Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #2 (23 page)

He was in Afghanistan again. He could still see the flashes of an explosion, hear Darren's screams. His best friend had become one of the statistics. Sixty million mines were still left unexploded in seventy countries...sixty-five people maimed or killed every day...

He forced his mind to focus on what was going on.

“Get me some more light,” Maddie shouted as she started cutting off the clothing around the wound.

“What can I do?” Grant asked.

“We need to get the wound cleaned and covered. There's clean, boiled water, covered in pots behind you.” Her hands shook as she turned to one of the men. “I'll do everything I can to save your son, but I want you to promise to let us go once I get him stabilized.”

“You're in no position to bargain, because I'm the only one keeping you alive right now,” he said, holding her gaze. “So if my son dies...you will all die.”

THREE

G
rant held up one of the lanterns in order to give Maddie the light she needed to work. He avoided the boy's panicked gaze, trying unsuccessfully to distance himself emotionally from the situation. His emergency training had taught him the basics of what to do, but the clinical instructions were never the same as experiencing them firsthand.

Especially when it was personal.

“What's his name?” Maddie asked the older man in Portuguese.

“Jose.”

“Jose... I'm going to do everything I can to help you, but I need you to stay strong. I need you to say with me.”

Memories flashed. With Darren, he and his teammates had done everything they could to save his life. But by the time the helicopter had arrived to evacuate them, too much time had passed. Darren had gone into shock, and it had been too late to save him.

“You need to get him to a hospital.” Maddie addressed the father while she worked to control the bleeding with direct pressure. “I can try to stabilize him—for now—but he'll die out here in the bush without proper medical treatment.”

The older man's fingers gripped edge of the table where his son lay. “I warned you, and I meant it. If my son dies... I will kill you.”

“You're not listening to me.” Maddie added another layer of fabric around the wound. “I don't have the antibiotics, let alone the tools to do vascular repairs. And if he makes it, he'll need outpatient and occupational therapy to regain as much function as possible. I can't do any of that here. You've got a plane... It's your
only
way to save his life.”

“Oumar...” A woman ran up to where they were working and let out a loud wail when she saw the boy. “Oumar, no...they told me what happened. What have you done to our boy?” She turned to the older man and started beating his chest. “You let this happen to him.”

He grabbed her hands, ordering her to stop. “I haven't done anything. He knows better than to go play in the woods.”

“You're his mother?” Maddie asked.

“Yes.” The woman pulled away from her husband and grabbed the hand of her son, her dark eyes filled with panic.

“He needs to go to a hospital where they have the equipment to treat him. He will die if he stays here.”

“Please, Oumar. You must do what she says. She is a doctor.”

He stepped away from the table and spat something into the radio before turning back to Maddie. “Then you're coming with me—”

“No.” Maddie clenched her jaw. “I'm staying here.”

Grant caught the flash of fire in her gaze despite the marked fatigue in her eyes, and knew exactly what she was thinking. Their best chance to stay alive was to stay together.

“No?” The older man aimed his weapon at Maddie. “No? If you don't go with me, then I don't need you anymore. Any of you.”

“Wait.” Grant grasped Maddie's wrist and stepped in front her. “That's where you're wrong. You have a camp full of sick men, which means you still need her here. Antonio and I have medical training. We can help as well.”

The man shook his head. “If I leave her here, you'll help her escape again.”

“Oumar, please.” Jose's mother grabbed his arm, pleading with him. “There is no time for fighting. Jose will die while you stand here arguing. And your men as well. They're right. You need them here.”

Grant felt his lungs expand. He held his breath as they waited for the old man's response. The tension felt as thick as the humidity. His fingers closed tighter around Maddie's wrist until he could feel her heart's rapid pulse. He knew she was scared, but he hadn't flown halfway around the world to fail, nor did he have any intention of breaking his promise to her brother. One way or another, they were going to get her out of here.

“Fine.” The old man dropped his hands to his sides, the situation defused for the moment. “I'll leave you here—all of you—alive for now. But I will deal with you when I return.”

He watched as the older man began shouting orders to the other men. A makeshift gurney was rigged, and orders were sent to the pilot. Grant turned around to face Maddie, slipping his hand down her wrist until their fingers touched. With his other hand, he reached out and wiped her damp cheek with his thumb.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

“For now.” She looked up at him, eyes wide open. “But this epidemic is going to be under control soon. And after that...they won't need us.”

He pulled her a few inches closer. “We're going to get out of here.”

She nodded, clearly wanting to believe his words as much as he did. “I owe you one. More than one, actually.” A smile briefly crossed her lips before she pulled away from him and started washing down the table with disinfectant. “If nothing else, you bought us some time.”

He worked beside her to clean up, impressed with the way she'd gained control over the situation. She asked one of the women to make a diluted mixture of cooked cereal and water for the cholera patients she'd been treating, while several of the men headed into the forest with Jose. He realized he'd misjudged her strength. There was no doubt her parents loved her. They spoke of how smart and accomplished she was, but they'd been against her coming here. Believed she was wasting her God-given talents and wouldn't be able to handle the work.

But they'd been wrong.

He'd seen the courage in her eyes. The boldness it had taken to stand up to her captors. Maybe it was true that difficulties brought out hidden strengths in a person, but there was more about Maddie Gilbert than met the eye—something that part of him wanted to stick around and discover even after all of this was over.

But that was something he couldn't afford to do.

She turned to him, breaking the silence that had fallen between them as they continued working. “You were there when Darren died.”

It was a statement rather than a question, but one he'd never spoken of with her. After the funeral, he'd answered her parents' questions about that day, knowing if Maddie ever needed those same answers from him he'd be there to tell her.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I was there.”

“Did tonight remind you of that day?”

She might not have been there that night, but she had to be facing some of the same haunting images of losing her brother he was.

“Yes. It was...almost as if I was there again, during those final moments.”

A place he dreamed about at night. A place he longed to escape.

She scrubbed at an invisible mark on the table. “Two weeks after I arrived here, I had to treat my first land mine victim. All I could see was Darren.”

“Somehow we didn't think it could happen to us. We were out to save the world. Invincible. Always wishing we could ignore the fact that all it took was one wrong step...”

She stopped to look up at him, allowing the light from the lantern to catch the yellow-copper colors in her eyes. The soft curve of her lashes. “Thank you,” she said.

Grant fought to push away the unexpected draw. “I haven't got you out of here yet. I told your mom I planned to have you back by Christmas, and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep my promise.”

“It's hard to believe Christmas is in a couple weeks.” A look of sadness registered on her face. “But I'm not just thanking you for today. I'm talking about your being there the night Darren died.
And
for coming to rescue me. You didn't have to come.”

He touched her arm briefly before pulling away. “Yes, I did. I owe Darren.”

He might not have been able to save his friend, but he
was
going to save Maddie.

“Is that why you came to rescue me?” She asked. “Because of Darren's death?”

His face must have betrayed his thoughts for her to ask such a pointed question.

“No...I...” He didn't know how to answer. He didn't want to answer. Because she was right. He'd come to play hero and make up for not saving Darren. Which meant he hadn't come for noble purposes. Not really. He'd come to ease his own conscience.

Her gaze shifted back to the table and, as if reading his thoughts, she said, “I know what it's like to do something good for the wrong reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

“I came here, in a way, because of Darren, too. I was looking for what he found with his career. I hoped that somehow helping others would help me find that missing part of myself.”

“And did you?”

She shrugged at the question. “It depends on the day, I suppose. I came here convinced I'd save the world. Instead I've had to realize I can't fix everyone. People are going to die, and I can't stop it.”

Like Darren.

“But then,” she continued, “there are times where I think I'm making a difference in one person's life and somehow...that's enough.”

“Darren was always so proud of you.” Grant dropped the rag he'd been using into the bucket of soapy water they'd been using to clean up. “He talked about you all the time. His little sister studying to become a doctor.”

Her smile lit up her face this time. “I like to think he would have been proud of my coming here as well. My parents weren't too happy about my decision, though. I was supposed to marry Ben, join some swanky family practice and spend the rest of my life working nine-to-five and having their grandbabies. And while there's nothing wrong with that, it wasn't enough for me.”

He watched her wash her hands and then motion to one of the women to get more boiled water while she grabbed bags of salt and sugar for the rehydration mix.

“Can you hand me those cups?” she asked him. “With no Google available out here, thankfully I have the measurements memorized.”

He watched her work, jumping in to assist when she asked. He couldn't help but see the irony in the fact that her skills as a doctor had saved her. And yet as soon as the epidemic was controlled, there was a good chance they would kill her.

“I guess this wasn't what you imagined when you signed up with Doctors International,” he said.

“Being kidnapped? Not exactly.” She let out a soft laugh as she started mixing up the drink for her patients. “Though the past few months haven't been without challenges, either. Most of the time, I've been working up north, in a small rural hospital. Every day, I see the same thing over and over in the maternity ward. It's stifling inside. There are rusty ceiling fans, but no electricity. In the US, one in just over two thousand women will die giving birth. Here, it's one in less than twenty. Most don't even consider going to a clinic. And even if they do, most—especially those in the rural areas—can't make it to the hospital.”

He knew the issues she faced on a daily basis. Diesel generators were the primary source of electricity in the capital, and that lack of infrastructure spread throughout the entire country. There was one functioning hospital and even there equipment was limited. Most of the country's health facilities had no electricity. Generators came to life during surgery, but there wasn't enough fuel to run them continuously for refrigeration to store blood donations or for incubators for babies born too soon.

“But that's not the entire picture,” she continued. “I see the smile of the children when I go out into the villages to teach preventative care, and the love the mothers have for their babies. Old men sit on mats outside thatched roofs, playing with their grandchildren, while chickens and goats run around. It's a completely different world than the one I grew up in. But when I sit down and talk to the women about their pregnancy, or the babies they've lost and the children they're trying to provide for, I realize just how similar we really are.”

“I've discovered the same thing everywhere I've lived. Most of the differences pale when you start working together to make things better.”

“I wish my parents could understand that. I've tried to share with them why I needed to come...and why I still want to be here.” She stopped and looked up at him. “But I haven't asked you about them, because I know they can't be taking this well. Do you think they're going to be okay?”

Her unspoken question hovered between them.

Were they going to be okay if she didn't make it home alive?

“They're scared,” he said. “They will do anything to get you back. Because they've already lost one son, and they don't want to lose you as well.”

She nodded. “I watched their reaction to losing Darren. I never meant to put them through something like that again.”

“You're not going to, because we're going to find a way out of this.”

He watched her continue to work, realizing that she was different from most of the women he knew. Most were happy with the dream of a white picket fence and a husband. Problem was, he'd never be able to give someone those things. And so far had never found anyone who was willing to break that mold with him. Maddie, though, was clearly different.

Maybe when all of this was over...when life went back to as close to normal as possible, he'd consider finding a way to get to know his best friend's little sister...

She glanced at a couple of the armed guards as they walked by. “As soon as we're done here, I need to talk to you about something. Privately.”

“About?” Her statement brought him back to reality.

Her hand moved to the locket hanging around her neck. “Information connected to what's going on here.”

* * *

An hour later, Maddie walked toward the fire, fighting the exhaustion coursing through her body. Her head throbbed and her legs felt like jelly. But it wasn't just the physical fatigue she was dealing with. The emotional strain of the past few days was taking its toll.

She'd finished making up the rehydration mix and checked on each of the patients she'd been treating. While antibiotics would have shortened the duration of the symptoms, ensuring each person was rehydrated was what mattered most. “Are you done?” he asked.