Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dirk began pulling gear out of the bags he had taken from the chopper. His ribs were aching, but he didn't think they were broken. The cut on his head could use a few stitches, but they'd found a first aid kit in the helo and Meg had helped him construct a butterfly bandage that would have to do. He'd have a scar, but he had plenty of those already.
“We've got a couple of one-man tents and a pair of sleeping bags,” he told Meg. “Water and a couple of MREsâthat's meals ready to eat. They're not too bad in a pinch. Elliott had a GPS and batteries in his gear bag. Looks like he carries a Glock nine mil. We've got plenty of weapons. Might be able to hunt up some food if we run out. I found blankets and a big canvas tarp in the helo.”
He went back again to the old Sikorsky Elliott had been flying, scrounged around, brought back a handful of water bottles and a few more MREs.
Dirk walked over to Luke. They had immobilized his shoulder and packed ice around his ankle; best they could do for now.
“The radios are down,” Dirk said. “No help there. The satphone took a hit. Case is smashed. It won't send, so we can't call anyone.”
“Leave it on. It might be transmitting a signal. Maybe someone will pick it up.”
Meg walked up just then. “Nick went to Chile on the jet. He's going to know something happened to us when we don't make it to the airport.”
“Unfortunately he'll start looking in Argentina,” Luke said. “He'll figure something went wrong with the op.”
“We can't wait for someone to find us,” Dirk said. “Not with Elliott's head injury and being low on supplies. We need to get the camp set up. Put up the tents and get everyone ready for the cold tonight. Elliott wisely chose to dump the chopper in the snow. Judging from the angle that blade sheared off, he probably saved our lives.”
“Yeah, that was some flying,” Luke said. “Amazing we didn't end up crashing into the side of the mountain.”
Meg shuddered. Dirk shot a warning glance at Luke and put an arm around her shoulders. Meg didn't need to be reminded how close she had come to dyingâagain.
“Unfortunately we're going to freeze our asses off if the wind comes up,” Dirk said. A flurry of snow whipped off the ground, proving his point.
He studied the terrain beyond the snow line, where the ground was ruthlessly steep and covered with dense forests and heavy vegetation.
“According to my GPS,” he said, “we're only about fifteen miles from a road. If Luke and Elliott weren't injured, we could walk the hell out of here.”
Luke sat up a little straighter. “Are you kidding? I just need to make myself a crutch and I'm good to go.”
Meg rolled her eyes and Dirk grinned. “You need to stay here, keep Meg and Elliott safe. I'll head out for help. You can hold the fort till I get back.”
Luke raised a dark eyebrow. “So you trust me with your woman?”
Dirk grinned. “After seeing what she did to Gertsman and you not being a hundred percentâyeah.”
Luke laughed. It was a good sound, one that promised everything would be okay.
“Let's get this place tricked out,” Dirk said. “Then I'm out of here.”
* * *
By noon Dirk was ready to leave the camp. Elliott was conscious, with a pounding headache and fighting nausea. Without his helmet he was a good-looking, dark-haired man, powerfully built, with dark eyes, a strong jaw, and a cleft in his chin. Meg had used the snow to make an ice pack for the back of his head.
They'd used broken pieces and parts and cut up upholstery from the chopper to immobilize Luke's shoulder and get his arm in a makeshift sling. He downed a handful of aspirin from the first aid kit with a swig of water, then insisted Dirk make him a crutch out of a long strip of heavy aluminum he found.
Dirk figured a way to pad one end with chunks of foam rubber, and though Luke's shoulder must have been hurting like a bitch, he was hobbling around the camp as if the funny-looking crutch was attached to him.
They put up a lean-to against the relentless sun beating down on the glaring snow, and managed to locate a couple of pairs of sunglasses. Dirk shoved Elliott's wraparound shades over his eyes and walked over to pitch the tents and get the sleeping bags ready. There wasn't much they could use for a signal fire, but he did the best he could, then soaked the debris with fuel dripping out of the chopper.
He strapped on a backpack he'd loaded with his GPS, a water bottle, and some energy bars. He'd run out of bullets for the Walther so he was carrying Elliott's Glock. His palm-sized .22 rode in his front pocket.
Gertsman's men had missed it. The little gun had been part of his escape plan as he'd walked down the hall with Neville, a desperate plan at best. Thanks to Helmut Mueller, he hadn't had to try it.
He was ready to head out when Meg walked up to him. “I wish I could go with you.”
“You aren't dressed for it, baby. Those boots have to be killing you, and the truth is, you'd just slow me down.”
She pressed her lips together and he could see she was fighting not to cry. “I know.” She looked into his face. “I need to tell you something. You don't have to say it back. I just ... I love you. Iâ”
“Jesus, Meg, you picked a piss poor time for this.” Dragging her into his arms, he kissed her long and deep, ending the conversation. “I've got things I need to say to you, too, but not here. Not now. Not until we're out of here and safe. Yeah?”
“I just ... I wanted you to know.”
“Dammit, I love you, too. I wish we were somewhere else. Somewhere romantic so I could say it right.”
She smiled, leaned up, and very softly kissed him. “You saved my life. There's nothing more romantic than that.”
“Yeah?”
She smiled. “Yeah.”
“We still have a lot to discuss.”
“I know.” She kissed him sweetly. “Please be safe. I don't want to lose you again.”
Dirk started to tell her not to worry, that nothing could keep him from coming back. He'd spent weeks in the mountains of Afghanistan. The Andes were higher, just as harsh and remote, but he knew what he was doing. He had to get Meg safely home to her son. That was reason enough for him to return.
A distant sound caught his attention. It was the distinctive whopping of a chopper. Hope surged through him. He looked up to see a helicopter coming straight toward them. Dirk threw his hands in the air and started waving. Meg was jumping up and down, waving her arms and shouting.
“Light the fire!” Dirk shouted across the camp, but Luke was already crouching down on the snow, setting the fire ablaze.
“They see us!” Meg shouted. “They're circling!”
Dirk watched the big red search and rescue B-429 hover, then sink lower, finally settle itself gently on the snow. When the heavy doors slid open, Nick Brodie jumped down from inside, followed by a two-man medical team who headed straight to where Elliott lay on the snow.
“Man, am I glad to see you,” Dirk said as Nick walked toward them.
“Not as glad as I am to see you.” Nick leaned in and clasped his shoulders in a solid man hug.
Meg hugged Nick, and Luke hobbled over to join them. “Good to see your ugly face, cuz. How the hell did you find us?”
Nick smiled. “The satphone. Sadie's been keeping track of our movements all along. When the signal stopped just over the border on this side of the Andes and you didn't show up at the airport, I figured you were in trouble. Sadie charted your last location and I called search and rescue at Puerto Montt. It's one of Chile's SAR bases, only seventeen miles from the airport at El Tepual.”
“So as usual Luke was right,” Dirk said. “I'm damned glad you were on the jet instead of with us on the chopper.”
Nick smiled at Luke. “Yeah, and I'm sure he'll never let us hear the end of it.”
Luke just grinned.
It didn't take long for the rescue operations people to have Brandon Elliott secured and aboard, then Luke. Meg refused to go, determined to stay till the helicopter returned to bring Dirk and Nick out of the makeshift camp, along with what they could gather of their gear.
By the time the second group had reached the El Tepual airport, Luke had been patched up, Elliott had been admitted to a nearby hospital, and Interpol had phoned, clearing their way through customs. They owed Helmut Mueller again.
Once aboard the G6, Dirk settled next to Meg. He reached for her hand and held on tight, and Meg snuggled against him. She fell asleep on his shoulder before the jet surged up off the tarmac.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Meg paced the floor of her living room. It had been five in the morning Seattle time when the jet set down at Boeing Field, sixteen hours after leaving Chile.
Ron Nolan and two other FBI agents were waiting, along with an agent from the Department of Justice, the branch of U.S. law enforcement that worked with Interpol. The agents swept everyone on the plane directly into intimidating black SUVs with dark-tinted windows and drove them to FBI headquarters.
Meg had been separated from the men and questioned for hours, then released into the care of her dad, who drove her back to his house. She'd worried about Dirk, Luke, and Nick all the way.
Her mom and Charlie were waiting, hugging her and making her cry again, this time with joy. She sat on their living room sofa with Charlie on her lap, keeping him close, which for once he didn't seem to mind. Wisely, her parents hadn't told him about his mother's kidnapping or anything about where she was. He was just having a nice little visit with his grandparents, which Charlie had loved.
Though she had been missing for several days, there'd been nothing on the news, nothing in the papers. Interpol was still working the Gertsman case and they were determined no information would be leaked before they were ready.
Jonathan remained in custody. Apparently the international nature of the crime made him a flight risk. He wouldn't be getting out on bail.
After lunch, still tired though she'd slept for hours on the plane, she'd let her dad drive her and Charlie back home. She had phoned Mrs. Wills and told her that she was safely returned, but asked her housekeeper not to come over until the next day.
Meg needed time to unwind, as well as time with her son. And she was worried about what was happening with Dirk, Luke, and Nick.
Would the FBI arrest them? Her father had said the bureau had threatened retribution if they got involved in the kidnapping case. A rescue mission to Argentina definitely qualified as that. Her dad had a team of lawyers on standby in case the worst happened.
Meg glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel in the living room for at least the hundredth time. The afternoon was ticking away, a cloudy, stormy day that matched her mood. Rain was predicted. She could hear the wind whipping the branches against the window.
“Time for your nap, sweetheart,” Meg said, lifting her son into her arms and holding him close.
“Where's Dirk?”
“He'll be over later.” Meg prayed that was true, that he wouldn't be in jail. She carried Charlie upstairs and put him in his youth bed, and he snuggled into his pillow.
For hours he'd been chattering about how much fun he'd had with Grandma and Grandpa, oblivious to how close his mom had come to dying.
He yawned and closed his eyes and she leaned over and kissed him. “Sleep tight, sweetie.” Since her arrival at her parents' house, her little boy had worn himself out regaling her with tales of getting pizza, going for ice cream, and playing on the merry-go-round at the park. He was sound asleep in seconds.
Meg wandered back downstairs, feeling lost without her cell phone, which was somewhere in the white van the FBI was still trying to locate, along with the men who'd abducted her.
She wished Dirk would call. There was a landline in the kitchen. Twice she had almost phoned his cell, but she didn't think it was a good idea to call him while he was being questioned at FBI headquarters.
She meandered aimlessly around the kitchen, then heard the sound of footsteps coming up on the porch.
Let it be Dirk,
she thought,
not the FBI with more questions
.
Hurrying toward the door, she paused to look out the front window, saw Dirk's orange Viper parked at the curb, and her heart jerked. Quickly opening the door, she didn't wait for him to come inside, just threw her arms around his neck and hung on hard.
His hold tightened around her. “Hey, baby.”
She eased back a little. “I was so worried. I was afraid they would arrest you.”
His arms still around her, Dirk walked her backward into the house and closed the door. “The investigation's still ongoing. They didn't want the news media breaking the story. They'll probably have more questions, but Interpol vouched for us and it looks like we're all in the clear.”
A sigh whispered out. “Thank God.”
Dirk glanced around. “Where's Charlie?”
“I just put him down for his nap.”
“He okay?”
She smiled. “He had a great visit with his grandpa and grandma. That's all he talked about. It wore him out.”
“Good, then he'll be asleep for a while.” Something hot came into his eyes. “I know we have a lot to discuss, but it's going to have to wait.” He slid a hand behind her neck, tipped her head back, and very thoroughly kissed her.
“I almost lost you, baby. When I found out you'd been kidnapped, I went a little crazy. I forced myself to focus, to keep what might be happening to you locked out of my head. But it was nearly impossible to do. After everything that's happened, I need to be inside you. I need to feel you deep.”
Meg's throat tightened. She didn't wait, just leaned up and kissed him. In Argentina she'd thought she might never see him again. “I need you, too.”
Sliding his hands into her hair, he took her mouth in a fiery kiss, cupped the back of her head to hold her in place, and just kept kissing her. She could feel him rock hard against her. She understood his need, felt it, too.
They had almost died. She needed Dirk to make her feel alive again.
Dirk took the kiss deeper, hotter, stronger, lifted her a little and wrapped her legs around his waist; then he carried her into the family room. The backyard was fenced so no one could see them. Before she'd been a little shy about making love in there, but today she didn't care.
By the time Dirk set her on her feet next to the big overstuffed sofa, she was on fire for him. Meg framed his face in her hands and kissed him, felt the roughness of his sexy horseshoe mustache, reached for his long-sleeve T-shirt and pulled it off over his head.
Muscles rippled across his carved, powerful chest. His eyes were hot and dark as he reached for her, a man on a mission. In seconds he had her sweater and bra off. Meg toed off her sneakers while Dirk tugged down her skinny jeans and panties and tossed them away. She reached for the zipper on his faded jeans, but he beat her to it, buzzing it down, then sliding his jeans down far enough to free his erection.
Meg's insides flushed with heat. His big hands gripped her waist as he sat down on the sofa and pulled her down to straddle him.
“Your ribs,” she worried.
“Doesn't matter,” he said and fastened his mouth on one of her swaying breasts. She could feel the rasp of his whiskers against her skin and pleasure speared through her, slid out through her limbs.
Meg braced her hands on his wide, hard shoulders as damp heat settled in her core. When she pressed her mouth against the head of the dragon climbing up the side of his neck, a shudder moved through him. She loved his maleness, the way he could make her body respond with nothing more than a kiss. She loved everything about him.
“I can't wait,” he said. “Not this time.” He was trying to dig out a condom when she stopped him.
“I got a birth control shot in the hospital. We don't need it.”
Heat glittered in his eyes. He lifted her a little and plunged, burying himself deep. With a groan that turned into a sigh, he pulled her mouth back to his and kissed her, softly this time, the sweetest, most achingly tender kiss she had ever known.
“I love you,” he said. “So damn much.”
He claimed her mouth again, sending all thought out of her head. Gripping her hips, Dirk took her, driving hard, thrusting deep. Pleasure burned through her, grew hotter, fiercer. She climaxed hard, then came again.
She was his, he was telling her with his powerful body. She belonged to him.
And that was exactly what Meg wanted.
* * *
Naked at last and snuggled together on the sofa, Dirk kissed the top of Meg's head.
“So pretty,” he said, toying with her breasts. They were plump and round, just the right size to fill his hands. “I almost shot Gertsman myself just for looking at them.”
He could feel her smile. “You're making me want to jump you again,” she said. “Unfortunately we have to get dressed. Charlie might wake up and come downstairs.”
“I know.”
She sat up and turned to face him. “That's what it's like when you have a child.”
It was time for their talk, he figured. Time to get everything out in the open. They put their clothes back on, then sat back down on the sofa. He'd showered before coming over but hadn't taken the time to shave or get the haircut he so badly needed. Hell, he needed another eight solid hours of sleep, but this was more important.
“The truth is I don't know squat about kids, Meg. I don't know if I can be the kind of dad Charlie deserves.”
She reached over and caught his hand, laced her fingers through his. “Charlie loves you already. I love you, and you're the best man I know. I couldn't want a better father for my son.” She squeezed his hand. “But it isn't always easy. It takes a lot of work to raise a child.”
She was asking if he was willing to take on the job. Charlie was a good kid. With a little help, he'd grow up to be a good man. “I never had a real dad, not the kind who gave a damn about me. I'd do my best for Charlie.”
Meg's eyes glistened. “I know you would.”
Dirk got up from the sofa and began to pace. He wanted Megan O'Brien more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. But not unless he was sure it would work for both of them.
“What about my job, Meg? I work security. You saw firsthand what that means.”
She stood up, too. “Yes, I did. It means that you help people. What I saw firsthand was how good you are at what you do. Your work is important. You saved me and women Gertsman would have harmed in the future. I wouldn't want you to change who you are.”
His eyes found hers. They had a lot going for them, but they were still far different people. He needed to be sure she understood. “Even if that's true, we've still got a problem.”
“Which is ... ?”
“I remember when you were on tour, Meg, the way you looked in those fancy designer dresses. You're opening a fashion boutique. Your father's a member of the country club. You'll be going to elegant parties, mingling with the elite. I wear jeans, Meg, not Armani suits.”
She looked up at him and the love in her eyes made his chest feel tight. “Would you wear one if I asked you to? I mean, if it were something special I had to attend? I remember how hot you looked in that tuxedo you wore in New Orleans. Would you dress up for me if I asked you?”
Dirk couldn't stop a grin.
She thought he looked hot in a tux?
“When you put it that way, hell, yeah. Baby, I'd do just about anything for you.”
Meg threw her arms around his neck. “I love you so much. We're going to have so much fun.”
Dirk pulled her closer. “So . . . you gonna marry me?”
Meg leaned up and kissed him so thoroughly his blood began to pound. “I thought you'd never ask.”
Dirk figured he could take that as a yes.