Navy SEAL Rescue

by Susan Cliff

  “I wish I could fulfill your fantasy. You can tell me all the hot details, if you want.”

  “I can’t,” she said, biting his earlobe. “You will get excited.”

  “Too late. What are you wearing under this?”

  She pushed his hands away from her skirt. The combination of teasing and tenderness made her chest tighten with emotion. If only they could always be like this, without the ugliness of the world threatening to tear them apart.

  If only she could tell him what he meant to her.

  Instead she hugged him close and engaged in her favorite fantasy. It involved just the two of them, twined together on a blanket under the stars, sharing a night of passion in a peaceful place.

  Chapter 15

  Hud roused with the other passengers as they traveled through a busy city.

  This must be Tabriz. It smelled of smog and spice. The sounds of traffic were deafening. People weren’t afraid to lay into their car horns here. Layah shared a snack of flatbread and dates from her backpack. Soon they were on a quiet, winding road again.

  Hud focused on the piece of gray-blue sky visible through the ripped tarp above his head. He felt trapped in more ways than one, assaulted by memories of days in captivity. Getting a glimpse of the outside world helped to keep the monsters at bay. Making out with Layah helped more.

  He couldn’t stay mad at her. He understood why she’d brought him here, and why she’d kept secrets from him. He’d let his anger take over last night, and he’d gone to a dark place. But he didn’t want to stay there. He didn’t want to be that kind of man. They’d both made mistakes, and they’d suffered enough. He’d rather look forward, toward the light.

  Whenever she got close to him, he lost himself in her. It was impossible to ignore his feelings or hold his desire in check. He was tired of beating himself up for giving in to their attraction. He was hungry for a woman’s touch, and her touch affected him like no other. It soothed and inflamed him.

  The truck came to a stop about an hour later. Hud put his turban back on. He also slipped Ashur’s knife into his boot, just in case. They had no other weapons. Aram had left his rifle in Urmia.

  Olan removed the tarp and they piled out.

  “We walk from here,” Layah said.

  It would be easier to cross the border in a vehicle, but Hud didn’t blame Olan for leaving them on the side of the road. He’d already taken a huge risk by transporting them. Hud nodded his thanks as Olan drove away.

  Layah had a short conversation with the others in their native language. Aram gave Hud a disapproving look. Whatever Layah’s plan was, he didn’t like it. Ashur didn’t like it, either. When she tried to hug him, he said sharp words and avoided her embrace. There were tears in her eyes as they started walking.

  “What was that about?” Hud asked.

  She adjusted her pack. “Nothing.”

  Hud felt a surge of irritation. Instead of demanding answers, he summoned patience. Sometimes she was too independent for her own good.

  “I told them not to wait for us,” she said, after a pause. “If we’re questioned, I want Aram to keep going. He will take care of Ashur and get everyone across the border.”

  “Aram doesn’t want you to stay with me,” Hud said.

  She didn’t answer.

  “I agree with him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You speak only English. You need me beside you.”

  “Are you ready to go to prison with me?”

  “We will not go to prison. We will run.”

  “You’ll get in the way, and slow me down.”

  “Was I slow on the mountain?”

  “You’re not trained for survival situations.”

  “And you have no language skills.”

  He let it go. They were on a quiet road about a mile from a cluster of buildings and a bridge that marked the border crossing. Speaking English wasn’t a great idea. The area could be under video surveillance. He didn’t know what kind of technology the Iranians used at their borders, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Glancing around, he didn’t get the sense of a well-guarded fortress. Open borders weren’t that common, and they tended to be in remote locations with minimal security. Although Hud would feel uneasy anywhere in Iran, this place seemed pretty mellow. A truck driver passed by with a cheery wave. Maybe everything would be okay.

  He was overdue for a break. He’d had a string of bad luck, starting with his bitter divorce. Then Hasan’s death in Al-Hasakah, followed by the bomb in Telskuf, Hud’s stint in captivity and this entire messed-up journey. Layah had experienced more than her share of hardship, as well. They were in for some good days.

  The mood was positive among the group. Aram ruffled Ashur’s hair and put his arm around Yusef. Oshana linked hands with Nina, smiling with excitement. Layah looked nervous, but hopeful. They were almost home. Almost free.

  Hud studied their surroundings as they moved forward. There were checkpoint stations on both sides of the bridge. Iranian officials were on the left, Armenians on the right. Vehicles were driving through without stopping. Hud didn’t see any other pedestrians, which wasn’t a surprise. Hikers wouldn’t be crossing here often. On the other hand, it was a mountainous area, well suited for climbing. Backpackers probably passed through on occasion. They prided themselves on visiting the most far-out locations.

  Hud spotted an Armenian customs official sitting in a booth on the opposite end of the bridge. Two border guards in battle fatigues were monitoring activity on the Iranian side. They were armed with batons and nothing else. Hud evaluated both men as low-level threats, but he braced himself for action anyway. The Iranian guards noticed the group and began their approach immediately.

  Although border and customs officials were supposed to focus on who was entering the country, rather than who was leaving it, Hud wasn’t surprised by the attention. He expected an exchange of some sort. The guards might ask them for passports, information or an itinerary. They might ask for money.

  Layah took the lead, saying hello in a language he assumed was Farsi. She repeated the greeting in Arabic and offered a bright smile. They stared at her the way all men did, tongue-tied and agog.

  So far, so good.

  She pointed to the bridge. They nodded agreeably. She bowed her head in thanks and they continued forward. One by one, they walked by the Iranians. Hud went last. He put his hand on his chest in a show of respect. The first guard said something about him to the second, and Layah’s smile faltered.

  Hud knew better than to pause or act guilty. He walked on as if he had no worries. The second man drew his baton and held it like a crossbar to halt Hud’s progress. Hud considered breaking his arm, stealing the baton and taking out his partner. All of this could be accomplished in two or three seconds.

  Layah gave him a warning look. She wanted to handle the guards her way, with words and fluttering eyelashes. She motioned for the others to go ahead while she brandished her passports and some bribe money. Hud shrugged out of his backpack, moving his gaze from the baton to the bridge. The Armenian official didn’t even come out of the booth. Aram held Ashur’s elbow in a firm grip as they crossed. When the boy glanced over his shoulder at them, Hud’s throat tightened. Ashur tried to break free, but Aram wouldn’t let go.

  Hud returned his attention to Layah. She was doing her best to charm the Iranians, who had become impervious. The man with the baton had a flat stare. Hud’s gut clenched as he realized they were stalling.

  This wasn’t a routine shakedown. It wasn’t general questioning. They’d been stopped for a specific reason.

  An armed guard emerged from the checkpoint station, shouting orders. Now Hud had three men to fight, and this new one was a real contender. Six feet tall and solidly built. Layah rushed toward him, displaying her passports. He didn’t even look at them. When she grabb
ed his arm, he shoved her away in annoyance. She stumbled backward and fell down in a dramatic sprawl. Then she used the opportunity to swing her legs at the armed guard. She connected with his ankle and caused him to stagger.

  Hud couldn’t believe she would dare to grab his arm, let alone kick him. What a woman. She was completely fearless. And he was totally in love with her.

  He didn’t have any time to process this epiphany. She’d given him a split-second opening, and he was taking it. His hand locked around the baton and twisted. The guard’s arm bent into an awkward angle and the bone snapped. He let go with a muffled cry. Hud didn’t even need to hit him again. He thwacked the man’s partner across the temple, knocking him out. Hud advanced toward the third target while the second crumpled to the dirt.

  The armed guard wasn’t stupid or slow. He drew his weapon and squeezed the trigger as Hud launched his attack. The baton connected with the man’s elbow, and not a second too soon. His shot went wide, and the gun flew out of his hand. Unfortunately, Hud’s baton flew with it. The reverberations caused his grip to slacken.

  Hud flexed his fingers as he squared up with the big guard. He heard the sounds of another struggle behind him, but he didn’t take his eyes off his opponent. The man charged him and took the fight to the ground. Hud was okay with that. They exchanged a few punches, rolling across the dirt. Then Hud went for the knife in his boot. He drew the blade and buried it in the man’s thigh.

  The guard cried out in pain. He’d had enough. He didn’t remove the knife. Keeping his gaze locked on Hud, he cupped his hand around the wound, which was bleeding profusely.

  Layah stood behind them like a lady warrior. She held the baton over her head. The gun was beneath her boot. One guard was cradling his broken arm nearby. The other was on the ground, half-conscious.

  “Give me the gun,” Hud said.

  “More are coming,” she said, moving her foot aside. “Look.”

  Hud picked up the weapon and trained it on the man with the knife wound. Two squad cars were tearing down the road. Someone had called them in. Hud could try to cross the bridge, but the police cars would overtake him. A tree-lined ravine on this side of the border offered immediate cover. It was his only hope.

  “Go,” he said, gesturing to the bridge. “They’ll follow me and you can make it across.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He pointed the gun at her. “Go.”

  She narrowed her eyes and started running—toward the ravine. She knew he wasn’t going to shoot her. He wasn’t even going to shoot these guards.

  Cursing, Hud tucked the weapon into his waistband and ran after her. The guards would give away his location and description, but so be it. Hud didn’t have the heart to execute three unarmed men. He also didn’t want the heat associated with being an American cop-killer in Iran. He could evade a small group of officers over rugged terrain. If they launched an extensive manhunt, he’d never get out of this country alive.

  He caught up to Layah quickly. She wasn’t slow, but he was faster. He pulled her toward the trees, with seconds to spare. As soon as they reached the ravine, they jumped together. Bullets peppered the trees above them.

  Hud let go of her hand as they tumbled into the creek bed. She scrambled to her feet and almost fell down in the mud. He drew the weapon he’d just stolen. He couldn’t hit a target with a handgun at this range, but he returned fire anyway. He wanted his pursuers to think twice about following them.

  “This way,” he said to Layah, crashing through the shallow water. They stayed in the ravine for several anxiety-filled moments. When he spotted a copse of trees that appeared thick enough to disguise their exit, they climbed the bank. Although he was desperate to get out of Iran, moving away from the border was a safer bet. They ran through a forest of bushy pines. He stuck to low ground as much as possible. Soon they reached a point where the only way forward was up.

  He looked over his shoulder again and saw no one. “We have to keep going.”

  She nodded her agreement. They climbed over boulders and continued uphill as fast as she could manage. He carried her pack, because he’d left his own behind. They jogged and scrambled and clawed their way to safety. He pushed her as hard as he dared, and then he pushed harder. When they reached a cluster of craggy rocks that might offer a good hiding space, he stopped.

  He was winded. Sweating. His muscles burning. He braced his hands on his knees, sucking air. Layah collapsed behind a boulder nearby. She drank water from her container between ragged breaths. He checked the position of the sun in the sky. Several hours had passed since the altercation at the border.

  After a moment of rest, he investigated the rock formation. He found a convenient nook to duck into. She joined him in the dark space, hugging her arms around her body. It smelled damp and faintly wild inside, as if an animal had lived here at some point.

  “Do you think we lost them?” she asked.

  He shrugged, raking a hand through his hair. If the Iranians had a team with dogs, they were in serious trouble. If not, they’d gained a short respite. Either way, their odds of escaping this little detour weren’t great.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “We did nothing. Those guards did not care to look at the passports. They did not want money.”

  “They were tipped off.”

  “What does this mean?”

  “They knew we were coming.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Rahim has connections all over. The Iranians might not be friends with the Da’esh, but they’ll take information from them.”

  She leaned back against the rock wall. “We’ll have to cross somewhere else.”

  “You think?”

  Her brow furrowed. “You are angry.”

  “Yes. I’m angry.”

  “I should be angry. You pointed a gun at me.”

  He closed the distance between them, bracing his palm on the boulder behind her. He wasn’t proud of his actions, but desperate times called for desperate measures. What she’d done at the border had been beyond reckless. Her refusal to follow his orders and her insistence on risking her life infuriated him. She’d gone too far. “I told you not to come with me,” he said in a low voice. “I told you to run across the bridge while you had the chance.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I saved you.”

  “You endangered yourself.”

  “What should I have done?”

  “You should have left me!”

  “They wanted to detain you.”

  “Now we’ll both die. Is that better?”

  She lifted her hand to his tense face. Like always, her touch affected him. It changed him. “I could not leave you, William Hudson.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “I could not leave you, because I—”

  He crushed his mouth over hers to cut her off. He couldn’t let her say the words, because then he might say them back. He’d been pushed past the limit already. He was at the end of his rope, over the edge, in too deep. They were combustible together, and the only way to fight this fire was to let it burn.

  She accepted his kiss with a breathy moan. Their mouths met in an explosion of heat and energy. She parted her lips wide and tangled her fingers in his hair. He thrust his tongue inside her silky mouth. She tasted wild and sweet and forbidden.

  He couldn’t get enough of her.

  His hands roamed the curves of her body and settled on her perfect bottom. He groaned, lifting her against his erection. He was rock-hard and ready to go. Her breasts were soft, her hips were lush and her mouth was magic.

  He needed more. He needed all of her.

  Breaking the kiss, he fumbled with her clothing, seeking bare skin. She pushed his hands away and pulled her shirt over her head helpfully. Her hijab went with it. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see
under her clothes, but a sexy bra wasn’t it. Her breasts were almost too full for the lace cups, which strained to hold their bounty.

  She tugged at the hem of his shirt with impatience. He was so stunned by her beauty that he didn’t want to look away, even for a second. He yanked his shirt over his head and took her mouth again, filling his hands with her breasts. Her nipples jutted against his palms and his erection swelled harder.

  He couldn’t stop—and she didn’t ask him to. He pushed her bra straps off her shoulders and her breasts tumbled free. Her taut nipples brushed his bare chest. She explored the bunched muscles in his back and tried to unfasten his belt. He made a strangled sound of enthusiasm. They were totally on the same page. His hands roamed under her skirt. She was wearing panties today. He yanked them down to her knees and slid his hand between her legs. She was damp with desire, her thighs quivering.

  “Yes,” she said, and that was all he needed to hear.

  He knelt at her feet to remove her panties completely. He could smell her arousal as he drew her skirt up to her waist. He wanted to taste her, but he just looked. His gaze rose from her bare thighs to her flushed face.

  Beautiful.

  “Hold this,” he said, indicating her skirt.

  She held the gathered fabric and watched him unbutton his fly. When he freed his erection, she moistened her lips in anticipation. He lifted her against the wall and positioned himself at her opening. Then he was pushing inside her, inch by inch. Her body stretched to accommodate his. She was slick. He was hard. It worked.

  It worked so good, he was close to finishing before he’d started.

  He groaned, thrusting deeper. She grasped him like a hot fist. Her inner muscles fluttered around his shaft. He slid out and drove back in, harder. She closed her eyes and made little sounds of pleasure, driving him wild.

  God. Her body was heaven.

  He gripped her hips and gave her all he had, his jaw clenched tight. Her breasts jiggled from the impact and his shaft glistened with her moisture. She clung to his shoulders, letting him take what he wanted. He was moving too fast, leaving her behind, but it felt too good to stop. He lost himself in her. Spools of pleasure unraveled inside him and he shuddered against her. With a hoarse cry, he climaxed.