Final Target (SEAL Team Blackout), page 7
His brow shot up. “In?”
“Yeah. I have training. I can help. Plus, I know the bunker. I can find where they’re keeping him.”
Sparrow let out a low grumble. “Are you a SEAL?”
“No.”
“Then you stay. With the scientist.” He started to turn away from her, but she jumped in front, barring his way.
“I need to see Crew. I can’t leave things like this.”
His intense stare left her with no doubt that he understood her meaning.
She dragged her fingers through her hair. “You know what I did. What I did to him. And now you know why.”
“I always knew there had to be a reason you broke things off with him. I figured you’d come to your senses and realized you couldn’t be together. It places both of you in danger.”
Her insides flamed with shame and remorse. She didn’t like how Crew’s team looked at her, as if she was the enemy because she ended their marriage. But they were vicious and loyal to the core—which put them squarely on Crew’s side. She couldn’t blame them really.
“I need to see him. I’m afraid that if you guys go to that bunker without me, that you’ll send someone else to take me and Sophia out of here and we’ll never see your team again.”
He sent her a long look.
“I’m not wrong, am I?”
“Look, you made the right call in breaking things off with Mustang. You’re both in more danger together. On your own, you’ll have a chance to go back to whatever life you were leading. I don’t suggest going back to breaking codes, though. That gets you kidnapped.”
He took a step around her. She threw herself in his path again.
“I don’t know what I’ll be doing or where I’ll be. I only know that I have to go with you to that bunker and rescue Crew.”
“What are you going to do there?”
“I don’t know. Help find him.” She dragged her fingers through her hair again, scraping it off her face. “I don’t know anymore….”
His dark, intense stare penetrated her. “I do. And I’ll tell you—love is not enough.”
She jerked as if he’d slapped her. All the breath whooshed from her lungs, and she floundered for a comeback but the pain of his words hit the bullseye of her heart.
Before she made that call to Crew that ended their marriage, she’d asked herself so many times if she was doing the right thing. And the answer always circled around to the same conclusion Sparrow had just hit her with.
Love was not enough. It couldn’t keep him out of the danger she willingly threw herself into every day of her life. It wouldn’t keep her safe from the things he encountered either.
She opened her mouth and closed it. No words came out.
Wrapping her arms around her middle to hold in the pain, she rushed away from Sparrow and the teams that were finished with their reunion and calming down to talk tactics.
She arrowed toward the room she shared with Sophia. She had no desire to talk about why she was holding back tears, so she hurried on to the bathroom and locked herself inside.
Oh, Crew. I’m so sorry this is how things turned out. I do love you. I always will.
She stared at her reflection. Hurt twisted her bruised face.
Her voice came out as a hot whisper. “Come back to me safe.”
SEVEN
Something big was going down in the bunker. Whether Crew and the other prisoners would live to see another day was anybody’s guess.
Gunfire blasted through the upstairs, each loud retort echoing through the underground prison where Crew was kept.
From the cell beside him came the low chant of prayer. He couldn’t make out the garbled words but caught the meaning—the prisoner was praying for his life.
Crew put all his confidence in his team. Sparrow, Bishop, Ramsey and the rest. They’d saved his ass more than once and he’d returned the favor on occasion.
He gripped the bars, waiting. A blast thrummed through the building. Dust shook loose from the ceiling, and several prisoners cried out. The man in the cell next to his prayed louder.
Shouts and screams followed. He’d been tortured and starved, but damn if his muscles acknowledged the abuse. They strained with the need to fight. Sweat poured off him.
The thud of boots on the stone floor had his chest on fire. He tightened his hold on the bar and tried to see who was coming, but he couldn’t see more than a few feet down the hallway.
“Mustang!”
With a jerk, he shook the gate in his grip. Metal clanged on stone.
“Here!”
Elation mingled with adrenaline. Men stormed into his line of sight—dressed in black and their faces smeared with paint.
Blackout.
Sparrow spotted him and lowered his weapon. Their gazes met, and the stupid line from one of the movies from the Kevin Costner marathon during their three weeks off dropped onto his tongue.
“Robin, you came for me!” he called out in his best Maid Marian from Robin Hood voice.
Sparrow grunted. “I guess that makes me Kevin Costner. Yeah…I’ll always come for you. Or I might if I have orders.” He pulled out a long shank of metal and jammed it into the gate lock.
“You’d wait for orders? I’m hurt.”
“You’re hurt. And that means I can trust you.”
Crew understood, but Sparrow was taking too damn long. “Why not just shoot the lock?”
“Can’t risk a ricochet. I’m not here to carry out a bleeding teammate.” Sparrow flicked the shank downward and the lock clicked.
He ripped open the gate and Crew rushed out, fully aware he was covered in dried blood from the wounds they inflicted on him and had no shirt or boots anymore.
“Gimme your sidearm,” he demanded of Sparrow.
“I can do better than that.” He swung down a second rifle slung around his body and yanked it over his head.
The minute Crew had that weapon in his hands, he knew he was going to make it out of here. Nobody would stand in his way.
“What about the other prisoners?” he called to Sparrow.
“We’ll get them out. We’ve got aid workers on their way.”
They reached the upper floor. Dust and debris fogged the air and one corner of the building was nothing but rubble.
“I see Lena got to use her grenade launcher.” Crew stepped over a chunk of stone wall and out the hole punched into the side of the building.
Sparrow eyed him. “Get yourself to safety. Let us finish this fight.”
He took a step to follow his commanding officer, but Sparrow threw up a hand. “You’re in no shape to fight, Mustang. Stay alert. Guard yourself.”
“I see you had to bring in Charlie to take my place.”
Sparrow huffed in reply.
Striding across the dirt yard took longer than it should have. He leaned against the stone wall with weapon at the ready. Slowly, his team along with Blackout Charlie dragged the terrorists outside.
These men had tortured Crew.
He gripped his weapon tighter, itching to line them all up and spray the whole group with bullets.
His head spun. He had to get a grip on himself.
Vehicles pulled up and medical personnel jumped out just as the prisoners started being escorted out of the compound.
From this distance he couldn’t see the shape they were in other than that those who could walk stumbled around. Suddenly, he was glad he didn’t know their names and stories.
“You’re injured.”
The statement made Crew look over. A short, thin man stood there.
His brown eyes were kind. “I’m a medic. Come with me.”
A short time later with the worst of his injuries cleaned and bandaged, the medic let him go. Crew searched the yard for his team. They stood in small clusters talking while the prisoners were ferried off to hospitals and the rest of the men found alive after the attack were taken elsewhere to be interrogated.
He didn’t move for a moment, searching for Teigen. But of course the team wouldn’t allow her to come with them. She’d be hidden away someplace safe. Thank god she wouldn’t see him like this, covered in bandages and probably hollow-eyed from all he’d endured.
He set off to join his team. As soon as he got a few yards away, Frost glanced up. A slow grin crossed his face.
“Damn, it’s good to see you in one piece.” He held up a hand and Crew grasped it hard.
Lachlan and Gunnison crowded in for their turns.
“What took you assholes so long?” Crew asked.
“Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.” Lachlan gave him a once-over. “You don’t look any worse for wear.”
After what he’d been through, Crew hadn’t expected to feel the urge to laugh for a long time, so the bubble rumbling up his throat felt damn good. “Dickhead.”
Gunnison nodded at Crew. “Good to have you back, man.”
“Where’s that CO of ours? I need to talk to him.” Crew spotted Sparrow coming their way.
“Would you look at this motherfucker?” Sparrow gripped Crew’s hand hard.
Crew thumped him on the back, but Sparrow didn’t return the gesture, probably because he sported more bandage than visible skin.
When they pulled apart, Sparrow scrubbed a finger over his upper lip. “So…Maid Marian, huh?”
Crew laughed. Damn, it felt good, even with bruised ribs. “It was the first thing that popped in my head.”
“What’s this about Maid Marian?” Lachlan asked.
Sparrow jerked a thumb at him. “When I found Mustang, this crazy bastard quoted a line from Robin Hood to me.”
They all broke into laughter. The sound chased away the shadows Crew would be living with for some time. Then he remembered what his captors told him.
“Can we still get out of the country? They told me they blew up the airstrips and cut off the ports.”
They all sobered. Sparrow eyed him. “I haven’t heard that, so I guess they lied or the plans to stop us at the border haven’t taken place yet.”
Crew leveled him in his stare. “Can I talk to you privately?”
“Yeah, man.” Sparrow only had to twitch his jaw for the others to leave them alone. “What’s up?”
“Teigen. Is she all right?”
“She’s in a safehouse. For now. She’s okay.”
Crew’s throat clamped with more emotion than he was willing to show his teammate. “They told me she slept with everyone to get kinder treatment,” he mumbled.
Sparrow’s expression grew stony. “You saw her face. Don’t believe it.”
“I didn’t,” Crew said. He’d only mentioned it to Sparrow to rid himself of the dark, ugly thought of his wife performing sexual acts to save herself.
But he didn’t know what she was capable of, did he? He didn’t know her as well as he thought.
“For now? Do you plan on moving her?”
Sparrow eyed him. “I was, but I know you want to see her.” He gripped his shoulder in the only spot those bastards hadn’t touched. “You good to walk to the van? We’ll head back to the safehouse in a few.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice wavered with a faint rasp but Crew proved his word was good by turning and walking over to the van.
An hour later, they pulled up in front of the safehouse. The guys’ chatter was typical post-mission talk, with all of them carefully avoiding the shit they’d seen and done back in the bunker. It comforted Crew that things hadn’t changed in the days he’d been held prisoner.
But as he climbed out he was edgy as hell.
The sun had just been dawning when he left that hellhole. Now it angled halfway up the sky, blaring into his eyes. He welcomed the heat on his face and light that wasn’t the orange glow from the tunnels.
He looked toward the front entrance of the safehouse and stopped dead.
Teigen stood there, next to the scientist he’d been captured trying to rescue.
All the air seemed to be sucked out of the world. How did he deal with Teigen now? Pain oozed from the unhealed wounds of her ending their marriage. But he still loved this woman. In his heart, nothing had changed.
But everything was different.
In slow steps, Crew approached his wife. Her gaze swept over him. She took in his injuries and compressed those full lips that he’d spent more than minutes kissing, nibbling and sucking on.
It hadn’t been an illusion back in that bunker—she’d changed her hair. The coppery-brown color was replaced by a deeper shade of brunette. He studied her features—narrow face, sharp jaw but delicate chin and that fine nose any artist would love to render.
Her face was puffy and tri-colored from healing bruises, but her eyes were the same toffee color with a chocolate outer ring he remembered.
“Crew…” She took a quick step toward him and stopped at what she saw on his face.
He looked past her at the scientist. The woman might be a little pale but was completely untouched.
Suspicion rippled through him.
Teigen placed a hand on his arm, drawing his attention. He stared down at her soft, familiar fingers curled around his forearm and just about lost it.
He fought to keep it together.
Suddenly, the scientist mumbled something about lying down. She didn’t meet his eyes or Teigen’s either as she turned and disappeared inside.
He looked down at Teigen. “Does she look like she was treated well to you?”
Her hand fell away from his arm. “A little too well.” Her stare fixed on his chest. Her throat worked and her face crumpled. “Oh, Crew. Look what they did to you!”
Bowing his head, he battled the need to take her in his arms and comfort her. But he wasn’t touching her without showering first.
“I’m okay,” he said gruffly. “Come inside with me. I’ll grab a shower, then we can talk.”
She looked up at him, eyes bright with the tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’ll make sure there’s something ready for you to eat.”
His lips quirked at the corner. He didn’t want to tell her that the team’s number one MO after any op was getting food in their stomachs. She seemed eager to do something to help him, but he couldn’t read into the gesture that all was healed between them.
The guys were filing past them into the safehouse, acting as if they weren’t witnessing two people floundering through a broken marriage, both of them in pretty rough shape after their ordeals.
A million unspoken words flew between them with lightning speed, yet when they turned and walked inside, he knew just as little about what came next for them as he had a month ago.
Crew had learned that skill and determination were the only traits he could rely on in this life.
But damn if he could stomp down the hope rising inside him.
* * * * *
Teigen always knew what to do. Her car broke down? Call for a tow truck. Her bathroom faucet leaked? Call the plumber.
She received a complicated code that needed cracked or people would die? She made a pot of coffee and didn’t sleep until the job was done.
But when it came to dealing with Crew after he’d been captured and clearly tortured because of her? She was so lost.
The team dispersed throughout the safehouse, leaving her alone in the middle of the front entry.
All these months apart after their marriage dissolved, and Crew’s first words were to ask about the scientist.
Okay, the fact that Sophia was unharmed had been eating at Teigen too. She’d chalked it up to their captors only beating the newbies coming into the bunker. But what if there was more to it?
In the few days they’d been under the protection of the Blackout team, she had several opportunities to question Sophia about it, but she’d shied away from bringing up the subject. After all, Sophia was still healing. She was pale and weak from malnutrition and illness. She needed time. Or so Teigen told herself.
She looked at her surroundings but pictured Crew. How was he going to shower with all those bandages? Some of the ones on his back he couldn’t even reach to peel off. Should the injuries even get wet?
She should go to him and at least offer to help.
Or maybe not. She chewed her lip.
If he required help, his teammates were hitting the showers too. Someone else could help Crew.
Feeling like a castaway drifting on an old door in the middle of a vast sea, she went to the room she shared with Sophia.
Before she entered, she saw Sophia sitting on the edge of her bed, looking down. Teigen took another step through the open door and spotted the phone in Sophia’s hand.
She paused, her mind catapulting in several directions. First, where did she get a phone? Perhaps one of the team had provided one. Several times Sophia voiced her concern about her parents and it was natural that she’d want to get in touch with them.
But the flip side was that Lena told Teigen that they weren’t supposed to make calls, use a phone or do anything to give away their location or plans. They hadn’t even let her contact her handler, who was far more likely to be familiar with black ops.
Sophia was so engrossed in her phone that she didn’t see Teigen in the doorway. Slowly, Teigen backed out and went into the bathroom. She needed to think. Her wits weren’t as quick as they were before being captured. It felt as if someone had thrown a thick film over her brain, leaving her a little duller than before.
But she had to think fast. What did she do? Walk back in there and demand Sophia hand over her phone and tell her exactly what she was doing? Or go straight to Sparrow and tell him what she saw?
Sparrow was a busy man. He’d just led a mission to recover Crew and probably freed some of the other prisoners too. She wouldn’t bother him with this problem—yet.
She walked out of the bathroom and right into the room she shared with Sophia. Hearing Sophia’s soft voice as she spoke on the phone, Teigen stopped dead.
“I don’t know everything, only that they rescued him,” Sophia said.
Who was she talking to? Teigen’s heart zapped with terror. She had to find Sparrow.
Wheeling around, she ran to the common room. Ramsey was there, still in his gear, pacing. As she burst in, he looked up, and she saw he too was on the phone.
