Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Steph slid her arms from around his neck and stepped back, relief shuddering through her.
“Aren’t you supposed to say something back? Finish the pass phrase.”
“If you’re here, you know who I am.” She lowered the knife, her fingers like concrete around the hilt.
She couldn’t have given it up if she wanted to.
But five minutes ago, the prospect of the blade being pried from her cold dead hands was just fine.
Now? She might actually have a shot at getting out of here.
He turned to face her, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she walked to the wall by the door and peered out between the slats. “That a friend of yours?”
The guy was dressed not too dissimilarly to this one with his bulletproof vest and his boots, but the one outside had a shaved head and a wider frame. He faced off with the two men who’d shown up in a white van. Men who would’ve killed her as soon as they discovered her.
“He’s about to get himself shot.”
Her operator swung the door open and strode out, leaving her in the barn.
“Yeah, makes perfect sense. Invite yourself to that party.” Her hands started to shake. She heard the knife clatter to the floor, and she lifted her palms to look at them. Blood on her fingers. The world swam around her.
They were talking, but she couldn’t hear what they said without going out there. Couldn’t look through the gap in the slats of the wall without…
Not again.
She bent forward and tried to draw in long breaths to stave off the frantic sensation of panic she couldn’t control.
Tears filled her eyes. She squeezed them shut and tried to force the feeling away, but that never worked.
She had to ride the wave, and it had come again now that there was a prospect of getting out of here.
The first had been the sheer relief of being out of the house, the scent of charred flesh in her nostrils.
Now someone was here to rescue her—if they didn’t get themselves killed in the trying.
Almost there. Safety was so close she could practically taste it.
But knowing that and believing it were two different things.
She still had miles to go before she reached real safety.
Now wasn’t the time for relief that brought a panic attack in its wake.
Outside someone thudded on the ground.
A gunshot.
Boots pounded the dirt and gravel toward her. She tucked herself against the wall, trying to push the mental images out. Now she could add these two heroes to the mix, and their gruesome deaths. Because of her. This is why I work alone.
It was also why she had found herself in over her head, with no way out except one.
She touched the necklace hanging around her neck. The one she’d refused to give up. I’m never alone.
“Time to—” He quit talking and grabbed her arms. “You good to go?”
Steph lifted her gaze but couldn’t see his eyes in the shadows of the barn. “I’m good.”
No one would believe that, but he snagged her hand and they raced to the back of the barn. The other guy slammed the door shut and barred it from the inside.
Her hero dragged her, far too fast, to the other end of the room. She couldn’t keep up without stumbling and had to brush hair out of her face so she could see. Pain lanced through her temple, and other places she didn’t want to think about.
He let go of her hand to push boards out, and she heard wood splinter. Light spilled in from outside. He looked down. “You don’t have shoes.”
“I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He tugged on her hand. “You first.”
So they could shoot her as soon as she crawled out? That would be a better fate than what had been planned before she interrupted their best-laid plan for a fantastic explosion. Nailed it. Nearly took out the whole house, but the message had been communicated loud and clear.
Thanks, but no thanks.
I’m out.
Steph scrambled on all fours for a couple of feet, then tried to get up. Her rescuer grabbed her arm and hauled her upright. “Up the hill.”
She didn’t mean to groan aloud.
He said, “Dan?”
The other guy got under her arm, and the two of them hauled her up between them. Sure, it hurt her shoulders and the bumping wasn’t great, but her feet were off the ground and they were making far faster progress than she’d have managed.
A gunshot cracked behind them, but Steph was the only one who flinched. “I lost my knife.”
“You don’t need it.” Not-Dan angled to the right, and they were between trees. He slowed a little and dislodged her arm from his shoulders with a shrug. “Get her to the truck.”
Dan scooped her up in his arms.
“This is ridiculous.”
He raced up the hill. “I’ll get you a mirror. It won’t seem so.”
“Good to know I look awful.” She tried to look over his shoulder, but it was impossible.
He didn’t sound winded, and he never broke a sweat. Behind them, gunshots sounded like a conversation. A question, followed by an answer.
“Does he need backup?”
Dan only snorted.
“We all need help sometimes. That’s what you’re supposed to say!” She slapped his shoulder.
“The guys are gonna like you.”
Steph frowned. He slowed, stepping over a fence that he sat her on for a second before he lifted her down.
“Good to walk the rest of the way?”
“Yes.” She set off, ignoring the slices of pain in the soles of her feet. Or the tears that still threatened to slide down her cheeks. “My therapist is going to have a field day with this one.”
Dan didn’t seem to think that was funny.
Another guy jumped out of a truck and gave her a bow, then waved to the truck. “Ma’am, your chariot awaits.”
Dan said, “Nix will drive. I’ll ride in the back with you.”
The guy who bowed held out his hand for her to take. She clasped it, and he said, “I’m Ice. Nice to meet you. That’s—”
“Dan. I got that one.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And Nix? You all have three letter names?”
Ice shifted her hand so that it was around the inside of his elbow and led her to the passenger door. “The drive is long enough we can tell you the story.”
Steph pulled in a long breath that broke a couple of times. But she breathed free air and managed to exhale it back out. “I’d like that.”
She eased onto the seat, trying not to wince.
“Hospital?”
She eyed the injuries he had. “I’ll go if you do.”
His lips curled into a smile.
Nix yelled, “Ice!” as he hopped the fence.
“Just introducing myself.” Ice stepped back.
Nix jogged over. “Get in the back.” He slammed her door shut, and the two other men climbed in the back while he raced around the front end of the truck to get in the driver’s side.
Steph watched the fence until they pulled away.
No one followed.
She glanced at him then. “You took care of them?”
“Seems like you did that when you blew up the house.” He gripped the wheel, fingerless gloves on his hands. His tattoo flexed with the tension in his biceps. “But why stick around hiding? You’d have to figure more would show up to find out what happened.”
Steph smoothed her fingers to the knees of the too-big men’s jeans she had stolen. “I didn’t have time to formulate a route out before you came in.”
“You weren’t waiting for us?”
“I’d have been long gone if I had the chance.” If the panic attack hadn’t sent her to the barn to hide and kept her there a prisoner of her own nervous system. “So thanks for making it simple.”
She stared out the windshield but saw nothing.
Trees blurred past. Houses. People. His phone rang, and she closed her eyes, listening to the tone of his voice until she couldn’t make out the words.
Sometime later, she awoke.
The truck was parked on a switchback, tucked against the side of a cliff so close she couldn’t have opened her door. Night had descended, and a canopy of stars were visible overhead out the dirty windshield.
She twisted in the seat and saw them gathered at the back of the truck.
Her three—no, there were four now—rescuers. Looking at a tablet on the bed of the truck, all of them peering at the same thing. Too far away for her to see the screen.
Nix looked up and saw her watching him. He broke away from the others and came around to open the driver’s door. “Sorry, we had to take a detour.” He held out a bottle of water with the cap already off.
She took a few greedy sips. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been a change of plans. It’ll be a little longer before we get you on a plane back to safety.”
She lowered the bottle and glanced around. “Please tell me we’re not in Syria.”
“I’m not the guy who lies to you to spare your feelings.”
Great. “What happened?”
“Some friends of ours are in trouble.”
“And you weren’t there. You were rescuing me.”
A short nod was all he gave her to indicate she was right. He glanced aside. “Med kit!” Then back at her. “Show me the soles of your feet.”
Steph bent her knees and laid her legs along the bench seat.
He hissed out a breath. “I’ll give you something for the pain.”
“I don’t need meds. I just need a phone.”
He shook his head. “No can do right now. First priority is the mission.”