Deep Rising (An Outside the Lines Novel) (Entangled Select) (13 page)

“Keep pressing,” he told her. “No! Look at me, Lana! Keep your eyes focused on mine, you hear?”

“Am dying…not deaf.”

“Shut up! You aren’t dying!” He pressed his hand over hers. With his free hand, he fumbled through the bag. He extracted a giant syringe and pulled the cap off with his teeth. He plunged the point into the gaping hole in her arm.

A gel-like plastic epoxy sealed off the wound. The plastic left a foul smell in the air, blending with the acrid scent of blood and death. By the time Jared finished his ministrations, Lana tenuously clung to consciousness. “Stay with me, darlin’!”

Her eyes rolled back into her head. “The bomb, Jared.”

If she died, he didn’t think he could bear it. If she died
alone,
he knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. But deep down, he recognized she was right. Despite the tightness in his chest, he left her. He stumbled away, taking the tool kit with him. His left leg throbbed as he approached the bomb.

Three distinct compartments required a screwdriver to open them. He twirled the Phillips head and flicked away the screws. Opening the partition, he saw a series of wires that necessitated cutting. Jared abruptly discovered a trip line, and he carefully avoided snagging the trap.

The clock ticked off the seconds.

He couldn’t afford to lose this race.

His heart pounded so hard against his lungs, he expected to expire on the spot. Outwardly, his hands proved steady, his movements concise. He unscrewed the inner housing, pulled out another mottled collection of wires. He shoved the pliers between his teeth. He traced each wire, looking for the ground. The rainbow was represented, with a dozen various shades thrown in. You never paid attention to the colors, he knew. The colors were intended to deceive.

“Step away from the bomb!” a soldier yelled.

“He’s one of ours,” a familiar voice shouted.

Jared cursed. He’d nearly sprung the trip line. “Don’t fucking distract me!” he roared. “See to the girl.”

Following the four main wires to the clock, Jared determined the lead from the ground. He traced the main wire back to the power source.

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled. “You bastards rigged this one too well…”

Forty seconds remained.

He probed the power canister for the safety. Every bomb had one. It formed a fail-safe, and an outlet for splicing and changing over to an alternate energy supply.

Twenty-eight seconds.

He needed another tool. The wire he needed to remove featured a tiny screw anchoring it in place.

“Help me here, guys!”

Evan appeared at his side. “What do you need, Jared?”

Sixteen seconds.

“A flathead screwdriver. Small.”

Evan handed him the instrument.

“Smaller,” he hissed.

Eleven seconds.

The correct tool appeared. Switching the wires into his left hand, angling away from the trap, Jared twisted his wrist until he feared it would snap, bringing the tiny screwdriver between the lines. He fitted it to the screw, turned left. One revolution. Two.

Eight seconds.

He kept turning, waiting for the screw to wobble so he could wrestle the wire free.

“Five seconds!” Evan warned.

Another revolution. He tugged.

Half a turn more. The screw trembled.

Three seconds.

Jared ripped out the wire.

The timer blinked twice, flashing. The console screen went blank.

“Whew!”

Feeling light-headed, Jared shoved back from the crate. He spun, searching for Lana. He took two steps toward her before his leg buckled.

Evan caught him. “Easy, big fella.”

“What?” Jared mumbled.

“I can see how a bomb and a beautiful woman might distract you, but how did you neglect to notice getting shot?”

“Good question,” Jared replied, and fell flat on his ass.

Chapter Sixteen

September 13 - 2:36 pm

Hilo, Hawaii

Having used crutches before, once for a broken ankle as a teenager, and then again about eight years ago for a bullet through his right tibia, Jared was fairly familiar with the uncomfortable contraptions. He absorbed the pressure with his arms, swung his leg forward, and hobbled along the deserted hospital corridor. The motion bothered his shoulder and the area surrounding a previous gunshot, but luckily for him, the brain could only process a limited number of pain receptors at one time. For now, his leg took priority.

He stopped outside Lana’s door. Grabbing her chart from the wall, he skimmed the doctor’s notes. She’d lost a lot of blood, her condition remained critical, and the doctors had already performed three separate surgeries to save her arm.

He returned the chart to its hook and pushed into the room.

“Should you be up?”

“Should you be here?” Jared shot back.

Evan shrugged. “I thought you’d want me to keep an eye on her until you were able to.”

“It isn’t like that,” Jared insisted.

Evan laughed. “No? You know I was a bit dense in coming around too. But I married my damsel in distress. What are you going to do with yours?”

Jared shrugged. He didn’t have a clue.

“It’s damn good to see you.” Evan thumped Jared on the back.

“Seeing you at the lava tube was a godsend.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

Jared propped his crutches against the wall and approached the bed. He balanced his weight on his right leg and leaned toward Lana. He brushed aside her hair, lifting the heavy strands from her face. She turned with the contact, instinctively seeking his touch, and Jared caressed her cheek.

“She’s a rare one,” Evan told him. “Courageous women are scarce. Hell, valiant men aren’t so common these days.”

“This was my last mission. My sister, Julia, died in a car accident. She has three kids. Someone needs to take care of them.”

“’Bout time you wised up. You’ll miss it every now and again but—”

“Is that why you came? Boredom?”

Rolling his shoulders, Evan stepped to the opposite side of the hospital bed.

“No, asshole. I came because Gordon told me you were going it alone. Or maybe you think I don’t care about my friends?”

Jared raked a hand through his hair. “Shit. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… Thanks, Ev.”

“Saving your ugly hide was only half the battle. I read the MO on Sergei Aleksandr. I knew you could handle it, but with so much at stake I couldn’t chance something going wrong.”

Lana stirred. Her body flinched and she mumbled incoherently.

Evan punched the release button on the scheduled morphine drip.

“What are you—?”

“Doctor’s orders, Jared.” Evan softened his voice. “She’ll be fine.”

Jared nodded, unconvinced. But Lana’s breathing leveled and after a few seconds she ceased thrashing and resumed sleeping.

“If you were wondering, I followed up with the Cleaning team. They said that Sergei’s body and his comrade’s carcass were found halfway down the back trail, riddled with bullets.”

That last bit was an intentional jab, but Jared didn’t take the bait. “I wasn’t lining up my shots with a CheyTac. Galen’s the pro when it comes to snipes and close combat. If he wanted the hits to be pretty, Gordon should’ve called him. Besides, if it takes me three shots to bring a man down, I reckon I don’t care much, so long as he stays there.”

Evan smirked. “Speaking of our buddy Galen, he’s trying to find my wife’s associate. She was kidnapped in Roraima.”

“Busy week for you. What happened?”

“Selene’s a field researcher. She was obtaining samples somewhere out on a tributary of the Rio Negro. Next thing we hear, her pharmaceutical house is suggesting she just took off. As though she up and got herself abducted on her own accord. They haven’t heard from her and have no intentions of trying to negotiate on her behalf.”

“Bastards.”

“Yeah. American girl, alone in Brazil, the kidnapping capital of the world, hey, it isn’t really surprising.”

“Look, I’d go with you, but…”

“It’s under control. No offense, but with a bum leg, you wouldn’t be much good in the jungle anyway.”

“Prick.”

Evan grinned. “You’re so easy.”

Jared snorted.

“Justice is served. Retire while you can.”

“I plan to,” Jared admitted. “I’m here if you need me. Whenever you need me.”

He watched Evan head for the door.

The man turned, saluting him.

When the door to the hospital room closed, Jared remained standing at Lana’s bedside. Staring down at her, he helplessly willed her to wake. A nurse came, changing the empty IV bag for a full one. She shot Jared a withering glare, staring first at him and then his leg, which he’d received explicit orders to keep elevated.

“My apologies, ma’am.” He hobbled away from the bed and retrieved a chair. He dragged it to the bedside. Positioning himself in the padded armchair, he lifted his leg, resting it on the foot rail.

“Better?”

The older woman nodded and left the room.

When he once again found himself alone, Jared twined his fingers with Lana’s. According to her charts and the doctor’s prognoses he’d demanded, she looked to make a full recovery. But what if she didn’t? The knowledge terrified him more than any other obstacle he’d ever faced.

He touched her hand. “I was cruel to you, and I’m sorry.”

Lana didn’t respond.

“I had to be objective. It’s my job. But I never meant for you to get hurt.” He squeezed her fingers, stroking the pulse in her forefinger and thumb. “In all my life, I’ve never regretted my decisions. But I regret doubting you.”

He’d shown her very little kindness, and she’d made the ultimate sacrifice on his behalf. Thinking about this woman taking a bullet aimed for him, knowing she was innocent and had been from the start, caused his stomach to heave and his chest to constrict. “I should have been nicer,” he admitted. “I wanted to strike a balance but try as I might, I couldn’t.”

Her skin remained pale, her lips colorless. Bruises marred the sides of her face; scratches spanned the skin visible above the hospital blanket. God, he wanted to take away all her pain. He wanted to slide her out of that hospital bed and into his arms, and just hold her.

She was lucky to be alive. They both were.

“You’re a fighter, Lana,” he murmured. “You keep fighting.”

The heart monitor beeped in response. Her pronounced breathing pounded in the complete silence of the room. He glanced at the oxygen tank, opened the line a bit more, and pushed the tube against her nose. Running his fingertips along her brow, he traced the smooth skin of her face. A scrape on her forehead glistened with salve. He hoped for her sake it wouldn’t leave a scar.

“You won’t care though,” he whispered. “You’re too strong to let that slow you down.”

He lowered his head and kissed her knuckles.

A familiar sound broke into the rhythmic drone of hospital machinery.

His cell phone rang, and Jared let it chime a few times before he released Lana’s hand and reached for it. It was selfish of him to wake her when she needed to rest, but the apprehension he experienced would not abate until she opened her eyes.

The ringing persisted, and a glance at the screen displayed a recognizable number. “Yes, sir?” he said, intentionally raising his voice as he answered the call.

“How are you?” Gordon asked.

“I’ll live.”

“The girl?”

“She’d better.”

“Excellent. The Special Ops team at the Thurston Lava Tube brought in the bomb. The bodies will be shipped to Langley. In order to verify Sergei’s identity we’ll need a DNA sample from Lana’s father. We sent a team to sweep his house. Once the hair and cell samples are obtained, we’ll have confirmation. The doctors mailed Lana’s clothing to me. The blood will give us preemptive results.”

“What about the SEAL team on Hawaii?”

Gordon expelled a deep breath. “It’s a grave loss. We’re investigating what went wrong. Sergei’s associates were in place for three days or more. We scanned the traffic cameras on the island and were able to pinpoint Sergei’s arrival. These terrorists were already in position. They made our SEALs before they even descended into the park.”

Yeah, but taking out a trained team of twelve of the baddest operatives on the planet wouldn’t have been easy. And it had been done without sounding an alarm or the SEALs calling for backup. It was possible, he supposed, but unlikely…

“I conferred with General Greene,” Gordon continued. “Tyler Houston’s SEAL team successfully intercepted The Wolf’s stockpile of atomic weapons. We believe The Wolf is connected to these attempted bombings, and capturing him remains our highest priority.”

Well, duh, he’d seen the surveillance photos of The Wolf selling the bombs to Sergei. If the SEALs had confiscated The Wolf’s cache of weapons, then, presumably, the asshole weapons broker would be without weapons to sell. At least for a short while. Jared was confident the CIA would be able to apprehend The Wolf before he scored additional bombs.

“More good news.”

“Yes. Congratulations, Jared. And thanks. Once we have confirmation, I’ll forward your release papers,” Gordon said. “Good-bye and good luck.”

…

Two days later, Lana woke for the first time. Her mouth felt as if she had swallowed a bowl of sand, and her eyes felt caked with it. Her arm throbbed, pulsing with a sharp, shooting pain. She surmised it could be nerve damage or her body’s reaction to the severity of her injuries. She willed her fingers to move. She tapped her fingertips against the rough bed linens, and received a torturous burst of sensation in reward for her efforts. Piercing pain aside, at least her fingers were all there.

At one point in the recesses of delirium, she’d overheard the doctors discussing what to do about her arm. Jared had lingered beside her bed, she vaguely recalled, arguing for the medical experts to save her limb or they’d answer to him. She owed him for this, she supposed.

She tried again to swallow. A tickle in her throat caused her to cough. It sent the most brutal ache pounding through her chest.

“Easy, darlin’,” a deep voice murmured. “Let me raise the bed first. Then we’ll get you some water.”

“Chest hurts,” she rasped.

“I know. You caught a bit of lead. Lucky for you the Dragon Skin didn’t let it pierce through.”

“Feels like it did.”

Jared shifted an arm behind her shoulders and assisted her to a sitting position. He pressed the cup to her lips.

Lana took a sip. More ice than water filled her mouth.

“Better?”

“Hmm.” She regarded him for a moment, stifling the initial surprise she experienced at his haggard appearance. Deep circles ringed his eyes. His cheeks appeared gaunt, his mouth compressed. A large bandage coiled around his head, another cuffed his left arm, where blood seeped through, creating an ugly reddish-brown stain. “You look like hell.”

He shrugged. “I got banged up a bit, but you took the brunt of the damage.”

“Give it to me.”

“Cracked sternum, three bruised ribs—which may have come from me rolling on top of you,” he admitted.

Lana managed a smile. “Fitting.”

“One bullet directly through the biceps and humerus. Oh, and you’d lost seventy percent of the blood in your body before you reached the hospital.”

“Ouch.”

“It didn’t help that you’re A negative. You should’ve mentioned it sooner.”

“At the time it wouldn’t have mattered. You thought I was in league with Sergei. You were ready to kill me yourself.”

“About that,” he murmured, capturing both her hands. “I want to apologize.”

“It isn’t necessary.”

“It is. You see, I wanted to believe you were innocent so badly I couldn’t trust my own judgment.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” His thumbs caressed her fingers, delicately tracing the thin bones.

“Have you slept at all?” she asked him.

“Some.”

She eased one hand from his grasp and lifted her palm to the side of his face. She rubbed along his beard. He’d remained by her side through it all, she realized. He could’ve taken the opportunity to rest, or leave, or see to his own needs, but he hadn’t. Jared twisted his head to the side, and Lana stayed motionless as he kissed her palm. Her hand tingled. A delicious little shiver shot up her arm.

“I’d like to take care of you,” he said. “If you’ll let me?”

“Jared, are you sure—?”

Before she could say more, his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face so reverently it brought tears to her eyes. There was relief in his kiss, such joyous relief that it reminded her how very close they’d both come to death.

He drew back an inch, pressing small kisses to her cheeks and chin and brow. “Lana,” he whispered. “I thought I’d lost you…”

When he rested his forehead against hers and stayed there, breathing her in, she knew she would say yes to whatever he asked.

Things seemed different between them. He no longer cloaked his expression, his feelings. Even his Southern accent seemed more pronounced. A heartfelt promise lingered in his eyes. The barest hint of insecurity drew his brows together. It was like meeting a different person. This open and honest Jared bore no semblance to the covert agent she’d grown accustomed to.

“Let me take care of you, Lana.”

Dare she let him in? She’d taken a hell of a gamble in the lava tube, risking her life. Now he wanted her to go a step further and put her heart in his hands. His expression suggested that something more than obligation or a sense of responsibility motivated him, but she would not presume to know what provoked Jared to stay by her side or want to remain there.

“You don’t have to,” she said. “Your job is done. Mission completed, hero.”

“Actually, you earned the title when you raced a terrorist and took a bullet meant for me.”

“You would’ve done the same.”

He kissed her again, soft and slow.

Oh, this was nice. There was—
finally
—tenderness along with the heat. And when he looked at her, his beautiful eyes promised her the safety and comfort she’d been sorely denied in these last days. She really wanted to jump at what he was offering. To jump straight into his arms and let him hold her until all the fear and pain just melted away.