Absolution (35 page)

Noises brought her heavy lids open. Rhys shouted something. She heard more voices. Men’s, all talking at once until she wanted to cover her ears. Then Rhys handed her to someone else and she looked up into Ben’s pale green eyes. “Wh-where’s L-Luke?” she repeated, wanting to scream it at him.

Why the hell wasn’t anyone telling her what was happening?

Because they don’t know anything.

The knowledge chilled her even more.

“Rhys is going after him,” Ben finally said, jogging over to a black truck. He yanked open the passenger door and put her in the seat, belting her in before racing around to the driver’s side and sliding behind the wheel. “Dec and his boys are on their way.”

Like that was supposed to reassure her? Luke was alone out there. How long would it be before any reinforcements arrived?

Ben gunned the engine and took off. Reaching 286

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over, he aimed the vent at her and turned the heat on full power. The hot air blasted over her chilled skin but didn’t melt the ice encasing her heart and lungs. Inside she was frozen solid with fear for Luke.

She trembled from exposure to the cold water and shock that she was still alive, plus the guilt of knowing Luke was facing his own death because of her failure. A ragged sob built up.

“Hang in there.” Ben took a sharp turn before hitting the gas once more. The powerful engine revved as the vehicle raced over the pavement.

“We’ll get you warmed up and dry when we get back to the compound.”

The sob worked free. She didn’t care about getting warm and dry. Tears of fury and pain tracked down her cheeks. The medallion lay heavy against her chest, reminding her that Luke had woken up that morning expecting to die.

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Luke’s heart lurched as the gun came up to point at his chest. Tehrazzi gave a shout of triumph.

It reverberated in Luke’s head like a gunshot.

Fuck. This.

Pressing his lips together, he reached down inside him for his last ounce of strength. In one final burst, he shoved the gun upward, catching Tehrazzi by surprise for the split second he needed to bring the weapon up high enough. Luke angled the pistol and steeled himself against what was coming, praying the angle was right so it wouldn’t trigger the vest. His thumb reached down to curl around the curved trigger. He closed his eyes. Stopping the sudden jerk of Tehrazzi’s arm, he squeezed down.

The shot rang out above the hideous, burning pain in his left shoulder, so strong his hand loosened on the detonator. His own scream shattered the night.

His fingers spasmed around it and he held on with all his will, fighting to stay above the pain as Tehrazzi slumped behind him with a terrible wheeze. Releasing the gun to grab the vest’s detonator with his right hand, Luke’s legs gave out and they crashed to the floor. He bellowed as the raw wound in his shoulder burned like fire, white hot, stealing his breath and making him light headed. His hand spasmed on the detonator.

Don’t let go. You can’t let go.
He wanted to live.

Had to, to look after Emily.

Clamping down, he managed to firm his grip around Tehrazzi’s slackening fingers. A terrible gurgling filled his ears. Fighting through his agony, 288

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Luke jerked the gun from Tehrazzi’s limp hand and turned it on him with his ruined arm, maintaining his hold on the trigger as he turned painfully toward his former protégé.

Through the haze of pain, he stared down at Tehrazzi’s pale face and the ragged, bleeding hole in his throat. The bullet had missed the spinal cord, passing out the side with a baseball-sized exit wound. Severing the jugular vein and carotid artery on the right side of his neck. Mortal wounds, even if there’d been an equipped medic standing by.

Tehrazzi’s body corded, his hands going to his throat, clawing at the hideous wound. Luke shook, the pain and fatigue combining with blood loss and shock. He clung to the desperate will to survive, somehow holding fast to the vest’s trigger.

Wide green eyes stared up at him beseechingly.

Tehrazzi’s lips moved. Froths of scarlet blood bubbled from his mouth and nose. He choked on it, gagging and heaving, eyes rolling into his head for a moment.

Gasping, Luke looked into that young, handsome face, only a few years older than his son’s.

A sound wheezed out amidst the choking noises.

Luke leaned closer. “W-what?”

The lips moved again, rapidly turning blue beneath the hideous gush of blood. Tehrazzi’s eyes bulged. “F-finish...m-me...” The words were slurred, nearly unintelligible.

Ice congealed in Luke’s gut. His hand tightened around the grip of the pistol. He could do it. End Tehrazzi’s earthly suffering and release his soul to Allah. Would be a kindness. One final gesture of mercy for the boy he’d once loved.

But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t make himself take the shot. All he could do was tremble and pant through his own pain as he stared down into those pleading eyes.

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“A-Allah’s...will...” Tehrazzi rattled out, blood flowing from his mouth and throat, pooling around them in a warm, sticky pool. The coppery smell of it coated the back of Luke’s throat.

Before he knew what he was doing, Luke dropped the suddenly heavy pistol and reached up with his injured arm, dragging it up despite the roar of agony tearing from his lips to grasp one of Tehrazzi’s blood-slick hands. Luke tightened his grip and clung to it fiercely, holding his gaze.

Tehrazzi stared back, his fingers closing around Luke’s weakly. Hardly more than a twitch. But the gratitude was there, along with the fear. A sheen of tears filled his frightened eyes. “S-stay,” he wheezed, clutching with the little strength he had left.

Luke nodded once, fighting to hang on. “I won’t…leave you…”

“S-
swear
…”

The raw vulnerability in that plea made tears burn his eyes. He’d loved the son of a bitch. “I swear.” He squeezed harder.

Tehrazzi’s hand contracted around his and he bowed up, thrashing as he choked on his own blood.

Gritting his teeth to stay on his knees and keep the detonator pinned down, Luke held tight to that hand. It seemed to take forever for the rattling gasps to stop and for Tehrazzi’s body to still.

Those green eyes remained open, staring up at Luke’s face even in death.

Exhausted, overwhelmed by the white-hot fire in his shoulder, Luke finally allowed himself to slump down and roll onto his back. Rising above the pain, all his focus remained on holding the trigger.

He held that directive in his consciousness while he sucked air through his nose in shallow bursts.

Where the hell was his backup? Surely to Christ someone was on their way to him. He couldn’t hold on forever.

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His fingers twitched spasmodically around the metal lever. He was too far gone to attempt disarming it himself. The blood loss and shock already had him shaking and queasy as hell.

Then, finally, he made out the sound of a distant motor. Coming toward him.

Thank Christ
.

His left hand twitched again.

Don’t you fucking let go
.

He cranked down on it, the abused muscles in his hand and forearm weak from fatigue. He didn’t want to die. Emily was back at the compound by now. She needed him. And dammit, he needed her.

The goddamn vest was the only thing standing between them now. He’d taken care of Tehrazzi. Had redeemed himself for past mistakes. He wanted it to be over with. Once and for all.

Because he still had to find a way to make up for what he’d done to Emily.

The steady hum of the approaching boat grew louder. He recognized the pitch of it. Knew the skimming sound the distinctive rubber hull made as it skipped across the tops of the waves. A zodiac.

Relief slid through him. The SEALs had finally arrived. Dec and his boys would take care of the bomb.

Hold on. Almost over.

Luke forced his eyes open when someone climbed aboard and the beam of a flashlight blinded him until they hunkered down beside him. The light illuminated Dec’s golden brown eyes like topazes in his camouflaged face.

“G-gotta...hold th-this...” Luke rasped.

Dec grabbed the trigger from his numb fingers.

“I’ve got it,” he said in a low voice, glancing up as three of his men climbed in. With a shudder of relief, Luke shut his eyes and let his left arm flop on the deck, his fingers still frozen in their curled position.

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God, he was going to puke. The pain was merciless, all consuming. The warm, sickening smell of blood made his stomach roll.

Someone knelt next to him and ripped his BDUs open. Luke bit back a howl as the medic probed the wound with his fingers. “Don’t think you clipped the artery, sir,” the man said, ripping open his ruck.

“But I bet you’ve shattered your collar bone and glenohumeral joint. It’s gonna need surgical repair.”

Luke didn’t care. All he wanted was the bleeding stopped and the pain to go away so he wouldn’t pass out. The medic put a steadying hand on the ruined shoulder and someone else pinned his other arm and legs. “Sorry about this sir,” the medic said. “This clotting powder’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Luke gave a curt nod and clenched his teeth together, but when the powder hit the raw wound he bowed up like he’d been electrocuted. “Fuuuuuck!”

he roared, almost welcoming the blackness hovering at the edge of his vision. His whole body was instantly covered in sweat and he jerked against the hands holding him when the medic packed the wound and pressed down hard to stop the bleeding.

“Hang on, sir. Here comes the morphine.”

Luke didn’t even feel the syringe go in, but all of a sudden his body felt lighter, as though he was going to float away. The pain receded. Vanishing into nothing more than a memory. He faded in and out for a few minutes until he lost all concept of time. He was vaguely aware of the men around him speaking in low tones, and of the snipping sound of wire cutters. Knowing he was safe in their hands, Luke let himself go. The words “We’re clear”

registered briefly before he began to sink under. The last of the tension in Luke’s gut dissolved.
It’s over
, he thought blearily.
It’s finally over.

But there was no elation. No sense of 292

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satisfaction that accompanied the thought. All he felt was weariness and relief. And a lingering hollowness that Tehrazzi’s cooling body lay beside him. “Ambulance is standing by,” Dec said from above him. “Let’s haul ass and get him to shore.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, Lieutenant,” the medic said. “Pulse is thready.”

“He’ll make it,” Dec replied. “He’s a tough motherfucker.”

Damn right
.

A moment later the big inboard engine came to life and then the boat sped across the water. Luke lost consciousness sometime during the trip back to the dock. He came to as they were loading him into the ambulance on a stretcher. They’d hooked him up to a saline drip to increase his blood volume. The paramedic was busy checking his vitals.

“A-positive,” Luke mumbled from beneath the oxygen mask strapped to his face.

The man looked down at him in surprise. “Your blood type?”

Luke nodded and closed his eyes again. Em had once joked his blood type matched his personality type. A-plus alpha male, she’d said.

Was she all right? He hoped she was sitting next to a warm fire with the other women gathered around her. He wanted her safe and warm. She was going to need someone’s shoulder to lean on.

Especially when she found out about him. Ben would handle everything. Neveah would make sure she was okay. And Bryn was there to comfort her.

He still couldn’t believe Tehrazzi had let her go.

A lump settled in Luke’s throat as he remembered Tehrazzi’s words before he died. The conflicting emotions rolling through him made his eyes sting.

Somewhere in the hardened shell of a man Tehrazzi had become, a streak of human decency had still 293

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existed. A glimpse into the soul of the wide-eyed youth he’d once been.

He’d recognized Emily’s pain. He’d seen that she’d suffered enough, both from what Luke had done to her and from the cancer. So he’d granted her mercy.

In return, Luke had taken his life.

Stay...

He had. In the hours of darkness ahead of him, Luke could hold onto that. And maybe, just maybe Tehrazzi’s spirit was already with the God he’d loved more than his own life.

The wail of the siren faded into the background.

The paramedic’s voice receded. Releasing his tenuous hold on consciousness, Luke let the darkness take him.

****

Ben’s light green eyes were somber. “He’s in surgery.”

“What?” One hand went to her throat. “How bad?”

“I don’t know all the details yet—”

“Jesus, just tell me what’s wrong with him!”

“Gunshot wound,” Ben replied evenly.

But at least it wasn’t from the suicide vest.

Emily swallowed hard. “Where?” Head? Thorax? One of his limbs?

“I don’t know.”

“But...he’s okay? He’s stable?”

“Yes. Rhys is at the hospital. He’ll give us an update when he can.”

Okay. Take a breath. He’s okay
.
He’s a fighter
. “I want to go.”

“No.”

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His flat refusal made her hackles go up. “I’m a nurse.”

“Not today.”

“He’s my husband,” she argued, not caring that she was stretching the truth, “and I want to be there.”

“
No
. You’re in no shape to go anywhere, and we’re still trying to figure out if the threat’s over.

You’re staying put.”

Bryn rose and set an arm around her tense shoulders. “It’s what Luke would want, Em.”

Barely resisting the urge to throw her friend’s arm off, she choked down the snarl rising in her throat, never taking her eyes off Ben’s. “And what about...Tehrazzi?” She could barely get his name out.