Never Surrender (13 page)

Phillips nodded, pointing behind the Chinook. “Get her and yourself onto that first medevac!”

As Gabe was halfway to the Black Hawk, two medics leaped out of the helo and raced toward him. Fear and grief riddled him. He stumbled, nearly fell, holding Bay tight against his body. Righting himself, Gabe met the two men. One was older, maybe late thirties, the other younger.

“Let us take her,” the older medic yelled above the cacophony.

“No way,” Gabe snarled at them, pushing past them and into a trot. Only fifty feet to go and Bay would be on a litter. Then, they could help her.

The older man turned, gripped Gabe’s arm, steadying him as he ran. “This way,” he yelled as they hit the rotor wash pummeling them with eighty-mile-an-hour blasts as they drew near the medevac.

Gabe bowed his head, protecting Bay. Brush, dirt and dust kicked and swirled violently around them. He was grateful for the older medic’s guiding hand on his arm, pulling him toward the lip of the helo.

There, Gabe climbed in, gently depositing Bay on the litter strapped to the bulkhead of the bird. And then he shoved himself quickly to the rear, allowing the two medics to instantly hop on board. Gabe grabbed a helmet and pulled it on. Plugging the connection into the ICS panel, he’d be able to communicate directly with the two pilots and medics.

The older medic’s last name on his flight suit read Taft. Gabe gasped for air, sucking it deep into his burning lungs, his eyes never leaving Bay’s white, unmoving face. Taft pulled on a helmet and put the mic to his lips.

“Head wound,” Gabe told him, his voice unsteady. “Left side, temple.”

“Roger that, sir.” Taft lifted his head after a swift examination of Bay. “Casevac,” he told the pilots. “Bagram. It’s a nine-line. Redline this bird. She’s critical.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Gabe felt the Black Hawk break earth, the gravity pushing down upon him. He opened his eyes, breathing raggedly, watching the two medics quickly cutting away the sleeves on Bay’s cammies, exposing both her pale arms. Feeling as if he were in some kind of unending nightmare, he watched Taft push an IV into each of her arms. The younger medic named Marbury followed the older’s directions quickly and efficiently. Sobbing for breath, his back throbbing painfully from the Kevlar hit, Gabe bowed his head, his hand across his face, tears falling.

Critical.
Bay was critical. He couldn’t lose her! He just couldn’t! No matter what Gabe tried to do, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. The roar of the helicopter covered his sobs that wrenched unwillingly out of his chest. He simply couldn’t conceive of life without Bay in it. Her soft, shining eyes, her full lips, her husky laughter riffled across his heart and memory. Bay had always lifted him and made him feel happy for the first time in his sorry-assed life.

He heard Taft’s voice tense as he snapped orders to Marbury. Gabe lifted his wet face and watched as the medic placed a blood pressure cuff on her upper right arm. Taft leaned over her, listening to her heart through his stethoscope.

Only now was Gabe beginning to realize the terrible damage done to Bay. The entire left side of her face was swollen, nothing but purple-and-red bruises, her left eye swollen shut. What kind of hell had she endured? Gabe knotted his fist, wanting to kill whoever had done this to her. He was racked with murderous rage.

His life focused only on Bay. Taft took the dressing off her head, peering intently at the head wound. Gabe couldn’t read his taut expression. The medic quickly cleaned the area, replacing it with a dressing, wrapping gauze around her head. Her light brown curls looked stark against the white bandage.

Gabe’s gaze moved down across her limp body. It was then he saw dark blood staining her trousers on the insides of her thighs. A groan tore out of him. Gabe felt a new kind of terror ripping through him. And Taft found it in his examination of her. Bile rose in Gabe’s throat as he watched the medic quickly cut her trousers from ankle all the way up to her waist. The other medic did the same on her other leg. Old dried blood along with bright red blood coated the insides of both her thighs all the way down to her calves.

Gabe turned away, unable to watch as Taft went to examine the source of her bleeding.
Why?
Why had they done this to her? A wrenching scream worked its way up through him. Gabe’s cry was drowned out by the thundering sounds of the helicopter. He turned away, head pressed against the cold metal of the bulkhead, his eyes jammed shut. Hot tears fell down his tense face.

Gabe felt like a coward by turning away when Bay had bravely faced her captors head-on and he had not. When he turned back, he could see that several warm blankets had been placed across her lower body, tucked in around her waist. Taft’s face was filled with fury. Their gazes briefly met. Gabe felt his whole life slipping, tumbling into free fall. The medic didn’t have to say anything. The look on his face said it all. He knew Bay had been raped....

A
T
B
AGRAM
HOSPITAL
,
Gabe followed the gurney bearing Bay into the emergency room. He wasn’t going to leave her side. Taft quickly gave the stats to a young woman doctor with red hair and green eyes. The name embroidered on her white coat said Captain S. Guardian. Gabe wondered if it was some kind of sick joke being played on him as he stood, gripping Bay’s cold hand. Waiting. Waiting again.
God, hurry. Do something for her! What the fuck is taking so long? Get your asses in gear!

Dr. Guardian glanced over at him, then gave orders to her nurses, turned and thanked Taft.

Taft nodded and then went over to Gabe.

“Sir, she’s got a chance of making it. Okay? Do you hear me?” His eyes burrowed into Gabe’s.

Those were the sweetest words Gabe had ever heard. Turning, he looked over at the lean medic. “Th-thanks...I appreciate everything you did for her....” He choked up, his eyes burning with unshed tears, unable to speak.

The medic gripped his shoulder. “Hang in there, sir. She’s got you fighting for her. Never surrender.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

G
ABE
SAT
TENSELY
in the surgery lobby of Bagram hospital. It had been four hours since Bay had been wheeled into surgery. Four of the longest, most torturous hours of his life. Dr. Guardian was a neurologist, and he hoped against hope her name really meant every word of it. Right now, Bay needed a guardian, someone who could pull her out of death’s embrace and bring her back to him.

He was so immersed in his grief over Bay that he failed to even hear Dr. Guardian approach until she touched his shoulder. Gabe jerked, his head snapping up, automatically going into a defensive posture.

“Whoa, Chief, take it easy, I’m not the enemy,” she said, stepping away, holding up her hands.

Gabe’s heart pounded with adrenaline as he regarded the red-haired doctor with suspicion. When he sensed her fear, he instantly forced himself to relax.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “How is Bay? Is she going to make it?” He tried to read the woman’s large, compassionate green eyes. She wore light blue scrubs, the cap still over her head, the white mask hanging around her neck. Her hair was in a ponytail and contained within a fine, white netting.

Dr. Guardian pulled up a chair opposite him and sat down. Her face was somber as she regarded Gabe. “I understand you and Baylee Thorn are engaged?”

He swallowed, a jerky nod of his head. Gabe was afraid to try and speak, feeling his throat close off, afraid of what she was going to tell him. He tried to prepare himself. He could face a damned firefight, his heart slow and steady. He could kill in close-quarters combat without remorse. But this was worse. Much worse. Gabe had no training for it. No experience on how to cope. He was a mass of unraveling emotions.

Reaching out, Dr. Guardian placed her long, graceful hand over his dirty forearm. “She’s going to live, Chief. The problem is she had a bullet graze her left temple. Her skull is fractured. The good news is, it didn’t tear the sac surrounding her brain, but she’s still got swelling in that area.”

“That’s good. Right?” He held her gaze, wanting her to say yes.

“Very good, Chief. I’ve placed Bay into a medical coma, and we’re aggressively treating her with drugs to lower the swelling. If the brain swells too much, it can cause even more brain damage or kill her. We would have to go in long before that happened and remove part of the skull plate to allow it to swell and not cause damage and kill her.” She seemed to notice his shock and quickly added, “But that’s not going to happen. I’m keeping Bay here at Bagram until I’m convinced we have that swelling under control. Then, I’ll cut orders for her to be flown into Landstuhl Medical Center in Germany. They’ve got some of the finest neurosurgeons in the world there. Bay is going to need very close monitoring. But more from the drug side, not the surgery side. She will be monitored and then, slowly, brought out of her induced coma when they’re positive her brain isn’t swelling any longer.”

Her fingers tightened a little around his arm. Her touch was steadying when he felt as if he was internally flying apart. “That’s all good news, too?” he managed to croak.

Dr. Guardian frowned. “It is, but, Chief, your fiancée is in for a long, rough recovery. Any time the brain is traumatized, it has to have time to recover.”

“What does that mean?” Gabe growled, hating not hearing what the bottom line meant.

“Probably amnesia. Either some or a lot. We just don’t know which yet.” Her eyes turned sad, her voice lowering. “Right now, Dr. Jeffrey Hartly, one of our finest surgeons, is repairing her other injury. He’s the best.” Sarah looked down, as if bracing herself for the next bit of news. But there was no way to soften the blow that was coming. “Bay was raped. Dr. Hartly is repairing a two-inch tear to her vagina. In time, Bay will heal up and be fine. The worst is the trauma due to the rape, Chief. That’s not something we can fix because that involves her emotions and mind. She’s going to need time, therapy and an awful lot of love, understanding and support from you.”

Gabe’s insides turned into jelly. He wanted to vomit but instead swallowed convulsively, several times, fighting back the reaction. Dr. Guardian’s eyes were warm with understanding, and it helped him to try to think instead of just howling like the hurt animal he was. “They beat the hell out of her,” he rasped between tight lips. “Her face...”

Dr. Guardian released his arm and sat up. “Yes, Bay has a broken nose and a closed fracture located on her left cheekbone. She went through a hell I can’t even begin to imagine, Chief. Bay has some damage to her larynx, too.” Her voice lowered in regret. “I think they tried choking her to death, or at least close to it. Probably torture...”

Gabe’s eyes glittered. “Yeah, if you want to hold a woman down, you grab her by the throat, shut off most of her air and she’s not going to fight you as you rape her.” His voice shook with rage. As a SEAL, he had been taught how to control another person. Holding them by the throat, nearly shutting off their oxygen until they were close to losing unconsciousness, stopped them from fighting back. He wanted to hit something. Anything. His hand curved into a fist and never had Gabe wanted to punch out something so badly as right now.

“Bay’s bruises are going to disappear in another two weeks,” Dr. Guardian told him soothingly, holding his shattered, angry gaze. “Her bones will knit in probably five weeks. The swelling on Bay’s face will recede in the next three weeks. The surgery to her vagina will heal in six weeks.” Her voice turned gentle. “What Bay is going to need from you is to be there for her. Bay’s whole world got destroyed. You love her, Chief, and I’ve no question that she loves you equally as much. You’re going to have to be the strong one here. Don’t overreact to how she looks when we bring her out of that coma at Landstuhl. See her as she
was,
not as she is now. And just understand she’ll return to how she looked before this happened. Let your love for Bay guide your heart with her, support her and give her hope. Don’t make her feel ugly. She’ll feel enough of that anyway because of the rape.”

Shutting his eyes tightly, Gabe trembled inwardly, and he couldn’t stop it. He could control everything, but since Bay had been injured, his emotions ruled him. He felt the doctor stand, lifted his head and stared up in her direction. There were tears in her eyes, and it shook him deeply.

“Listen, Chief, you need to go get cleaned up. I was told by my medic Taft that you took a hit to your Kevlar. You need to be examined, too.” Her voice grew husky. “Bay will be transferred to a private room in about two hours. You can stay with her. We’ll have a chair brought in so you can sleep in the room and remain at her side. It’s a funny thing, people in a coma or who are unconscious will tell me after they wake up that they knew who came into their room, and it always gave them comfort. They need a gentle touch, a soft voice...” Dr. Guardian smiled a little, her voice strained. “Just know that your presence, your touch, your voice, is healing for Bay. It will give her hope. And if you have any questions or need anything, ask the nurse on duty or have me paged. I’ll be there.”

As Gabe listened to the surgeon, he found himself believing she had Bay’s best interests in mind. His mouth flexed, and he swallowed. “Yeah, I hear you, Doc. Thank you,” he managed, his voice low and hoarse. “Bay is lucky to have you right now....”

Moving to his side, Dr. Guardian rested her hand briefly on his slumped shoulder. “Keep your faith, Chief. Prayers are good. We’ve got a small chapel here if you’d like to use it. I’ll be seeing Bay on my morning rounds.”

Gabe sat there, feeling gut shot. His stomach churned with rage so hot and burning, it felt as if it was eating a hole straight through him. He wanted to hunt down the bastards who had done this to Bay. And it wouldn’t be a clean or quick death, either. His hands curved into fists, and he closed his eyes, never having experienced rage and love so intensely as right now. Gabe suddenly stood up, hurrying across the hall to the men’s restroom. Barely making it, he grabbed the sides of the nearest wash basin, leaning over and heaving his guts out.

* * *

L
ATER
, G
ABE
FELT
clean but exhausted. He’d gotten a set of new SEAL cammies from the SEAL HQ at Bagram. They had heard through Chief Phillips that he was here on base with his wounded fiancée. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for him, a brother. And Bay was treated as family, as well. Best of all, one of his oldest friends, Mike Tarik, who had gone through BUD/S with him, was there with his platoon. Mike was more than a classmate. He was someone Gabe could let down and talk to. Mike had taken him to the locker room, which would be private. There, Gabe had babbled on like a frightened ten-year-old boy, the fear and anguish in his voice as he told his friend the short version of what had happened.

Mike had gripped his shoulder afterward and told him he was there for Gabe and for Bay. If either of them needed anything, he’d come at a moment’s notice. That was how the SEAL family operated, and for the first time in his life, Gabe was now on the receiving end of it. Before, he’d helped other SEALs, their wives and children. Now, it was his turn to be helped.

He promised Mike he’d ask for help, though SEALs weren’t very good at asking for anything. Mike grinned and swore he’d haunt him if he didn’t and promised to drop over to the hospital and relieve him when he needed to take a break from sitting at Bay’s bedside. Gabe told him that wasn’t necessary because he didn’t want to be anywhere else other than with her. For a split second, he thought he’d seen tears in Mike’s eyes. And just as quickly, they were gone. It left Gabe rattled, hurting and struggling to keep his emotions in his kill box.

After connecting with the SEAL unit, Gabe made a call from their HQ to Poppy, Bay’s mother. She’d already been notified her daughter was missing in action. Poppy cried with relief to hear Bay had not only been found, but was alive. Gabe told her about her head wound, but not the rape. It was just too much to hit a person with all at once. Besides, he couldn’t talk about it himself; he was too emotional right now to deal with it. He’d break down sobbing on the phone and that was not what Poppy needed.

He called his own mother, Grace, to fill her in. She had cried, too—for him—because she knew how much he loved Bay. Gabe avoided the rape issue with her. And he didn’t tell his mother any details about Bay. It was top secret, and he couldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone, not even Poppy or her.

Gabe felt ripped open again after making those two phone calls. Mike grabbed him by the arm, powered him through HQ and outside to a Humvee. He drove him back over to the hospital, deep concern in his face for his best friend. Gabe didn’t want to leave Bay alone. She’d been alone all those days when she was a prisoner, and his heart told him to be with her as much as possible. He knew Bay would feel his presence, knew she would sense him nearby, the intense protection and love he so desperately wanted to give to her.

His sweat, blood and dirt had been washed away beneath a hot shower. The clean SEAL uniform, clean hair and a shave gave Gabe a look of normalcy to those who saw him walking the halls of the hospital. But looks were deceiving, and Gabe had put on his game face, that SEAL mask, betraying no emotion to anyone. Inside, he felt as if there was a fucking war going on, his guts twisting and writhing until he felt so much pain that he wanted to double over and scream. It was a combination of grief, rage, loss, fear and confusion all balled together. But no one would ever know. When people saw a SEAL coming, they gave him room. They were accorded damn near rock god star status in the military world. And, hell, yes, they’d earned that status in giving their blood and, sometimes, their lives.

Gabe halted outside Bay’s room, getting ahold of himself as never before because he knew she would feel him nearby. Taking several deep breaths, returning to his sniper mode of operating, Gabe calmed all his emotions. He wanted Bay to feel only his love for her. His whole life, every miserable cell of his being, was focused on her, nothing else.

Nurse Trudy Turner, a pert blond Army lieutenant, smiled brightly as Gabe quietly entered Bay’s room.

“We just transferred her over here, Chief Griffin. You have great timing,” she told him, keeping her voice low as she checked Bay’s IV one last time. Trudy pointed to a black leather recliner chair sitting next to her bed. “And that’s for you.” She smiled a little and came around the end of the bed. “There’s a buzzer attached to the side of Bay’s pillow. Press it for anything you might need.”

Gabe nodded brusquely. “I appreciate it,” he managed in a gruff tone, his gaze never leaving Bay’s pale face.

“Me or one of the other nurses on duty will be checking on Bay every three hours for the first twenty-four hours, Chief.” She quietly closed the door behind her.

Gabe rubbed his face, exhaustion beginning to pound him into the ground. There was no more adrenaline to keep him clear, alert and functioning. His body was shutting down. Mike had asked him earlier when was the last time he ate. Gabe couldn’t honestly remember. Mike had tried to get him to eat, but, hell, he couldn’t keep anything down. It didn’t matter anyway. Gabe haltingly walked over to Bay’s bedside, his gaze clinging to her.

Bay’s face was so translucent. He could see fine veins beneath her closed eyes, those soft, long lashes unmoving against the paleness of her flesh. The bruising scared the hell out of Gabe. Without the dirt and blood encrusted across her features, she presented the brutality of her capture vividly, for the first time. Knees weakening in reaction, he sat down in the chair, slipping his hand into her limp one. Unable to speak, feeling tears prick his eyes, he compressed his lips, swearing not to cry. He’d cried more in the past twenty-four hours than he had in his entire previous life.

As he stared at her hand, Gabe marveled again how long and beautiful Bay’s fingers were.
Healing hands.
Anyone she touched always felt better for it. He knew he did. Closing his eyes, he pictured her sweet, soft smile, her blue eyes shining with gold highlights in their depths. He swore he could hear her husky, lilting laughter tumbling through the halls of his mind and heart.