TWELVE
Bree worked to loosen her hands, the skin around her wrist raw and bleeding from the rough twine. She focused on the pain and used it as a motivator to free herself before Brute came back to check on her. He usually popped in every thirty minutes, at least he had for the past couple of hours. Finally the ropes fell away, and she attacked the ones around her chest that pinned her to the hardback chair. Thankful her feet were left free, she bolted from her seat and went to the window with the blackout shade. She’d rather climb out of it than the one in the bathroom.
It was not only locked but nailed down. It would take her too much time to work the nails out of the wood. She whirled around and hurried to the door into the short hallway. Holding her breath, she put her hand on the knob and prayed the door was unlocked and Brute wasn’t posted outside the room. Slowly she turned the handle and then eased the door open a crack to peek into the corridor. Clear.
The sounds of voices from the living area urged her to act now. With a fortifying breath, she hurried to the bathroom, slipped inside and locked the door. She clambered on top of the toilet and inched the window up. Once the space was wide enough for her to crawl through, she gripped the ledge and hoisted herself up onto the sill, using the toilet paper dispenser as a step. As she pushed off, it crashed to the floor. For a few seconds she froze, clutching the wooden sill.
Using the front tips of her shoes, she walked a few inches so she could turn and drop to the ground below the window. The door crashed open, and her glance over her shoulder collided with Brute’s gaze, full of rage.
* * *
“What do you mean I can’t go with you on the raid?” David whispered to Thomas in a furious voice.
“You’re a civilian. I can’t allow it, but I’ll do everything I can to protect Bree. Stay out here in the trees. Promise you won’t try going into the cabin unless I signal or call for you.”
David glared at his friend, clamping his lips tight.
“If not, I’ll have to leave someone back to keep you safe. Do you want me to go in with one less man?”
“I promise.”
“Thanks,” Thomas said as he slipped into the darkness surrounding them.
David put on his night vision goggles and followed the seven-man team as they made their way toward the cabin. With only one door, they would all use the front entrance. He wouldn’t go on the raid, but he would circle around to the back where there was a window low to the ground. Somebody needed to monitor it, in case one of the kidnappers tried to escape that way.
David kept to the trees as he weaved through the forest to the rear of the cabin and set up observing the right side with the high window and the back with the lower one. No one was going to get away if he had anything to do with it.
Settling behind a large trunk of a bare tree, he scanned the area. The sound of the battering ram striking against wood echoed through the small clearing, followed by gunfire and shouting. It took all his willpower to remain still.
Movement at the high window on the right side of the cabin caught his attention. It looked like a body emerging from the window. He zeroed in on the person. Bree? He rose and took a step forward. The sound of a gun being cocked, then the feel of a barrel against his back riveted him to the spot.
* * *
A loud crash, then the rat-a-tats of a barrage of bullets spurred Bree into action. Adrenaline zipping to every part of her, she propelled herself through the opening, but Brute’s grip clamped around her left ankle. Without thinking, she rammed her booted foot into his face and plunged down toward the earth nestled in a snowy blanket. The howl of his fury resonated through her head as she smashed into the ground, her left shoulder taking the brunt of her fall. Pain shot through her like a bullet.
She couldn’t let that slow her down. She jumped to her feet and surged toward the woods on that side of the cabin. With a look back, she spied Brute diving out of the window and hitting the snow, then rolling. Up in an instant, he raced toward her. She pumped her arms and legs as fast as she could. The darkness of the forest yards away dangled safety before her. If she could hide...
She heard his heavy breathing behind her right before he flew into her and slammed her into the ground. The air swooshed from her. She struggled to get a decent breath. She wasn’t going down without a fight. With the thought of seeing David again, she twisted and kicked until Brute sat on her and pinned her arms down in the snow. Using every reserve of energy she had, she bucked and writhed, trying to dislodge the man, but the pressure of his bulk on her chest kept her from taking full breaths. In seconds, darkness began to swim before her eyes.
There was the sound of a gun going off nearby, and Brute jerked toward the noise coming from the left. As Brute moved, he came up and off Bree. Air flooded her lungs. Making use of the momentum of him rotating to the side, she toppled him, shoving him off her. She rolled away, then clawed her way to her feet while he righted himself. She dived into the line of trees, determined to find a hiding place in the night’s blackness. It was her only chance.
Not daring to slow down to look back, she moved as quickly as she could with her arms out in front of her to stop her from running into a trunk. She heard Brute behind her, then a loud thump as though he’d collided with something. Praying he had, she kept going. She only began to slow when she realized she couldn’t hear him behind her anymore.
She chanced a glance over her shoulder. Only black and the far-off lights from the cabin greeted her. As she turned forward, she ran right into a thick branch, stopping her in her tracks. She sank to her knees, teetered, then crashed into the snow.
* * *
As David dropped to the ground, he twisted around and went for the person’s leg behind him. The sound of the gun going off thundered through his head, and he felt something graze his cheek. Rage filled him. He plowed into the shooter and took him to the ground. They rolled in the snow, and his opponent ended up on top of David. The man, bigger than him, still grasped his revolver. He brought it up to aim at David.
He gripped his attacker’s wrist and squeezed with all his strength, but the gun remained in the man’s hand. Slowly as they wrestled for control of the weapon, it inched closer toward David. Through his night vision goggles, he saw the fierce determination to kill him written on his assailant’s face. The sight fortified his own resolve.
Suddenly the man rose a few inches and came down on David’s chest. All air rushed from his lungs. He heard and felt a rib crack, and pain stabbed him in his chest. For a couple of seconds, his grip loosened on the weapon.
In that momentary lapse, the gunman pointed the weapon at David’s chest. As his attacker pulled the trigger, a surge of adrenaline zipped through David’s body, and he managed to move the revolver slightly. The bullet hit his arm. More pain flooded him.
From somewhere deep inside, David found a burst of strength to knock the weapon from the man who momentarily—for only a second—slackened his grip on the gun. The assailant’s eyes widened as the revolver flew through the air. His gaze followed the trajectory, which gave David the opportunity to pull his Glock from his pocket.
When the man looked back, David had the gun aimed at him. “I’ll kill you if I have to.”
The attacker smiled at the instant he went for David’s weapon. He shot the assailant. His body was suspended for a few seconds before he toppled over onto David, sending waves of pain careening through his arm. Despite that, David shoved the guy off him.
His wounded arm throbbed as his adrenaline rush began to fade. He felt the man’s neck. Relieved he was alive, David pushed to his feet, found the other weapon, then went in search of Bree. His only goal was to find her and make sure she was okay.
He righted his askew goggles, then made his way to where he’d last seen her fleeing the cabin. Inside his coat sleeve the wet warmth of his blood ran down his arm. Li
ght-headed, he followed the trail of footprints in the snow into the forest.
Quiet reigned until he heard a moan. He hurried his pace and discovered a huge man on the ground by a large tree. David lifted his gun as the man’s eyes opened, then shut. He had nothing to tie the guy up with. David glanced behind him and saw Thomas enter the forest.
“I’m over here, Thomas.”
His friend hastened to him. “You’re shot. This guy?”
“No, another one.” David motioned deeper into the forest with his good arm. “I think Bree got away and this man was chasing her. I’m going after her now that you’re here.”
“I don’t think you’re in any condition to go after her.”
“That’s not an option.” David trudged forward, trailing the footprints in the snow. “Bree,” he called out several times, listening to his voice echo through the trees.
As he progressed, blood dripped off his hand onto the white snow. His vision blurred, and he wanted to rip off the goggles, but he couldn’t. Trees, often close together, were like a maze that he had to weave through. How did Bree do this in the dark?
“Bree,” he shouted again, then listened.
As he dragged gulps of freezing air into his lungs, his chest protested. His head seemed as if it was swirling like a kaleidoscope. When he stumbled, he caught himself before going down by clutching a bare branch.
Then he saw Bree on the ground, lying still. His heart lurched, and he hurried his steps. When he reached her, he dropped down beside her and checked to make sure she was alive. Her pulse beat beneath his fingertips.
“Thank you, God,” he murmured.
He swayed and crumbled to the side, a black void swallowing him.
* * *
Her head pounding, Bree stirred on the cold ground. Pinned beneath an arm, she panicked and pushed away. She felt a sticky substance covering her hand. Blood?
She felt the body next to her. Not big enough for Brute. When her fingers traced the face, she encountered goggles and removed them from the man’s head. Using them, she saw David in a weird green light, red smeared on his cheek, the left sleeve of his tan coat now crimson.
She scanned her surroundings and a movement in the distance caught her attention. Thomas? If David was here, then other rescuers were, too. She took a chance because David needed help.
“Over here,” she yelled. Then she opened his coat to check how much damage had been done to his left arm.
“Bree, you okay?” Thomas asked, coming upon her and kneeling on the other side of David.
“Yes, but he isn’t. He was shot, and he’s losing a lot of blood. Also, something grazed his cheek. Let’s get him back to the cabin where it’s warm and call for a helicopter. He may need surgery.”
Thomas spoke into a com link and a few minutes later help arrived. Still woozy herself from running into a big limb, she let them carry David toward the cabin while she walked next to them, trying to clear her head so she could tend to his medical needs until the helicopter came.
The sight of David lying there limp in the arms of the men, his eyes closed, threatened her composure. Please, Lord, he’s got to be okay. But in the back of her mind the whole way, she thought she was responsible for him being hurt. He’d saved her life and had been dragged into a situation he hadn’t bargained for.
* * *
Hours later, she observed the surgery on David to remove the bullet. Her forehead had a goose-egg-size bump, and the doctor on duty insisted she stay in the hospital overnight. She agreed she’d stay only as long as she was watching David’s surgery. She wasn’t promising anything beyond that. She took a couple of pills to dull the pain hammering against her skull in a thundering cadence.
When the surgeon finished with David, he glanced up and said, “He’ll be fine. But I’m not sure about you. You look pale. Go. Sit. I’ll find you in the waiting room.”
“But—”
“Bree, it isn’t a request. I insist. I’ll be out to talk to you and his family. Cheryl, see that she follows my directions.”
One of the nurses disengaged from the group around David in the operating room. Bree didn’t wait for her to approach. She left, barely putting one foot in front of the other. Everything seemed to be crashing down on her finally.
In the hallway, Cheryl walked with Bree. “I hear Gail is doing better. I praised God that they were able to save her foot. She should be leaving the hospital by tomorrow.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go see her after David is settled and awake.” Bree stopped outside the waiting room. “I appreciate all the staff has done for Gail, David and Don.”
As Cheryl left, Bree leaned against the wall and bowed her head. Thank you, Lord, for their recovery. I can’t believe so many people were hurt because of me. I’m at a loss what to do. How can I face them when I know what happened to them?
She chewed on her lower lip as she glanced to the side at the entrance into the waiting room and saw Don. She sighed. He’d tried to protect her at the cabin when those men had kidnapped her and he’d been shot. Because of her. Trembling, she hugged her arms to her. All she wanted to do was hide and shut down emotionally.
“Bree, I thought I saw you in the hallway.” Don filled the doorway into the waiting room. “You okay?” Using his crutches, he came to her. “You need to sit. The past few days have taken their toll on you.”
And not you? But when she peered into his craggy face all she saw was concern and sympathy. “You don’t need to worry about me. You’re the one who was just released from the hospital and has a son admitted.”
“Come on in and sit with me. I’ve been so worried about you.”
“About me?” The whole time she’d been held captive she’d wondered about Gail, Don and David. She hadn’t known if Don or David had survived the shoot-out at the cabin.
“Yes, of course. You were kidnapped. I’ve worked my share of abductions, and I’ve seen the trauma the victims go through. I doubt you’ve even had time to process anything. You’re probably feeling shell-shocked.”
She nodded then started for the waiting room before she collapsed in the corridor. All the strength in her body seemed to be draining away. After sinking into a chair across from Don, Bree slouched back.
“Thomas was just here to let me know the progress of the case.” Don took his seat and laid his crutches to the side. “A few of the men are talking, and he’s confident he’ll round up the smuggling ring in the next few days.”
“Oh, good,” Bree murmured automatically.
“Now that the police have the diamonds, he’s sure you’ll be okay. You can start putting your life back together, but Bree, that will take time. I’ve never been kidnapped, but any trauma that knocks the feet out from under you affects you deeply. You can’t run from it. I tried when I lost my wife suddenly. The pain and memories caught up with me. And I suspect my son is still dealing with the trauma of his last tour of duty. I know, because I served in Vietnam.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “David was a different man after Trish’s death, and then he went back to the combat zone and that changed him even more. A person, even a strong one, can take just so much before something gives. But remember the Lord is there for you the whole way. You aren’t alone.”
Don smiled, a soft mellow one. “You should rest. You look like you’ve been up for the past forty-eight hours.”
“I’m a doctor. We’re used to it in an emergency.” She wanted to dismiss the exhaustion slowly weaving its way through her body. “I can’t leave until I make sure David is all right after the surgery.”
“I understand the operation is pretty routine. He’s a tough guy. He’ll be fine.”
“But I know what can go wrong even in a routine one.” She began remembering a few cases where a problem developed at the end of surgery or in recovery.
Her heartbeat increased, and perspiration beaded her forehead and upper lip. She jumped to her feet, intending to go back and see if David was in recovery yet.
Don called her name as she strode toward the doorway. She glanced back to tell him where she was going when she collided with David’s surgeon, Dr. Neil Baker.
He steadied her, then made his way to Don. He waited until she returned before he said, “Your son will be fine. He shouldn’t have to stay in the hospital but a day or so. You can go back and see him in fifteen or twenty minutes. The nurse will come get you.” Neil’s gaze lit on Bree. “We have a bed for you. You won’t be officially admitted, but I would like you to hang around. That is one big bump on your head.”
“I know what to look for, and if any signs of my concussion worsen, I promise I’ll be back.”
“Then after you see David, both of you go home and sleep. Half the night is already gone.”
“We will,” Don said, looking pointedly at Bree. “Won’t we?”
She ginned at his mock intimidation. After Neil left, she added, “You need to work on that tough look.”
* * *
With his arm in a sling, David stood at the window in the living room, staring at the snow as though Bree would materialize in it. She had been there in the hospital, taking care of him, even taking over for the nurses. He had to admit he’d enjoyed the attention, but behind her professional facade he sensed something was wrong. According to Thomas, the case was netting them numerous arrests with the discovery of the smuggling ring that specialized in illegal diamonds brought into the United States via Russia. He’d hoped she would relax some with that news, but when she heard, she began to withdraw.
Now she was coming to see him, and he felt like a teenage boy waiting for his sweetheart to show up. That thought took him by surprise. When had he started falling in love with Bree? Probably that morning when she’d crawled out of the snow cave and looked up at him. But he realized when he was trying to rescue her from the kidnappers and he knew he would put his life on the line for her, that he was determined to pursue a relationship.
The Yuletide Rescue Page 17