Hot Rebel (27 page)

They’d gone over a dune, which wasn’t necessarily a problem if you knew to expect it, but she wasn’t sure that Nick had known. Still, he rolled the wheel back and forth, keeping the Jeep as straight as possible as they rocketed down the side of the massive ridge.

When they hit the bottom, the Jeep bounced hard. Victoria thought her teeth would come out of her head as her jaws cracked together.

Nick whipped the wheel left and pressed the accelerator. They bounced along, parallel to the dune, the lights shining on nothing but sand and more sand up ahead.
 

Victoria gripped the rifle tighter, ready to blast anyone who got in their way.
 

“How did you know it was the opposition?” she asked.

“Lucky MacDonald.”

“What?”

“A teammate who’s fluent in several dialects. She taught me some useful words and phrases. Not to mention the way everyone panicked—that was a dead giveaway we shouldn’t stick around.”

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” The desert was rolling by fast, but there were no landmarks, no indication they were even going the right way.

“North. If we outflank the opposition army, we can rejoin the highway a few miles up the road. If we’re lucky.”

She wasn’t sure they would be, but she’d have done the same thing in his place. It was best to get away from the crowd and not get funneled into a trap somewhere they couldn’t escape because of all the traffic. “We need a backup plan.”

He shot her a glance. “I’m listening.”

“I’m thinking.”

They seemed to be the only ones taking this route. For all they knew, this trench between dunes was taking them east or west, not north—but it was a chance they had to take.

Victoria gripped the dash and prayed they’d get out of this alive. Something flashed in the distance. She fixed her gaze on the spot and tried to determine if there was something out there or if it was her imagination.

But then it flashed again and she knew it wasn’t her imagination.

Nick had seen it too because he turned the Jeep and started toward the opposite dune. They were nearly there when gunfire sounded—and the Jeep careened out of control before coming to a bone-jarring stop in the sand.

“Nick!” She unclipped her seat belt and scrambled toward him, afraid he’d been hit. He turned his head, his gleaming eyes meeting hers.
 

There was a trickle of blood running down his cheek.

“Are you hit? Talk to me!”

“Shoulder,” he said.
 

She turned him as much as she could. The blood on his cheek was spatter. The blood oozing from his shoulder was much worse.
 

Victoria turned and scrambled for the packs. They had first aid, and she found it quickly. She couldn’t search the wound for the bullet now. All she could do was staunch the flow. She ripped open the field dressing.

“Go,” he said. “Run.”

“Fuck no,” she growled, applying the field dressing to the wound and securing it. She didn’t have time to inspect it or rip his T-shirt first. This would have to do until they could get somewhere safe.

“Victoria, get the fuck out.”

“Only if you come with me.”

He studied her in silence.

“Nick, for fuck’s sake, let’s go.”

“Copy,” he said.

She reached over and opened his door. Then she opened hers and ran around to help him out of the Jeep. He had one foot on the sand when she got there.

In the distance, she could hear the roar of an engine and voices shouting in Arabic. But she didn’t see anything yet. They’d hit the dune face-first, burying the front of the Jeep into it. The battery had been disconnected in the impact, most likely, because there were no lights to illuminate the interior. Thank God for modern safety features.

Nick climbed the rest of the way out and stood there tall and strong. “We have to take as much of this as we can.”

“I know.”

She got busy shoving the seat forward and throwing the packs onto the sand. Nick grabbed two and put them on his right shoulder. His left would be out of commission, of course.

Victoria lifted everything she could and slung it over her shoulders.
 

“Leave the rifle,” Nick said when she hefted it.

She shook her head. “If we get a chance, we can use it to pick them off. No way am I leaving it here.”

“We won’t get that far, Vic. They’re coming too quickly.”

“Just go! Let me worry about the damn gun.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered. But he turned and started trudging up the side of the dune, tracking away from the Jeep and the rapidly approaching enemy forces.

Sweat streamed down her face as she climbed the sand behind him. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest as her lungs dragged in air and her muscles burned. If she felt like this, what must he be feeling with a gunshot wound added to the burden?

He reached the top of the dune—and stopped so quickly she plowed into him from behind.

“Get down,” he ordered as he dropped and dragged her down with him.

Victoria lay against the sand, panting, her eyes stinging with sweat. “What is it?”

“A patrol.”

“On the other side of the dune?”

“Yeah. Not leaving anything to chance, I guess.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”

She reached for the rifle case and started to unzip it.

“Assemble it but don’t fire. It’s possible they may not spot us up here.”

“For God’s sake, I know that as well as you do. Stop giving me orders.”

She put the rifle together quickly and aimed the night-vision scope. She had to belly crawl up the dune a little ways to do it, but what she saw made her pulse kick up. Three big trucks, filled with fighters, rolling south. Maybe they were headed to Ras al-Dura. Maybe they were just trying to cut off the road and stop the flow of supplies into the southern quadrant.

Or maybe they were after the uranium mine. It was well guarded, but it was certainly a target in this war.

The trucks were going slow, but they didn’t show any signs of stopping. Victoria’s blood pounded in her ears, her throat.

They might just make it. If they lay here quiet and still and waited, they might be okay.

She turned to say something to that effect to Nick. But before she could get the words out, a spotlight shined on their position, illuminating them for the soldiers below.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Victoria tried to turn and aim the rifle, but it was too late. The men fired in the air and someone shouted something in Arabic.

“He said get up,” Nick told her. “And drop the gun.”

“I’d rather shoot him.”

“I know, baby. But even if we could see them, I’m no help right now.”

She knew what he meant. Without the two of them firing, the chances they’d be killed were even greater if she started to shoot. Though she hated to do so, Victoria flung the gun away and stood slowly. She was still armed—Nick was armed too—but she put her hands in the air and waited for the men to approach. A glance at Nick told her he was feeling the effects of his wound pretty badly. He grimaced as he tried to hold his left arm up.

A surge of emotion flowed through her. She wanted to stand in front of him and fire on all these bastards, but the light was too bright and she couldn’t see them approaching. She had no idea how many there were or where they were. Firing would be suicide. Nick knew it as well as she did.

So they stood and waited while the men approached.
 

“Drop your weapons,” a heavily accented voice said.
 

Victoria glanced at Nick. The light was still in their faces and she could tell they had no chance. She was squinting as she reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol. Nick removed two pistols and dropped them.

“And the legs,” the man said.

Victoria bent and slipped her weapon from her leg holster. Beside her, Nick was fumbling for his. But he got it and dropped it.

“Kick them away.”

They both did as told, then the light dropped and someone ran forward to collect the weapons. Other men strode forward and grabbed the two of them. Victoria winced as her arms were jerked behind her back and tied with cord. If they were treating her so roughly, she feared for how Nick was handling this with his wound.

She managed a glance at him. His face was agony, sweat pouring down and soaking his T-shirt. Or maybe that was blood. Victoria shuddered.

The man holding her thrust her forward. She would have fallen if he hadn’t jerked her back. He rushed her down the dune, then picked her up and tossed her into the back of a truck.
 

Before she could get up and look for Nick, he clambered into the truck and sank down beside her. Her heart hammered and her mouth felt gritty and dry. Swallowing hurt.

“Are you okay?” she asked as several men climbed in the back of the truck with them.
 

A door slammed and the vehicle lurched into gear. The men seemed uninterested in them now that they had them captured and tied. One of them took out a pack of cigarettes and passed it around.

“Yeah,” Nick said, his voice hoarse.

She couldn’t really see his face in the darkness, but she could tell by his voice that he was in a lot of pain. She couldn’t reach for him to find out if his shirt was soaked with blood or sweat, and worry tightened her chest.

Victoria couldn’t reach for his hand, but she managed to shift herself until she could press her thigh against his. She shivered and he moved his leg just slightly in what she thought was meant to be a caress.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the truck’s panels. “We had a good time, didn’t we, PB?”

“The best, honey.”

“It’s not over,” she said on a fierce whisper. “I refuse to let it be over.”

*
 
*
 
*

“What time did the SOS come in?” Mendez demanded over the speakerphone.

Billy Blake answered. “Midnight, sir.”

Everyone looked at each other, their expressions grim. They’d just spent one long-ass night and an even longer day in this shit-hole of a place, holding Ian Black and getting fucking nowhere while they waited for permission to haul him back to base. Echo Squad had carefully checked everyone leaving the consulate grounds. There’d been no vials of smallpox on any of them, including Ian Black.

Either Chernovsky hadn’t brought it with him, or it was still inside the consulate. One diplomatic phone call to the Russians, and it was their responsibility now. Not that Garrett had much faith in their ability to secure it after they’d let it get out of a top-security lab in the first place.

He was on edge and fucking ready to punch something or kill something, he didn’t much care which.
 

They were at the airport, ready to climb on their transport, when Brandy’s locater signal popped up on the secure link. They’d quickly gotten on board but delayed taking off while Billy Blake did his magic with the trace and Richie called Mendez.

“Fucking hell,” Mendez breathed. “Where is he?”

“Two hours north by air, sir. And moving south.”

Moving this way
if
Brandy was still in possession of his equipment. Or dead somewhere and someone else was moving this way. They all knew what the possibilities were, though none of them would say it.

“Find him, boys. Bring him and Miss Royal back.”

Richie shot a look toward the cockpit of the C-130. “This pilot has a hard-on to return to Baq. We’ll need you to run interference, sir, if we’re changing the plan.”

“Goddamn Air Force,” Mendez grumbled. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.”

The line went dead. Richie looked determined as he studied their faces. “You heard the man. Let’s figure out where our teammate is and bring him home.”

*
 
*
 
*

Victoria didn’t know how many hours they were in the truck or how far they traveled, but they eventually came to a halt near a cluster of mud-brick buildings. They’d reached a road a while back, for which she was thankful since it meant Nick wouldn’t be jostled so much.

At one point he’d stopped answering her questions when she spoke to him, and she’d nearly panicked. But then he’d snored, and relief melted through her that he wasn’t dead. Now the tailgate of the truck fell open and men jumped down, talking loudly. It sounded like a reunion out there.

Nick stirred, and she leaned into him carefully so he’d know she was still with him.

“We’ve stopped.” He sounded groggy.

“A village of some sort. I think…”

One of the men still in the truck jabbed her with a rifle. She took it as a sign to stand. Her legs were numb after so much sitting and the vibrations of the truck, but she managed to get to her feet with only a little swaying.

Nick had to be jerked to his feet, and her heart hammered at the rough way their captors treated him. Soon they were both on the ground and being hustled into one of the mud-brick buildings.