by Ronie Kendig
Urgency spiked through her. She had to get him out now. Feet propped on the slab, she dug her hands in under Colton’s shoulders, dug her fingers around the drag strap, and with a quick move, she twisted and slid him to the side, freeing his torso.
He moaned.
Her stomach seized. “Colton?” When he didn’t respond, she tightened her grip, used the leverage of her legs, and hauled him backward. He came out a few inches. Relief spurred her on. She dug in and repeated the move.
Finally, when she’d cleared him from the debris, she collapsed. His head dropped into her lap, facing away from her. She glanced down. He hadn’t moved. Blood trickled down his face and marred his handsome features. Her hand trembled as she touched him, longing
to see the dimples that had always made her smile. The sky-blue eyes that always held a smile. Was he—?
She severed the thought. “Colton …?” Piper shifted around, still cradling his head in her lap. Smoothing a hand down the side of his cheek helped her determine the blood wasn’t from his face. Gently, she turned his head and found a gash at the back of his head. Blood soaked her khaki pants. “Oh Yeshua …”
Biting back the tears, she eased him down, trying to situate him so the wound wouldn’t be aggravated. Maybe she should turn him on his side. Piper scooted around and—yelped. Blue eyes looked up at her.
“Piper?” He blinked, confusion rippling over his bloodied brow. As he rolled toward her, he groaned. He frowned. “Piper, tell me it’s really you.” His eyes didn’t seem focused.
“Y-yes.”
His strong hands grabbed her, yanked her down into his arms. “Oh, thank God!” He crushed her against his chest, holding her tight. Squeezing. His breath skated along her neck and rustled her hair. He tightened his hold. “Thank You, God.” He kissed her ear. “I love you.
Dawg, I love you!”
Though the double vision lingered, he’d never felt more focused or had more clarity than this moment right here. “I never thought I’d see you again. When they hit the building, I thought that was it.”
He reveled in the way she held onto him, tight. Slowly, she lifted. “Shh, you should keep still.”
“I—I can’t see.” Then the situation slammed back into his memory. “The IRG! They were hammering us.” The world spun. Gray washed over his vision.
“Colton?” Panic edged into Piper’s voice.
He tightened his grip on her arms. He felt himself falling … deep into a black void.
“Over here!” a garbled voice shouted.
“Will he live?”
M16 in his hands, Azzan stood over the medic, who attended the cowboy. Beside them, his cousin watched, her bloodied hand over her face.
“Pulse is weak—loss of blood.” He nodded to the cowboy’s head as he probed his body for further injuries. “We’ve bandaged the injury, so that should slow till I do stitches. I don’t detect any broken bones or internal injures—but that’s not a guarantee.”
The medic pushed back onto his haunches. “We need to get him out of here, have that head wound checked out ASAP.”
Shadows shifted near the entrance.
Azzan snapped up his weapon and trained it on the four men ambling into the building. His defenses relaxed as he recognized them.
Frogman jogged over the rubble. “What happened? How is he?”
“Unconscious,” Midas said as he stood. “We need to evac him out of here stat.”
Azzan could not help but marvel that these men were more concerned about their team member than about Israel. He would need to redirect their focus. One man against a million souls … “What of the seventh messenger? Did he stop him?”
With a shrug, Frogman watched his friend. “No word. Coms are down.”
“Can’t you find out?” Legend said as he joined them, his large boots crunching over the debris. “Don’t you have endless connections?”
Azzan eyed the man, then lifted his phone. Dialed. Pressed it to his ear and waited.
“Well done, Azzan,” Nesher said. “You were wise to trust the Americans.”
“It is done, then?”
“It is.”
The weight that lifted from him seemed tangible. His first clear breath in weeks traveled through his lungs. Around him, the men patted each other’s backs, congratulated one another. A moan came from Cowboy, effectively drawing the attention of the team.
Movement drew Azzan’s focus. He glanced to the right—Legend bent over the foot Lily had originally thought to be the cowboy’s. Stone by stone, the large man started clearing away the debris. “Looks like we lost a rookie,” Legend said.
Frogman turned. “Scar?”
Wiping his hands, Legend nodded and stood. “He’s been there a while. Blood’s already drying.”
Dark and long, a shadow stretched toward the building.
M16 up, Azzan took aim in Legend’s direction.
The man froze, widened his eyes, then grabbed for his gun.
Azzan fired—at the shadow behind Legend that had coalesced into the form of an IRG gunman who’d leveled a Glock at the black man’s head.
Just before he fell, the enemy darted a look to something behind Azzan. Knowing the Nightshade team had huddled to the left, he pivoted around to the right in the direction the gunman had looked. Another form stepped into the open.
Azzan fired again. The man dropped to his knees, then slumped into the rocks. He scanned the perimeter, noting Max and the others were doing the same. Finally convinced they were not in immediate danger, he lowered his weapon.
A hand clamped onto his shoulder. He looked up into the ebony face of Legend. Dark, serious eyes probed him. Then, the large man shook Azzan’s hand. “This doesn’t change anything, you saving my life.”
“It was a mistake. My aim was off.”
“Hey,” Midas called as he knelt beside Cowboy. “He’s coming around.”
Frogman glanced back at Azzan. “Yeah, so is someone else.”
Marveling at the way his chest seemed to swell as if absorbing the man’s praise, Azzan kept his distance. The strange feeling left a heady aftertaste in his mouth. He needed to get out of here before he was compromised.
Slowly, Frogman and Midas helped Cowboy to his feet. Head bandaged, scratches clawing his face, Cowboy wobbled. “I—I can’t see.”
The mood visibly shifted. Midas and Frogman steadied him, exchanging concerned looks. Everyone hesitated.
Except Piper. She strode to him, wrapped an arm around his waist, and settled one of his arms over her shoulder. “We’ll get you home safely.” The man cupped her face, peering down at her, his eyes squinted as Frogman assisted him on the other side.
Watching them made him ache for what he’d lost. Raiyah. He’d never forget watching her brother kill her. In cold blood. With such cruelty. At least Hamzah al-Jafari was dead now. As was his father and the messengers. Israel was safe.
For now.
CHAPTER 31
Grief strangled him. The team had spirited out of Israel almost as soon as the helo landed back at the base. To avoid implication or suspicion, they headed to Cyprus, where a doctor ran tests on the head wound. Although there wasn’t internal bleeding, there was a bit of swelling. The doc didn’t make promises but felt when the swelling went down, Colton’s vision would return.
For now, he was in the dark. Literally. He hadn’t seen Piper—or rather, the wobbly gray shape of her form—since they left the base. When he finally wanted to see her, wanted things to be right … they were separated.
“How’s the noggin?”
“Thick.” Colton mumbled as he peered up at Max, cringing at the way the simple act of looking at someone tugged at the ligaments around his retina and felt like someone was using those ligaments as a bowstring. But the comment had made his friend laugh, and that was enough. “The double vision should subside within the week. Hopefully the rest will come back right and proper soon, too. I’ll have a full scan when we get back.”
“
That’ll be interesting.” With a chuckle, Max eased into the chair next to him in the hotel room. “We head out tomorrow.”
Which meant Colton would be farther away from Piper. He pushed aside the thought, unable to bear it. “What happened to Ben-Haim? Nobody has told me anything. Surprised he didn’t come thank us. Maybe he’s too proud.”
“Too dead is more like it.”
“Come again?”
“The seventh messenger—nailed by your bullet—was Ben-Haim.”
“Dawg.” He chewed over the news. The man Lambert trusted betrayed them all. It explained how they’d been found in the small village. “Does the Old Man know?”
“Just got off the phone with him.”
“Bet he wasn’t happy.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Max chuckled. “And seems we scared off the assassin.”
“Azzan?”
“Vanished about an hour after we got orders to clear out.” Max’s pushed to his feet. “Which is what we need to do again, now. A security detail is on its way to get Rosenblum and his daughter.”
“Rosen—Piper? But how?” Colton’s heart rapid fired in his chest. “They stayed in Israel.”
Max laughed. Hard. “You’re a loser, ya know that?” He chuckled again. “They were flown over separately for security reasons. They’re here, in the hotel.”
Here? The word knocked his courage sideways. She was here. Why did just her name make his chest feel like he was swimming in the deep sea? She hadn’t responded when he professed his love. And now, he was blind. Likely to heal up but not guaranteed. How much more broke could a guy get?
“You going to do something about that?”
Colton glanced at Max’s gray-like silhouette. “Come again?”
Max shook his head as he looked out the open bay. Sunlight bounced off the gunmetal gray floor and glowed against his dark eyes. “About eight months ago, you slapped the back of my head and said I was pathetic.”
With a quiet snort, Colton started to shake his head, but stopped when pain lashed through his skull. “Don’t remember calling you that.”
“If you didn’t have fifteen stitches, I’d repay the favor.” Max huffed. “Don’t … don’t let it end this way, Colton.”
His friend had used Colton’s first name only a few times. And that drew his gaze up—along with a fresh streak of pain. “This is her home, where she lives.” I’m practically blind. I have flashbacks. Broken-down cowboy. She deserved better.
“She belongs with you, and to quote a thick-headed, equally pathetic friend, ‘any sane person—and I do qualify that with sane— could see she loves you as much as you love her.’ “
Colton had to smile at the way Max had used his own words on him. They’d been in the Filipino jungles, rescuing missionaries—and Max’s then-estranged wife—when Colton had tried to haul Max up straight with truth and direct talk.
“That’s just the thing—I can’t see.”
“Maybe when we get back, the doc can actually put a brain in that noggin of yours.” Max grunted. “You are lame, ya know that?”
“Israel’s her home.” Rising to his full six-two height, Colton sighed. “I doubt she’d go back to Virginia and leave her homeland. Besides, after what I did to her, I don’t deserve her.”
“Got that right,” Max said. “Rosenblum and Piper are treating us to dinner. If you’re going to give her the cold shoulder, don’t blame me when things get ugly.”
“Come in, come in!”
Piper stood back from the door, rubbing her hands down her slacks as her father welcomed the men into the humble—very humble—home. The entire flat could fit into Colton’s living room, or could have before his home had been destroyed.
The Kid let out a long whistle. “Who owns the place?”
“In a moment, in a moment, nachon.” Baba motioned everyone inside as if this were his home.
Piper skated a look to one of her father’s dearest and oldest friends, Dr. Admes Golding, who’d welcomed them into his home for as long as necessary while the chaos that erupted over the attack settled and they could safely return to Be’er Sheva. She could not help but wonder if her father had spent some of his time hiding here. Dr. Golding held a twinkle in his eye as he stood at the doors to the open patio. Beyond him, the ocean sparkled and a wave tumbled inward, as if reaching for them.
“What is this?” Max’s worry was palpable as he eyed Dr. Golding.
Colton stepped in, his presence sucking every available cell of oxygen from her lungs. A bandage covered the back of his head, and he walked stiffly. Still he cannot see clearly.
Heart clenched, she went to him. Slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. “You look well.”
His smile came easy, dimples winking at her as he placed a hand over hers. “I don’t look at much.”
Her heart swirled and jumped into her throat as she led him to a chair and directed him into it. When she straightened, she could not help but notice the way the team tensed and stood awkwardly. Realizing their concern over safety and being identified, Piper scrambled to concoct an excuse for the presence of so many men in their flat. “Dr. Golding, these men are friends from America. Here on … on an archeological dig.”
Dr. Golding wrinkled his brow. “Friends?” He looked at her father, then back to her. “What does she mean? I see no one here save you, dear Kelila, and your old, graying father.”
Piper stilled at the man’s assertion. Surely … she glanced at Colton, then at Max and Legend, who exchanged slow grins.
“Now,” Dr. Golding said. “Where are the falafels and babka you baked for me earlier, Kelila?”
Stunned at the quick change in topic, she blinked. “I—I will get them.” She placed a hand on Colton’s shoulder, whispered, “I will return,” and strode to the small kitchen, where she retrieved two platters of food. After she placed them on the table around which sat the cushions, she returned to Colton’s side.
“Come, my friends,” her father said as he plopped down at the table. “Let us eat!”
“I’ll prepare you a plate,” she said to Colton.
“No.” The gruff tone stopped her short. Colton’s eyes darted back and forth, and his face seemed twisted in anger.
Almost instantly, the conversation died down. Then resumed, but lighter, quieter.
Colton must’ve noticed. His face grew red; then he relaxed marginally and nodded to her. The next hour was spent in conversation about the food, the weather, and cars. The men of the team never fully relaxed, especially in the presence of Dr. Golding. Although Piper understood their guarded behavior, she wished she could convince them he was a good man.
Next to her, Colton sat with his gaze fixed on the floor. He’d said little in the hour that passed, and only grew more pensive and withdrawn. Hesitantly, she moved away from him to clear the plates and refresh drinks. When she returned, Colton was gone.
She stopped, glanced at the chair he’d just occupied, then around the room. The Kid shifted closer to her, and nodded toward the back doors. She looked out into the dark night and just made out the light color of Colton’s shirt. With a small smile to the Kid, she excused herself and stepped out of the house.
A cool breeze rushed over her, coming in off the sea. She plodded across the sandy beach to where Colton stood with his hands tucked in his jeans as he faced the sea.
“Are you okay?”
“No, reckon not.” He didn’t move a muscle, not even his eyes.
The water sparkled beneath the gentle caress of a full moon. Waves rolled in, then tumbled back out to the great deep. Colton’s quiet, unmoving posture made her heart beat a little faster. Was he upset that her father had brought them here? Had she insulted him by offering to help him get a plate? Or maybe it was Dr. Golding.
“I hope Dr. Golding did not alarm you or the others.”
“Took us off guard, that’s for sure.” He shrugged. “But he knew how to ease our minds. He a family friend?”
“He w
as the godfather of Bazak, my brother—the one who died.”
“Ah,” he said, a grin pinching the dimple in his cheek. “The brother whose death made you hate the military.”
She couldn’t help but laugh now. “Which made you afraid I’d hate you.”
“Do you?”
His question stopped her. She frowned up at him. “What? How could you ask that?” Though she tried, she couldn’t hide her disappointment.
Colton shifted and started walking, head down. He reached up and rubbed his shoulder as she trudged alongside him.
“What’s wrong, Colton?”
Finally, he stopped and again faced the ocean with a long sigh. “I thought I’d made my peace with God, with things ….”
“But?”
“I can’t see straight.”
“How did that change your peace with God?”
Jaw muscle popping, he looked down. “It shouldn’t. But I just don’t get why—”
“Baba said something to you when we were on the mission. Do you remember?” The soothing whoosh of the rolling tide eased her mind as she waited for Colton to respond.
“He said a lot.”
“He said that if we’re given success, it’s not to make our lives easier, but to prepare us for the next battle.”
“I should be Hercules by now.”
She smiled. “Perhaps. Wouldn’t it be better to think of this as another path God is taking you down so you can help someone else, rather than soak up the pity and self-loathing that would drown you?”
He smoothed a hand over the back of his neck. “Dawg, woman. You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
She’d spoken too boldly. “Baba has raised me to speak plainly. I should not have—I’m sorry.”
“No.” He stepped closer. “You’re right. I just want …” He huffed. Turned to her. Turned back to the water. Back to her.
Piper couldn’t stop the smile.