Chapter 17 #2
For a moment, Smiley wished they were in the jungle.
At least then he could easily find Bree water, get her some food, and they would know who their enemies were.
Here, the woman on the corner could be calling the number on the flier as he walked by, or the kids kicking a ball back and forth could blow their cover by recognizing Bree and pointing her out to their parents.
Or the men prowling the streets with their rifles could all be Castillo’s henchmen.
The situation was dire, and all Smiley wanted to do was get to his team and get the hell out of there.
Rex had promised that he’d call in some favors and end Castillo’s operation once and for all, so leaving without killing the man who’d made his and Bree’s life a living hell wouldn’t be an issue.
The outrage and fury coming from the Mountain Mercenaries leader was loud and clear when they’d spoken on the phone.
Smiley trusted him to be true to his word.
Determination rose hard and fast. Bree had been through enough.
No one was going to take her from him. No damn way.
He hadn’t learned all he had as a SEAL to fail the most important person in his life.
And while he would’ve preferred having his team at his back, he could protect Bree on his own.
Especially the way he was feeling right this moment. Pissed way the hell off.
Thankfully, Smiley had some local currency on him; Kevlar insisted on everyone carrying a few bills on every single mission. They’d learned through their job that sometimes having a buck or two could mean the difference between living and dying.
He used the money to purchase some bottled water and food, but Smiley had no qualms about stealing the other things he needed.
He found some tattered shoes that would be better than nothing.
He also pulled a shirt and a pair of pants right off a clothesline hanging behind a three-story building.
Then he nabbed a bag to hold all of the things he’d accumulated.
He was on his way back to Bree when he turned a corner and came to an immediate halt.
There were about a dozen people standing around a shop window, watching something on a television.
Cautious, Smiley walked closer…and saw images of tanks in the streets and masked men standing in a TV studio, holding the news anchors hostage.
He didn’t understand what they were saying, but he didn’t need words to know that getting himself and Bree out of the country just became a hell of a lot harder. Not to mention his entire team.
Ecuador had been politically unstable before they’d arrived, but it seemed as if it was on the verge of a full-out conflict now.
Just as he had the thought, a loud explosion sounded a few streets over. The people around him panicked and ran away from the noise.
Smiley ran toward it—because it came from the direction of the abandoned building where he’d stashed Bree.
His heart in his throat, Smiley ignored the civilians running in the streets, his only concern for his woman.
Shots began to ring out as the coup expanded to the streets.
This was no longer a capital city issue.
At the moment, Smiley wasn’t sure who was on the side of “right,” if there even was such a thing.
Regretting leaving Bree, even if it had been necessary to get what she needed quickly, Smiley made his way back to the alley.
To his alarm, when he turned the final corner, there were two armed militants no more than a couple yards away, standing between him and Bree’s hiding place.
They saw him immediately, of course. But it didn’t matter, because Smiley wasn’t leaving. Not without Bree.
They said something to him in Spanish, and guessing what they wanted, Smiley lifted both his hands, trying to show that he was unarmed.
The pistol in the holster at his back felt heavy and way too obvious, but he did his best not to act rashly.
He didn’t know what the men were looking for, but maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this without any violence.
Almost as soon as he had the thought, one of the men walked toward him and swung the rifle right at Smiley’s face.
So much for no violence.
The last few days had been some of the most stressful of Smiley’s life, and he was done. D.O.N.E.
Easily grabbing the rifle, he tore it out of the man’s grip and backhanded him with his own weapon, making him drop like a stone.
Smiley was aiming the rifle at the other man’s head before his friend had even hit the ground, ignoring the fact that he had a weapon pointed at him too.
“Don’t do it, man,” he muttered, as he and the militant had a stare-down. All it would take was one wrong move and Bree would be on her own again. Something Smiley wasn’t willing to risk.
The man gestured to the bag of supplies Smiley had draped around his chest.
He shook his head. In any other situation, he would’ve handed over the water, food, and clothes in a heartbeat. But Bree needed what he’d managed to acquire. He wasn’t giving it up.
He could practically hear Kevlar’s voice in his head, telling him to wait. To go easy. But Smiley was done with that shit. Nothing had gone right, and he and Bree should be at the airport right that moment, getting ready to fly back to California.
Instead, the country was quickly falling into chaos, she was hurt, they were out of communication with his team and lost in the worst part of the city. Smiley was beyond pissed, and no punk was going to get the better of him. No way.
They were at an impasse. Neither willing to back down.
Smiley was sorting through his options in his head.
Shooting this man was at the bottom of those options, he really didn’t want to kill him—for one, it would bring too much attention to the alley.
Attention he didn’t need. Not with those posters of Bree tacked up in the area, with that exorbitant bounty on her head.
Suddenly, a loud crashing noise echoed through the alley—from Bree’s building—and the militant jerked his head instinctively toward the sound, giving Smiley the opportunity he needed.
Rushing forward, he was already swinging the butt of the rifle toward the man’s head when he turned back around.
It hit him square in the face, and just like his friend, he fell to the ground bonelessly.
Panting, Smiley ran toward the opening in the dilapidated building. He was making more noise than a hippo in heat but didn’t check his movements. Throwing a few pieces of debris aside that he’d strategically placed across the opening when he’d left, Smiley could feel his panic to reach Bree rising.
When he finally entered the room, relief made his knees weak.
She was there, looking much as she had when he’d left. Except instead of sitting on the floor, trying valiantly to keep her eyes open, she was standing behind a three-foot pile of bricks with a four-by-four in her hands. Holding it like a baseball bat, on guard and ready to swing.
Smiley had never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life.
He was physically shaking as he stepped over the wood, rocks, and bricks on the ground to get to her.
She moved at the same time, coming around the new pile of debris that he had a feeling she’d deliberately knocked over to cause a distraction.
He didn’t drop the rifle in his hand, and she didn’t let go of the piece of wood.
They collided and held each other with one arm tightly.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Me? Yes. Are you?” he countered.
“Of course. I heard those guys rooting around out there and almost panicked. But they weren’t coming in here yet. So I just stayed quiet, hoping they’d leave. Then you showed up. I nearly had a heart attack when they pointed their guns at you.”
Smiley didn’t want to let her go. Time and again, she was proving how tough she was. He was proud to be by her side. But they could no longer stay here. The men he’d knocked out would regain consciousness soon enough, and they needed to be gone when that happened.
He had no time to waste, but Smiley couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head and kissing Bree hard and fast on the lips. “I love you. So damn much,” he told her.
The smile he loved spread across her lips. “I love you too,” she responded.
It took all the strength he had to let go of her and focus on the bag he’d draped across his body. He pulled out the shirt and pants and held them up. “I have no idea if they’ll fit.”
The pleasure in her eyes hit Smiley hard.
She was so excited to get a ripped, stained shirt and pair of pants.
Anger rose within him once more. He wanted to give her the world, but if all he could manage was some fabric to cover her body and make her feel less vulnerable, he’d take it at the moment.
Bree pulled her arms inside his shirt and shimmied her hips, obviously removing the slip she’d been forced to wear.
For a moment, she was naked beneath his T-shirt, and Smiley hated that for her.
Hated even more to think about what could’ve happened.
What Castillo had planned for her. It was a struggle to contain his fury.
As Bree braced herself on his shoulder to put one foot through one of the legs of the pants, Smiley reached for the shoes he’d found.
The pants were a little short and loose, but Bree gave him a huge smile as she tied the drawstring around her waist. “They’re perfect!”
They weren’t. Not even close, but the pleasure she felt in being covered was easy to see and hear in her voice.
She turned her back and took off the T-shirt he’d given her, then quickly pulled the stolen long-sleeve shirt over her head. When she turned back around, Smiley picked up one of her feet and held his breath as he helped her don one of the shoes he’d found.