Running on Empty (17 page)

Noah believed her. He just hoped to hell it didn’t come to that.

Sabrina relaxed against the soft leather seat of the Gulfstream G650. There were a lot of differences in working for a government agency and working for Last Chance Rescue. The ride was one of them. Working for EDJE, she’d hitched rides on every kind of transport, not one of them this luxurious. Despite their desire to keep their ops low profile, LCR had some grateful and often wealthy donors.

 The team on this mission was a larger number than usual—nine total. Two would stay behind, handling communications. When the time came for extraction, every second counted. The other seven would be on the raid, including her husband.

She knew she was taking on a huge responsibility in vouching for Declan. Especially when she’d seen little evidence of the man she had thought she knew better than anyone. A few days ago, she wouldn’t have vouched for him and still couldn’t say with any certainty that her trust was warranted, but she had to give him this opportunity. She just prayed that she wouldn’t be forced to keep her promise to Noah. If it came down to the lives of victims or her fellow operatives over Declan, she would have to live up to her word. She hoped with all her being that she wouldn’t have to make that choice.

Their altercation five days ago had left her in a turmoil of seething emotions. Sexual frustration and rage were not a good combination. If she hadn’t walked out the door when she had, without a doubt she would have given Declan the punch to his face he’d asked for. 

Instead of punching him, she’d returned to the LCR gym and had gone after the punching bag like a lunatic. Days later, her hands were still bruised and aching. And she’d still been hurting. 

All of that self-righteous anger had changed two days ago. Albert had called to speak with Declan. When she’d knocked on his bedroom door and hadn’t gotten an answer, she’d walked into his room. The sound of the shower running had carried her to his bathroom. Declan was just getting into the shower, with his back to her. She had seen the scars—deep welts, most likely from a whip and cane, were interspersed with burn scars that mottled his skin from his broad shoulders to the backs of his muscled calves. She had known he had been tortured. Had known about the scars—Dr. Lamar had told her they were bad. She had never imagined how bad nor how much hatred would rise within her at their sight. Not at Declan but at the people who had done this to him. Dammit, he did deserve vengeance. And she was going to do everything she could to see that he got it.

She had backed out of the room before he could see her. The need to throw up had warred with the need to sob out her fury and pain. She had done neither. She had simply continued on as if nothing had changed—even though everything had. If she had to leave LCR to do it, if she had to fight her own government, or even her own code of ethics, it didn’t matter. Declan would see justice—this she vowed.

Since that day, there had been an uneasy truce between them. His distrust was still there, lying between them like a huge, giant pit, but he’d refrained from accusations. She’d tiptoed around him as if he were a land mine waiting to detonate. It wasn’t comfortable, but after all the volatile emotions, the lack of rancor was a peaceful if edgy respite. 

In between their prep work of packing for their trip and the daily briefings at LCR headquarters, she saw little of him. They lived together, but that consisted only of occupying the same apartment. They could have been strangers for all the intimacy they had between them. 

“You got a minute?”

She turned to Aidan who’d been sitting several seats down from her. He now stood in front of her, and from the look in his eyes, she knew he wanted a private conversation. He’d been amazingly non-vocal about the civilian addition to their team. She had a feeling that was about to change.

Standing, she headed to the plane’s private quarters, knowing he followed her. 

The sight of his estranged wife going off into a private meeting with another man shouldn’t have fazed him. Just because Aidan Thorne looked like some sort of Hollywood actor with his too-perfect face and muscular body should have meant nothing. Having an emotion remotely resembling jealousy should have been laughable. So why then did his gut feel as though he’d guzzled acid?

Sabrina had once told him he had the face of a poet and the body of a Greek god. That had both amused and embarrassed him, but there’d been a small part of him that had been secretly delighted at her words. What man wouldn’t want his wife to feel that way? 

There was little of the man she had loved left, in looks or anything else.

He had seen her back out of the bathroom the other day. She had seen his scars, what those savages had done to him. His chest and stomach were almost as bad. For some unknown reason, they’d left his face alone, but the rest of his body had been their playground, where they’d played out their sadistic games. 

So what if Sabrina had a relationship with another man? Like he gave a damn. 

She was still angry about the kiss. It’d been a low blow, but the only thing he’d been able to come up with to draw attention away from his driving need. He had desired her more than he even remembered. She was a great actress, so the hurt on her face could have been feigned, but no way in hell could a person turn ghost-white on command. She’d been devastated by his accusation. 

Since that day, since those strong doubts had emerged, he’d been riddled with more, even fiercer, headaches. He didn’t know their cause, but if he’d mentioned them, without a doubt Sabrina would have hauled him back to the doctor. He couldn’t risk being put on medication that might dull his senses. Nor could he chance being taken off this mission. Over-the-counter pain meds would suffice. Nothing could get in the way of this op.

Other than Sabrina and maybe Mathison, his presence wasn’t appreciated or wanted by the other team members. He didn’t blame them. They were focused on rescuing—he was focused on vengeance. Even McCall, who’d had a long and frank discussion with him, wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision.

That was okay—he understood their reticence. And despite their doubts, he would help where he could. He owed them that. LCR was making it possible for him to hunt down his torturers. Declan would do his best to see that their mission was successful and without casualties.

“How many rescue missions have you been on?”

Declan turned to face Cole Mathison. Of all the operatives he’d met so far, this man seemed to be the most normal. Hard to believe that he had gone through something similar to what Declan had experienced.

“My first few years with EDJE, maybe six or seven. Our primary objectives were to destroy terrorists and prevent future attacks. Rescuing was sometimes a byproduct of our job but never our main focus.”

“What changed?”

“How’s that?”

“You said your first few years. Did you change jobs?”

“In a roundabout way, yes. I became the trainer for the most-promising recruits. I still worked ops but not as many. Last few years, I coordinated and oversaw missions.”

“And that’s how you met Sabrina?”

“Yeah.” He still remembered that first day when she’d barged in on a meeting he’d been having with Albert. She had been in training for about eight months but had yet to advance to Declan’s courses. Instead of apologizing for interrupting, she’d complained to Albert about the treatment of a new recruit by one of the instructors. After several minutes of grousing, she’d stopped and looked directly at Declan as if expecting him to agree with her. Oddly enough, he had. The instructor she’d complained about was an asshole who had a tendency to treat new recruits as if they were the lowest form of humanity. 

Declan had always thought it interesting that his first meeting with Sabrina had involved her sticking up for someone. She would fight tooth and nail to defend the underdog. What had made her change?

“I’ve only worked a few ops with her,” Mathison was saying, “but I’ve been impressed each time with her professionalism and heart.”

Interesting observation, Declan thought. Insightful. Sabrina had the courage of a warrior and the heart of a lioness. She could be cold and methodical. Deadly when pitting herself against an opponent. And with her most difficult ops, she decompressed by letting all emotions come to the surface. It was her way, and though sometimes seeing her so raw and hurting had been difficult, he had felt grateful to be the man to soothe her. As far as he knew, he was the only one who knew that about her. He had counted himself fortunate that she allowed him the privilege of being the one to calm and comfort her.

His eyes darted to the closed door where Sabrina and Thorne had disappeared. Was that something her new partner did? Did he hold her, soothe her? Make love to her until she quieted and knew peace?

Apparently reading his thoughts, Mathison directed his gaze at the door, too. “Aidan and Sabrina have a unique relationship.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Though his eyes remained impassive, Mathison’s mouth twitched as if he was struggling not to smile. Instead of a direct answer, he gave another enigmatic reply. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

So did that mean their relationship was physical as he had suspected? Is that why they’d gone behind closed doors? They’d wanted privacy for their little tryst? When her husband was sitting on the other side of that door like some kind of a clueless pansy-assed wimp?

Like hell!

“Look, tell me to mind my own business if you like. Just remember, you are my partner, which makes it my business. And you’re also my friend.”

For the past five minutes, Sabrina had listened to Aidan express his concerns about Declan’s involvement. She couldn’t exactly argue with him, as she’d had similar thoughts. And he was right—they were partners, which meant they watched each other’s backs and didn’t pull punches on expressing their opinions.

“He deserves the opportunity to find these savages.”

“I agree. I just don’t want it to be to your detriment, the team’s, or the guy’s we’re going to rescue. Our goal, like always, is to bring everybody back alive—that includes your husband.”

“If it comes down to choosing, I’ll go against Declan. And if necessary, I’ll take him out myself.”

Aidan jerked back as if shocked at the statement. “Hell, I would never ask you to do that.”

 Even though the thought of having to do such a thing sliced through her insides like a scythe, she almost felt amusement at Aidan’s protectiveness. He trusted her to be able to handle any situation with deadly force if necessary, but her partner had a protective streak a mile long, especially toward women. Someday he was going to make some very fortunate woman a wonderful husband.

“No one else should have to handle Declan. He’s my responsibility. Here at my request. I should be the one to handle the situation if it goes sour.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t. I’ve seen that look in men’s eyes before. Right now he only has one thing on his mind. He’s damaged. Caring about others is way down on his priority list.”

“After what he’s suffered, can you blame him?”

“Hell no, but that doesn’t make him a great team player.”

She couldn’t deny that, either. All she could do was play the hand she’d been dealt. And pray with all her might that she never had to make a decision of that magnitude.

With barely half a rap in warning, the door pushed open, and the subject of their discussion stuck his head in the room. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

“Since the door was closed,” Aidan drawled, “I’d say that was obvious.”

Ignoring Aidan’s less-than-friendly answer, Declan turned to Sabrina. “Should I leave?”

For the first time since seeing him again, there was something in Declan’s expression other than pain and bitterness. She saw jealousy, temper, possessiveness. She saw life! Call her silly, stupid, or juvenile, but her foolish heart leaped with optimism. 

“We were just discussing the mission,” Sabrina said.

Declan arched a black brow, and once again her foolish heart pounded at that familiar and lovable trait. “Odd. Seems like the entire team would be in on that kind of discussion.”

“We’re partners,” Aidan growled, “which means we have a lot to say to each other. You got a problem with that, Steele?”

“You and my wife having a work partnership doesn’t bother me in the least, Thorne.”

“Good.” Aidan looked pointedly at the door. “Now if you don’t mind, we’ll continue our discussion…alone.”

His expression going glacial, Declan stepped into the room and headed toward Aidan. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Sabrina snapped, “would both of you stop acting like thirteen-year-old boys?”

Even though the spark of jealousy in Declan’s eyes delighted her, having two grown men snarling over her like two dogs after the same pork chop was infuriating.

Noah appeared at the door, his look taking in all three of them. “Something going on in here I need to know about?” The abrupt question cut into the tense silence.

Instead of backing away, Declan kept a cold, dark stare locked on Aidan. Seconds passed and finally, Aidan said, “No, boss, we were just chatting about the fine weather in Dolisie.”

“Then I suggest everyone take their seats and buckle up, because we’re about to land and experience that fine weather firsthand.”

Chapter Fourteen

Republic of Congo

Their home base wasn’t much. A three-room house with a dirt floor and thin, ragged cloths to cover the open windows. Most everyone had stayed in worse and took it all in stride. They weren’t here to enjoy themselves.

They had chosen this location because of its proximity to the prison Steele had been held in. Noah’s intel had discovered two other possible locations as well. The plan was to search each one with the hope of finding Tyndall.

Noah stood at the door, eyeing his operatives, as well as Steele. They’d dropped off their heaviest supplies here. Operatives Angela Delvecchio and Jake Mallory would handle communications. The prison was a hard day’s trek. If they found Tyndall, they’d hightail it back here and get the hell out, ASAP. If he wasn’t located, they’d move on to the next location. If still no Tyndall, the team would make the trek back to the house, restock their supplies, sleep, and then head out again the next day.