by Jodie Bailey
Jessica lifted her head, fighting to keep her wits against the pain in her shoulder, searching for leverage to throw him off her back.
As soon as her head lifted, Joel slammed it into the floor, slinging shooting lights across her vision.
Her temple pounded and her vision clouded. She hardly felt him move as he leaned to the side and pulled the backpack closer. Pinning her with his knee, he freed his hand to unzip the backpack and retrieve the roll of duct tape. “You just made hurting you a whole lot easier.”
* * *
It took everything Sean had not to shove Tate out of the way and slam the pedal of the sedan all the way to the floor. If the cops followed him, it was more firepower to the party.
Firepower. “Are you armed?” Since he couldn’t carry it on post, Sean had left his pistol in the trunk of the rental car while on Fort Campbell, locked up and unloaded. He assumed it had gone up with the rest of the vehicle.
“Got my Sig in the trunk.” Tate negotiated the turn onto Jessica’s street at a speed most drivers would consider unsafe and kept his focus on the road. “I’m guessing you’re weaponless?”
“At the moment, but I have an idea.” Boy, did he hope it panned out. If not, they were going up against a terrorist with a grudge and only one weapon between the two of them.
“How long before Ethan’s reinforcements get here?”
“They had to get orders, and the last text I had gave an ETA of half an hour. We haven’t got that kind of time.” Sean had spent the entire ride with his laptop open, intent on the email icon, praying in a way he hadn’t prayed in years that another photo wouldn’t show up in his inbox. An incoming email would have stopped his heart, would have been a telltale sign that Joel Mina had already started torturing Jessica. He lifted his head from the screen and pointed to a driveway several houses up from Jessica’s. “Pull in there and hide the car behind that SUV.”
“This is the nosy neighbor’s house?” Tate slowed and negotiated the turn at a more sedate pace, nearly driving Sean to jump out of the vehicle and run the last few yards himself.
“The nosy neighbor who’s a retired major in Special Forces.” One Sean desperately hoped had a gun or two at the ready.
In spite of the situation, Tate chuckled. “You make the right kinds of friends, Turner.” He shifted the car into Park as Sean threw the door open. “Or God’s watching out for you.”
There wasn’t time to ponder that comment now. Three doors down, Jessica might be fighting for her life.
The side door slipped open, and the major stepped out, waving Sean and Tate forward. He cut an imposing figure, height matching Sean’s own six feet, hair not quite as gray as it should be, but streaking back from the temples, leaving silver lines in a sea of brown. “Been keeping an eye on the place. No one’s left.”
Sean clasped his extended hand. “This is a friend of mine. He’s armed, and I’m not. Think you can help a guy out?”
The major flashed a quick smile and jerked a thumb toward the house. “Got you a Glock 20 and a Sig P229 laid out there on the table by the door in case you needed them. Take your pick.” As Sean started to pass, the major laid a hand on his arm, all semblance of humor dropping away. “And you don’t know how hard it’s been not to carry both of them down the street myself.”
Sean swallowed the emotion that welled up and threatened to choke him. All he could do was nod. Nobody knew better than him. All he wanted at the moment was to break into a run, weapon or no.
Sean hefted the Glock and checked the chamber, then slid in one magazine and pocketed a second. He caught Tate’s eye over the major’s shoulder. “You ready for this? I’m not waiting twenty more minutes on Ethan’s guys.” Not when he had no idea what Joel Mina was doing to Jessica. His imagination was giving him trouble enough. Lord, get us through this and get us out of there alive.
Major White lifted the Sig from the small table. “Whatever you’re planning, I’m with you.”
Sean started to argue, then stopped himself. With the major’s training, he likely knew more than Sean and Tate put together.
Sean caught Tate’s approval and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He stepped out of the shelter of the small carport and looked around the house to Jessica’s. Up the street, several boys gathered up a football and headed for their front door. The neighborhood was quiet otherwise.
From the front, Jessica’s house stood empty and silent, but there was no telling what waited behind those drawn curtains. Joel Mina might not know they had him figured out yet, or he might be two steps ahead of them and laid every trap imaginable.
Sean tightened his fingers on the Glock’s grip and tapped his index finger on the side of the barrel. “We can’t all go in the front or we risk a neighbor getting suspicious and investigating or calling the police and escalating this. Tate, take the side door and come in when you hear me call you. Sir, keep an eye on the front door and don’t hesitate if you hear something that makes you think we need you. If Ethan’s buddies show up early, step away and fill them in. I’m going in the back.” He broke away and headed for the backyard to avoid showing himself from the street.
Tate grabbed his elbow as Sean passed. “The major and I will go. You’re staying here. You’ve got too much emotionally invested in this.”
“You’re out of the Army, Walker.” Sean refused to meet Tate’s eye and jerked away to continue on his intended path, walking away from a confrontation with his friend. Tate wasn’t the enemy, and Sean wasn’t going to expend energy or waste time fighting his partner. “You can’t give me an order.” There was no way he was sitting idly by while someone else put their life on the line for his mistake in Afghanistan.
One way or another, this ended today.
NINETEEN
From the back corner of the small brick house next door, Sean watched Tate take up a position next to Jessica’s side door, his back pressed tight against the house. In the front, Major White crept into position, crouched low by the steps and hidden from the street by large azalea bushes.
Tate caught Sean’s eye and nodded, pointing with two fingers for Sean to move. The house must be silent or Tate would have signaled otherwise and had them both go in fighting.
Sean wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not.
Staying low, gun at the ready before him, Sean crept between the houses and along the covered porch behind Jessica’s, scanning the windows for movement, but the house was still. He slipped up the stairs and across the wood floor, keeping close to the wall. It hadn’t even been twelve hours since he’d pushed Jessica away from him on this same porch, had told her God didn’t care. Based on everything he’d seen so far today—every clue dropped in their lap at the right moment—he’d been severely wrong on all counts.
And if he ever got Jessica to safety again, he’d tell her every single thing he’d been wrong about, including pushing her and God away in his need to do this all himself. He’d never been more certain than he was right now, on the brink of losing Jessica, that he needed someone else.
And despite the fact he’d only known her a handful of days, he was growing more certain by the minute that it was her.
But none of that mattered if he couldn’t get her safely out of that house and neutralize Joel Mina. That was a feat he couldn’t do on his own, and now, crouched on her back porch, he knew, with a clarity he’d never known before, whom he needed.
It wasn’t just Jessica. He needed the God he’d been shoving away for far too long. The God who’d proven Himself faithful through everything, even when Sean insisted he could do this all by himself.
He couldn’t even save himself. It wasn’t in his power. Jessica was right in what she said last night. Every step of the way, God had rescued him... Ashley... Ethan... And today He’d led Sean right to Jessica. God wasn’t hands-off just because He didn’t do things the way
Sean wanted. He was fully involved, guiding Sean in spite of every mistake he made.
Sean checked that he was hidden well, then turned his eyes skyward. He could take one minute to do this right. Okay. I give up, God. This is all Yours. You’re the only One who can get us all out of this alive, so I’m handing it over. Right now. All of it. Because I need You to be in charge.
There was no miraculous rescue. No lightning bolt from the blue that zapped through the house and struck Joel Mina. But there was strength. A new strength that came from letting go. Sean grabbed it and held on, breathing it in, ready to follow God’s lead wherever it led.
He slipped Jessica’s house key from his pocket and tried to remember if the door leading from the small laundry room to the hallway had been closed this morning. Unless Tate had opened it before he left, his last memory was seeing it tightly shut as he walked up the hallway. Sean said a quick prayer that it still was and slipped the key into the lock.
The key settling into place sounded like a jackhammer to his straining ears, and he clicked the lock slowly, then eased the door open, unable to remember if it squeaked or not. For the first time, he was grateful there was no alarm to signal his entry.
Clearing the laundry room, he stepped to the door leading into the hallway and pressed his ear to the wood. Nothing. No talking. No movement. He was going in blind, with no idea where Joel was holding Jessica. He cataloged the house and eliminated the idea that Joel had taken her upstairs. Too much difficulty, and Jessica was smart enough to throw Joel off balance on the stairs and take him down. No, they had to be downstairs. The only rooms to the right of the laundry room were the bathroom and the office where Tate had been bunking, which left the living and dining room area or the kitchen, both wide-open to the hallway as soon as he stepped out if Joel Mina was standing in the right spot.
Sean would have to take his chances. And pray that Tate and the major were good at kicking in doors.
Readying his trigger finger, Sean pulled the door open and peered around it.
No one stood in his line of sight. Back close to the wall, he crept up the hallway, weapon at the ready.
Just before the hallway opened up, he stopped, listening. A low, guttural series of groans cut the silence. Jessica. He inched nearer and saw her foot, then followed it up. She was bound with duct tape to one of her dining room chairs, a bruise red and angry above the tape covering her mouth.
But she was alive.
A force from the left slammed him forward into the opposite wall, trapping his weapon between him and the hard surface, the corner of the wall crashing into his forearm and shooting lightning bolts clear to his shoulder. He gripped the gun tighter and forced himself backward, using the wall for leverage and driving his attacker back into the living room. They stumbled together, Sean landing on his back on his attacker’s legs.
Rolling to the side, he hefted up to level his weapon, but Joel Mina swung his foot, catching Sean in the wrist and sending the gun skittering across the floor.
Rather than dive after the weapon, Sean used his height advantage to throw himself at Joel, catching him at the stomach and driving him backward into the couch, flipping him over the back. Sean lost his footing just before he tumbled over after Mina.
Mina’s head crashed into the coffee table and he rolled off the side, landing on his hands and knees.
Rounding the side of the couch, Sean leaped again as Joel tried to stand. Sean caught him in the side and drove him to the ground, pinning him there by his throat with his left hand and driving a fist into his jaw with his right as the side door crashed open behind him. He’d never, ever wanted to kill a man before, but his mind clouded with the image of Jessica bound behind him, bruised and wounded.
“Turner.” Tate appeared in his peripheral vision, weapon leveled on Mina. “It’s over. Get Jessica.”
Sean released Mina, resisting the urge to slam his knuckles into the man’s face one more time, and backed away as the major came in the busted side door followed by two heavily armed men in black.
Let them have Mina. He brushed past Tate and went straight to Jessica, seeing nothing else but her, tears of relief leaking down her cheeks and weakening his muscles as the adrenaline ebbed.
He knelt in front of her and blew out the breath he felt he’d been holding for hours, then reached up and pulled the duct tape from her cheek, wincing in sympathy as it pulled away, leaving a red burn in its wake. Pressing the tape into the carpet, he reached up and laid a hand against her uninjured cheek. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, leaning her palm into his. “Or I will be. Just...get me out of here.”
He nodded, not trusting his voice. His surrender outside had unlocked something around his heart, something that kept him from breathing when he was this close to her. He was gone. Done. Finished. In love with this woman in a way that physically ached, that locked his jaw and kept him from speaking the words. He stood, trying to put enough space between them to allow him to speak.
One of the soldiers in black stepped up and held out a knife. “Got a message for you from Captain Kincaid.” The man grinned beneath his eye protection and helmet. “Said to tell you guys that they rounded up the impostors in Dylan’s battalion and passed the word ahead to the rest. Army’s got eyes wide-open and is checking every soldier in the ranks.”
Jessica slumped. “We did it.” She tipped her head toward Joel Mina, who was being hauled out the door by two more armed men. “We beat him.”
Sean knelt behind Jessica, laying a hand on her shoulder, and slid the knife through the duct tape holding her hands, then her feet. She pulled her right arm forward and cradled it close.
Sean slipped around to the front and reached for her, pulling her near, her right arm between them, her left easing around his neck. In this moment, he didn’t think he’d ever get her close enough. He didn’t care who was watching, didn’t care what anyone had to say. He just wrapped her tight and held on, determined to never let her go.
* * *
Jessica pulled the blanket up higher with her left hand, careful to keep her right cradled close in its sling. Her head pounded in rhythm with her heart rate, the spot where Joel Mina had driven her into the floor drawing all of her senses into it. It was that same bump that made the doctor decide to keep her until morning to ensure her brain didn’t explode.
Outside her door, two nurses padded by, glancing at her as they moved on.
But inside it was silent except for the throbbing in her head, a rhythm she wished she could get away from.
Tate had dropped by a few minutes before to pass on the good news. Joel Mina wasn’t saying a word, but Kyle Randall had started talking the minute Sean delivered the news of Mina’s capture. Jessica’s unit was the only one successfully infiltrated thus far. The remaining men and women in the photos from Channing’s email were camped in various places around the country, waiting to take their positions. Homeland was rounding them up even as Jessica rested uncomfortably in her hospital bed.
Tate had stepped out to see if she was cleared for something to eat. She wasn’t hungry, but it had been an excuse to get him to leave her by herself for a moment.
Jessica was grateful for his visit, and for Major White’s before him. But the man she really wanted to see had yet to show his face. Sean had stepped aside when the paramedics appeared, and he’d been gone ever since, having never said another word to her. The way he’d looked at her, something new and different in his expression, had kindled her hope, but it was rapidly burning out. The likelihood that he was already on the way to parts unknown, that he’d left without a goodbye now that the mission was over hung heavy, driving a pain into her chest that rivaled the one in her head.
“Jessica.” The voice, hesitant from the door, ramped up her heart rate.
Her pulse fell back and pitched up again as she recognized her
father. “Dad?”
His smile was one she hadn’t seen before. He stepped into the room and gestured at the chair by her bed, waiting for her permission. When she nodded, he sat down, tossing his jacket onto the foot of the bed. “You look like you failed combatives training.”
Jessica swallowed the bitterness. Of course failure would be one of his first words to her. But the fact was, it didn’t matter anymore. She was her own woman, her own soldier, and she didn’t need him to approve of her. Hearing Joel Mina’s blind devotion to his father’s desires had cured her of that. “You should see the other guy.”
He cracked a smile. “So your friend outside tells me.” He reached for her hand, his fingers warm on hers. “You did a good thing today. Word has it you probably saved our military. That’s pretty powerful stuff.”
Her eyes widened. Was that approval? Tears choked her and tried to leak out, but she blinked them back. She might not need him to endorse her decisions, but the fact that he had was a whole new thing.
She cleared her throat. “And you can never tell anyone the awesome thing your daughter did. It has to stay classified.” If word ever got out, Mina wouldn’t have to deploy his faux army to spread panic. It would happen strictly by word of mouth and his goal would be accomplished for him.
“I know.” He squeezed her fingers. “But I don’t need that to be proud of you. Fact is, Jessica, I am proud. I just don’t always show it. I guess...” He dropped his gaze to their linked hands. “It’s a different thing when your daughter goes off to war than when your son does. I’ve been chest-puffing proud of you, but... A daddy looks at his daughter different, and I guess I thought if I didn’t approve, you’d take another career path and be safe. A medic.” He shook his head. “There’s no more dangerous job on the battlefield, and you proved it throwing yourself in to save your soldiers. I saw the commendation you turned down.” His eyes met hers, dry but sad. “I never wanted to lose you but, here we go. I almost did on home soil.”