ELITE Rescue (Guardian ELITE #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

“He’s coming around.”

Jacin Torres had known pain, but he’d obviously moved beyond the point where it registered in his brain. He felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Am I dead?

His mind was so screwed up. The voice sounded like a woman, yet there had been two men who had taken turns beating the shit out of him. Men he’d known for more than a year. He’d worked beside them as a lieutenant in Turi Solis’s cartel…until he’d made the biggest mistake of his career.

Jealousy, as much as fear for her life, had driven him to her that night.

They had followed him.

His whole body bounced inches into the air before landing hard on the thin mattress.

Pain shot from his ass to the back of his skull. Yes. He was definitely still alive.

Had they finally finished the grueling torture session and shot him?

Jacin gasped, but he couldn’t force enough air into his lungs. He felt like he was back in BUD/S, trying to qualify as a SEAL and nearly drowning in the pool.

Don’t panic , he instructed himself. You can handle this. You know what to do.

SEAL training had taught him well. He reached to clear the mouthpiece of his scuba gear, but it didn’t feel right. His hand slid over the device as though it were smooth and not attached to a tank. Was he wearing a rebreather?

Everything was so confusing.

And what the hell was that incessant beeping? Were they testing a new warning system?

A black curtain covered the edges of his brain, forcing him into unconsciousness. He needed oxygen. Now .

Jacin tried desperately to suck in air, but a knife stabbed into his back once again, just above the kidney.

“We’re losing him.”

“Hang in there, Jacin. Don’t you dare leave me now.” The warm hand of his angel slipped into his and squeezed.

Palm to palm, heat traveled through his body as the darkness closed on hot memories of the two of them, together, in her bed.

The next time Jacin surfaced, he cracked his eyes so as not to alert his captors he was conscious once again. He immediately slammed them shut. The room was too bright. They must’ve moved him from the cellar where they kept him a prisoner for nearly a week.

Slowly, he tried to fill his lungs to help shake off the drowsiness. No pain this time.

His eyelids felt as though they were weighed down. When he tried to rub them, he discovered he was still tied to some immovable object. He yanked as hard as he could to no avail. At least the new bindings didn’t cut into his oversensitive wrists.

For a fleeting moment, Jacin wondered if Solis had a new torment in mind for him.

“Jacin? Are you awake?” his angel asked in her sweet, melodic voice.

Thank God she was with him.

No! Solis’s lieutenants would be back soon and find her there. They would torture her, too. They knew she was not who she claimed to be. That’s how they’d discovered he was a spy. He needed to protect her.

“Run.” He tried to scream the word, but his voice came out as a croaked whisper. He swallowed what little moisture he could gather in his mouth. Stronger, he managed to open his eyes a fraction.

Several seconds passed before he could focus on the most beautiful woman in his world. Flowing black hair matched dark eyes that seemed intensified by her light caramel face. She’d come for him, to save him, but she was the one he had to protect.

Gathering every ounce of energy he could muster, he warned, “Get out of here. Now.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” She patted his hand. “I’m going to go get the nurse.”

She was going to get…what? Help? In spite of everything, he chuckled. She would find no help for him in the home of Turi Solis.

She walked away. The natural swing of her hips and movement of her fine ass was the last thing he saw as he went under once again.

At the sound of voices, Jacin’s mind stirred. He was feeling oddly refreshed, as though he’d had a good hard eight hours of sleep.

“You’ve already started to bring him out of the coma?” A deep male voice posed the question.

Coma? Had he hit his head? Then Jacin remembered the beatings he’d taken for days. Men he’d once called friends had used his head as a punching bag. He figured he had a concussion, but had they pounded him so badly he’d fallen into a coma? That would explain a lot. Given the antiseptic smell and the incessant beeping and buzzing, Jacin concluded he was in a hospital.

But where? He could only hope it was in the United States and he was finally free of the drug cartels and Colombia. He raked through every memory he could stir trying to remember how he got out of that disgusting basement in hell to here—wherever here was—but he continued to come up blank.

“Yes. We’re going to bring him out of this slowly,” a second male voice announced.

“Is his wife here yet?” the first man asked.

Wife? He didn’t have a wife. Maybe there was someone else in the room and they were working on him.

“No, but she should be shortly.” The baritone voice continued, “Are the interns on their way?”

“They’re waiting for you to give us the go-ahead. By the way, I’ve brought your neurological residents as well,” the second man noted.

“That’s fine. Get them in here. He’s responding well to the medication.”

Jacin seemed to be more and more aware of his surroundings every second. He’d always been hypervigilant; he had to be as a spy undercover in one of the most dangerous cartels in the world.

Louder, and perhaps even jovial, the deep voice called, “Come on in. All the way around the bed. Keep moving.”

“Dr. Tobias, on behalf of all the new interns, we just want to thank you for allowing us to experience this. It’s a great honor to watch the chief of neurology for the entire Army in action.”

Kiss ass. There’s one in every crowd.

“It’s my pleasure to be here. Darnall Army Medical Center sees almost as many wounded and sick soldiers evacuated from the wars as we do at Walter Reed. This is only the second time I’ve had the opportunity to work in the new hospital. If everyone is in, let’s get started.” In a professorial tone, he continued, “Mr. Torres came to us ten days ago with a traumatic brain injury and a collapsed lung due to one of his four broken ribs. He had multiple bruises and abrasions, most significantly the ones around his wrists, ankles, and neck. Although I cannot tell you how Mr. Torres got in this condition, as much of it is classified or unknown until he recovers and gives his official statement—which will still, no doubt, be classified above my pay grade and most certainly yours—I can tell you he’d been captured and tortured. As future physicians for the U.S. military, unfortunately you may see these conditions again.”

Jacin was more thankful for the update than the soon-to-be doctors in the room. Since they were speaking English, he assumed he was somewhere in the good old U.S.A. Although he hadn’t recognized the name of the hospital he was in, he knew he wasn’t in Walter Reed and that meant he wasn’t in Washington, D.C. He wanted to kiss the ground and throw away his passport. There had been too many times he’d almost given up hope of ever returning home.

His doctor continued, “We placed Mr. Torres in a chemically induced coma so his body, and especially the brain, could heal. He had significant brain swelling, which we were able to reduce pharmacologically rather than surgically, our preference whenever possible. Mr. Torres’s body has been put under enough stress without the invasion of surgery.”

Mumbles around the room confirmed agreement.

“Well, then, let’s give Mr. Torres a little more neostigmine and see how he does.”

Jacin wasn’t sure how he could be refreshed and still be sleepy. His body seemed to be having that mental debate he often had five minutes before he knew his alarm would go off. Should he give in and allow himself to return to sleep for a few precious minutes or wake up and face the day, which would be five minutes longer than usual? He succumbed to sleep.

“Excuse me.”

At the sound of her voice, he awakened a little more and sighed with relief. She was there.

“I’m sorry, I need to get through.”

Shuffling of feet was the only indication Jacin had of her progress.

“Dr. Tobias, I apologize, I was on a conference call with Washington.”

Jacin silently chuckled. Knowing Melina, she could have been talking to the director of the CIA as easily as she could have been speaking with one of her agents still on the ground in Colombia or her brother stationed somewhere in Texas. She lied so easily and convincingly.

Not for the first time, he wondered if her words spoken softly in bed were also lies. When they were together, completely alone and sure no one was watching, his words had come from the heart.

“Just in time, Mrs. Torres,” Dr. Tobias greeted. “In the next few minutes, you are going to play an important role for us.” He raised his voice and spoke to everyone in the room—well, everyone except Jacin. “During your careers as military physicians, you’re probably going to have to bring a soldier awake. I can tell you from experience the procedure is often dangerous, especially with a TBI. Unconscious, the brain does not calculate passing time so when awakened, the soldier may believe he is still in the situation that put him in hospital. It is not unusual for them to come awake fighting. Let me assure you, we have trained these men and women well. They can kill using only their hands and before their brains have time to realize their current situation, you could already be dead.”

Jacin felt his hand lift and the restraint around his wrist tighten. His muscles contracted in a twitch at the brief pain. A memory of rough nylon rope attached to chains affixed to a block wall jolted to the front of his mind. A mental photograph of his personal torture chamber came into clear view. Why couldn’t it have been a picture of Melina lying naked on the pastel yellow sheets in her bedroom, her nearly black hair fanned out on the pillow next to his?

As though struck by a Mack truck, Jacin realized Dr. Tobias had called Melina Mrs. Torres.

Another lie.

But perhaps for good reason. If he’d been brought into the hospital unconscious, he’d probably spent time in the intensive care unit. Perhaps he was still there. Jacin had been in and around hospitals enough to know that only family was allowed to visit someone in the ICU. He remembered pacing the waiting room, barred by wide double doors and stern-faced nurses, when a SEAL teammate had taken three bullets. Only their commanding officer had been allowed in to see their friend—limited to ten minutes every two hours—until his family arrived from Oklahoma. Jacin warmed at the thought she’d wanted to be close to him, come see him even though he was unable to communicate with her.

“What do I need to do, Doctor?” Melina’s voice was sultry and musical.

Jacin was sure that was by design. Their CIA training included classes in seduction. That’s how they’d met. He was her final exam. Voice modulation, tone, and even pacing of words could be used to ignite a fire or douse struggling embers.

“Hold his hand, and most important, reassure him he is home and safe now.” Dr. Tobias’s suggestions sounded just fine to Jacin.

This time, Jacin felt the drugs enter his body through the IV and race throughout his system with every heartbeat. He didn’t know what they’d given him, or even care, as it brought him more and more aware. He dragged in air and caught the delicate scent of gardenias and spice that was Melina. No other woman in the world smelled quite like her.

“That’s it, Jacin. Come back to me.” She squeezed his hand, and a different kind of warmth chased the medicine through his body then shot to his soul. She wanted him in her life.

“We’re in the United States.” She didn’t bother to hide the tinge of excitement, or maybe he just knew her that well. “You’re in a hospital on Fort Cavazos Army Base. You’ll remember it as Fort Cavazos.”

Okay, they were in Texas. He wondered if it was the same base where her brother was stationed.

“Keep talking to him,” Dr. Tobias suggested. “He’s coming around nicely. Mr. Torres, can you squeeze your wife’s hand?”

Well, no. I don’t have a wife.

“Jacin, please, squeeze my hand.” She’d asked sweetly, so with herculean effort he did as she requested.

“He did it. I felt his hand move.” Melina sounded more excited than he thought she should.

“Excellent. Let’s bring him up some more.” The doctor moved beside him. Little by little Jacin became more and more awake and responded to orders. “Mr. Torres, your eyes are still slightly swollen, but I need you to open them on your own power. Can you do that for me?”

He peeked them open the tiniest bit and slammed them shut. Damn, it was bright.

“Close those drapes and someone catch the lights. It’s been days, perhaps weeks, since he’s opened his eyes.” Dr. Tobias patted Jacin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have been more considerate.”

Jacin dragged in a deep breath and tried to reassure everyone in the room. “It’s okay.” His throat was so dry the words rasped out. “Water…please.”

“Certainly.” The doctor had an underlying eagerness as he continued, “Quickly, get the man some water and a cup of ice slivers.”

A flurry of motion filled the room.

In a quiet voice Melina reassured him, “I’m right here, Jacin.” When she wrapped her fingers tightly around his, he clutched hers in return.

The hum of the motor preceded the movement of his bed as it lifted his back up. He heard water pouring over ice.

“Now, Mr. Torres, if you’ll open your eyes, you can have this water. But I need you to open those eyes, both of them.”

Damn it, he wanted that water. This time when his lids lifted, the room was gratefully dim. His gaze found her quickly and when their eyes met, she gifted him with a real smile.

He sighed her name. “Melina.”

A plastic cup with a bent straw appeared in front of his face, and he jolted back.

“His depth perception may take several days to return to normal,” Dr. Tobias explained to the students in the room. “He’ll require a full examination once the swelling has completely reduced. With so much damage to the face region, he may have a detached retina.” Great! Something else to look forward to. With a great deal of concentration, Jacin was finally able to capture the straw and got it to his mouth.

“Very good, son. Just a few sips. We have to get your body working again. Your system may reject food at first, so we’ll start with water.”

Well, wasn’t that fucking great? He couldn’t remember his last meal. Matter of fact, he couldn’t remember much. As instructed, he sipped the water and relished the cold on his tongue cleansing the roof of his mouth and soothing his throat. He’d swear he could feel the cool liquid move all the way down to his stomach.

The second man from earlier cleared his throat. “Mr. Torres, I’m Dr. Cassidy. I work very closely with Dr. Tobias on cases like yours.” The short man who couldn’t weigh a hundred and fifty pounds moved through the crowded room to stand between Melina and Dr. Tobias. “Now, can you please tell me, who is the president?”

Without thinking, Jacin answered, “Gustavo Petro.”

Snickers filled the room.

“Isn’t he the president of Colombia?” asked the kiss ass.

“Jacin, he meant the president of the United States of America.” She held his hand tight until he finally answered the question correctly.

“Good,” Dr. Cassidy complimented and looked over his shoulder at the young faces. “You start with easy questions and work up to harder ones.” Returning his gaze to Jacin, he advised, “I’m going to give you three words and I want you to remember them.”

For the next ten minutes, Jacin was quizzed on everything from math to spelling. All too often, he answered in Spanish or gave the Spanish spelling of a word rather than English.

After the second time, his angel saved him. Lying once again, she told the psychiatrist, “Spanish is Jacin’s first language, and he has recently been immersed in a Spanish-speaking country.” She looked around the room with a big smile. “He was never very good at spelling to begin with. Thank goodness for spellcheck and auto correct, or I’d never able to read anything he wrote.” That won her chuckles and giggles from the future doctors.

All lies. Jacin had been born in the United States to a Puerto Rican mother and Venezuelan father who had seen the world together while working on cruise ships before settling in southern Florida and finally raising a family. Un-accented American English was most often spoken in his childhood home, but his multilingual parents also taught him and his sister Portuguese, Spanish, French, German, and even a little Italian.

Finally, the inquisition came to an end when Dr. Tobias took pity on Jacin. “I think our patient is tiring. We don’t want to push him too hard, especially since this is the first time he’s been awake in nearly two weeks.”

Although chastised by his colleague, Dr. Cassidy rallied. “You’re absolutely right. Mr. Torres, thank you so much for allowing me to show these young interns some of the challenges of psychiatry. I’ll be back to see you several times before you can be discharged.”

And won’t that be fucking fun?

No agent ever enjoyed the mind probe necessary to work for the CIA, but this grandstander seemed to be even worse. Given the vast amount of classified information in Jacin’s brain, he hoped Langley would spring him from this hospital soon and get him to Washington D.C.

Several of the younger people in white coats filed past him, quietly thanking him. A tall, lanky young man waited to be last.

“I’ll bet you were in Colombia, weren’t you? Were you undercover or something? DEA? CIA?” His questions flew at Jacin too fast to answer any given one. They almost hurt his brain.

Melina stared daggers at the eager intern who couldn’t be twenty-five years old. “Young man.” The tone of her voice commanded attention and everyone in the room stopped and looked at her. “You are in a military medical facility. You have already been told that information is classified. What you need to learn is that knowing that kind of information can get you killed.”

At the shocked look on the young face, Jacin’s avenging angel reiterated, “Hear me and understand…Information. Can. Get. You. Killed. I want you to forget you ever met Jacin Torres. I want you to forget what he looks like. You’re a security breach waiting to happen. Your questions just got your personnel file tagged with a big red flag. I can assure you, you will be watched very carefully, which is a shame for such a bright young man with such a promising future.”

Intelligent eyes looked to Dr. Tobias for help, but found none.

“I told you when your class first came into this room that as a military physician you will be exposed to highly classified situations,” Dr. Tobias said. “You just failed this first test. You are dismissed. Please join your class for rounds.”

Anger flashed in those young eyes before he acquiesced. “Yes, sir.” His gaze went to Melina. “I’m a fast learner, and I completely understand.”

She didn’t back down. “You’d better.”

“Yes, ma’am. Message received.” He smartly performed an about face and left the room.

“He’ll make it.” Dr. Tobias glanced from Jacin to Melina. “I don’t believe either of you have anything to worry about, but I too received your message loud and clear. His file will be flagged, and he will be watched, especially for the next year. I don’t know who you really are or if those are your real names.” He shrugged. “In truth, I don’t really care. You’re my patient, and I’m here to help you get better. We each serve this wonderful country of ours, but in very different ways.” He stared into Jacin’s still swollen and bloodshot eyes, holding his gaze for a long minute. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. You took one hell of a beating for our country. I’m just glad I was here to help put you back together.”

He reached down and wrapped a big hand around Jacin’s forearm well above his sore wrist. “I’m sure you want to spend some time with your beautiful wife. I’ll be back at least once a day until you’re released.”

Finally, Jacin and Melina were alone.

“Come here,” Jacin commanded.

He tried to reach up only to realize he was still restrained. “Can you unfasten me?”

She smiled and went to work on the padded cuffs. As soon as his hand was free, he pulled her head toward his. When their lips met, for a brief moment she hesitated before they both gave in and were consumed with each other. His world—which had been tilted for far too long—was once again righted.

This was the way his life was supposed to be. Melina was his, and they were together, hopefully forever.