Chapter 10 #2
It was a lot.
He needed to lighten things up. Nudged her with his shoulder. “Since we’re waiting, can we fool around a little?”
Parker gasped then looked at his face, saw he was joking. She hauled back a fist and swung it forward, stopping an inch from his chest.
“Glad you stopped,” he said, relieved. “There isn’t a place that doesn’t hurt.”
“Fooling around would have hurt.”
“Worth it,” he answered and she smiled.
“You know,” she said as she put her head on his unwounded shoulder, “this is really scary, but sort of exciting, you know what I mean? If we make it out alive, it will be a really good story.”
“Yup. You’ll have to censor out the nukes, though, you know.”
Parker sighed. “I imagined. The nukes give it extra special spice. But being buried during an earthquake in the remains of a Roman villa is still a great story. An exciting one. Maybe I missed my calling. Maybe I should have become a Navy SEAL.”
“Maybe.” Nick smiled at the thought. “But we get dirty a lot. Sometimes can’t shower for weeks. Don’t sleep in pretty flowered sheets and eat real crap. Sometimes have to go without sleep for days. Wear the same clothes for weeks. Sleep on rocks.”
She shuddered. “I thought it was all adrenaline-inducing antics and dashing adventures. Parachuting out of planes and stuff.”
He looked down at her. From this angle her face was super long eyelashes and sharp cheekbones. “Come to the dark side. We have cookies.”
They laughed.
Oh man, he was so done. He bent and caught her mouth with his. A long, lush kiss, guaranteed to make him forget his aches and pains. Her mouth tasted delightful. Their tongues touched and it was like an electric wire pinged to life between his mouth and his groin.
He leaned lower, pressing against her, feeling excited and happy at the same time. Their situation was dire but not that dire. People were coming. If the earth could hold off on another quake for just another hour…
Nick’s head lifted.
“What?” Parker murmured. Her eyes were still closed, mouth a little puffy from his.
“Someone’s coming,” Nick said, suddenly snapping back into reality.
“What?” Then Parker cocked her head. She heard it too. Engines, revving.
This was not good news. “Too early for the cavalry.” He checked his satphone. “No messages. That’s not the military from the Sixth Fleet.”
Someone was coming for the nukes.
Nick stood up fast. One-handed, he stacked two crates right under the crack in the overhead ceiling. When Parker saw what he was doing she stood up and helped.
Nick moved quickly among the boxes and crates.
There was a box that was regular gear, not arms, and he quickly found what he was looking for.
He pulled out a pair of binoculars. Primitive by today’s standards, just 7x50, but it had been state of the art in the 50s.
Then he went to a crate and pulled out an M1 Garand, the old workhorse of NATO.
It still had gun oil. He checked the action, and everything seemed to be in working order.
There were ten boxes of 7.62 x 51 mm ammo.
A thousand rounds. Enough to do damage. He picked out a Beretta BM 49 and placed it next to the M1 Garand.
Parker looked at him, eyes huge.
Nick positioned a big crate right under the opening then clambered up, very slowly and very painfully. He pointed to a smaller crate and Parker lifted it up to him. He climbed that one, too, even more painfully. His wound began bleeding again.
He could stick his head out of the opening. He didn’t know if he could pull himself further up, whether his arm could take the strain. Probably not.
Nick put his hand down. “Can you hand me the binocs please?”
She held them up to him and he stuck his head up and glassed the area.
Oh fuck.
Three SUVs in a convoy, about a klick away, on the unpaved access road, a plume of dust following them. Those SUVs were exactly like his, like the ones the rental guy told him were used by the local mafia, the Camorra.
Mobsters had arrived for the nukes.
He texted Jacob. Three SUVs coming, not military. Probably Camorra.
Fuck. They either wanted the nukes for themselves or to sell to terrorists. Big big market.
Over his dead body.
Nick jumped down from the crates and it cost him. He didn’t wince but she could tell he was hurting. Whatever he saw up there had galvanized him.
“What?” Parker asked. His face was impassive, but something was wrong.
“The people coming aren’t the good guys. So until the cavalry arrives, we are the first line of defense.”
The short hairs on her arms stood up. They were the first line of defense? A wounded man and her? She swallowed her dismay. She understood very well that they needed to defend those nuclear weapons, however primitive they were.
But still.
“Okay.” Parker was proud to note that her voice was steady, though everything inside her quaked. “What do we do?”
Nick pointed to the back of the cavernous room. “You go hunker down behind the last cases. They are all gear of no use to anyone. Whoever’s coming wants the nukes. If anything happens to me, stay hidden until our guys come. I’ll text Jacob to tell them to look for you.”
She was frightened to death, and angry, at the same time. “If the time comes when I have to hide, because something happens to you, God forbid, I’ll hide. Or if there is a firefight. I don’t know how to use a gun or fight. But until then, I’m helping you. I thought you understood that.”
Nick winced. Though the face she’d seen on him so far was affable businessman and, last night, turned-on alpha male, this was different. She saw the soldier in him—brave and determined, even though he was wounded. Ready to die. She also saw, clearly, his fear for her.
He was right. She was scared, too, but she simply couldn’t cower, not when she felt she could help him.
If they were overpowered, she’d try to hide because she had no tools at all of self-defense.
But she’d be worse off hunkering down somewhere while he defended them than trying to help. That was clear.
But he didn’t want that. He wanted her safe. Which was a nice thought, but it wasn’t a safe situation. Safe wasn’t possible.
He was bent over his satphone, texting.
“The military is twenty minutes out, and Dylan has just landed at Capodichino Airport, he should be here in about half an hour. Maybe less.”
“So, basically, we just have to resist for half an hour.”
He just looked at her, grim-faced.
“I’m not minimizing the situation,” she protested. “But—” she waved an arm around the huge warehouse. “Old or not, we’re surrounded by weaponry. I can’t shoot but I can, I don’t know—hand you weapons? Do something to help you?”
His face suddenly melted. “Honey. Come here.”
She walked into his arms and felt instantly safe.
They weren’t safe, not at all. Three SUVs were on the way.
Technically that could mean twenty-one men, probably armed.
Nick was one man. It was insane to feel safe just by holding him and having him hold her, but there it was. Humans were irrational, she knew that.
She hugged him more tightly, digging her face into his chest. Tears were very close to the surface. Before they could fall, she pulled away and made her voice sound matter of fact.
“Okay, tell me what to do.”
He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “When I tell you to hide, you hide. You have to promise me that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, I promise. I’m not crazy. Where do I hide?”
“I told you. Against the far wall, past the flak jackets and gas masks. There’s a big loose tarp. Hunker down and pull it over yourself.”
She gave a sharp nod. “Gotcha. Past the flak jackets and gas masks. Tarp.”
Usually her directions to friends were— Two blocks down from Gucci and next door to Armani. Past the gas masks and flak jackets was new.
He wasn’t satisfied, a big scowl on his face. “Promise.”
She crossed her heart. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you a scout?”
“Not a chance. Were you?”
“Oh yeah. Made Eagle Scout.”
She nodded, though she didn’t have the faintest idea what that meant.
Nick gave a sharp nod then exploded into action.
Ten rifles were lined up in a neat row, bullets having been fed into an internal part of the rifle.
His movements were so fast she could hardly keep up.
Then he lined up ten pistols fully loaded.
He’d said they were Berettas, which she knew was an Italian firm. They looked pretty stylish.
“Here.” To her surprise, he held one out to her, butt first. Parker resisted the childish impulse to put her hands behind her back. She’d never touched a gun in her life.
She took it gingerly.
“Careful,” he said. “It’s loaded.”
Parker nearly jumped but contained herself. This was a new world, but she was living in it and had to adapt. Rome fell because it couldn’t adapt. She had no intention of falling.
Nick picked up a gun identical to the one she was holding. “Hold it like this.”
He showed her his hold, though his hand was so big it almost completely covered the important bits. Nonetheless, the gun was designed for human hands, and she had one of those.
She picked it up and it somehow…fit.
“Excellent,” Nick said. “Now take the safety off.”
He pointed out a little lever up top which she thumbed up and a little red dot appeared. “Red for dead,” he said. “Now it’s ready to shoot.”
He held his gun up to eye level, aiming at the wall. He had a two-handed grip, left over right. “There’s a sight at the end of the barrel. Put what you’re shooting at in the sight.”
Parker nodded yes, lifting her gun, trying to emulate his two-handed grip.
He moved her gun to the left with a finger, away from him.
“Make sure you don’t shoot me.”
“No, no!” She shook her head frantically.
“I’m going to go back up, see what position they are in.”
Nick found a small tarp and held it in his hand.