Marin grabbed her bag and then spotted Amelia. “Dr. Howell, you better come with us. Cosi’s mother is in labor and she’s had a difficult pregnancy. We might need you.”
“Absolutely. Just let me quickly change.” Amelia hurried back to the bedroom while whipping off her shirt. She’d only packed sturdy sports bras since there was no one she needed to impress here. After slipping on a white tank top, she pulled on a clear blue lightweight nylon long-sleeved button-down top that featured a back vent with mesh lining, UPF 30 protection and two front pockets. She slipped her cell phone into one. She switched her dress pants for a pair of khaki tactical pants with seven pockets. The pants offered two-way mechanical stretch fabric and she’d purchased a half a dozen pairs for the trip. Her brown Merrell hiking boots offered DRY technology for breathable waterproof protection. She figured a rainforest would be fairly wet. She’d invested in several pairs of cotton and polyester hiking socks as well. She’d done her research on the proper clothing for the trip and Doctors International had sent an email with recommendations as well. She felt as prepared as possible. She’d noted that Ieshia, Jody and Marin were dressed similarly.
It took her less than three minutes to change, she was happy to note. After grabbing her newly packed medical bag, she slapped on her safari hat and followed the two as they rushed out the door. What she really wanted to do was take a shower after the plane ride and subsequent trek through the jungle, but babies didn’t care about the status of their doctor’s hygiene.
They weaved and bobbed through the overgrown foliage, the boy leading them on a path only he could see, apparently. She’d need to rely on her honed sense of direction if she had to make her way back to the hospital by herself. The trees opened up to reveal a group of tiny huts. She estimated they’d traveled between three and four miles. It was a good thing she kept in shape because Cosi never slowed.
She knew from the literature she’d read on the plane that Manos Curativas serviced seven separate villages, each within three to fifteen miles from the hospital. She planned on visiting each one in the next few days to assess the villagers needs and tend to the sick.
This community was one of the smaller ones. A dozen dwellings were constructed close together in a circle, with a few more scattered around the edges. To the left was a wall of rock. The rainforest stretched along the foothills of the Picos Dentados Mountains that bisected Santigo and eventually butted up against the Andes.
Cosi disappeared inside a hut made of wood with a thatched roof. Though Santigo was rich with resources, the wealth didn’t trickle down to the tribes that called the rainforest home. Amelia followed Marin inside to see Cosi had dropped beside his mother as she rested on a mattress atop a pallet, her body coated in sweat. An older woman was at her side. Cosi kissed his mom’s cheek and then bounded up and disappeared out the door.
Marin spoke softly to the woman in Spanish, introducing her to Amelia. Then she introduced the other woman who was the village midwife. Amelia smiled at the women and then snapped on a pair of latex gloves. Time to bring a new life into the world.
#
Fifteen hours later, Amelia stretched her back, trying to work out the kinks. She’d passed tired hours ago and was on her way to zombie status. The delivery had been a rough one, the mother having suffered a cord prolapse, where the umbilical cord slipped through the cervix before the birth. The condition was serious and could lessen blood flow to the baby, putting its health at risk. Amelia had no choice but to deliver the baby via cesarean section, something she wasn’t keen on doing outside of a hospital, but there was no way to transport her, even if it wasn’t too late. The recovery would be longer but thankfully, two of the older women of the tribe would be staying with the mother while she recovered to assist her and care for the baby. Marin assured her that the women had dealt with cesareans before, including one a few weeks ago. The mother was healthy, and her vitals were good, so Amelia felt comfortable leaving her in the care of the older tribeswomen.
Marin was examining the baby when Amelia felt a tug on her arm. She glanced down to see a young girl with a dirt-streaked face and tangled black hair blinking liquid brown eyes up at her.
“You are the healer?” the girl asked in Spanish.
“Yes, I’m a doctor,” she replied. “Are you hurt?”
“Mi padre.”
Her father. Amelia removed the stethoscope from her neck and stashed it in her bag before snapping the handles closed. “Marin, I’m going to check on this girl’s father. You want to join me when you’re finished?”
“Sure.”
The girl slipped her hand in Amelia’s and led her to a hut across the way. A burly man with a bushy beard sneered at her when she entered, and Amelia suddenly wished she had a weapon. She didn’t think the man would hurt her, but you could never be sure. Just in case, she reached in her bag and fingered a scalpel. It would do in a pinch.
The girl explained to her father that Amelia was a doctor, but when she took a step forward, he snarled like a rabid dog and she stopped in her tracks. The laceration on his arm dripped a steady stream of blood on the dirt floor. If he refused, there was a good possibility he’d bleed out in front of his daughter. Before she could point this out to him, the girl spoke in a soft voice.
“Por favor, papá,” she begged, tears swimming in her eyes.
The tears did the trick. He grumbled but reluctantly allowed Amelia to inspect the wound. The cut wasn’t long, but it was deep, going nearly to the bone. It almost looked like a hatchet had been used to leave the gash. She tried to ask but he ignored her. Fine. She didn’t need details to patch him up. She flushed out the wound, ignoring the disparaging comments he growled at her under his breath, chalking them up to the pain he must be feeling and not the fact that she was a woman. And as soon as she stepped outside, she’d see a passel of flying pigs.
After injecting him with antibiotics, she stitched it up using dissolvable sutures. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to come back to remove nylon ones, or that he’d even let her near him again. Made of natural materials that the body was able to break down, they would dissolve over time, usually when the wound had healed. He didn’t make eye contact the entire time. However, his daughter watched her movements in rapt fascination, the blood not even fazing her. Amelia wondered if the girl would ever have the chance to leave the village and study medicine or if she’d spend her life in the rainforest.
Knowing it would be a lost cause to give the instructions to the ungrateful man who jumped up and stomped out of the hut as soon as she applied the final bandage, she handed the girl a pack of pills, making sure she understood that her father needed to take the medicine so the wound wouldn’t become infected. The girl nodded that she understood and placed the package on a table. Then she reached for a stuffed bear on a small bed and handed it to Amelia.
“This is for fixing my papa,” she said.
The bear was obviously special to the girl, one side worn from where she’d clung to it in the night. Amelia crouched down until she was eye-level. “Thank you for the offer, but I can’t take him,” she insisted. The girl looked ready to cry, no doubt thinking her gift wasn’t good enough. Amelia hurriedly added, “I can’t take him because I don’t have room in my bag for him. Can you keep him for me until I can come back?” Not that she would ever take the bear. Hopefully the girl would forget the next time Amelia visited the village.
The girl’s eyes brightened, and she nodded, hugging the stuffed animal to her chest. Amelia smiled and stood, running her fingers across the girl’s soft hair.
Tiredness swamped her again when she stepped outside, but she was used to a grueling pace, having worked in the emergency room the past few years. With the difficult birth, they’d stayed up through the night to monitor the mother’s condition and prepare for the baby to arrive. Still, she knew her limits and she needed sleep before she crashed. She would be of no use if she couldn’t do her job properly. She had a feeling her days would be packed at eac
h village she visited.
She glanced around the area. Two men were chopping logs and tossing them into a pile. She wondered if that was how the man injured his arm. Across the way, a woman was tending to a small garden while another sat in a chair watching her. Two young boys were playing a game of tag. No sign of her last patient or Marin. She headed back to the new mother, who was asleep, her baby daughter resting in a basket beside her bed. She asked one of the women about Marin. The woman told her that she left approximately thirty minutes ago.
That was strange. She was supposed to assist Amelia. Maybe another emergency cropped up and Marin was tending to it. She checked outside again, but there was no sign of the nurse. Amelia wasn’t looking forward to finding her way back to the hospital by herself. The trek through the woods had been a long and winding one without a marked path.
As if conjured by her thoughts, Cosi appeared at her side. The boy took her hand and led her through the jungle, guiding her back to the hospital. Once they were close, he pointed to the building. She thanked him and with a gap-toothed grin, he spun around and dashed away.
Amelia smiled, watching him race home to be with his new sister. He’d be a good big brother. She turned back around and started forward, but her steps faltered. Something was very wrong. Pinpricks of light punched through holes riddling the back of the building. They hadn’t been there before. They were the right size and shape for bullets. Surely someone hadn’t shot up the hospital. What would that prove? It was there to provide aid and assistance to the citizens of the country. Panic struck when she thought about Ieshia and Jody inside. And where was Marin?
She took one step forward when something slammed into her head and the world went black.
Chapter Four
If one more person treated Wyatt like he was a superhero, he was going to spit the dummy, or in American lingo, throw a temper tantrum. A hissy fit. That was all there was to it. They held doors open for him, offered him gifts, and every single woman hugged him when they spotted him. That, he wasn’t complaining about. He hadn’t had to worry about food once since the invasion. He’d been bombarded with home-cooked meals to the point that his freezer was maximum capacity. He appreciated their gestures and he’d never complain to their faces, but he was past ready for things to return to normal.
He wasn’t a superhero. Far from it. All he’d done was take out a couple of tangos before they could do more damage. He hadn’t been able to save Chet or the rest of the airport crew. Every single one of them died when the first bomb dropped. He’d been the reason they were inside. Their deaths were on him.
He got that his coworkers and their families were monumentally grateful that he’d been able to stop a potentially catastrophic situation from happening, but it wasn’t anything that they wouldn’t have done themselves. Hell, every woman and man who worked for COBRA Securities performed heroic deeds all the time. They’d taken bullets meant for others, rescued people from certain death, stopped killers before they could wreck more havoc. So, acting as if what he did was somehow special really pissed him off.
The trip he’d decided to take was coming together, he just needed to secure transportation and it wouldn’t be available for a couple of days. He hadn’t told anyone in case it fell through. It wasn’t like they’d miss him, anyway. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone.
“Hey, Holly, how are all the various injuries?”
Wyatt turned to see his buddy and coworker Grant Colton come up behind him as he finished his last rep on the rowing machine. His body screamed in protest, but the ache was good, as opposed to the excruciating pain he’d dealt with after the explosion. He hadn’t even been exerting maximum effort and still, his muscles were howling like a wounded dingo.
“Bloody ripper.” He grabbed the towel Grant tossed at him and wiped his face.
“Translate for those of us who don’t speak fluent Aussie, because I gotta tell you, that sounds horrific.”
Wyatt chuckled. “It means awesome. Fantastic. Totally amazing. So good I’m ready to get back in the field.”
Grant tipped back a bottle of water and chugged. He recapped it and shook his head with a smirk. “Not a chance. Not until Amelia clears you, and that isn’t gonna happen for at least a couple of weeks. At the earliest.”
Wyatt shook a finger at him. “Now there’s where you’re wrong, mate. She said I was good to go before she left.”
Grant snorted. “She did not.”
“Okay, fine, she didn’t. But you know me, Grant. I’m a fast healer.”
“Aren’t we all. Listen, Wyatt, you need to give your body time to rest and recover. Go fishing. Watch movies. Learn yoga. Just relax.”
“This coming from a mate who once went out on a joint mission with a broken arm without telling anyone. You’d feel the same way I do. Admit it. We’re made for action. I can’t sit around here and do nothing. I feel useless.”
Grant sighed. “Fine, I’ll admit that I would probably feel the same way, but I know for a fact you would be giving me the same advice I’m giving you. After all, who tattled on me during that joint mission? Hum?”
“Grant, Wyatt!”
They turned to see Kai Costa racing towards them at his one and only speed of all-out. He skidded to a stop. “Guess what.”
“What?” they asked in unison.
“I climbed all the way to the top of the rock wall without a harness!”
“You did what?” Wyatt yelled. Or maybe it was Grant. They were both about to pop a gasket. That wall was almost fifty feet high with some pretty hairy angles. All it would take would be one small slip…
Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “You did not. Your dad would ground you for eternity.”
Kai covered his mouth with his hand and sniggered. “Okay, fine, I didn’t. You should’ve seen the looks on your faces! But I did climb all the way up and I didn’t need the harness, so same diff.”
“It’s not the same,” Grant growled. “And if either one of us catch you even attempting to climb without protection, we’ll make your daddy look like a choir boy. Got it, Little C?”
Kai rolled his eyes dramatically. “Got it. Sheesh, you guys are no fun.” He glanced around the gym. “Where’s Dan. I bet he’d climb up there with me.”
“Kai,” Grant warned.
He smiled widely. “Kidding! Laters!”
They watched as he darted away, leaping over obstacles in his path.
“Did we ever have that much energy?” Grant tossed his empty bottle in a recycling bin. “I’m hitting the showers. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night? Melody would love to see you.”
“Not if you’re doing the cooking.”
“I can manage steaks on the grill. Baked potatoes. Cold beer.”
Wyatt pushed to his feet. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’m there.”
Chapter Five
Amelia was brutally jarred awake when she slammed against a hard surface, forcing air from her lungs. Despite her eyes being open, everything was black, and she experienced a spurt of panic before realizing she’d been blindfolded. She was jolted again when the vehicle she was riding in hit a bump or pothole or something that tossed her up before she crashed down again and lost consciousness.
The next time she woke, she was being carried over someone’s shoulder and she bit her tongue to refrain from crying out when her belly connected with a bony shoulder. She wanted to fight back, but her head, already throbbing, felt like it might explode with all the blood rushing to it from hanging upside down.
Forcing the pain aside, she took stock of her injuries. Aside from her head, her midsection would be bruised, but other than that, she didn’t appear to be injured. Her hands were hanging down and she could feel them tied together at the wrist. She tested one of her legs, hoping the movement wasn’t noticed. They hadn’t bound her feet, but her captor had a firm grip on the back of her legs. Maybe she could use the element of surprise to gain her freedom. It would be dicey not knowing w
here she was or what she’d face once she removed the blindfold, but it was a risk she was willing to take.
Her hopes were dashed when a pair of rough hands grabbed her and then she was falling. She let out a startled cry when she impacted the hard ground with a thud. Stunned, she focused on refilling the air in her lungs that had just been brutally forced out. The blindfold was ripped from her head, taking several strands of hair with it. Before her eyes could adjust so she could view her surroundings, her arms were jerked forward and she cried out. Cold metal caressed her forearm and then the tie binding her hands together snapped. Was she going to be raped? They’d have to kill her first because she planned to resist with every fiber of her being. She trained with some of the deadliest men and women on the planet. She knew how to fight dirty. She might’ve pledged to uphold specific ethical standards, but the Hippocratic Oath flew out the window when a life was at stake—in this case, hers. She wasn’t above kicking a man in his babymaker or jabbing a finger in an eye socket if necessary.
The tinny clang of metal on metal had her blinking to focus. Black iron bars swam into view. She was lying on a hard-packed dirt floor in some kind of cell. The click of a lock had her heart pounding. She was trapped inside. Who the hell had taken her and what did they want?
During the Doctors International orientations sessions, she’d been briefed on security measures, but Dr. Bainbridge assured the volunteers that they had nothing to worry about. They’d be safe, he promised. Though drug cartels increased by the day, they by and large left medical workers alone. Maybe her abductors didn’t realize she was a doctor. The only identifying factor was her medical bag, but they might not have looked inside it before they grabbed her. Her clothes were chosen for the climate and jungle, not the hospital. Nothing screamed physician. Maybe if she explained to them who she was, they’d let her go.
Pushing upright, she shook out her hands to increase circulation. She had no idea what time it was or how long she’d been unconscious. Since they’d covered her eyes, she didn’t know if it was night or day. And she had no way to know how far they’d travelled. Would Ieshia and the others realize she was missing and call the authorities?
Without a Trace (COBRA Securities Book 18) Page 4