Above All Else: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 2) (14 page)

              Of course they would wonder that. My heart broke. That would be the only explanation for why a niece wouldn’t fly to her beloved uncle’s rescue. I felt horrible and guilty, standing there alive and well.

              Photos of me floated across the screen as Miranda continued, “If Princess Sofia does not reveal herself within the next twelve hours, it is assumed that Prince Gregory will be executed. At this point, the UN have called Minister Pryto and his protestors’ actions ‘a secret coup’ and are calling for an immediate cease of actions. But so far, no response from the Loranzian minister.”

             
No surprise,
I thought. Why would he stop now? He was winning. He even had the prince in his clutches. Why stop now?

              I had been staring at the screen with such rapture, that I hadn’t noticed the elderly couple standing in front of me.

              “A missing princess,” the elderly woman mumbled to her husband. “Can you imagine? Like a fairy tale.”

             
More like a nightmare,
I corrected internally.

              The husband nodded before glancing behind at me. He looked as if he was going to ask me about my thoughts on the missing princess when he suddenly stopped, his mouth still open with the unformed words hanging in it.

              I stared at the man quizzically before realizing the possible danger I was in. I pulled my hat down low over my head.

              “You know,” the older man started, squinting at me from under my cap. “You bear a striking resemblance, young lady, to the—”

              “I think you have me mistaken for someone else, sir,” I said, trying to keep my voice monotone to drown out any accent.

              But my protest only made the man’s brow rise up. He elbowed his wife. “Ethel! Ethel! Don’t you think this girl here looks like that missing princess?”

              The man had meant to grab his wife’s attention but he had spoken so loud, he had also grabbed the attention of the woman behind the counter. She looked up in surprise and eyeballed me. I could tell she wanted to laugh off the man’s suggestion. After all, what would a royal princess being doing out here in the middle of nowhere? But I could see doubt suddenly clouding her gaze.

              She squinted as well at me.

              My heart immediately pumped faster. I couldn’t be discovered now! I had planned to reveal myself once I was on a flight to France. That would buy me time and then there’d be no way for anyone to divert my flight or destination. Once I landed in France, they’d be aware of my arrival and would have the proper security there to greet me and hopefully, keep me protected.

              But if my cover was blown now, I’d have no control over how or when the media would leak my location. The US government would probably intervene and they would have greater say in where I would be sent. And I couldn’t be sure they would send me to the friendliest ally.

              Ethel turned around and studied me. “She
does
have her build, doesn’t she? Kind of that waif-y sort,” she said to her husband. Then looking at me, she said, “Dear, you couldn’t possibly be—”

              I stumbled backwards, trying to put space between myself and the prying gazes. I noticed the ticket woman looking back and forth between the TV screen and me, her eyes getting wider and wider with every look.

              “No, no,” I said. Dammit! How had Xander managed to get me through a bustling airport like LAX and I couldn’t get myself a ticket at this tiny little airstrip without already getting caught?

              “I think you have me confused, ma’am,” I said again in that stilted monotone voice that clearly wasn’t doing me any favors.

              The couple took another step towards me and I hastily backed up, walking straight into a man and his rolling suitcase. I stumbled over the both of them, falling hard on my ass with a grunt.

              “Oh, miss! I’m so sorry! I totally didn’t see you!” the man said in apology.

              I groaned as I waved a hand. “No, no,” I said, blowing a strand of hair off my face. “My fault. I ran into you.”

              Then I heard a gasp.

              And I realized how easily I had blown that strand of hair away. I looked around me frantically and saw that my hat had been knocked off in my fall and that I now sat on my ass in front of a small gathering crowd, with my face fully on display with nowhere to hide.

              “It
is
her!” the elderly man crowed in triumph. “It’s that missing princess! Right here! In Wyoming! Can you believe it?”

              I saw wide eyes circling me as I stumbled back to my feet, unsure how I could possibly outrun this situation. People started reaching for their phones and despite putting a hand over my face and insisting they were mistaken, I heard the clear snaps of my blown cover.

              “A princess!”

              “Here! Of all places! Wow!”

              “No, get a better picture! From this angle! Get her from this angle!”

              “Princess! Can you look at the camera for me? Princess!”

              I tried to maneuver out of the crowd but they moved with me, keeping me right in the center.

              “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to cover my face while also simultaneously trying not to burst into tears. “You have the wrong person. I don’t know who—”

              An iron rod suddenly swooped out of nowhere and grabbed me by the shoulders. The smell of well worn leather surrounded me and I looked up to find myself under the covers of Xander’s leather jacket. His arm held me close and he curved his jacket about me, covering and protecting me.

              From underneath his arms, I saw the square jawline, set and strong, and pressed against his hard chest, I felt the comforting hardness of his steely muscles. And even though I had had every intention of running away from him, I nearly cried in relief in seeing him again.

              Without a word, he used his sheer size to push our way through. I heard the people protesting and calling out for one more picture. He lead me through the crowd and down the terminal. I followed, having little to no choice, but started to slow down when I saw him approaching the exit.

              “What are you doing?” I whispered frantically, trying to dig my heels down.

              “Taking you out of this mess before anyone tries to hogtie you and sell you to a magazine,” Xander said, not looking down at me. I could tell he wasn’t serious but something about the blood thirst in the crowd made me think it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

              “No!” I said. “I have to get back to L.A.! I have to get on a plane now!”

              Xander stopped and pulled me up close. So close that I was pressed right up against him, my head craning back to look up at him.

              “I’m not letting you go anywhere without me,” he said slowly, his eyes burning into me. “Do you understand? Wherever you go, I go. So don’t try to pull another stunt like this again.”

              Tears burned my eyes as his words pierced my heart. I had never had someone I could truly call an ally. And the feeling was too incredible to describe.

              “But…” I protested. “I have to get to L.A.”

              Xander kept me pressed close to him. “Sof, we will find a way to get your uncle
and
to keep you safe,” he said. “Remember, this is what your uncle wanted. Throwing yourself into danger won’t help anybody. You couldn’t even make it out of this airport without trouble. What would happen once you landed in Europe? I understand wanting to take action but you have to be smart about it.”

              He held my gaze one moment longer before taking my lips, as if unable to keep from reassuring himself that I really was safe in his arms.

              “You don’t understand,” I said weakly once our lips had broken apart.

              Xander gave me one more look before pushing me out the door. “Then help me understand,” he said. “But at home.”

Chapter
Fourteen
Xander

              “Are you insane?!” I raked my hand through my hair, the scenes of the people from the airport replaying through my mind. I had never seen a celebrity sighting before but it had been unnerving to see the absolute hunger and bloodthirst that came into their eyes as soon as they had seen Sofia.

              They had closed in on her like tigers on a wounded prey. Even as I had pulled her out of there, I had felt their hands tugging on my sleeve to try and get at her.

              “Do you know what kind of danger you could’ve put yourself in? That you
have
put yourself in?” I demanded. Sofia leaned against the kitchen island, looking away. She neither looked repentant or sorry for her actions but I could tell she was somewhat shaken. She had been surprised at being spotted in such a small airport. I had been as well.

              But by the defiant tilt of her small chin, I could tell she’d do it all over again if it meant she’d get away.

              Seeing her small chin, her delicate jawline, her slender throat, I felt all the more explosive for the danger she had put herself in. She was already in a precarious situation as it was.

              “What will happen when those pictures leak? Your position is now compromised,” I said.

              Sofia’s head finally snapped towards me. “You don’t know that they’ll leak,” she argued but I could see in her eyes that she didn’t even believe her own words.

              “They’ll leak,” I said with a definitive tone. “As gorgeous as you are, they didn’t take those photos for their own collection. I’m betting that within the next twelve hours, if not sooner, reports will be coming in on your whereabouts.”

              The realization of that made me grab the remote to turn on the small kitchen TV. I put the volume on low. I wanted to keep an eye on the news so I knew just when the word broke on Sofia’s airport fiasco.

              I turned back to her. Sofia was staring up at me, her face defiant yet her eyes heartbroken. Clearly, she was overwhelmed by the recent turn of events, which I couldn’t blame her for. But I was hurt as well. Did she not trust me to protect her? To take care of her?

              “My uncle is in danger,” she said slowly, as if laying the facts out for herself as well as for me. “And I’m the only person who can save him.”

              “How?” I asked. “By getting yourself killed?”

              “He can’t kill me,” she argued. “The eyes of the world are on Loranza now. If I were to be killed, there’s no way he could establish any kind of government afterwards without serious sanctions and ramifications.”

              I shook my head. In any other time, I would’ve been endeared by her naiveté and would’ve tried to protect it but now was not the time. That kind of naiveté could get her killed and that was something I was not about to let happen.

              “If Pryto was a man to ever worry about sanctions and ramifications, he never would’ve started this coup,” I said. “There is nothing to guarantee your safety abroad. You need to work from the assumption that as soon as you land in Loranza, you’re dead.”

              “There is nothing to guarantee my uncle’s safety!” she cried, her eyes sparkling. Seeing the tears stand out, I could see how thin of a thread Sofia was holding herself together with. I wanted to hold her tight, keep her within my grasp and know that my body would keep her safe.

              But I couldn’t do that. Not just yet. I first had to have her see reason. If she kept fleeing or flouting mine and Commander Wolffe’s orders, nothing could keep her safe.

              “But your uncle won’t be king,” I said quietly.

              Sofia’s eyes widened momentarily before she took a shocked step back. My blunt words had hit her across the face and she stumbled at the impact.

              “Your uncle’s life does not hold the same value yours does,” I said in the same quiet and stark honest voice. “At least,” I amended, “in regards to your country.”

              Sofia stared at me. I could tell she wanted to refute my words but couldn’t. After all, it was true.
She
was the crowned heir, not her uncle.

Spending years in the field where you made life or death choices, you quickly gain the ability to separate your feelings from your decision making. The good of the many over the few. Easy Team’s own captain, Hawk, had had to face that kind of dilemma over and over again. And every man on Easy Team had seen it himself at some point during a mission. Lose a whole village to save a whole town? Lose one child to protect a dozen others? All in a day’s gritty, bloody work.

In terms of her country’s future and the succession of the monarchy, she was priceless. She was not expendable.

Her uncle was.

“His life has value to
me,
” Sofia said, her voice a tight whisper. “Despite Pryto’s best efforts, he was the only person to ever try and keep in contact with me. He was the one who sent me Christmas cards when I was away in school. He was the one who remembered my birthdays. He was the one who…” she choked on a sob before regaining some measure of control “…who remembered my parents and pressed me to remember them too.”

I couldn’t stop myself. I closed the distance between us in three long strides and wrapped my arms around her. She fought at first, pulling and twisting away from me, rejecting the comfort I so desperately wanted to give her. It always broke my heart to see how she always rejected comfort when she was in pain. I had noticed it early on. It spoke volumes on how she must’ve learned to cope with pain growing up.

But I held her firmly, giving her no room to wriggle free. And once she had tired herself out, she slumped in my arms, tears rolling silently down her face.

“I can save him,” I heard her whisper against my chest as I rubbed slow circles against her back. “There’s still time.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone,” I said, holding her close. “Let me help you. Let’s work together to come up with a plan.”

Sofia raised her head, her crystal blue eyes glistening like cut jewels. I brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away the hot tears. Her gaze brushed over my face, as if searching me for the truth. Could she really rely on me? Could she really believe she was not alone in this fight?

I held her steady in my arms, willing her with my body to accept my help.

“Let me help you,” I said, locking eyes with her, letting her see as deeply into me as she wanted. “Don’t do this alone.”

She stared up at me with a look of timid hope before she opened her mouth, about to reply when we both jerked at a short honking sound that blasted from the TV.

Even on low volume, we had heard the loud honk. We turned around and saw a male anchor on the screen, his eyes wide and his expression surprised. By his face was a picture of the Loranza flag.

Sofia grabbed the remote and raised the volume.

I tensed, wondering if this would be the report revealing Sofia’s location.

“…breaking news! But please be warned that this is graphic footage that is being broadcast. Please be aware. We do not recommend younger viewers to watch the following broadcast that is coming in live from Loranza,” the anchor said.

I felt Sofia’s body tightening in anxiety as the screen jumped from the news anchor to a shaky video of Minister Pryto. Dressed in what looked like formal black robes, the man stood on some kind of podium with his arms raised, addressing a large crowd that surrounded him.

“…see how little she cares!” he shouted to the crowd. “She discards even her own uncle, the Prince! If she cannot care for her own blood, how can she care for her people?”

The people roared in agreement, throwing their fists up and chanting.

Sofia shuddered in my arms at their thunderous shouts and I wanted to throw the TV across the room in frustrated anger. But instead, I just held onto her, wanting to somehow infuse her with my own strength.

Pryto let the cries go on for a good few minutes. Once he was satisfies the cameras had caught it all, he raised his hands to silence them. “But I am not like the royal family,” he cried. “I care about Loranza!” The people cheered raucously. “And even though he is not my family, he was our Prince and I have negotiated with the kidnappers and have rescued Prince Gregory!”

“Pryto! Pryto! Pryto!” the people cheered.

Sofia put a hand to her mouth, clearly confused.

I snorted, disgusted by the man. What a cheap trick. He had hired people to kidnap the prince and then once the ransom video had been made and villains had clearly been marked and Sofia’s reputation further damages, he was able to come out and now announce he had “saved” the prince even though he had been the one holding him the entire time.

The man was a born dictator.

“And once the prince had been rescued, he was put immediately on trial for the negligence and corruption he has been party to as member of the royal family,” Pryto continued. The crowd was hushed, hanging on his every word.

And in Wyoming, so were we.

              “I presided over the case to ensure a swift and fair trial and after much consideration, Prince Gregory has been found guilty of negligence, corruption, contempt, and obstruction of justice in providing aid to locate the princess!”

              The crowd cheered uproariously.

              “Justice! Justice!” they cried.

              Sofia slowly began shaking her head. “No…” she whispered, her eyes glued to the small screen. “No….”

              “And so it is with a heavy heart that I sentence Prince Gregory to death for the crimes against the nation he has committed!”

              Sofia gave a sharp cry at the words but her body remained frozen, completely unable to move from where she stood. All she could do was stare at the screen, completely trapped by the broadcast.

              From behind the podium, two guards marched up, dragging someone between them. It had been weeks since I had seen Prince Gregory in L.A. And during that time, it was clear the man had suffered.

              Although he was taller than Pryto, he stood stooped and exhausted. His hair fell in bedraggled clumps across his eyes. Scraggly white stubble lined his once smooth shaven jaw. His cheeks were sunken with the signs of starvation. Pryto had been cruel to this man. He had clearly been torturing him without mercy.

              Prince Gregory stood in what looked like rags and his arms were bound before him.

              “Oh my god, no!” Sofia cried, tears welling up over her lashes, freefalling down her cheeks in hot rivulets. My throat clenched at watching the scene play out. I could already tell where this was going. I wanted to turn off the TV. I wanted to pull Sofia into my arms and drown out the world for her. But there was no hiding from this. Pryto was making sure of that.

              “Prince Gregory,” Pryto started theatrically as the crowd booed and jeered him, “you have been found guilty by the courts for your treacherous actions against the State. You have been sentenced to death. Do you have any final words?”

              I could feel Sofia leaning in, as if aching to reach through the screen to touch her beloved uncle.

              Prince Gregory, despite the clear hardships he had been through, managed to straighten up. He looked out onto the crowd through his greasy and messy hair. Even through the rags, you could see the posture of a prince. It was hard to deny the authority that still radiated from him.

              “My people,” he started. People immediately started booing and jeering but the prince persevered. “My people, it breaks my heart to know you are suffering. And as unlikely as it is for you to believe, I know it breaks the Crown Princess’s heart as well.”

              A small but steady tremor began to run through Sofia’s body. She shook as if her body was ready to come apart at the seams and she was just barely holding it together.

              “There is nothing I can say or do now that could change your feelings but this is what I hope for in the future,” he said, speaking with a clear even tone that made clear his royal upbringing. “My hope is that some day, hopefully in the near future, you will all become the true Loranza once again. A country that is not one of hate or fear or anger but one of understanding and love and forgiveness. There have been many mistakes made in recent history and perhaps there
is
one person who deserves most of the blame but it is not who you think it is. So, with my last breaths, I hope that Loranza can open their hearts and minds so that our wonderful country will have many more generations to come. Don’t let this be the end of our history. Don’t let the fight end here.”

              There was a sudden hush that fell across the crowd. The words had been powerful and had been powerfully spoken. It was obvious they had touched the people in an unexpected way.

              But Pryto wasn’t about to let anyone gain footing over him. “Pretty words cannot cover up ugly deeds!” he cried out. And as if woken from a stupor, the people roared again and booed the prince.

              The two guards on either side of the prince marched him to the end of the stage where there was a small raised box. They placed the prince on the box. My muscles tightened, watching the scene unfold. My fist closed, momentarily forgetting I wasn’t holding a rifle.