Soldier's Rescue Mission

by Cindy Dees

Drago was arguing into the phone. “…important assets. I’m not going to leave them behind… No, it’s not open to discussion…I’m not leaving until I’ve got them.”

  He disconnected the call angrily.

  “Were you talking about Mia and Emanuel just now?” she asked.

  “Yeah. H.O.T. Watch is going to try to figure out where they’ve gone. But in a city this size, they could be anywhere. Particularly since Grandma may actually know some of the locals. I don’t know how we’re going to find the kids, but I swear, Elise. We will.”

  “Look. They’re my responsibility. You need to get to a hospital, and if that means leaving the country, you need to go ahead and do that. I’ll stay behind and look for them.”

  “Not happening,” he bit out.

  “Why? They’re not your job.”

  “I choose to make them my job.”

  “But—”

  He sat up, swearing, effectively cutting her off as she darted forward to help him.

  “But nothing,” he ground out. “I couldn’t live with myself if I left those kids behind. They were scared out of their minds tonight. I need to know they’re safe. That they’ll be okay and I didn’t scar them for life by getting them kidnapped and hauled into the middle of a shoot-out.”

  She stared at him in shock.

  “What?” he demanded irritably.

  “For an arms dealer with no experience around children, you sure do have a soft spot for those kids.”

  “Are you complaining?” he snapped as he reached for the weapon she’d tossed on the bed when she’d gone to work on him earlier.

  “You’re not going out in this state. I just got the bleeding stopped and you’ve only been conscious a few minutes.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “You’re not fine, and you can barely move without swearing up a blue storm. I’ve seen plenty of injuries like yours, and you need a couple of months of complete rest to heal.”

  “Mia and Emanuel don’t have a couple of months. They may have only a couple of hours.”

  The panic already bubbling in her gut surged even harder. “I know that,” she replied with desperate calm. “But I’ll go look for them. You need to stay here and rest.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “Do you seriously think I’m going to let you go out into the war zone this town has just become alone to look for those kids?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Well, no,” he snarled.

  “Why not?” she demanded in utter frustration.

  “Because I love you, dammit.”

  Chapter 13

  Ted didn’t know who was more shocked by his declaration, him or her. Elise was staring at him as though she’d just witnessed a miracle.

  Shaken to the core of his being, he slung the nylon strap of the gun over his good shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll be back when I find them.”

  “Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to say something like that and then just walk out on me.”

  “Look. Time is against us. We can talk later, but right now we have to find the children.”

  “I get that, you big lug. But I’m going with you. I doubt you’ll make it down to the parking lot by yourself.”

  “I’ll make it,” he retorted. But as he took a few steps toward the door, his head felt as if it was floating a foot or two above his body.

  “And I’m driving,” she declared.

  As much as it went against his grain, he couldn’t argue with the logic of that. He let her help him downstairs and to the back of the Jeep. He opened the big duffel bag of gear there and pulled out a black turtleneck sweater. He nearly passed out before Elise managed to slip the thing over his head as gently as she could. She was right. He was in no shape to be running around. But he wasn’t kidding. He’d die if he had to in order to find the children and get them and Elise to safety.

  Elise lifted his spare Kevlar vest out of the bag of gear. “Please wear this. I’m out of supplies to patch you up with if you get shot again.”

  He smiled wryly. “I hope that’s not the only reason you don’t want to see me shot.”

  “Later,” she replied shortly.

  He swore under his breath. He might be out of it, but not so much that he’d failed to notice she didn’t respond in kind to his declaration of love. What a fool he was.

  As she eased the vest up over his arms, it felt as though someone was tearing his arm off. He sucked in air between his clenched teeth as he shrugged the thing into place.

  She strapped his utility belt around his waist and hung a pair of earphones around his neck at his direction. He would have preferred using the tiny microphone sewn into his shirt, but Elise had pretty well shredded that when she made a bandage out of his clothing. Not that he was complaining. Being alive was a good thing. Only her quick thinking and trauma-nursing experience had saved him.

  He let her help him into the passenger’s seat and then she slid behind the wheel. “Where to?” she asked him.

  He frowned. “We can’t head back to the Army of Freedom headquarters to pick up Grandma’s trail. Half the police in Colombia will be there. Is there somewhere we can go to get access to a phone book to look for relatives of hers? Her last name is Ferrosa, right?”

  Elise stared ahead, frowning. Then suddenly, her face lit up. “I’ve got it!”

  “Huh?”

  “A church. She’ll head for a church. It’s what she did before. When her house was attacked, she kept talking about how God looks out for His lambs and to have faith in His protection. And she took us to a church the night her village was attacked.”

  “Makes sense. Any idea where the nearest church is?”

  “No. But if we head for a high hill, we should be able to spot it.”

  She pulled out of the parking lot eagerly.

  They’d driven about halfway across Mercado when she turned a corner and slammed on the brakes. Ted groaned aloud as his shoulder screamed in protest. His groan might also have something to do with the police roadblock directly in front of them. It was too late to back up, turn around, and go another way. The police had spotted them, and one was walking forward purposefully toward the Jeep.

  “Act drunk,” Elise whispered as she threw a blanket at him in the few seconds before the cop gestured for her to roll down the window. He tucked the blanket over his military gear and prayed they didn’t get searched. He’d never be able to explain his high-tech military equipment away.

  Lolling a little to one side and acting woozy wasn’t much of a stretch for him at the moment. Elise asked the policeman irritably, “What’s the problem, Officer?”

  “We’re checking all vehicles for gunmen who might be trying to flee Mercado.”

  “Only man in this car is my cheating drunk of a husband. Any chance you could shoot him for me?” she snapped. “Three o’clock in the morning and I get a phone call from my girlfriend that she’s spotted my husband with some floozy in a bar. And ohmigod, it has to be my friend who’s the biggest gossip in Colombia. I’m going to kill him. You might as well arrest me now, Officer—”

  The policeman threw up his hands to stop her tirade. Ted tried to act guilty, but it was hard to keep a smile off his face. He settled for slurring, “Come on, baby. I didn’t do nuthin’ with her. I looove you, dollface.”

  “Don’t you dollface me. I’m divorcing you and taking you for every peso you’re worth, you low-life bastard!” She devolved into a furious fit of cussing that would embarrass a sailor.

  The policeman interrupted. “There’s a curfew in effect. I need you to go directly home and get inside. You understand me?” The man made eye contact with Ted through the window. “Get her home, and you sleep on the couch until she cools off.”

  Ted nodded fuzzily. “Home. Couch. Got it.”

  The cop rolled his eyes and waved them through the roadblock. As the flashing lights retreated behind them, Elise let out a loud breath.

  “Who’d have guessed a nun knew such foul language?” he comme
nted in amusement.

  She flashed him a brief grin as she turned a corner to head uphill.

  The road crested a rise, and she stopped the vehicle, asking, “Do you see a bell tower anywhere?”

  “Over there.” He pointed off to the north.

  “Got it.” The Jeep rolled forward and she turned to head for the church. Her sense of direction was unerring. Or maybe it was just her mama-bear gene coming to the fore. He estimated they were maybe a half-dozen blocks from the church when another police roadblock came into sight.

  “Am I a cheating drunk again?” he asked wryly.

  “No, I think we’d better try another tactic. These guys may be in radio contact with the other roadblocks.”

  Good thinking on her part. But he was at a loss to come up with another tactic. He watched, bemused, as she fished in the pocket of her sweater and came up with her wimple. Aah. Clever.

  “Can you take off that gear by yourself?” she asked quickly.

  Oh, hell. But it wasn’t as if he had any choice. Wincing, he managed to shrug out of the Kevlar vest and utility belt and stow them behind his seat. He awkwardly tossed the blanket over the pile as she tucked the wimple behind her ears.

  She glanced over at him and frowned. “That black shirt will have to do. You’re a priest. Got it?”

  A priest? He blinked, startled. “Uh, okay.”

  She drove up to the barricade and stopped. “Good evening, Officer. Some trouble afoot tonight?”

  “Yes, Sister. There’s been a fight at the Devil’s Den.”

  She smiled gently. “I’d appreciate the irony of that if I didn’t suspect that people got hurt tonight. All of the police are all right, I hope?”

  “Yes, Sister.”

  “Thank God.” She muttered a little something in Latin that Ted didn’t recognize, but the policeman crossed himself.

  Then the cop asked, “Where are you headed at this hour?”

  “Father André—he’s just arrived in town—and I are headed over to the church to make sure everything’s all right. We heard gunshots.”

  “There’s a curfew.”

  “I understand. We’ll stay at the church for the rest of the night, then. It works out well for us, anyway. Father André can say matins on time. Perhaps you’ll come for the service?”

  “Uh, I’m not off duty then,” the cop mumbled.

  Elise tsked a little. “We haven’t seen you for a while at Mass, have we?”

  “This Sunday. I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Elise replied sternly.

  The policeman waved them through the roadblock.

  “Remind me to take you with me on all my missions where subterfuge is called for,” Ted muttered.

  “Missions? What kind of missions?” she asked.

  He wasn’t so out of it that he would spill classified information. He silently reminded himself to watch his tongue. Thankfully, they pulled up in front of a decent-size church and he was saved from having to answer Elise’s inconvenient questions.

  He followed her gingerly up the front steps, glad she couldn’t see him grimace as every step jarred his shoulder. She pushed on one of the tall, carved doors and it swung open slowly. The interior of the church was dimly lit, and a few flickering offering candles burned low on an iron stand just inside the door. Pews that would seat perhaps five hundred people stretched toward the front of the church.

  “Hello!” he called out. No answer.

  “Hola!” Elise called out in Spanish. “It’s me. Sister Elise.”

  Still no response. His stomach felt like lead. Grandma and the kids had to be here. He was at the end of his strength and couldn’t go gallivanting across Mercado looking for them. He walked cautiously toward the altar with Elise on his heels. Was there a secret hidey-hole under the altar here, too?

  They got to the front and Elise lifted the white linen table skirt. He pointed his high-intensity flashlight at the stone floor but spotted no seams to indicate there might be a trapdoor. Elise looked close to tears.

  “We’ll find them,” he murmured. “This is a big building. Maybe they’re hiding somewhere else.”

  She nodded and took a wobbly breath, gesturing toward a small door at the back of the nave.

  “Let me go first,” he told her quietly. He stood to one side of the portal and threw it open, spinning into the space fast. He nearly fainted from the pain that slammed into him and blinked through the whirling darkness. Movement off to his left. He swung his weapon toward it, struggling to focus.

  He jerked the weapon up and away from the fast moving object as it barreled into him, shouting, “Drago! I knew you’d come for us!”

  Gasping with pain, Ted used his good arm to catch Emanuel as the little boy flung himself against him.

  A sob to his right had him swinging toward the new threat, but it was only Elise catching up Mia in a hug against her.

  “I knew you would come,” Grandma announced from the darkness somewhere on the other side of a large office.

  Ted spotted the elderly woman as she emerged from behind the desk, moving slowly. “Are you all right?” he asked her in concern.

  “I am not as young as I once was. Running across a big city was a little much for these old bones.”

  Ted grunted. “I know the feeling.”

  “We leave now, yes?” she asked.

  Elise answered, “There’s a curfew. We have to stay here till morning—”

  A male voice spoke from behind them and Ted forced his body, through sheer force of will, to turn. He set Emanuel down and pushed the boy behind him, hissing as he used his bad arm to protect the child.

  “Not necessary,” the man said. “We can go now, if you like.”

  A man in a black, short-sleeved shirt and white priest’s collar was striding down the central aisle toward them.

  “And you are?” Ted asked cautiously, his weapon trained, albeit shakily, on the man.

  “I am Padre Jorge del Potro. A little bird named Hathaway called me a little while ago. He told me there might be a flock of lambs in need of assistance in my church.”

  Ted exhaled in relief.

  The priest continued, smiling. “The little birdie suggested I call my church superiors. I did so, and they told me these children are under the Holy Roman See’s special protection.”

  Emanuel poked his head out from behind Ted. “God loves little children and watches us specially.”

  “That he does, child. I am told that in a few minutes, travel documents for all of you will be faxed to me. The Papal Nunciate itself is sending them, apparently. I am told a Father Ambrose in New York City has been very busy the past few days.”

  Ted glanced over at Elise questioningly, and she smiled back at him. That must be the priest she’d mentioned before. The one who’d sent her here to get Mia and Emanuel. The one he would like to strangle for putting her in such danger…right after he thanked the guy profusely for putting Elise into his path so they could meet.

  The fax machine on the desk behind Grandma beeped, and sheets of paper began to spit out of it.

  The priest moved across the room to gather up the documents. And that was the last thing Ted saw as his legs gave out from under him and the world went black.

  Chapter 14

  Elise lost count of how many times Mia and Emanuel made her swear that Drago was all right on the long flight back to Miami.

  The Catholic Church not only took care of the local curfew and permission to pass the roadblocks, but it had a private jet waiting for them when they arrived at the airport in the nearby city of Pasto. The priest had driven the black SUV right up to the plane and he and the pilots had carried Drago, who was still unconscious, aboard.

  His shoulder wasn’t bleeding and he wasn’t showing signs of shock. She suspected he was merely exhausted and overcome by pain and had passed out. She had no idea how he’d even stayed vertical, let alone moving around for so long the way he had been.

  “He’ll be fin
e, Emanuel. I swear. He’s just sleeping. Superheroes need their rest, too, you know.”

  “Yes, Mia. His shoulder will be fine. When we get to America, the finest doctor available will fix it.” Although Elise wasn’t so sure about that one. She was careful not to make any promises about that.

  Grandma and the children finally fell asleep as the night’s terror caught up with them. But Elise couldn’t do the same. She sat beside Drago where he lay on the floor, holding his hand and praying for him, her lips moving hesitantly through long-forgotten prayers.

  Some time later, a faint squeeze of her fingers made her eyes fly open in surprise. Drago was awake. “Oh, thank God,” she breathed.

  “Am I going to kick the bucket?” he asked wryly.

  “You’d better not,” she retorted.

  “What happened?”

  “You passed out. Apparently, even macho men like you have your limits.”

  He nodded slowly. “I guess we do.” His eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened again, infinite sadness swam in them. It was one of the most distressing things she’d ever seen. His emotional withdrawal from her was a tangible thing. It felt as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest as she stared down at him.

  “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, Elise. You know. About loving you. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I understand. I’d just saved your life and it came out in the heat of the moment. I didn’t take it seriously. It’s all good—” Her voice broke on the last word and the stream of babbling falling from her mouth stopped.

  Oh, God. Her eyes were filling with hot, painful tears. Please, please, please let her not cry. Not in front of him.

  “No,” he breathed. And then more strongly, “No!”

  She looked up from her clenched fists in surprise.

  “I was telling the truth, Elise. I do love you. But you never asked for me to chase you all over Colombia like I did. And you darned well didn’t ask me to drag you into a firefight with the Army of Freedom and nearly get you and the kids killed.”

  Shock rendered her nearly speechless. He loved her? She only managed to mumble a shocked, “Oh.”

  “I was stupid and selfish. I was so focused on my mission that I endangered you and Grandma and the children. I’ll never forgive myself for that. I know there’s no way to make it up to you. I only hope you’ll forgive me someday. If you’ll pass me my phone, I’ll talk to my boss and make sure the U.S. government does everything in its power to see the children safely settled in America and that they’ll never be in danger again.”