Hero of My Heart (The McRae Series, Book 5 - Will)

by Teresa Hill

  "That's your idea of taking it easy?"

  He looked like he didn't understand the question. "Paperwork and being here in case something happens? It's not really work. Plus, I'm no stranger to dealing with people who've been traumatized. I think I can handle whatever comes up."

  "I'm sure you can." There she was, practically flirting with him, her hero, her very own Superman.

  Life seemed very good in this moment.

  It had been so long since it had.

  He started to say something else, but his phone beeped. He pulled it out and looked at it, then looked at the front door.

  In an instant, Amanda was scared all over again. "Trouble?"

  "No. I just need to go outside for a few minutes."

  "Oh. Okay." Was he kicking her out? She wasn't sure, so she put down her coffee, picked up her purse and followed him, out the front door and to the porch. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

  "It's just the bus. The kids are getting out of school."

  And someone had to make sure they got safely inside, because they obviously hadn't been safe in their own homes. God, that hurt. That so many kids had lives full of danger and fear. The world seemed like such a scary place now.

  "Amanda, don't think about it," he said again. He might do the guy-thing and panic at the sight of a few tears, but he obviously watched carefully and picked up on a lot.

  "I'm trying not to," she said.

  "Or if you do, think about all those kids in your classroom who got out safely that day. That's what matters."

  * * *

  Buhkai, Africa

  January 16th

  Will hoped that by the time he got to the capitol, the ambassador's daughter would have turned up somewhere, that she hadn't been at school when the attack started or had managed to escape.

  No such luck.

  As he circled the crowd around the school—angry that violence had again erupted in their city and particularly that militants had taken school children hostage—he heard again and again how the brave young American teacher had stayed behind, stalling the gunmen to give her kindergarten students time to escape.

  The crowd was stunned that an American—especially a woman—would care so much about the children of Buhkai that she would sacrifice herself to save them.

  Will got sick just thinking about her still being inside.

  He wondered if she was still alive. It had been nearly four hours, after all, since the attack began. So much could happen in four hours.

  He finally made contact with the Buhkai soldiers he was training—who were, as he feared, in charge, if anyone could be said to be in charge of the volatile situation. He'd had so little time with them, only a few weeks. No way they were ready for this. Still, for the first time, they actually looked happy to see Will.

  He put them to work setting a perimeter. The crowd was way too close to the school and growing larger all the time. He didn't want the crowd to charge in with no plan at all. He had to fight his own impatience to do just that. He was no good to her if he got himself killed.

  After he made a complete circle of the building, picking up all he could from that primary survey, he called Mace.

  "Okay, talk to me," Will said.

  They started with the layout of the school. Will looked at the building in front of him while Mace laid out the inside, so Will could get an image in his head of where everything was.

  They had good intel. Mace had the school's layout on the screen in front of him, from the school's own website, confirmed by Ambassador Warren's friend whose grandson attended the school. It was the same family Amanda Warren had been living with in Buhkai.

  Will asked questions until he knew every entrance and exit, every large interior space where the hostages might be held, possible vantage points to observe what was going on and pin down his path to Amanda Warren's classroom.

  He was sure he could get inside. Could he do it undetected and get back out? That was the question. One of them, at least.

  He was still just one guy. He had called his CIA contact, but all hell was breaking loose in the country right now. There was real concern about all American civilians on the ground, the largest concentration being at or near the U.S. Embassy. The few CIA security contractors in the city were getting all the Americans they could safely behind the Embassy walls, to keep more from becoming hostages or dying.

  Will was pretty sure no one was coming to help him anytime soon.

  He wished like hell he had a drone overhead with heat sensors to tell him where everyone was inside the school and when anyone moved. No such luck yet. No one had told him so, but he was sure one was coming. The only question was when.

  Too late for Amanda Warren, he worried.

  The U.S. was still discussing what to do, mostly about the Embassy, Mace reported.

  "Have the militants inside the school said what they want?" Will asked.

  "Yeah. You'll love this. They had a list of kids they were especially interested in grabbing. Government officials' kids. They got three of them. The new President's son, and the sons of two of his closest advisors, plus one more. They plan to hold the kids hostage until a list of government leaders leave the country. This is a coup attempt, using school children as leverage."

  "Shit," Will said.

  "One of the kids they wanted was in the ambassador's daughter's classroom. They didn't get him. He told his grandfather she shoved them out a ground-floor window and told Naaji, the grandson, which way to go to lead them out, told them to run while she stayed behind. The grandson claims every kid in her classroom got out."

  "Jesus," Will muttered.

  "Yeah," Mace said.

  The woman was either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Maybe both.

  A real hero, either way.

  Putting the safety of those kids first, knowing what to do, being able to think and act under that kind of pressure? It was a skill some people could develop, but it usually took practice. SEAL teams did it, put people under that kind of pressure, with live ammo going off around them, pushing them to the limits of their physical and mental abilities, and then expected them to be able to think, to act.

  This woman had just done it when it really mattered, with none of that training. She'd saved a whole classroom of little children. No way Will was leaving a woman like that in the hands of the Buhkai militants.

  "Best count we have says five adults, four children still inside. We think five gunmen, maybe six."

  Too many hostages for that many gunmen to keep an eye on, plus defend their position. Added to that, too few troops outside to control an angry, unwieldy crowd. This was a clusterfuck waiting to happen.

  "Okay," Will said, "you have a photo of the ambassador's daughter for me?"

  "Yeah. Sending it now." Mace sounded less than happy.

  "What's wrong with her?"

  "You'll see."

  Will clicked on the photo attached to the text message, and he did, indeed, see.

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with her.

  Except that she looked just about perfect, especially if a man went for the sunny, blonde, girl-next-door-pretty type. Which Will really did.

  Amanda Warren even had a light sprinkling of freckles across her face. Some women might be horrified and do everything they could to cover them up. Not her. Her face was as bare and perfect as could be.

  Big, blue-green eyes sparkling with laughter, her hair loose and hanging casually down her back, blowing in the wind, she looked happy and relaxed.

  And young.

  Damn, she looked young. And perfect.

  "How old?" Will asked.

  "Twenty-six."

  She didn't look it. "How old is the photograph?"

  "From last summer, on the beach in Spain, right after her father retired. He said he made her dye her hair brown when she decided to teach in the Middle East, so she wouldn't stand out so much."

  "He'd have to put a bag over her head to keep her from standing out anywhe
re," Will said.

  "Not just her head. From what I can see, all of her is perfect," Mace said.

  Will thought, again, What the hell was she doing here?

  He got mad just thinking about it.

  Although the kids in her classroom were certainly glad she'd been there. And their parents and everyone who knew them.

  Honey, what have you gotten yourself into? He stared at her photo. And how are we going to get you out?

  "You should know, people up the chain are starting to call trying to get in touch with you," Mace said.

  Will's phone was ringing here, too, off and on, and he was ignoring all calls from anybody but Mace and Sam.

  It was likely all anybody else wanted at this point was to know where he was and what he could tell them about conditions on the ground, whether he could get to Ballah and help round up embassy personnel. But Will wasn't taking any chances on hearing things he didn't want to hear from the higher-ups. He wasn't abandoning Amanda Warren.

  "What are you telling people?" Will asked.

  "That last we heard, you were well outside the city and in an area where communications are spotty at best."

  Which had the advantage of being true. Not the whole story, but true.

  "Thanks, buddy."

  "Yeah. Will, you're not going in there by yourself, right?"

  "I'm going to look around in there. That's it. That's all I know right now."

  "You're there with the CIA, right? They've got more guys like you there, right? And you're going to call them and get some of them to help you. Tell me that."

  "I'm calling everybody I can," Will said, because he had. They just weren't coming.

  "Don't you fucking try to be a hero," Mace said.

  Will said nothing.

  "Shit, one way or another, you're going in there, aren't you?"

  Will had known that long before he ever saw her photo. But if he hadn't, the photo would have done it. Not because she was beautiful, but because she looked so damned innocent and young.

  No way he was going to leave a woman like her in a mess like this.

  "She made sure a whole classroom full of five-year-olds made it out of that school safely today," Will said. "The least I can do is go in there and try to get her out."

  The woman deserved an army to help her, as far as he was concerned, or at least a whole SEAL team. Unfortunately, she wasn't going to get one. With the mood of the crowd, Will thought, this whole thing would be over long before they could get a team into the country.

  So, yeah, one way or another, Will was going in there.

  He was going to do his damnedest to get Amanda and everybody else out alive.

  Chapter 5

  Baxter, Ohio

  Seven weeks later

  "I heard about what you did," Will said. "Getting those kids out, staying behind and buying them time to get away. You want to talk about bravery? About being a hero? That's it."

  "No. It wasn't. I was so scared. I know that much—"

  "Doesn't matter. Hell, we all get scared. What matters is what we do in spite of it. You saved those kids, so believe me when I say it was a privilege to get you out of that school and out of the country."

  Amanda could tell he meant it.

  This big, strong, tough man was impressed with her. That felt amazing.

  "I..." She sniffled, felt more frustrating tears building.

  "Ahh, dammit. I'm going to need to stock boxes of tissues on the porch, too," he said, smiling down at her.

  "Yes. I guess you are."

  "If you think of anything about Buhkai, think about those kids," he said. "You did something there. Something important. Something that mattered. Those kids are going to remember you for the rest of their lives, and the parents think you're right up there with God. Think about that and try to let the rest go. Get on with your life. Be happy, Amanda. You deserve that."

  The bus came rumbling down the street, stopping at the end of the block and letting a bunch of kids out. She watched Will watch them in that way he had of taking in everything around him at once. She wondered if those kids and their mothers had any idea how lucky they were to have him watching over them.

  She watched the kids, too, three boys, two girls, elementary-aged. They'd be safe here. Will would make sure of it. She was so glad he was here for them.

  He got a couple of fist-bumps from the boys and shy smiles from the girls. He ruffled a few heads of hair as the kids filed by and told them he'd be inside in a minute.

  Which meant Amanda was almost out of time. She had to make her case for him to help her, before he sent her on her way. "I'm trying to deal with everything," she said. "But not knowing... Everyone says I should let it be, that there's nothing in those memories except things that will hurt me. I've tried that. It's not working."

  "It hasn't been that long," he said.

  "I know. It just feels like—"

  "Forever," he said. "It'll feel like that for a while. I've seen a lot of people go through different kinds of trauma. You look good, Amanda. You sound good, considering. You sound strong and determined and like anybody who's trying to make sense of something that just doesn't make any sense."

  "You think so? Because I don't feel strong. I feel like a complete mess."

  "Anybody would. I swear."

  "You've done so much already, I hate to ask, but will you help me now?"

  "Of course. What's wrong?" He went from looking uncomfortable to a man as sure and strong as could be. As if he could handle any problem she might have, and, despite saving her life once already, was happy to do more.

  "I need to know what happened. People have told me things, just the bare bones of it, but you were there. You must know so much that I don't. Please, will you tell me?"

  He gave her a look like he had when she'd started to cry, a look that said, Please, don't make me do this. Please.

  So, there were things she didn't know?

  Judging by his reaction, really hard things.

  Amanda felt sick to her stomach.

  "There is more," she said, trying to take that in and just not able to. "I was held hostage at gunpoint and raped in a foreign country. What could be worse than that?"

  "I didn't say that," he insisted. "I couldn't. I don't know what you know."

  "And I don't know what you know. Does that seem fair to you? It is my life, after all."

  "You're right. It is. Your life." He looked so frustrated, so concerned. "I just don't see how all the details would do anything but make it worse for you, and, I don't want to do that."

  "Shouldn't that be my choice to make?"

  He took a breath and blew it out, long and slow, staring at her and shaking his head, not ready to argue that point but clearly still hating what she'd asked him to do.

  "Right now, I remember all the fear. I feel it, but I don't remember what caused it, and it makes the whole thing seem even scarier to me. There are things I'm afraid of that I don't understand, things I want to do that don't make any sense. I'm just trying to make sense of it, Will."

  "Things you want to do? Like what?"

  "Like corners. I find myself, when I walk into a room, studying the corners, picking one and edging toward it. I want to go sit in a corner." She actually did that in her bedroom sometimes. She got on the floor and pressed her back against the two walls and hid in the corner. How humiliating was that? "For some reason, I think I'll feel safer there. What in the world is that about?"

  He stared up at the sky and then back at her. "When I first saw you inside the school, you were sitting in the corner."

  "Wait. You saw me inside the school?"

  "Yes."

  "I..." Okay, that was a surprise. And then she thought... Oh, God. She was right back up at level ten on her own personal panic scale, as bad as it got without her being on the floor sobbing. "You didn't see the rape, did you?"

  "No. I wouldn't... Shit, I was going to say I wouldn't have watched that and not tried to stop it, but there wer
e kids in there, Amanda."

  "I know."

  "And as much as I'd have wanted to stop it, I would have weighed the presence of the kids against... you being hurt, and... honestly, I don't know if I would have had the discipline to do what needed to be done. If it meant endangering the kids, maybe getting one of them shot, and I thought by waiting, working out some kind of plan, I could hope to get you and those kids out of there, I'm sorry. I would have waited, if I could have made myself do that."

  "No. I understand. The kids all survived. That's what matters."

  "It is," he agreed. "As lousy as the rest of it seems, those kids making it out is definitely a victory. You have to hang onto that."

  * * *

  Buhkai, Africa

  January 16th

  Will was ready to slip inside the school.

  He wished it was dark, so it would be harder for anyone to spot him, but that was hours away, and he wasn't willing to wait.

  He told himself he wasn't trying to be a hero. He was just sneaking inside to have a look around. Somebody had to, and he was the most logical choice to do it. They had to know what was going on inside in order to make a plan of attack. Without a plan, they were screwed.

  He did have some supplies he'd brought to use in training. Body armor, all the firepower one man could use, some flash-bang grenades, a little bit of explosives, older-generation night-vision goggles that might come in handy.

  He left a young Buhkai soldier in charge, the one Will trusted the most. He told the soldier to hold back the crowd at all costs and not do anything else until Will got back outside.

  He also left the man a phone number to call if Will didn't make it back out. Not Sam's number. He wouldn't do that to Sam. Not Mace, either. The number was for his CO. He'd do the notifications, hopefully after he found someone else to rescue the hostages from the school. Assuming Will hadn't blown their chances of survival, as well.