“Get down into the creek, Rose. It’s our only option.”
She turned her head. Her dark eyes met his, and there was stark fear there, not for herself but for their child. She resolutely turned back and took the Hummer bumping and bouncing back into the creek bed. She drove a few yards to get as clear of the trees as possible and then abruptly leapt up to crawl back to the baby.
Kane fired repeatedly, cutting a wide circle around them. From above, he could hear covering fire as well. Once Rose made up her mind to do it, she was all business, paying no attention to the battle taking place outside. She gathered up the baby, strapping him into a front pack in order to leave her hands free. It took a few minutes to wrap the large bulletproof vest around both of them.
Kane paused just long enough to make certain it was secure. She leaned down and caught his face in her hands. “You’ll be right behind us, right? Right behind us. No hero crap. You’ll get into that helicopter no matter what.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Promise me. Say it. I promise, Kane. I need to hear that.”
He leaned forward and kissed her mouth, uncaring that bullets were flying. She needed reassurance, and he was giving it to her in the only way he knew how so that she could read his honesty. “I promise.”
We’re in position, but we’re sitting ducks. Get moving. Mack’s command was a definite order.
Kane put his hand where the baby’s head was hidden by the vest. “Go.”
He went back to giving covering fire, trusting his men to do the rest. Gideon Carpenter had eyes like an eagle and could shoot the wings off a fly. Javier Enderman—well he just looked where he wanted to shoot, and that was as good as pulling the damned trigger.
Rose pushed open the heavy door to the roof and cautiously put her head out. Once she caught that rope, she would be committed. Kane expected hesitation. She didn’t know the men in the helicopter the way he did, but there was no vacillation, and that told him a lot about her. Once she made up her mind, she followed through. She’d pulled on thin gloves, and she caught the rope, one foot looping it.
She went up as fast as possible. She was strong—after all she was a GhostWalker—but she was a sitting duck and expecting someone to shoot her at any moment. The backwash from the helicopter blades was hellacious. The rope spun a bit, and that made it difficult to keep Sebastian facing away from the biggest threat. They were using a pulley system as well, which helped move the rope up even faster.
She was halfway up the rope before she realized the night had gone eerily silent. No one on the ground fired at them. Not a single soldier—as if a cease-fire had been declared and everyone was abiding by it. She climbed faster, afraid the silence was the lull before the storm.
A man caught her around the waist and hauled her into the helicopter, dragging her deeper inside, not letting go until she was steady. Barely glancing at him, she unstrapped the baby as fast as possible, looking around for the safest, most protected place she could find. She used the vest to construct a barrier around him. She was quick, her movements efficient as she turned back, pulling her automatic rifle back around her neck to the front by the strap, and stepping to the entrance to provide cover for Kane.
“Ten o’clock, your side, Gideon,” someone barked.
Gideon fired without hesitation, the shot ringing out in the night. “He’s down, Top. We’re ready.”
Her stomach tightened. Everyone was going to be shooting at Kane. These men and she would have to keep the shooters off him. She put the rifle to her shoulder and looked into the night scope. Only seconds had gone by, but it seemed an eternity.
Climb fast, Kane. She tried not to allow her fear for him to show in her mind. We’re waiting for you.
Just waiting for Top to give me the okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right there.
His voice was steady, but she knew it would be. Very little seemed to shake the man.
Has to be easier than delivering a baby, right? he teased, laughter in his voice.
The knots in her stomach tightened with dread. Her mouth went dry. She was rock steady in combat as a rule, nothing fazed her, but deep inside she felt jittery.
Damn straight.
Coming up now, honey. Top just gave me the word.
She glanced down, although she knew she shouldn’t, to see Kane leap up, gripping the rope. She’d never seen a man climb so fast. Hand over hand, he went straight up as the backwash from the helicopter’s blade blew the rope into a whirling frenzy, not nearly as bad as with her lighter weight. His strength was beyond her comprehension, and she had to force herself to stare into the scope to protect him.
He was more than halfway to the helicopter when two of them with her began shooting rapidly. She spotted a soldier lifting his rifle, and she took the shot, seeing him go down. A volley of shots rang out, and the helicopter jerked.
She gasped and looked down. Kane was right at the entrance, reaching with one hand to pull himself inside. She never actually heard the bullet tear into him, but she saw his body rock back, away from the helicopter, and she flung herself forward and with both hands caught his wrist.
Don’t you let go of that rope! Rose put every ounce of command she had into her voice.
There was blood everywhere, all over him. He was too heavy, much too heavy, and she had no time. One of the men beside her leaned out with her and caught him under his arms.
“Fucking shoot that bastard,” came a command behind her.
“On it, Top,” two voices said simultaneously.
Kane was unconscious, but when the bullet hit, instinct had him clutching the rope, his only lifeline, with his remaining hand. They had to pry it out of his closed hand. Before the sniper could shoot a second time, at least two men behind her fired over her head.
She didn’t have time to identify the man beside her who was keeping Kane from falling to his death. “Get him in. Get him in. We don’t have any time. Set up for a transfusion. Move. Move. I need a medical kit. Open one fast, get out the iodine.”
She put every ounce of strength she had into helping the man beside her haul Kane’s dead weight into the helicopter. She dragged him inside and laid him out, scrambling to kneel beside him, her knife out. She cut away his clothes, exposing his belly. The bullet had torn into his abdomen and ricocheted through his chest.
“Get a needle into him before his veins collapse,” she snapped, not looking at the grim-faced men surrounding her. Her entire being was focused on saving Kane—and she only had minutes. Her palms burned, scorching, unbearably hot.
“Iodine. Hurry, pour it over his belly and my hands and knife.” She held them out, and even as they poured, she cut into Kane’s flesh.
Someone—again, she didn’t know or care who—crowded tight against her back and placed a blade firmly against her neck, a threat one shouldn’t ignore, but she did. If the bastard wanted to kill her, so be it, but she wasn’t going to take even precious seconds to try to make him understand. There was no way to explain how she had known the moment she laid her hands on Kane that the artery was severed and he was bleeding out fast—too fast.
Everything around her faded until she was in that deep tunnel where there were only her hands answering the needs of a critically injured human being. Already the energy was surging through her. Her fingertips tingled and burned. She plunged her hands into his body, unerringly finding the artery. She grasped it between her fingers, slipped on all the blood, and had to fish again. The artery felt like a noodle, or worse, a squid. She wasn’t squeamish unless she allowed herself to think about failing.
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice demanded.