Healing Love: Saints Protection & Investigation (12 page)

Her brow once again knitted in question. He watched in fascination as understanding dawned on her. And anger was quick to follow.

“You? You’re offering me a chance out of this hell if I become your mistress? What kind of man does that?”

“You think that’s a bad thing?” he asked incredulously. Leaning in closely, he said, “You’re a good nurse, Miriam, and a good woman. You need to get this though. I am your only way out of here.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she asked, “You can get me home?”

Guilt flashed across his face before being replaced with irritation. “No. You’re never going home again. They can’t take that risk. But I can offer you protection and a standard of living that you’ve never experienced before.”

The quiet settled around them once again. Exhaustion was overtaking her as she accused, “That’s what you’re offering Sharon, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he admitted readily. “She’s not stupid. She knows what I can offer and is smart enough to take me up on that.”

Placing her hand on the ground, she pushed herself up. Standing on shaky legs, she accepted his hand as he stood with her. Looking into his eyes, she pulled her lips in. “You have to know that’s not me.”

His eyes jerked to the side, his face granite hard. His gaze found hers once more and he said, “I know. That’s why I want to help you. Sharon? She’s just a fuck. Not really even a mistress that I’ll keep but just a fuck I can protect. But you? You’re different.”

“We need to get back.” Turning, she moved toward the jeep and hauled herself into the seat.

Ernesto joined her, shouting to the driver to proceed. She caught him glancing at her during the uneventful rest of the journey.
What does he expect from me? How can he think I would want to stay?
Reaching the compound, she allowed him to assist her from the jeep, not sure if her legs would hold her.

“I can help you,” he whispered smoothly. “You’re determined to be independent, but this place will eventually break you. And when you crack, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”

She lifted her tired gaze to his, knowing her attempt at a glare was underwhelming. Steeling herself, she pulled her hand from his and walked toward her building.
You’re wrong, Dr. Villogas. I won’t break.

Now, it was
evening and Miriam lay in her cot listening to the sounds of Lorainne’s ragged breathing. Sister Genovia had spent the day working over the injured and ill and the evening hours nursing Lorainne. Sharon was nowhere to be seen after the shift in the infirmary.
In fact, I did not see her after Dr. Villogas left.

Lorainne was fading quickly, as though once her will to survive disappeared her body was soon following. Miriam tended her for most of the evening and now Sister Genovia was bending over the ill woman, patting her brow with a damp cloth.

The wind outside was beginning to howl and the window shutters clacked against the force.

Miriam’s eyes met the nun’s as she walked nearby to wet the cloth again. The older woman opened her mouth and closed it quickly several times.

“Are you all right?” Miriam asked.

“I should be asking you that,” Sister Genovia said, referring to the tale that Miriam told her when she returned to the infirmary that afternoon.

No words came and the older woman seemed to understand that. Walking over to Miriam, she bent down closely to her face. “I have seen you with the large man.”

Miriam gasped, her eyes widened in fright.

“No, no, it is all right. You have been completely discrete,” the nun assured her. “I’m more in tuned to others than most.”

Not willing to admit anything, wanting to trust Sister Genovia but the events of the day still too fresh to face betrayal, she just stared into the warm eyes holding her gaze.

“If God gives you an opportunity to leave this place, you must take your chance at freedom.”

Miriam’s gaze darted over to Lorainne’s cot.

“You cannot hold out hope for anyone else, my child. Lorainne will soon be joining God and my duty is to keep her comfortable until that happens. Sharon has made her bed and will lie there until she realizes it is not all that it seems. But you? You must take whatever opportunity you can to find freedom.”

Miriam opened her mouth to speak but found no words came, so she sucked her lips inward. A short nod of her head was all that she would give. Sister Genovia patted her arm and then stood, walking back over to Lorainne’s cot. Now she knew sleep would not come easily. That was the last thought she had before exhaustion took over and she fell into a fitful slumber.

*

Marc placed the
video conference call to the Saints. Luke immediately patched him through and he could see Jack’s face on the monitor.

“What d’you got for us?” Jack asked.

“Cam’s going to try to get her out tonight. A huge storm is coming in and, while the weather will hinder their travel, it will also make tracking them difficult.”

“Who’s he bringing in?”

“Just Miriam. The others are no longer able to travel,” Marc reported. The video camera panned back and he could now see Bart and Blaise at the table as well. “How’s your case?” he asked, referring to the serial killer case they had been working on when he and Cam were reassigned.

“Got him. Details will wait until you’re home.”

Nodding, Marc agreed. “I’ve got several landing places that I can try to get to once they’re out but, until the storm lets up, I’m going to be grounded.”

Bart commented, “So the thing that gives Cam a chance to get out will also put you on the ground? Jesus, that’s fucked.”

“In case my plane can’t work, I’ve got my contact here who says I can have use of a helicopter.”

Jack nodded, “Good. Use whatever you can from him. With you and Luke having been in the CIA, he’s using contacts to make sure you can get what you need and feeding into your man there.”

Finishing their conference call, Marc checked his phone one more time. Nothing from Cam, but maybe that was a good thing—it meant he was on the move.

T
he howling wind
began around dinnertime, forcing the men to eat inside of their tent. Cam had just enough of the drug added discretely to the jug of beer sitting on the makeshift table to make the men slightly ill, which would force them constantly outside the tent seeking the latrine.

Within fifteen minutes, one by one of them felt nauseas and rushed outside. By now the pelting rain was coming down, making the paths muddy and forcing all others to seek shelter.
Perfect. This is perfect
.

He slipped out of the back side of the tent, the dark night and pouring rain masking his movements. It took him almost thirty minutes of jogging to approach the compound where Miriam was located. He stayed in the shadows of the trees lining the road, finally seeing the tall wall and gate ahead. The rain pounded his broad shoulders and ran rivulets down his face. Wiping his eyes he could see that the regular guards that stood around the outside of the gate had sought shelter. He scanned the left side, trying to discern the best way to scale the wall. A copse of trees was near the compound on that side, so he headed toward them.

Looking left and right, he was now out of sight of the guard shack but was uncertain if there would be others walking the perimeter. He stayed still for a long time but was finally convinced the perimeter check was not occurring, or it was not going to happen in the dismal weather.

He chose the closest tree and climbed it quickly, maneuvering out to the branch that was nearest to the wall. Tying a thin rope to the limb, he attached the lose end to his belt.

Several attempts later he managed to get his large body swinging so that he was able to propel himself from the limb to the top edge of the wall. He grabbed the concrete with all of his strength, hauling himself up to the top.

Lying flat, he scanned the area once more, blinking the water from his eyes.
Not a soul around.
He leaned over and counted the buildings from the gate. The third one was almost right in front of him.
Right side on the front,
she had said.

Taking the thin rope from his belt he let it drop over the edge of the wall. Not using the rope, he swung his body over and dropped to the ground. Thankfully the small splunking sound his feet made in the mud appeared to go unheard.

The area was cast in shadows, more dark than not, and it was easy to slip between the two buildings. The rain fell in sheets, driving everyone inside. Reaching the front corner, he peered around the corner and saw a small, empty courtyard in front. Unable to believe that there were no guards, he realized that without aid, the nurses would not be able to escape on their own, therefore the security was lax.

He slipped to the window at the right corner room and could see a sliver of light coming from inside. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he wedged it in the slit between the shutters and lifted it slowly. The blade caught on the small shutter latch and as he raised the bar from its catch, he was able to free the shutters. Barely creating an opening just wide enough for him to peek in, he saw the nun kneeling by the bed of the ill woman. Even from a short distance with rain still running into his eyes, he could see the deathly pallor of the nurse.

Moving slightly to the left he was able to see Miriam in a cot, her back to him. Another cot was empty, it’s blanket undisturbed. Miriam was rolling over, her eyes open and staring at her two roommates. Swinging her legs over the side, she stood and moved toward Sister Genovia.

Knowing time was of the essence, he whispered, “Miriam.”

Hearing a noise coming from the window, she looked up at the same time as the nun. They both gasped, grabbing on to each other as he leaned his head in slightly so that the dim light from the candle in the room shone on his face.

“Cam!” Miriam whispered, rushing forward. The rain was continuing to pelt down on him and she grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

Using stealth in spite of his large body, he hauled himself over the window sill and deftly closed the shutters behind him. Turning quickly, drops of water flung off of him and onto the floor.

“It’s now. We’ve got to leave now. The guards are all gone and no one will look for us for a while.”

She looked behind her at Lorainne lying at death’s door and her gaze flew to Sister Genovia’s, who had walked over to the window as well.

“I…can’t…I…” she stammered.

“Oh, yes you can,” the kindly nun pronounced. “I am old and cannot make the travels, even if I wanted to. My job is to stay and see Lorainne safely to the arms of God.”

Miriam’s tortured expression tore at Cam as he reached for her. “You cannot help Lorainne by staying here. Sharon has made her choice and,” he turned toward Sister Genovia, “I swear I would take you if you were willing.”

She smiled and grasped his arm with surprising strength. “No. My place is here. Miriam’s place is with you.”

He held her gaze for a moment, wondering at the double meaning in her words. Mentally shaking himself, he moved toward Miriam. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered honestly. “What do I need?”

He scanned the room quickly. “Do you have some type of bag or sack? I have one that I made but we could use another. One that you can sling over your shoulder or wear as a backpack.”

Her eyes immediately widened and she whirled around, rushing to her cot. Reaching underneath, she pulled out the green drawstring sack, emboldened with the Red Cross, she had been given and allowed to keep.

Sister Genovia nodded in approval and moved to Lorainne’s cot, pulling hers out from underneath as well. Handing it to Cam, she said, “Lorainne will soon be with God. She will have no use for this now.”

Nodding his thanks, he dropped to the floor and placed his items into the sack, thankful that the material was water resistant if not waterproof. Looking up at Miriam, he ordered, “Fill it with any food you have here, your towel, any toiletries you need, and a dry pair of scrubs.”

She obeyed without question, her heart pounding in rhythm to the rain on the roof.
We’re finally going. I’m finally doing something.
The fear of the scene she had witnessed this morning was fresh on her mind, knowing if they were caught that would be their demise. Still squatting, she jumped as Cam’s hand assisted her to stand. Facing him, she forced those thoughts from her mind.
We’ve got a chance. That’s all that matters.

“Sister?” he said, as the nun turned toward him. “If asked, you fell asleep trying to care for Lorainne and the last you saw was Miriam in bed. She had complained about being sick to her stomach and you knew she had gone to the bathroom several times in the night.”

Smiling, she complied. “I can do that easily enough.”

“And, I’m not telling you anything about our plans. I can’t. You understand?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “If I don’t know, they can’t make me tell them.”

“Exactly.” Turning to Miriam, he said, “This isn’t going to be comfortable, but you gotta know that the worse the weather, the longer we have to stay hidden and get outta here.”