by Lynn Ames
Sage nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. In her heart, she knew Vaughn was fiercely protective, loyal, strong, honorable, passionate, tender when she let her guard down, deeply wounded, and unquestionably brave. She trusted Vaughn with her life and, she realized with a jolt, she trusted her with her heart.
“Yes, I guess I do,” she said aloud with wonder.
“I need to go talk to Nate. Why don’t you sit with Vaughn for a while?” Justine pulled one of the chairs over to the side of the bed.
“Okay.” Sage waited until Justine left the room before she took Vaughn’s hand in both of hers. “I need you to live, Vaughn, so I can tell you how I feel. Please, don’t leave me. You have so much to live for.”
“We need to talk,” Justine said when she found Nate sitting alone in the kitchen.
“Yes, we do. I imagine you want to know who I am.”
“That would help, yes.”
“I am Jackson’s friend. I am also in charge of the police force here in Mauritania. That is why Jackson knew I could help.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know Jackson very well, but I could tell that he was an honorable man.”
“That he was. I shall miss him.” Nate paused to compose himself. “In our last conversation, he told me of the girl’s kidnapping, and he asked me to keep all of you safe. It is a charge I take very seriously.”
“Thank you.” And thank you, Jackson. “Where is the pilot?”
“He is enjoying our hospitality at the moment. I will have his plane moved someplace more discreet.”
“Thank you.”
“What else can I do?” Nate asked.
“I regret to say that I was unable to bring Jackson’s body with us. He should have a proper burial in his own country. Also, if his involvement was known it might create an international incident.”
“That is to be avoided. I will see to the recovery of his body right away.”
“Yes, time is of the essence. I imagine someone will come looking for those who are missing soon. They will want to confirm identities.”
“I understand. I assure you, my people will get there first,” Nate said. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket, dialed a number, and spoke rapidly in a language Justine didn’t understand.
When he had hung up, Justine said, “I don’t want to create any problems for you. As soon as Vaughn is able to travel, we should go.”
“I can arrange passage for you, and I can get your pilot a plane. Until then, he will be…supervised.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know yet. Somewhere in Europe. I know Paris would be easiest, but that would be too obvious. Plus, I don’t think our pilot would want to go back home. Perhaps Switzerland or London.”
“It can be arranged.”
“It will be at least a few days yet. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, you will be safe here. To any outside observer, this is just another house on a busy downtown street.”
“Where are we, anyway?” Justine asked. She had yet to see a window.
“This is a secret clinic I maintain for circumstances that require more…discretion.”
“I noticed your equipment is rather advanced for this part of the world, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Nate shrugged. “I have interesting connections and the means to trade for things that occasionally require a degree of sophistication not readily available in a third world country.”
“Your…entrepreneurship…is admirable.”
“Thank you.”
“And the doctor?”
“He was trained in France. I compensate him well. His family is protected and he wants for nothing. In exchange, he is always available to me.”
“I must say, I’m both impressed and grateful. I don’t suppose he has any skill as an orthopedist?”
“He is trained in many disciplines.”
“Sage’s shoulder—I think something may be torn in there, but I’m not a doctor. Also, she took several hard blows to the head.”
“He can examine her. I’ll have him do it right now.”
“Justine!”
Justine heard the urgency in Sage’s scream and went running. “What is it?” She felt Nate on her heels.
Sage pointed at Vaughn’s chest tube. Blood was pouring into the tube.
“I will summon the doctor,” Nate said.
“Tell him we’re going to have to get her back into surgery right away.” Justine shoved the chair out of the way and put her fingers on Vaughn’s carotid artery to feel for her pulse.
“Wh—what’s happening?” Sage looked terrified.
The doctor came into the room at a run. “What’s going on?”
“Blood in the tube,” Justine said.
“We will have to operate right away. Abrim! Get her into the operating room.”
“Justine?” Panic pitched Sage’s voice higher.
“Not now, Sage.” Justine ran alongside the stretcher. They would have to crack Vaughn’s chest open to stop the bleeding and tie off whichever artery had ruptured. If they didn’t hurry, Vaughn would bleed to death before their eyes.
“Report,” Edgar Fairhaven barked into the phone.
“Ten dead—one white male whom I assume is Torgensen, and nine Tuareg. Six were shot from long range, the other three in close quarters. One, the leader, I’d guess, appears to have been tortured.”
“How was Torgensen killed?”
“I’d say a long distance firefight. He was shot three times—once in the throat, once in the heart, and once in the forehead. Somebody had pretty good aim.”
“Elliott,” Fairhaven mumbled. “The girl?”
“No sign of her. There’s a set of open handcuffs on the floor of the room where they must’ve been holding her. There’s blood on the concrete, enough to have been caused by a gunshot wound, and a trail that leads to another room down the hall.”
Fairhaven pinched the bridge of his nose where a tension headache was rolling in like a storm cloud. “I suppose it would be too much to expect that Elliott is lying dead around there somewhere?”
“Elliott’s not here, but there’s a bucket-load of blood on the ground right outside the front entrance, several sets of footprints, and drag marks. Somebody’s badly injured.”
“Hmm. Could be the girl, could be Elliott.”
“There’s more. I found a car abandoned and partially hidden about a mile from here. Blood in the backseat, but none in the driver’s seat and none on the steering wheel.”
Fairhaven pursed his lips together. “That’s interesting. So, either they had help getting away, or the car belonged to the Tuareg leader and Elliott used it to get back to where she had stashed another car. It would make sense that she went in on foot—she’d want the element of surprise.”
“Does she have any medical training?”
“Why?”
“It looks like somebody set up a makeshift triage room. There’s a tray with rudimentary instruments, bloody gauze, needle and thread, and strips of cloth.”
Fairhaven frowned. “I suppose it’s possible that she would be able to handle herself in a medical emergency.” He didn’t like it. More and more he was wondering if Elliott hadn’t had some outside help. That was another complication he couldn’t afford.
Presumably, she had the girl. By now she would’ve questioned her, if she was able to talk. They were going to have to consider whether or not the plan was still viable. And, more than anything else, they needed to capture Elliott and the girl alive, and keep them that way long enough to figure out exactly what they knew and whom they had told.
“I need you to keep on the trail. I want to know exactly who was in that car, where they went, and I want to know it yesterday.” Fairhaven slammed down the phone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Justine leaned against the wall. Sweat stained her shirt and pooled on her upper lip. The surgery had taken fou
r hours, and they’d come close to losing Vaughn more than once. As Nate had promised, the surgeon was quite skilled. Once inside the chest cavity, he had managed not just to tie off the intercostal artery but also to tease out the bullet and remove a rib fragment that was pressing against the lung.
As Vaughn was wheeled next door into the recovery room, Justine washed off some of the blood and sweat. She was dead on her feet, but there was one more thing she had to do before she would rest.
“Sage?” Justine found her pacing the hallway.
“How is she?”
“She’s in recovery now.”
“Is she all right?”
“The doctor was able to stop the bleeding, and remove the bullet and a rib fragment.”
“Oh-kay. That’s good, right?”
“Yes, that’s very good.”
“Is she out of danger?”
“Her chances are much improved.”
“Why won’t you answer the question directly?” There were tears in Sage’s eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not hiding anything from you, Sage. I believe Vaughn is out of danger, but time will tell. She’s still going to be on a ventilator for several days, and she’s got a long road in front of her.”
“Can I see her?”
“In a little while. For now, we both need to get some rest.”
At that moment, Nate came around the corner. “Everything okay?”
“As good as it can be at the moment,” Justine said. “Is there somewhere Sage can go to rest?”
“I know the way,” Sage said. “You’ll come get me as soon as I can see Vaughn?”
“Yes. I promise.” Justine waited for Sage to walk away before addressing Nate. “How are we doing?”
“Jackson’s body was recovered successfully, Salam is keeping your pilot company, his plane has been moved, and I have secured a small jet for your trip.”
“That’s great news. I can’t thank you enough.”
“It is nothing. Are you hungry?”
“Actually, more exhausted than hungry.”
“There is a room next to Vaughn’s. It has a bed. It may not be the most comfortable, but…”
“I’m sure it will feel like heaven.”
“The doctor will remain on the premises until your friend is out of danger.”
Justine nodded.
“You also mentioned having him examine Sage. He will do that once you are all rested.”
“Thank you. I need to check on Vaughn.”
Nate touched her shoulder as she turned. “You are very tired. There will be a nurse with Vaughn full-time. You do not need to worry about anything. She will come and get you if there is any change.”
“Very well.”
“Rest. You will need your strength.”
Justine was too tired to argue. Instead, she simply headed down the hall to her room.
Edgar Fairhaven sat across the table from his boyhood friend, Brian Pordras.
“I don’t like it, Ed. It’s too messy.”
“So you’ve said before. I’m not crazy about it myself. But we’re making progress.”
“What progress? We don’t have containment. Without containment, we can’t move forward. If we don’t move forward, we’re both finished.”
“You worry too much. My man has identified the occupants of the vehicle. They didn’t cross any border by car. A plane took off from the airport in Timbuktu before dawn with three passengers. The pilot told one of his buddies he was headed for the capital of Mauritania. My man is on his way there now.”
Secretary of State Pordras bit his fingernail. “Three passengers?”
“Yes. McNally, Elliott, and a CIA operative named Justine Coulter. Her prints were lifted from the steering wheel.”
“A CIA—”
“Yes,” Fairhaven said with distaste. “This is not the first time Coulter’s name has come up. I’m afraid she’s picked the wrong side. A pity. She’ll have to pay the price, of course.”
“Ed, I don’t like it. This just keeps getting bigger and bigger.”
“Like I said, you worry too much. My man is tracking them down even as we speak. He’ll tie up all the loose ends and we can go ahead as planned. It’ll all be over in forty-eight hours.”
“It had better be. If not…”
“You worry too much. Pick up the check, will you?” Fairhaven rose, put on his overcoat, and left the restaurant.
Vaughn blinked. Her eyelids felt so heavy. As she came more fully awake, she heard sobbing and felt the pressure of a hand in hers. She squeezed.
“Vaughn? You’re awake?”
Vaughn tried to focus on the face leaning over her. Sage. She tried to speak but choked on something in her throat. Her eyes opened wide.
“Shh. Don’t try to talk. You’re okay—you were shot. You’re in a hospital on a ventilator.”
Vaughn blinked to indicate that she understood. She tried to reach up and wipe away the tear that tracked down Sage’s face, but couldn’t.
Sage kissed her hand. “Let me get Justine. I’ll be right back.”
Vaughn closed her eyes. When next she opened them, Justine was standing over her.
“Welcome back. Nice of you to join us.”
Vaughn tried once again to answer, her attempt coming out as a strangled gurgle.
“You’re on a ventilator, champ, so no talking for now. I’ll get the doctor and we’ll discuss whether it’s safe to start weaning you off it. Don’t go away.”
Although she could think of several smart retorts, Vaughn had to satisfy herself with a glare.
After a lengthy consultation, the doctor and Justine agreed that they could begin to reduce Vaughn’s dependence on the ventilator.
“Vaughn,” the doctor said, leaning over her, “slowly your lungs will begin to do more of the work, as they are able. Still, it will take a day or more before we can take you off the ventilator completely. I’m going to need you to be patient. Your friend Justine, here, tells me that’s not your strong suit.”
Vaughn mimed the symbol for pen and paper. Sage, having anticipated this request, stepped forward with a legal pad from Vaughn’s briefcase and a pen.
Vaughn motioned to Justine to come closer. Are we safe?
“Yes, for now.”
Where are we?
“Mauritania, at a private clinic.”
Jackson?
Justine shook her head. “I’m sorry, Vaughn.”
Vaughn closed her eyes. Jackson had been a great friend. He had died for a cause that wasn’t his own, and for that Vaughn was sorry. Her eyelids grew heavy again, and she closed her eyes.
“Report,” Fairhaven said.
“I’m in Nouakchott. If the plane and pilot are here, they’re well hidden.”
“Keep looking. What else?”
“I’ve checked every hospital in the city and surrounding environs.”
“And?”
“Nothing. If they’re still here, they’ve gone underground. Otherwise, if whoever the bleeder was has died, that means there’s nothing holding them back and they’re probably gone by now.”
“They can’t be gone.” Fairhaven clenched his fist and dug his nails into his palm. “Find them!” He disconnected the call.
The sound of the door bursting open awakened Vaughn from a light doze.
“Someone’s been making inquiries,” Nate said to Justine, who sat in one of the folding chairs at Vaughn’s bedside.
What kind? Vaughn scribbled furiously.
“Casing the airport looking for the plane and the pilot, and asking around at every hospital in a fifty-mile radius.”
Hospitals?
“Yes.”
That means they’ve been to the site and they know one of us is wounded.
“So it would seem.”
Any description of who’s on our tail?
“One male, roughly thirty-five to forty years of age, six feet four inches tall, African American, athletic build, brown ha
ir, brown eyes.”
What has he found?
“Nothing. But he’s not done looking.”
What will he find?
“Nothing. The bigger problem comes when we try to get you out of here.”
Vaughn pulled on the hem of Justine’s shirt and tapped her pen on the pad. How soon can I be moved?
Justine shook her head. “Once we get you completely off the ventilator, the chest tube will have to be in for two to three days longer. In other words, at least three or four more days.
Vaughn squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. She considered their options. Finally, she opened her eyes and wrote: I want to talk to Justine alone.
When it was just the two of them, Vaughn wrote: Have you talked to Sage about what she knows?
“Yes. She can’t figure it out. I thought we would go over it with her together as soon as you’re off the ventilator.”
Vaughn tried to think. It was hard to concentrate through the haze of pain medication. The two of you should leave the country. Even when it’s safe to move me, I’ll slow you down. Get Sage someplace safe.
“Not so fast, champ. We’re not going anywhere without you. First of all, you need medical supervision—that means me. Second, Sage will never agree to leave you.”
Damn it. I’ll catch up with you later. If we can’t keep Sage safe and find out what she knows, all of this will have been in vain.
“Nate assures me we are as safe here as we could be anywhere in the world. As for figuring out what Sage knows, we stand a better chance of getting to the bottom of that together. You’ve met the players and done the homework.”
You’re not thinking clearly.
“I’m not the one on pain meds and hooked to a ventilator. I’m thinking just fine, thank you. Has it occurred to you that whoever is looking for us would never expect us to stay here for any period of time? When he can’t find us, he’ll assume he’s lost our trail and we’ve moved on.”
They won’t give up that easily. They’ll keep coming—sending more agents if necessary.
“That would be true no matter where we went. This is a safe place, so we stay put until you’re able to travel.”
Vaughn’s eyes flared in anger and helplessness. She wanted to fight, to convince Justine to leave and take Sage with her, to get them out of harm’s way, but exhaustion caught up to her. The pen slid out of her hand as her eyes closed.