King of Hearts (Deuces Wild Book 1)

by Irish Winters

  By nightfall, everyone was fed. Dang and his family were together in a berth below deck, the girls in several others. Mark and his men had sprawled topside with sleeping bags, hammocks, and a few cans of American beer.

  Melissa was dog-tired, but worried for that sick little one. The little girl showed definite signs of trauma to her face and neck, bruising as if she’d been held down. Melissa had tried over and over to get the injured child to let her examine her, but her overtures were rejected, so Melissa erred on the side of patience. It just hadn’t worked yet.

  Patience was not her strong suit.

  She stood at the rail, her hair loose and catching the cooling breeze off the water. The river was dark with gentle waves rippling the surface. A big fish—or something—splashed nearby. It could’ve been an alligator or a crocodile. She didn’t know the difference but she’d seen one off the bow of the hovercraft.

  The jungle was alive with night noises. Frogs. Insects. Birds called as they settled in the high branches overhanging the bank. Monkey’s chattered. It would’ve been perfect if Tucker had been there.

  “This boat is bigger than what I expected,” she said to no one in particular, her heart in her throat and missing Tucker.

  “That it is,” Mark replied quietly. Now that his guests were in bed, he’d taken the bench seat near the rear of the craft, his hands on his knees, a weapon in his holster. “It’s a refurbished Navy rig. In its day, it hauled a payload of thirty tons, but not anymore. Alex keeps another just like it available for David’s needs.”

  “He comes across enough children that he needs a boat this big?” The notion appalled her.

  Mark stared off into the jungle, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Kids don’t have a chance in some parts of the world, Melissa. You know that. David’s been busy.”

  She had to change the subject. Her heart couldn’t bear the thought of all those desperate children beyond David’s reach. “I didn’t expect you to bring Dang back with you, but I’m thankful you did. That had to be hard, transporting him through the jungle as sick as he is.”

  Maverick offered a grunt from the hammock he’d strung at the corner of the deck, between railings. “It wasn’t once we got him and his missus settled down. Knowing we already had Mimi and Peewee turned the tables. They were happy to go with us then. Gabe rigged a litter and away we went. It was the girls we were worried about. They didn’t trust any of us.”

  If ever there was a cowboy, it was Maverick. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Prone to brooding silence. When he spoke, people listened.

  “Yeah, but Ky always carries five pounds of caramels with him.” Gabe chuckled. He stood at the opposite rail, alert, continually scanning the shore. “Bribery works on kids. The girls came around.”

  “The U. N. ought to try candy instead of sanctions. Might sweeten the whole world,” Ky added somberly. Melissa didn’t know his story, just that he’d come home injured from the Mideast war. She never would have guessed it to look at him, not the way his eyes lit up when he teased Maverick every chance he got.

  “Those girls were awfully hungry when they got here,” Zack commented. “Food always calms the savage beasts at my house.”

  “Those little girls of yours aren’t beasts,” Melissa said. “But I know being safe helps, too.

  “I cleaned Tam’s snake bite,” Taylor said. “It was ugly. She’s got a good case of necrosis going on. It’ll need to be flushed twice every day.”

  “I can do that,” Melissa offered. “I was there right after she got bit. I think she trusts me.”

  “That Peewee’s a cute little rascal,” Maverick added. The toddler had refused to be set down once aboard, so Maverick ended up carrying him throughout dinner, and then some. It didn’t look like either of them minded.

  “I noticed he latched onto you,” Gabe tossed out. “I think it’s your drawl.”

  “Damn straight,” Ky agreed. “It’s that cowboy thing you’ve got going on. Kids love it.”

  “I don’t drawl, and I’m not a cowboy.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Gabe teased. “Any guy who owns a herd of horses is a cowboy in my book.”

  “Just twenty-eight,” Maverick murmured. “China wants a grand champion. We’re breeding again.”

  Gabe choked on his beer, not bothering to wipe the grin off his face. “Come again?”

  An empty beer can sailed through the air and bounced once off Gabe’s hard head. “I meant the horses, smart-ass.”

  Melissa eased into the cushioned bench near Mark, glad to be sitting with this company of elite snipers. Alex knew how to pick honorable men. These guys were Tucker’s kind of people.

  “The only problem is Dang,” Mark murmured. “If he’s in this with Siegel, I’ll have to turn him over to the authorities. Maybe his wife, too.”

  Melissa’s heart sank.

  “I’d let David make that call if I were you,” Zack said quietly. He’d stretched out on one of the two pilot seats at the front of the cabin. “All we really know is Dang and his family were in trouble, and they needed our help. We assisted their escape from a bad situation. I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, not in this part of the world.”

  “He’s running a temp,” Taylor added. “I gave him a double dose of the strongest antibiotic we’ve got aboard and some pain killer. I hope David knows a good doctor. Dang will need one.”

  “You guys might be right,” Mark admitted. “I don’t want to take sides, not between a father and his kids. Why the hell didn’t you take Alex up on his offer, Zack? You’d make a helluva senior agent.”

  Zack crossed his heavily muscled arms behind his head, his shirt stretched tight across his chest, and his teeth extra white against his mocha-latte skin in the twilight. “I like field work, not being stuck behind a desk running interference for the boss.”

  “But I’m here,” Mark growled, “not behind a desk. I’m still on active ops.”

  Zack grinned. “Feels good being useful, doesn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.” Mark blew out a long deep sigh. “Libby’s not happy that I’m halfway around the world again, though. It puts her in a tight spot between taking care of the kids at home and her job at the hospital, but she knows how it works. Sometimes I travel. It’s part of the job.”

  “Tucker loves the travel and adventure,” Melissa murmured, her mind on that missing man and wondering what he was doing. “I don’t think I’ve understood how much he’s still needed in the world until now.”

  The men stilled.

  She could almost see the devil-may-care smirk on Tucker’s handsome face. “You’re all like Brady. Brave. Courageous and—”

  “Dumber than dirt,” Maverick interrupted, his fingers stretched to the floor as he pushed the hammock to and fro, his dark eyes drilling Melissa’s. “Please don’t go calling us heroes, Mrs. McCormack, because we’re not. The heroes are the ones who didn’t come back. We’re just the guys who did. It isn’t anything to be proud of.”

  “We’re just the lucky ones, ma’am,” Gabe agreed. “That’s all.”

  “It’s who we are.” Rory had been silent until then. He’d stayed up front with Zack near the radio. “Not everyone’s made for this kind of life, but some of us are. I know I am. I guess it’s a gift, though I doubt you’d see it that way. Sure, we’d rather be home safe with our kids and wives, but when trouble comes calling, we owe it to our families to do what’s right. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to make this world safer for them.”

  “But there will always be someone who needs saving.” Didn’t these guys get that?

  “And there’ll always be horseshit,” Maverick muttered, pulling his TEAM cap down over his eyes. “It’s like taking care of the barn. It’s got to be done, or the shit stacks up and the horses get sick. I’m not about to sit on my butt while China cleans stalls. I’d rather she ride to her heart’s content with the wind in her hair and let me do the grunt work any day.”

  Taylor arched h
is back from his post at the rear of the hovercraft. As calm as these guys appeared, all were still armed, a couple, like Taylor, on guard. “At the risk of sounding trite, Mrs. McCormack—”

  “Melissa. Please, all of you, just Melissa.”

  He nodded. “It’s as simple as this. You’ll never know if you’re born to fly until you lift your wings and face the wind. The only problem is that once you do, there’s no going back. You either fly or you fall. I guess we’ve chosen to face the wind and try.”

  “Turkeys don’t fly,” Maverick grumbled. “They fall out of the sky like boulders.”

  “But eagles do,” Mark said softly. “Like it or not, Maverick, you’re a frickin’ eagle.”

  That elicited chicken clucks and coos from Gabe and Ky. Maverick turned his back on his buddies, with a surly, “Goodnight,” but Taylor’s dark eyes didn’t stray from Melissa’s. “You wouldn’t be happy being less than what you are, would you?”

  She swallowed hard. Answering in the affirmative made her feel as if she were running full bore over the edge of a mighty steep cliff into the unknown. “I hate being the one left behind all the time,” she admitted. “I know it’s selfish, but I hate never knowing if I’ll see him again.”

  “Believe me, he hates that, too.”

  “There isn’t a one of us who wouldn’t rather stay home with our wives and kids.” Mark stood abruptly, stretching his back and his joints cracking. “I’m going to bed. Will you need another blanket, Melissa?”

  “No.” Her eyes turned northward to Tucker’s last known position. She didn’t need a blanket. She needed Tucker.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Melissa couldn’t sleep. She’d lain wide-awake for hours listening to the quiet sounds from the next room until she could take no more. Frightened or not, that abused little girl needed a woman’s help.

  The birds in the jungle had just started their early morning chatter when Melissa knocked on the door next to hers and peeked inside. The four girls were huddled around their friend, all in the center of one of the two bunks.

  “Sweethearts,” Melissa whispered softly. “May I come in? Please let me help.”

  All five shook their heads, but she was not to be dissuaded. Closing the door quietly behind her, she crossed to the bathroom and ran a tub of warm water. If nothing else, a bath would soothe the girl’s discomfort. “Come with me,” Melissa said to the battered little one, her hand outstretched, and her own eyes brimming at the fear in these children’s eyes. “Come on. I can help you feel better,” she promised. “At least cleaner.”

  It took a few minutes, but with much sisterly chatter from her friends, at last the tiny thing gulped and lifted up from the bed. As one, the girls closed ranks around her and walked slowly to Melissa. It tore her heart out to watch the girl clutching her stomach and walking like an old woman. Finally, Melissa reached for her, and the tiny thing collapsed into her arms. She went to the floor with her, cupping the child’s head. “There, there,” she crooned.

  The rest of them sank alongside their sad friend, stroking her hair and offering gentle words in their language. All were thin and dark-haired. They could’ve passed for sisters.

  Melissa tapped her fingertips to her chest, hoping to get them to talk with her. “Melissa. My name is Melissa.”

  Shyly, the girls began. The one with the brightest eyes spoke first. “Dara.”

  Melissa nodded and smiled encouragingly. “Hello Dara. You have very pretty eyes.”

  The poor thing in her arms looked up. “Pich,” she said, her fingers searching for Melissa’s, pulling them to her tear-stained cheek.

  Melissa pressed her forehead to hers. “I must help you most of all. Will you let me be your big sister?”

  She might not have understood a word Melissa said, but Pich sighed, and that was good enough. The ice was broken. The other’s followed suit. Sotheara. Maly. The only one not willing to share, the sweet little girl with a ragged scar on her cheek, looked away, her chin lifted in defiance.

  Sotheara opened her mouth as if to tell the secret, but Melissa raised her index finger to her lips, shook her head, and said, “It’s okay. I can wait. It must be a very good name if it needs more time to be spoken.” She knew the girls didn’t understand, but this tiny, gentle step made the difference. “I think the tub is full enough. Shall we all take a bath?” she asked her flock of lost girls, her voice subdued and low. Carefully, she eased to her knees, lifting Pich with her.

  Bath-time was a community affair with all the girls eager to help undress each other until all were naked in the tub or sitting on the edge of it. Melissa could’ve cried at the tender scene of these future mothers nurturing their hurting sister with tender care, all smothering poor Pich with attention and love. Not one of them owned a thing. All were destitute and themselves rescued from the worst circumstances, but even the grumpy one who refused to look at Melissa helped bathe and comfort her friend. It was enough to humble anyone.

  At last, the community bath was done. Melissa coaxed all of the girls into the bedroom, but left the bathroom door open while she discreetly examined Pich, now sitting on the counter. The poor thing was torn and bleeding where no child her age should be torn. That her stomach hurt concerned Melissa the most. Mark and Zack had daughters. They might know what to do.

  When the girls were towel-dried and dressed in the cotton shifts Zack had bought at the market, the bedroom door cracked open. “Mind if we join your pajama party?” Zack palmed the door wide to allow the rest of the girls to enter. “These young ladies have been out in the hall.”

  “I’m so glad you’re still awake.” Melissa waved him in.

  He leaned his hip to the doorjamb instead of entering. “You look like a mama duck with her flock of ducklings.”

  Tears brimmed her eyes at his gentle compliment. “This little one needs a doctor, Zack. Her name is Pich, and her tummy is tender. She needs stitches, too.” Melissa pressed her lips tight, not going to fall apart if she could help it. “Can we get word to David to bring a doctor with him when he meets up with us?”

  “So Ky was right? She was…?” Zack left the ugly word unsaid.

  Melissa nodded. “I’m sure of it. I don’t want to leave Tucker and Isaiah behind, but she can’t wait.”

  Mark cocked his head around the corner, his dark hair mussed, but no sign of sleep in his eyes. “I heard. Don’t worry, Melissa. I’ll advise David and Agent Chase of the change in plans. How can we help in the meantime?”

  “Are you sure?” Melissa had to know Tucker and Isaiah would be safe, that they’d make it home in one piece.

  Mark nodded. “Tucker’s savvy. I’ll check with Alex to make sure he gets the help he needs to get out of the country. He might even make it home before you.”

  “We’ve got several antibiotics onboard if she needs them,” Zack offered.

  “I’m sure she does after what she’s been through, but do you have any morning after pills?” Melissa asked. She’d volunteered at Kelsey’s home for homeless kids in D.C. enough to know what happened on the streets. There might be time to stop the next tragedy for sweet little Pich.

  He shook his head. “No, damn it.”

  “Those meds work up to seventy-two hours after the act,” Mark said quietly. “If we leave now, we might make it to David in time. I’ll tell him to come prepared.”

  Melissa gathered Pich into her arms, needing to comfort this tiny one, needing Pich to feel safe despite the way she’d been used. “I hate cruel men,” she declared even as she rocked the child in her arms. “They should all be drowned at the bottom of the ocean.”

  Zach’s chocolate brown eyes connected with hers. “Now you know why we do what we do.”

  Tucker had barely fallen asleep when his internal alarm went off. The night was pitch black, but there was Isaiah, coming through their hotel door with bags in his hands. Tucker bolted upright and snapped the bedside lamp on, his feet to the floor. “Where have you been? I thought you were sleeping.
What time is it?”

  “It’s around midnight. This city never sleeps, you know,” he whispered.

  The bright light shocked Tucker’s bleary, good eye, the other still swollen and sore. It worried him. He’d never had a black eye that felt this bad for so long. It had to be because of the implanted lens. He used to think it was a godsend, now he wasn’t so sure. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Infiltration. That’s all. Go back to sleep. You need your rest more than I do.”

  Tucker wiped the back of his finger over the puffy seam of his eyelid. It hadn’t stopped tearing up since he’d left Melissa. Kind of like his heart. “You’ve been inside the factory?” Unbelievable.

  Isaiah shrugged. “No, but I’ve been to the Internet café down the street. Want to know how close we are to your ex-wife’s place?”

  Tucker tugged his pants on. Sneaking out alone at night was unacceptable. It wouldn’t happen again. “Where?”

  Isaiah flipped the desk lamp on and spread a map of the city for Tucker to study. “See this dot right here? That’s us.” He traced his index finger along one of the many yellow lines. “Did you know there are more than eight million people living in this city?”

  “I don’t care. Where’s she live? Where’s the factory?”

  Isaiah traced the yellow line across two rivers. “Right there.”

  Tucker peered closer at the map, squinting and his head throbbing. “She’s got a home east of the Saigon River?”

  Isaiah leaned over and tugged a laptop out of another one of his bags. “I wouldn’t call it a home. It’s more like an estate, a big estate. She had a French architect design it. I checked.”

  “You’ve been shopping again?”

  “I’ve been taking care of business,” Isaiah purred while he flipped the computer lid up and turned it on. An image of a lavish estate sprang to the screen. “Welcome to your ex’s new home, Tucker. Nice, huh? It’s a poteaux-en-terre design.”