Nike's Wings

by Valerie Douglas

  She’d never felt anything like it. Now she truly knew what delirium meant, she was feeling it.

  It was amazing, glorious…

  Looking down, Ty saw her smile brilliantly in reaction to the feel of him as he came inside her.

  Something inside him broke. His heart tumbled after it.

  He held her as she quivered, his own muscles trembling wildly, until she calmed.

  “Are you all right?” he said, softly.

  It took two tries for her to talk. “Wonderful, ecstatic, amazed…wow.”

  Ty laughed, looking down into her face.

  Those eyes were brilliant, the lids heavy. Her pretty mouth was slightly swollen, and color still washed beneath her skin in the light of the lantern.

  She was glorious and radiant. Beautiful, so beautiful.

  He curled an arm around her as he lay back so her head was pillowed on his shoulder.

  Sleepily, Callie brushed her hand across his chest.

  “So nice,” she murmured.

  In an instant she was asleep, clearly worn out, her breath light across his chest, her arm across him, her hand curled over his heart.

  That slender lush body against his made sleep nearly impossible, but exhaustion and hours of tension won out in the end. Ty slept, lightly, uneasily, setting his mental alarm clock.

  It was Callie, though, who awoke first, warm for the first time in more than a month and curled against Ty Connor.

  Parts of her ached, but not unpleasantly.

  Very carefully, she looked up into his strong, handsome face, then she ran a hand lightly over his chest. She smiled a little as she remembered when he’d stopped her the first time she’d done that. She liked the feel of him, the solid muscles of his chest, his flat stomach. Callie down, curiously, to touch his sex lightly.

  It still amazed her.

  He hardened beneath her hand, swelling. Curious, intrigued, she ran her fingers over him.

  Ty was aware of her touch as he came awake, the press of her breasts against his chest and her thighs against his hip. He groaned a little as she stroked him.

  Opening his eyes, he found her watching with fascination as he hardened to her touch. He almost laughed to see the expression in her eyes, the curiosity.

  Very softly, he said, “How do you feel?”

  Callie looked up at him and smiled a little.

  “Not too sore?”

  Her eyes on his, she shook her head.

  In for a penny, in for a pound.

  “Sit on top of me,” he said softly.

  Biting her lip, obediently, she straddled him.

  He helped steady and guide her, watched her eyes widen as he touched her. Slowly, maddeningly - she was so tight, so warm - she settled down on him. Her head fell back and her pretty lips parted in a gasp as he slowly filled her again.

  With his hands on her hips, he guided her.

  Above him her young body arched and strained to take more of him and he skimmed his hands up her body to caress her breasts.

  She rode him, her hips bucking, pumping.

  Her expression was full of wonder, rising to ecstasy. It was incredible to watch.

  He felt her sweet tightness close around him and slid his fingers through hers.

  “I’ve got you, Callie,” he said, and watched her come, her smile radiant as she tightened around him, her internal muscles stroking him, and he came in a huge rush, thrusting up into her.

  A soft cry escaped her, wonder and glory.

  Callie smiled incredulously.

  Ty felt wonderful inside her, so big, so full, so deliciously incredible when she moved. It was as if a rocket went off inside her, sending ecstasy racing through her veins.

  She collapsed over him, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her there for a little while, stretched out over him.

  Rubbing her cheek against his smooth skin, against the hard muscles of his chest, Callie sighed with contentment.

  It wouldn’t last, and she knew that, but she could hold onto this moment, burn it into her memory until he came back.

  Sure enough, the guards burst in at first light, and she startled, scrambled to cover herself with the blanket, pressing herself against the wall.

  It was a shock, not entirely unexpected, and yet Callie found herself fighting back tears.

  For a little while she’d almost convinced herself that there was more time.

  It was too harsh a reminder of where she was - where they were – in Santiago’s camp, that the fantasy was the reality, not this.

  “Get out,” Ty snapped, furiously, at the guards.

  “Santiago is looking for you,” they said, grinning.

  Callie wouldn’t feel ashamed.

  Ty slammed the door in their faces. Quickly, he captured her face in his hands, made her look at him. Kissed her.

  “Trust me. We’ll be back,” he said, softly. “I promise.”

  Callie wouldn’t cling to him. She could see how hard it was for him to let go of her as it was.

  Ty looked at her intently, willing her to believe what he said, wishing desperately he could take her with him.

  “Get dressed,” he said gently, but she was already reaching for her bra and shirt.

  In daylight he could see her so much more clearly. The night almost seemed unreal. Those lovely green eyes met his and she nodded. Those eyes would haunt him until he returned.

  Even as Ty tried to make it appear he wasn’t looking, he noted where they took her, which of the huts was hers. It wouldn’t even have served as a shack, a simple stick-built shelter with a thinly thatched roof, drafty and cold.

  Now they had the locations for all three hostages.

  He looked at Buck as his partner joined him. Buck nodded in return, in acknowledgement.

  “How did you like my gift?” Santiago demanded, grinning, as he stepped out onto the porch to greet them.

  Anger flashed through Ty, but he didn’t show it.

  “Sweet. Very sweet. Any chance I can I keep her?” Ty asked, apparently idly.

  Apologetically, Santiago said, “Sorry, my friend, but no.”

  Ty looked at him, shrugged. “I had to try. American. So, you were behind the kidnapping?”

  It would have been stupid to pretend he didn’t know. The local papers had been full of it although there’d been little mention of it in the American papers with all the focus on 9/11 and the new war in Afghanistan. Care had been taken not to mention that a State Department envoy had been one of the hostages so it hadn’t made the network news shuffle.

  Still a man with an ear to the ground would have heard of it, and Ty, or his alter ego, had a reputation as a man with his ear to the ground.

  With a sly smile, Santiago only laid a finger beside his nose.

  “So,” he said, “the guns?”

  “Will be delivered in a week or so, barring complications,” Ty said. “Shall we radio you for pickup?”

  Santiago inclined his head.

  Chapter Three

  It had taken them days of planning, coordinating the manpower, running through scenarios, putting contingency plans in place. They’d had to verify that Santiago hadn’t moved yet and the camp was still where it had been. God bless GPS devices. Every moment had been torture, thinking of Callie back there in the camp.

  Santiago, though, awaited his shipment of guns. The radio message had been sent, promising delivery the following day. Ty wanted to make certain Santiago stayed put.

  Still, the coordination was delicate, everything had to fall exactly into place.

  Finally the moment had come.

  Ty drew on his gear - body armor, mask and helmet - and settled his weapons harness in place as Buck and the eight other men around them did the same.

  All were good men with specialized backgrounds. They’d been over and over the plan, rehearsed and refined it every step of the way so each man knew what his job was, what steps had to be taken, who needed to do what. They’d discussed every eventuality the
y could think of, what should be done in the event something went wrong.

  Nothing, though, could go wrong.

  In his mind’s eye, Ty pictured Callie Martin. He tried not to think what might be happening to her even now. It was too easy to remember how she’d felt against him, her body shivering in his arms.

  Outside the helicopters awaited, rotors beating.

  It was dark. They planned to move in at early dawn, before the sun rose, when there was just enough light to see, but the guards were tired and the hostages asleep. He wanted everyone in place before then, ready to move quickly and efficiently.

  Everyone piled in, well-drilled, each knowing their place, but even so they reviewed the plan one more time in flight to be sure.

  The helicopters dropped on the other side of the mountain from the rebel camp, flying low and nearly silently.

  Ty and Buck rappelled out quickly, sliding down the ropes. Six men followed them while the other two remained with the choppers. When the time came Ty and Buck would call the helos in to take the hostages and themselves out. They would need covering fire.

  Everyone fanned out through the jungle quickly and silently, staying quiet and low as they moved into position.

  Jefferson, their sniper, sought a vantage point where he could scope most of the camp with his silenced rifle. Carter watched his back. All of them had night vision goggles for moving through the jungle, but they would remove them when they made the actual attack.

  According to their orders, their primary objective was to secure Reeves, secondarily to extract Gallegos, and then Callie Martin. Ideally, they would get them all.

  That was Ty’s objective.

  Voices over the radio spoke softly in Ty’s ear as his men took their positions and Ty, with Buck beside him, moved toward the camp.

  Everything looked peaceful. Smoke rose from cook-fires to mix with the early morning haze in the thin gray light. Few people were about, mainly the guards, some of whom lounged or leaned wearily against the posts or buildings, one or two idly smoking cigarettes or pot.

  Ty and Buck had gotten a pretty good sense of the guard routine when they’d visited so they had that timing down already.

  Everything, though, could get screwed up by one guy deciding to take a leak at the wrong time. One false move and it would all fall apart and the hostages would be screwed.

  And dead.

  Ty looked toward the huts where they were held, scattered widely across the camp, making it even more complicated to reach them all.

  It could and would be done, though.

  “Move in,” Ty said, quietly, over the radio. “Take them out.”

  He glanced at Buck. They moved out with Cooper and Kwasniewski backing them up.

  Around the camp, their people moved quickly and silently into position. Ty and Buck did the same.

  The two of them would secure Reeves first, and then Ty would call the helos. Buck and Kwasniewski would get Reeves while Ty and Cooper went after Gallegos and Callie. The others would take out the perimeter guards, then the interior guards.

  Signaling to Buck, Ty and Cooper made their way around the left side of the hut, watching for any surprises as Buck and Kwasniewski made their way around the right.

  Glancing around, Ty saw no sign of the perimeter guards. They were gone. Perfect.

  With a nod of satisfaction, Ty slipped up behind the guard outside the hut where Reeves was held. In one quick motion he slit the guard’s throat and that guard was down. And he trusted so was the guard on the other side.

  Glancing around, leaving Cooper and Kwasniewski to stand guard in the shadows, he and Buck slipped quickly through the door to the hut.

  Santiago had given Reeves a cot to sleep on, at least, although the floor of the hut was dirt.

  The man himself was disheveled, battered and bruised. His expensive suit was dirty and torn in places. All told, Reeves was not at all his usual dapper self.

  Ty pressed a hand over the man’s mouth.

  In an instant, Reeves was awake and struggling.

  Keeping his voice low, Ty said, “Be quiet. We’re here to get you out.”

  Reeves stared at him.

  Ty took his hand away.

  “We’re still negotiating,” Reeves said, his voice low, but harsh. “I might still be able to get them to release us, work with us. We have a chance to work this out, get Santiago over to our side.”

  Clapping a hand over the other man’s mouth, Ty looked at him, shook his head incredulously.

  “You only think you are. We’re getting you out,” Ty said. “How much more do you want the other hostages to suffer while you ‘negotiate’?”

  His voice a frustrated whisper beneath his hand, Reeves said, “Damn you, Connor, we could still do this.”

  “And what about Gallegos? Callie Martin?” Ty asked.

  There was a flash in Reeves’s eyes as he looked away. Fury shot through Ty like a rocket. The man was willing to sacrifice both of them to his ambition and a failed policy.

  “You’re endangering my men, Reeves. If I need to I will have you gagged, bound, and carried out.”

  Clearly reluctant, Reeves resigned himself to the situation. He nodded.

  “Take them,” Ty whispered into the radio.

  Up on the hill Jefferson sighted down his silenced rifle at the guards closer to the center of camp where they might raise the alarm. They needed clear space for the helicopters to land.

  He picked his shots carefully. The second guard looked around wildly when the first fell, but Jefferson already had him in his sights and he dropped, too. The alarm would go up soon though, no matter what they did.

  Ty radioed the helos even as Buck took Reeves in hand and hustled him out of the hut. Meanwhile Ty and Cooper went to get Gallegos and Callie.

  He kept seeing her eyes, the pleasure in them, and her smile. The thought of her sleeping on a dirt floor, cold and frightened. She’d been resilient, calm. Better than Reeves.

  Gallegos came awake with a cry, stifled by Ty’s hand over his mouth. He panicked and fought.

  Callie had been right. It was obvious he’d taken the worst punishment of the three, his face was bruised and swollen. One of his hands was a mess, crushed, probably by a boot heel. His clothes were torn. The jacket he’d been kidnapped in was missing, taken by one of the rebels no doubt.

  They hadn’t given him the same plush accommodations they had Reeves, being the big bad oil man. Instead he had a hut not unlike the one to which they’d taken Callie, small, stick-built, with a dirt floor, but solid enough. Calling it a hovel, though, was a compliment. Given Gallegos’s condition, it was also noisome and disgusting.

  “Americans,” Ty said, looking into the man’s feverish, terrified eyes. “Americans, Mr. Gallegos. We’re here to get you out.”

  The man went still and then wept.

  “Can you walk?” Ty asked, quietly.

  Gallegos nodded, almost desperately.

  The walk turned out to be more of a shamble, but Carter put an arm around him and hustled him out of the shack.

  Now there was only Callie.

  Ty knew the moment the guards became aware something was wrong and everything went to hell.

  It wasn’t the sound of the helos, but someone noticing people were missing. Another guard went down, just as someone raised the alarm. A shout rang out.

  Ty knew they had to hurry, there wasn’t much time.

  Keeping alert, he made his way around the hut where they’d taken Callie. There was no guard in front of it.

  His heart sank.

  “Callie.”

  He poked his head around the door of the little five by five hut.

  It was empty, but for a small nest of straw to one side.

  Desperately, he looked around the encampment for signs of another guard.

  Had they moved her? Why? Where would they have moved her? A part of him was sick at the thought of the possibilities.

  Santiago…

  The
helos seemed to come out of nowhere, throbbing out of the pale morning haze nearly silently as Buck activated the smoke bombs that would guide them. Greenish smoke billowed in the gathering light.

  Another of the guards shouted.

  Ty looked around desperately for any sign of Callie.

  He was horribly afraid he knew where she was.

  Around him, some of the guards opened fire at the helos, while his men in the helicopters sighted on them and shot back, as did he and Buck.

  Every night Callie had persevered. She’d waited for this moment, listening for anything, any sound or indication that help had finally come that her nightmare would be over. Until now, there had been nothing until she was keyed to a fever pitch.

  Santiago had waited until Ty and Buck were gone, then he’d had her brought to his cabin.

  He’d slapped her, hard, making her ears ring.

  “What did you tell them?” he demanded.

  The slap had shocked her, but she’d stammered quickly, “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying,” he said and hit her again.

  Instinct made her stick to the lie.

  Finally, when she flinched away from another slap he’d nodded, convinced she was cowed.

  “Are you still a virgin?”

  Her heart had sunk. Terror shot through her. She turned to run, but Santiago’s men grabbed her even as Santiago smiled. He nodded to his men. One reached around her to rip her shirt open.

  “We’ll find out,” Santiago said.

  She fought them furiously, futilely.

  Callie clung to the memory of Ty’s touch, the smell of his skin. Only that and the knowledge they were coming kept her sanity intact during the next hours, the next days. Deliberately, she made her mind a blank.

  Since then there had been only the waiting and the fight to believe Ty was what he seemed, the constant battle with doubt, with fear.

  The sound of the first shout of alarm was what brought her awake.

  At first she couldn’t believe what she heard, she’d heard it in her hopes and dreams so often. Then she was moving.

  Even as the sound of the helicopters grew louder she bolted from the bed, raced for the door to wrench it open and darted out between the guards. Her sudden appearance caught everyone off guard.