After a while, the penicillin and bath seemed to work, and the fever broke. Her breathing, still ragged, was calmer than it had been when Julie first arrived. With any luck, Yana would be able to sleep for a few hours before the coughing started.
Julie and Betesh walked back into the living room. Kidd faced the kitchen door. His gaze barely left the spot as Julie and Betesh entered. Conrad and Georgie were next to the window. Conrad didn’t look their way when they entered.
“I’ll just check when dinner will be ready,” Betesh said, and walked through the doorway to the kitchen.
Conrad glanced at Julie over his shoulder. “What’s up, Doc?”
Kidd glanced at her, but quickly turned his attention back to the doorway. “Yeah, you have an odd look.”
“I don’t know…it could be nothing.” She moved in between the men so she could lower her voice. She didn’t need Betesh overhearing her conversation. “Yana is very sick, and has been for some time.”
“Yeah, I thought that’s why we were here,” Kidd said.
“No, you don’t understand…she is way more advanced than he led me to believe. I could maybe see it in a child that had parents without medical knowledge, but Betesh should’ve addressed her decline a lot earlier than he did. As it is, I believe she has a very serious case of pneumonia.”
Conrad and Kidd exchanged glances. “What do you think is going on?” Conrad asked.
“I have no idea,” she answered truthfully. It was all very strange. Betesh was a skilled doctor. She would trust him with a loved one’s care without question…before this incident.
“Have you done what you can for her?” Conrad asked.
Julie nodded. “She’s sleeping and her fever seems to be under control. Until she wakes, there’s really not much else I can do for her.”
Kidd stood. “I say we get the hell out of here most ricky-tic.”
Betesh came into the room. “Dinner will not be much longer,” he said. He raised a shaky hand and moped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief. His eyes darted between the three of them.
He looked…anxious. Afraid.
But of what?
“Thank you, sir,” Kidd said, “But we’ve just received word that we have to return to the compound ASAP.”
“No!” Betesh’s voice reverberated through the room.
Julie stared at the man. What the hell? He had never raised his voice in her presence before. His arms were outstretched, preventing them from leaving. He sidestepped around them toward the front door, never turning his back to them. The hairs on Julie’s neck stood on end. The air in the room was suddenly sparking with unrest.
Reaching his hand behind him, Betesh brandished a gun from his waistband. Julie gasped. He always seemed placid, calm, almost too relaxed in the midst of civil unrest and war.
His features screwed up. His eyes danced wildly between the three of them. He raised his hand until Julie was staring down the black barrel. Her heart beat erratically and way too fast. Any minute she expected it to break free of her chest and dart out the door to safety without her.
“Easy now, Betesh,” Conrad’s voice was calm and in control behind her. “Tell us what you need from us and we can make it happen. If you hurt the good doc here, we’ll be forced to take you out. You don’t want your family to see that, do you?”
“Lower the weapon, and we’ll leave and forget this happened,” Kidd said.
“No, you can’t leave,” Betesh screamed. “No one can leave.”
Julie’s heart dropped to her stomach. A cold wave of understanding doused her. Betesh had no intention of letting them leave.
Not alive, anyway.
Chapter 9
Conrad’s heart boomed in his ears. He stared at the barrel aimed at Doc’s face. A strange, overwhelming sensation of fear and loss swept through him. He couldn’t lose her. Not after he had found the one woman who made him feel complete, as if a part of him had been missing for his entire life, and had suddenly shown up.
Just to be taken away before they could explore a deeper relationship.
That shit was not going to happen. Doc was not going to die while he stood by and watched. Conrad would give his life to protect hers.
Bestesh’s hands shook. It wouldn’t take much for the gun to slip in his grip, and for him to inadvertently squeeze the trigger trying to regain control.
There was no time to waste. Doc’s life was too important to too many people, not just Conrad. She was a doctor, and from what Conrad could see, a damn good one. She would be the one to save his brothers in arms that returned injured. She would save lives of people he cared about. Loved like family.
That was more important than Conrad’s life.
Betesh swung his gaze toward the kitchen. Conrad lunged at the man. Georgie launched as soon Conrad moved. Betesh whipped the gun around, but Conrad was able to knock the barrel to the side.
A blast reverberated through the room.
Conrad heard the painful yelp and thud as Georgie hit the floor. He looked down. Doc was already on top of Georgie, her hands running over the dog.
“Just grazed her,” she said. Conrad exhaled, relief flowing through his body. Another gunshot rang in his ears.
Pain seared through Conrad’s upper arm. A second shot rang out. Conrad smelled the burning flesh before he felt the bullet pass through his upper arm and pierce his side.
He dropped to the floor. Doc crawled toward him, but halted when a second set of boots kicked her in the side. She grasped her sides, and cried out in pain.
“No one move,” a male voice yelled with a heavy accent and broken English. “Put your weapon down.”
Kidd’s rifle slid to the floor. Conrad knew he had more weapons on him. They both had a handgun and knife. But Conrad also knew that Kidd would not be able to get to them while both men had guns on them. They would have to wait for a better opportunity.
He spoke to Betesh in Syrian. Conrad vision grew darker. He glanced at Doc. Her eyes were wide and she mouthed, “Are you okay?”
He nodded, and fought through the pain.
“You,” the second man yelled and pointed at Doc. “Help him up.” Then he pointed the end of the AR-15 at Kidd. “And you, pick up the dog.”
They followed Betesh down the hallway with the other man behind them. When they reached the end, they walked across a small space to an outer building.
“Inside,” the man ordered, shoving Doc in the back. She fell into Conrad, and both sprawled on the floor. Pain knifed through Conrad’s chest. He struggled to take a breath. His vision narrowed. Small white stars dotted the space in front of his eyes. Lightheaded…he was going to lose consciousness.
Doc scrambled off him, and rolled him on his good side. Her hands ran from his hip toward his underarm, stopping where there was the greatest source of pain.
“Shit,” she said under her breath. Conrad watched her turn her head and look over her shoulder at where Betesh stood with his rifle trained on them. Every action was in slow motion, as if Conrad was watching an old reel-to-reel movie that was on slow speed.
“I need my medical bag,” Doc said.
“No, you don’t,” Betesh said. “Saving his life now will not save him for very long.”
“Fuck,” Conrad muttered. “Georgie was trying to tell me there were explosives. I wasn’t paying attention. The house must be rigged.”
“Why?” Doc asked Betesh, her face red, her eyes dark. “Why are you doing this? We’re friends. I was training you to save lives, not destroy them.”
A sneer slid across the man’s face, distorting him into someone unrecognizable. “You are all infidels. You invade our country, take over our cities, and claim a moral high ground over all of us. You do not care to understand us. You do not believe in Allah. We are taught to root out the evil among us…the infidels. I have a higher purpose. I was lost for a while, but I have returned to the teachings of the Koran.”
“But Yana,” Doc said, her voice hitching as she sa
id the girl’s name.
“She will not be in pain for long.”
“No! You’re not going to leave her in this house, are you?”
Conrad knew the answer. Girls were not recognized or celebrated in the same manner as they were in western cultures. They were expendable. And Conrad had no disillusions about whether or not Betesh would save his child. If Yana was a son, the story might be different. But sacrificing a girl—a daughter—was no sacrifice at all.
The second man appeared, pulled out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” Betesh asked him, sweat dripping from his forehead down his face. He wasn’t bothering to wipe it anymore, apparently giving into the sweltering heat of the confined space. It was hot as balls in the room.
“Taking pictures,” the man responded. “To show the world our victory when they challenge our celebrations. America will weep for three soldiers and a dog, but we will be heroes, and Allah will smile upon us.”
Georgie had squirmed free of Kidd’s arms, and was standing guard at Conrad’s feet, teeth bared. A low growl rumbled from the dog’s chest, making it clear that she was more than prepared to rip out one of the men’s throats, if Conrad gave the order. Or if one of them moved any closer to Conrad.
“Betesh, don’t do this,” Doc pleaded.
“No talking!” His companion yelled. Doc startled, but quickly puffed her chest out. The woman was ready to stand up to this prick. If Conrad hadn’t been in so much pain, he may have kissed her.
The man glanced at Betesh, taking his eyes off them for no more than a split second, and nodded toward the door. Betesh left without looking back, the other man following, his gun still trained on the three of them. The door closed and the slide of the deadbolt echoed through the space.
None of them breathed. There was no sound in the room.
“Well, fuck,” Kidd said, breaking the silence. “Any suggestions?” He asked Conrad.
“The charges are most likely outside, and they will be on a remote detonator so they can clear the area before it blows.” Conrad swung his head around, squinting to see in the dark. “We need to find some sort of shelter—something we can get under that might absorb some of the blast, and keep debris off us as much as possible.”
It was a pipe dream, at best. Conrad looked at Kidd, who nodded and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. They had been searching for cell signal since they arrived at the house. Syria wasn’t the U.S., where cell towers were everywhere.
A flashlight beam danced around the room. Conrad tried to roll over and follow the light, but pain ripped through his chest and down his side.
“Be still.” Doc’s eyes were intense, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, and her hands were pushing at the area around his bullet wound.
“Damn, Doc,” Conrad said through gritted teeth. “That fucking hurts.”
“Sorry, but you’re going to have to suck it up. I don’t have anything that I need to treat this in the usual manner, so you’re going to have to dig deep and suffer through it.” Her eyes lifted to his, dark, intense, beautiful. And full of determination. Conrad knew if he survived the blast, it would be Doc that ultimately saved his life.
In more ways than one.
Chapter 10
Kidd knelt next to Conrad across from where Julie was ripping at the hem of Conrad’s t-shirt, and pushing pieces of fabric into the bullet hole at his side. With any luck, she’d be able to plug up the hole, and slow the bleeding. What she needed was a surgical suite so she could remove it and stitch him up properly. She would at least like to have access to her medical bag and some clean sheets or towels. But that wasn’t an option, so she was going to have to settle for the meager provisions she had at hand and the primitive treatment until they could get out of there.
If they got out of there.
“There’s a bathroom at the back. It’s not directly against an exterior wall, and there is a cast iron tub and a shower stall.”
“That’d be our best bet,” Conrad said. His voice was low and strained. Julie glanced at his face. He was struggling to keep his eyes open.
She slapped his face. He couldn’t pass out now. She needed him conscious. “Hey, stay with us. We have to get to the other room and you’re going to have to help. Got it?”
If he was shocked by the slap, he didn’t show it. But he was more alert, temporarily. They needed to move—fast. There was no telling how long Conrad would stay conscious. Or how long until the bombs blew.
Kidd stood, and pulled Conrad up and over his shoulder in one swift move.
Well…that’s impressive.
Georgie was on her feet, gaze never leaving her handler. “Come, Georgie,” Conrad commanded. The dog stayed close to Kidd’s legs all the way into the bathroom. Kidd lowered Conrad into the tub, and turned to look at Julie.
“Doc, you get in with him. I found some rugs rolled up in the other room. They should help contain debris.”
Julie stepped into the tub, carefully placing her feet in between Conrad’s legs and lowering herself to his uninjured side. She looked up at Kidd. “What about you and Georgie?”
“We’ll be in the shower.”
Conrad’s gaze darted to Kidd, who just nodded at him. Julie knew they didn’t need words to convey Conrad’s concerns. And with a simple gesture, Kidd had given him the answer Conrad needed. Georgie would be protected—Kidd would make sure of it.
The rug was heavy, and blocked out what little light there was in the room. It was eerie. She could hear Kidd whispering to Georgie, and the rustle of something heavy—most likely the other rug.
Then it was quiet. The only sound was the pounding of Julie’s heartbeat in her ears. It was extraordinarily loud. Time stood still as they waited for the inevitable. Julie wondered if she should pray, and struggled to remember a prayer. But her mind was a blank. So she just asked for God to save them. And if not them, then Conrad. He had the opportunity to save so many lives with his work. Many more than Julie ever could. The world needed Conrad more than they needed a small-town doctor.
“I wasn’t sure I would ever get you next to me like this again, Doc,” Conrad whispered. “It would be romantic, if—you know—"
“We weren’t about to die?” Julie concluded with a snort.
“Don’t think like that,” Conrad said. “You have to be positive. Stranger things have happened…I’ve seen them. I’ve survived them. This is not the way we go out.”
Julie smiled. How was he able to do that? Facing death, or at least the prospect of having limbs blown off them and suffering third degree burns…and yet, was able to provide a glimmer of hope that was brightening with every beat of his heart against her ribs.
“No matter what happens, though—I’m glad I’m here with you, Doc.”
Tears flooded Julie’s eyes and she choked on the sudden rush of emotion that clogged her throat. She wanted to say she felt the same, but couldn’t get the words out. She nodded into his chest, tipped her head back, and kissed his cheek. He turned his head, and caught her lips with his.
The world exploded. The noise was deafening. She felt Conrad’s arms wrap around her. Her face was pressed so hard to his chest she could barely breath. The sounds of concrete smashing, glass shattering, and wood splintering was the background music to the deafening series of explosions. The ground shook as if they were at the epicenter of an eight-point magnitude earthquake.
Then…silence. Julie wasn’t sure if she should speak. Were Betesh and the other man waiting around to see if they had accomplished killing the four of them? She was desperate to discover if there were any injuries to the others.
Or worse.
No, don’t think like that. Conrad had said there was hope, and she was going to cling to that until she knew different. She slid her hand over the center of Conrad’s chest, but couldn’t tell if he was breathing or if her hands were shaking so badly that it just felt as if he was inhaling and exhaling. Sliding her fingers along his neck, she checked his carotid
.
A strong beat drummed against her fingertips.
“Doc, are you checking to see if I’m alive?” Conrad whispered.
She nodded into his chest. “Yes, sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should speak.” She shifted and tried to sit up so she could get some of her weight off him, but something heavy was forcing her down. “I can’t get up.”
“Yeah, probably a shit ton of debris.”
“So, we survived getting blown up just to suffocate under all the rubble?”
“Well, that was one of the risks,” Conrad said, his voice strained. “But then, we didn’t have much of a choice.”
He was in pain, and the additional weight from Doc was causing it to be more difficult for him to breath. She ran her hand to his side. Warm, wet, and sticky. He was bleeding again. Or still.
Neither was a good sign.
Doc heard grunts and groans, and then the sound of cement blocks falling to the floor. The rug was lifted and tossed aside. The beam of a flashlight blinded her.
Fuck! Her arm covered her eyes. Friend or foe? She had no idea, and wasn’t sure what she could do to protect herself and Conrad.
“You guys okay?” Kidd asked.
Doc nearly burst into tears at the sound of his voice.
“Yes, but Conrad’s bleeding. We’ve got to get him out of here.” Kidd lowered the beam of light and she was able to see his face. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Georgie?” Conrad asked through clenched teeth. At the sound of her handler’s voice, the dog popped her head over the side of the tub, nose sniffing and rubbing along Conrad’s cheek.
“Shaken up, but seems to have come through it without a scratch.” He dropped something on the floor beside her, landing with a thud. “Found some sheets and towels.”
Well, that was something, she guessed.
“We need to get Conrad back to the compound,” Doc said. “What are the chances the Humvee is still operable?”
Conrad Page 5