Wolfsbane (35 page)

Stiffening, she drew straight. And the knife in his heart dug a little deeper. “Is … is she okay?” She stepped from the halo of light outside his office and drifted inside, wrapping her arms around her waist. She knew … oh, she knew his failings. All of them.

Olin sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. She and one of the men got
separated from the team. They haven’t located them yet.”

She came to his side and rested her long fingers on his shoulders. “God will take care of her, Olin. Leave her in His care.” She pressed her lips to the top of his head. “And those men are the best, you said so.”

He patted her hand, but the comfort that should have come from those words fell short of the mark. Though he wanted to remind his wife that he’d made a promise a decade ago, he couldn’t. It’d only open old wounds … wounds he’d tried desperately to let heal.

Her finger raked his desk, then she sailed out of the room. As she did, he realized she had not merely touched his desk. No, it was more than that. She’d touched something on his desk. A tattered edge. Of the past. Of his guilt.

DAY SEVEN

S
ir!” One of the outsiders jogged through the village, trailed by several more and the dark ones. “Sir, we’ve got a problem.”

Bayani turned from the final instructions to Maut and Tem-Tem. “Easy there, Mav. What’s up?”

“There are tanks, Jeeps, and hundreds of warriors and others headed this way.”

I turned to Awa, whose face went as pale as Bayani’s. “What can this mean?”

“Seems the new team has upset someone.” Bayani hefted his big gun. “Let’s—”

“No, sir.” Mav gulped a breath. “We don’t have enough. We go up against them and with those armaments—we’re dead.”

“An air strike.”

Bayani turned to the big Spaniard he had punched and put in his place two weeks ago. “That’s not how we work.” He pointed to his outsiders. “Get our gear piled up and ready.”

“On it,” the man said and took two men with him. “What is an air strike, Bayani?” Awa knew the answer; I could see the fear of it on his face
.

“Bombs, from an airplane.” Bayani glowered at the dark one. “And it’s not happening. They’re already too close and if we do this—it could injure this village.”

“If we don’t call in a strike, we won’t be doing any kind of work.” The Spaniard looked around. “And neither will any of these people. What do you say, Bayani? Going to kill your woman?”

Words of war. Taunting. Cruel. Meant to get the thing this man desired. I was not sure if Bayani knew this man’s purpose, or if Bayani felt there were
no other options. Regardless, he knew that this strike was not a very good choice
.

I knew this big man’s heart. There had been others like him before. Like the warrior who had nearly killed my Chesa. This man wanted that strike
.

    The old woman shuddered; her breathing came in gulps.

Matt leaned forward to pause the recording. “Are you well, Mrs. Mercado?”

She patted his hand, and a shaky smile trembled beneath wrinkles. “Not for years, Major Rubart.”

“Do you feel up to continuing?” He shifted, agonizing over the idea of her wanting to stop. The doctors feared she would die. Without this testimony … “We can take a break, if you need it.”

“Major,” Carrie Hartwicke whispered. “We can’t afford—”

He snapped up a hand and silenced her as he lifted the older woman’s hand. “We don’t want to rush you. Transporting you took a greater toll than we all expected. But I know you understand how important the information you have is to us.”

Weariness seeped past Corazine’s resolve. She sighed and seemed to drift to sleep.

Matt’s heart chugged. “Mrs. Mercado?”

A withering breath. “No. No, I must continue. For Chesa.” Her smile wavered again. “I wonder, who will I see first—Bayani or Chesa?”

Matt wasn’t sure what to say. The question seemed incongruent with the whole deposition. “Bring her some water.” He watched as the doctor pressed a dampened cloth to the woman’s face. Really, there was nothing to do but keep her alive and comfortable for as long as they could. She would die, the doctor had said, regardless of their efforts.

“No,” she said, her voice gaining strength. “I must finish before I go. See?” She sighed. “I’m a fighter. Awa always say that.”

“Okay.” Matt eased back into his chair at the small table and clicked the small device next to his computer. “We’re ready when you are.” He nodded. “It’s recording.”

CHAPTER 22

W
hirring vibrated through the walls … the ceiling … the ground. Max capitalized on the sound and closed his eyes, allowing it to lull him into a light sleep. Yet not sleeping—he focused on the sounds, the patterns happening outside the cell. They should be good for another twenty minutes before another guard came by to check.

Twenty-six hours. They’d been locked up in here for more than a day. His mind drifted to Squirt, imagining what the man must be facing if he hadn’t freed them already.

“Movement.”

At Aladdin’s voice, Max hiked to his feet and positioned himself on the other side of the door. Through the light seeping through the small square window, Aladdin’s face glowed. “Two guards with—” His lips flattened and nostrils flared. “He’s blown.”

Not good.

Creaking and groaning stabbed the air.

“Stand back!” A guard shouted, aiming his weapon at Max.

Back-stepping, Max made his way to the middle of the cell, hands up, noting Aladdin did the same.

Seconds later, two more guards wedged through the door, an unconscious Squirt dragged across the cement between them. With the heavy ammo trained on them, Max didn’t move. But he knew that with his tactics and Aladdin’s, they could take this crew. However, with a man down, they needed to assess the situation. And find a route out of this place.

The door cranked shut.

Max dropped to a knee and placed two fingers along Squirt’s neck as Aladdin traced hands along Squirt’s body checking for injuries.
“Alive, pulse thready.”

“No noticeable breaks or swe—” Aladdin leaned over Squirt and tugged the prone body up and to the side. “He bit one.” He turned Squirt onto his back and planted a hand against the gunshot wound in the abdomen. Worried eyes rose to Max. “He won’t last the night.”

“Then we better get out of here before then.” He scowled. “I’m not losing a guy.”

Blackness snapped through the facility.

Max hesitated, glancing up but seeing nothing in the darkened cell.

“Think that’s the rest of the team?”

“Better be.” Things weren’t right. Getting ambushed during insertion—Midas had been right. Then he and the girl took the mudslide out of reach. Then getting captured. Now Squirt. Max was ready to turn the tide in their favor. “I’ve had enough surprises.”

“Well …” Aladdin’s voice sounded strained. And near the door again.

Max tensed. When had Aladdin moved?

“Better get ready. Generator has dull lights. I see nearly a dozen men drifting through the hall. Straight toward us. And they’re armed.”

A dozen? Nightshade didn’t have a dozen even with the girl.

“Get back.” Scooting into the corner and dragging Squirt’s heavy bulk with him made Max feel like a scared rabbit. But the face of his beautiful wife and chubby-cheeked son compelled him to fight. If need be—to the death.

“They banked off.”

Fear whooshed out of him. He set Squirt to the side and slumped against the wall. “That was—”

A scream knifed the air.

Spine stiff, Max slid along the cement wall to the door until his fingers grazed the steel hinges. “What’s happening?”

Tat-tat-tat!

He paused at the rate of fire and pitch. An M4. American? A series of thuds and bangs carried through the prison. Shouts. More gunfire.

“Someone’s unhappy,” Aladdin mumbled.

“We have to get out of here.”

“With the door locked?”

There was that. “Can you flag someone?”

“Too dark.”

Hand fisted, Max rammed it against the door. That’s it! He shifted and kicked the door. The jolt thumped through his leg. He did it again.
If they made enough noise …

“Wait-wait. Stop. They’re coming.”

Max stilled then returned to the wall, noting everything had once more fallen silent.

This had the smell and feel of a tactical strike. But … who was striking? Not Nightshade. They only had three men left on the outside. Though he couldn’t hear Aladdin move, he saw the flicker of light against the man’s skin for a second.

Boom!

A gust of hot wind.
Thud-clank-thud!
Air bled light, red and dull, revealing the door lying inside the room near the far wall. Several shapes slid into the room bringing more light.

Max spotted a leg-holstered gun. If he could reach it—

The uniformed man spun toward him.

Fight or die. Fight or die. Max lunged
.

A fist plowed into his shoulder.

Max slammed a right hook into the man’s gut.

“Friendly! Friendly!”

Wrestling in the arms of a soldier, Max finally connected the voice—Legend’s. The soldier he’d locked around the waist snarled in his ear, “Step off.”

Hands out, Max pushed back and straightened.

“Triton, he’s ours. It’s good.”

“Legend?”

“Let’s go, Boss. We found Midas; we’ve got him.”

“He was here?”

“Yeah,” Legend said. “Pretty messed up though.”

“I’m fine,” came the familiar growl from between clenched teeth and fat eyes. “We have to find Roark. She’s here.”

“She’s not,” said a smaller—but not by much—version of Legend. Triton, Max guessed.

Hand to his head, Midas looked like he’d collapse if the wall moved. “They brought us here at the same time. I’m not leaving without her.”

“Already been through this.” Triton nodded to one of his men.

Another soldier brandished a needle. When the guy moved toward Midas, an arm snaked around his throat and held him in a choke hold.

“Put it down,” Aladdin ordered as he peered over the man’s shoulder.

Surprise lit through Max at the stealth of that man. But Aladdin was right. “You’re not drugging my man.”

Triton scowled. “Exactly ten minutes to rendezvous with our only
ride out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without her,” Midas reiterated, the growl stronger now.

“She’s part of my team.” Max added his assent to Midas’s claim. “If she’s here, we find her.”

With a nod, Midas thanked him. They were a team, they—

Pain flickered through Midas’s eyes and he hauled in a breath. Slowly, his shoulder rolled around the corner. He pitched forward, limp.

Max lunged and caught him, confused as he supported the man’s dead weight. “Midas!” Only then did he see the dart in Canyon’s neck. He snapped his gaze to the leader of the faction.

Triton shrugged. “Sorry. We’ve got orders, too.”

Spine pressed against the wall near the door, Dani waited in the darkness as the guards shouted outside her cell.
Come and find out where I went
. Poised to the side of the door, she held the broken cot leg she’d used to shatter the lightbulb. Light leapt into the cell through the small Plexiglas window. The ground sparkled. She prayed the guards didn’t notice the glass from the shattered bulb, which should give her a few more options.