . . .” Lee scooted away from Arcangel, not trusting himself to stand. He got within arm’s reach of Zoe. “How about you give me the gun, and you chain him. And gag him.”
She gave him a worried look, but handed him the gun. Once she had Arcangel chained to the wall, she came to check on him.
“What happened to the guard?” he asked.
“I told him to get out.” He recognized the grin she gave him, one that said and I can’t believe that worked.
Out. He’d forgotten. What the hell was going on out there? He scooted back against the wall and braced himself against it. “Here, help me stand.” Zoe came over and took his arm. He shoved the gun in his waistband and leaned on her to stand. Being
this close to her was suddenly too much. He leaned in and kissed her, almost overbalancing. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her presence, but that had to wait.
She was smiling when they parted. “That’s why you called me over here?”
“Only partly. Help me to the door. We’re not out yet. I want to see what’s going on out there.”
Walking was easier with Zoe to lean on. He eased open the door and they walked down the short corridor to the stairs. The worst of the shouting had stopped up above—whatever had happened, it was over. Zoe took one look at the stairs and one look at him, and said, “Wait here.”
“Be careful,” he said.
She got to the top of the stairs and opened the door. “Oh my God.” She started laughing. “Lee, I think our ride is here.” She stepped aside to reveal Wishnevsky and Timo, both heavily armed and armored.
“What,” Wishnevsky said, “are we too late to rescue you?”
“Zoe did a pretty good job of rescuing us already.” Lee leaned heavily against the wall. “Tell me you two didn’t go against an entire squad by yourselves.”
“We had help,” Timo said. He came down the stairs to help Lee to his feet. “Doctor Alejandro is a damned good shot.”
“Maria came with you?” Zoe looked horrified.
“Not bad for a couple of old women and a kid, right?” Wishnevsky wore a smug grin. “Still want to make Cold War jokes, Wheeler?”
“Please tell me there were more than three of you.” Lee winced as he limped up the stairs, leaning heavily on Timo.
“Don’t be an idiot. Of course there were,” Janet said. “And your mission?”
Lee tried to stand a little straighter. “Found the man calling himself Arcangel. He’s chained up in the cell at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Well done, Agent. Come on, let’s get you two out of here.”
“Wait, can you give us a minute?” Lee asked, glancing at Zoe.
“We’ll be outside.” Wishnevsky opened the door and Timo followed her out.
Lee leaned against the wall, but not before reaching for Zoe’s hands.
“We should get you out of here,” she said. “I was able to stabilize you a little, but you might have internal bleeding, and you need X-rays—”
“Zoe.”
She looked at him and stopped talking. In the dim light of the hall, he could just make out the soft gray of her eyes and the sweet curve of her cheek. “You saved my life,” he said.
“No, I—” She glanced away and down. “I mean, if I did— You already saved mine a couple of times now.”
“When we’re back home, and settled”—he paused and took a deep breath—“I want to talk. It’s not just me, is it? There’s something here—it wasn’t just sex.”
Zoe shook her head, her smile flashing bright and blinding his heart. “I—tried to make it be just sex. But you’re right. We should talk.” She leaned in and kissed him and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his muscles complain. All that mattered was having her in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-two
The capture and unmasking of Arcangel, along with the systematic dismantling of Las Autodefensas de Colombia, made international news. The U.S. government was only too happy to keep the civilian involvement quiet, so Zoe and Maria and Ana officially had had no role to play at all.
Zoe waited for the nightmares to return—for the first few days, the fear during her waking hours was almost unbearable while the U.S. and Colombian governments were cleaning up the rest of Arcangel’s men. The waiting only made it worse. Janet insisted on them staying in various safe houses until she gave the all-clear.
There were no nightmares, and if she was honest, Zoe thought she could attribute that to the fact that she was spending every night sleeping in Lee’s arms. They hadn’t made love again; between his injuries and her fears (not to mention a contingent of watchful CIA agents), the timing seemed all wrong. She wanted his touch for comfort.
There hadn’t been time for the talk they’d promised each other either. Debriefing after debriefing filled the first day or so before Zoe’s insistence that Lee needed a full medical examination got through to both Janet and Lee. His ribs were healing well, and the worst of the bruises were starting to fade. None of the MI doctors were orthopedic specialists, but they all agreed that the initial trauma to Lee’s knee was compounded by the torture and everything that followed. Susan confided in Zoe that she didn’t think the knee would ever be fully stable again.
It was mid-afternoon of the third day and Zoe was in the kitchen making coffee when Lee came limping in.
“You know, crutches work a lot better when you actually use them.” Zoe gave an exasperated shake of her head.
“They’re a pain. I don’t need them to get around the house.” He leaned in the doorway, watching her.
“What part of ‘keep your weight off your knee’ did you not understand?” She started the coffeemaker and turned around, leaning against the counter.
“The part where I have to use crutches in the house.” He grinned, then hobbled to the kitchen table and sat down. “There, better?”
“I am so glad you’re not my patient.” Seeing him smile and joke lifted her spirits. “Want some coffee?”
“Please.”
“Should I offer any to our guards outside?”
“What, and acknowledge that they’re there?” He rested his elbow on the table and propped up his chin. “I was trying to pretend this was a vacation.”
“Some vacation, with your boss separating us for questioning for hours at a time.” Zoe put milk and sugar on the table—of all the things she knew about Lee, she realized she had no idea how he took his coffee.
The coffeemaker clicked off and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. Zoe brought two mugs to the table and sat down. Lee said, “She’s not here now, you know. We have the house to ourselves.” There was a low edge to his voice that caught her attention and sent a shiver down her spine.
She didn’t look at him, but added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee and stirred it. “So we’re alone?”
“Entirely.” She did glance up at that, and found him watching her intently.
The corner of her mouth tugged up without her willing it to. “You sound as if you’re not interested in coffee.”
“Not true. I’ll need the extra energy.”
Zoe laughed and met his eyes. His laughter faded, and he reached out and took her hand.
“Zoe, back at Puerta del Ángel, you said you tried to make us be just about sex. Why?”
“Not just that. I didn’t want to make any assumptions.” She hid behind her coffee cup, feeling its warmth seep into her skin. “With our history, I mean.”
“Because of my job?”
Oh God, he was going to make her spell it out. “After Oaxaca, I struggled a lot. For a while I didn’t want to leave my mom’s apartment. Sometimes—” Her cheeks got hot. “Sometimes the only way I made it was to imagine that you were with me.” She couldn’t look at him. “I told my therapist about it and she said that was normal. Transference. I mean, you were almost literally my knight in shining armor and I . . . kind of carried that around for a while.”
“I wanted to stay in touch with you.” Lee squeezed her hand. “I don’t, usually, with mission targets. You were different.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I thought the last thing you wanted was a constant reminder of what happened. And, I guess I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”
“I didn’t want you to feel obligated either.” Zoe managed a small smile. “I didn’t want you to think I expected you to keep taking care of me.”
“Seeing you that day in the marketplace was the best and the worst thing that could have happened to me.” Lee shook his head with a laugh. “I couldn’t believe my luck, seeing you again,
but I knew I’d never be able to focus on my mission if I thought you were in danger.” His smile was warmer than the ceramic she cradled in her free hand. “And I was right. What did you do? Marched right into the most dangerous place around for miles.”
“I promise I won’t make it a habit.”
“Liar,” he said, but his voice and eyes were soft. “Going to dangerous places is your job too. We both try to make things better, but I think you succeed more often than I do.” He paused, not looking at her, focusing on his own untouched mug. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
Zoe’s heart thudded in her chest. “Lee?” He looked up and she hesitated. “There’s . . . a lot of things I love about you too.”
His smile brightened and grew, and he tugged on her hand. “Come here.” He pulled until she sat on his uninjured leg, her arm around his shoulders. “Not transference?” he murmured.
“Maybe at first,” she said, and rested her forehead against his. “Now I know you.”
“Zoe, the minute I saw you I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. It only took me a little bit longer to realize you were one of the strongest and bravest as well.” His fingers curled at the nape of her neck, tilting her head so he could kiss her slowly and gently. “How could I keep from falling in love with you?”
Her breath caught in her throat and she wanted to laugh; all this time spent running from what now seemed so obvious. “So we’re entirely alone, are we?”
He grinned and slid his hands around her waist, stroking up her spine. “Probably for hours.”
This time she kissed him, teasing her way into his mouth, reaching up to tug at his hair gently. She shifted so she straddled his good leg, pressing her body tight against his. His hands were spread wide over her back, as if he were stretching his fingers to reach everywhere at once. He tasted of good coffee and faintly of toothpaste, and the hot slickness of his mouth drove away any thoughts except of him and his body.
She shivered as his hands crept around her ribcage, sliding up between their bodies until his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. “Okay.” She broke the kiss, breathless. “I’m going to go get your crutches, and then I’m going to take you to bed.”
As Lost as I Get Page 21