Authors: Irene Hannon
Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Contemporary
Against All Odds (39 page)
“Mark and I will probably cut out once she’s in her room.”
“Okay. See you up there.”
As Nick forked off toward the elevator, Coop continued toward the waiting room. Mark was slumped in one of the uncomfortable chairs, fatigue weighing down his shoulders, but as Coop entered he rose.
“How is she?”
“Minor injuries, but enough of them to produce a pretty significant cumulative effect. They’re moving her to a room, and once she’s settled, we can go get some sleep. Nick’s on the security detail tonight.”
“He’s a good guy. She’ll be well protected.”
“Yeah. I got that feeling.”
“Les told me about her father.”
“Any updates on his condition?”
“No.”
“Monica wants me to arrange for her to fly to Landstuhl.”
Mark arched an eyebrow. “Is she up to that?”
“Not according to the doctor.”
“Any chance of talking her out of it?”
“I wouldn’t put any wagers on it. But I intend to try.”
“From what I’ve seen of the lady, once she makes up her mind, she’s not easy to persuade.”
“Tell me about it.” Coop sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.
“Les passed on some other interesting news.” Mark glanced around the deserted room, motioned Coop into the corner farthest from the door, and lowered his voice. “The informer who promised to provide the location of the hostages came through.”
“Wow. I didn’t expect that.”
“Not only that, he provided the name and location of the mastermind, who’s already been picked up. Delta Force is preparing to free the hostages as we speak.”
“That’s some of the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“I agree. By the way, we got fingerprint IDs on our kidnappers. They both had clear terrorist connections.”
“No surprise there.” He checked his watch. “They should have Monica settled by now. You want to come up or wait here?”
“I’ll wait. I doubt she wants a parade through her room at this hour.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
When Coop stepped off the elevator on the third floor and turned down the hall toward Monica’s room, he found Nick planted outside the closed door. And his watchful posture suggested he had no intention of moving. The other agent was a bit farther down the hall, with a clear line of sight to her door.
“Is she alone?” Coop paused beside Nick.
“Yes. The nurse and orderly left a couple of minutes ago.”
With a nod, Coop opened the door and stepped into the darkened room. He gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light, then moved to the bed. Monica lay unmoving under a blanket, and at first he thought she was asleep. But her eyelids fluttered open at his approach.
“It’s Coop.” He identified himself immediately. The last thing she needed was a shadowy figure sneaking up on her in the dark.
“I think they spiked my IV.” Her words were a bit slurred, and he could see her struggling to remain awake.
“Good. You need to sleep.”
“I want to finish our discussion.”
Even drugs couldn’t dilute her single-minded determination, Coop reflected. “You’ve been through too much, Monica. I’m not in favor of this trip.”
“I know you aren’t. And I appreciate your concern. But I’m going. Can you arrange it?”
“Why don’t we wait until tomorrow and see where everything stands?”
“I don’t want to wait. That will delay the trip.” Frustration nipped at her groggy words. When she continued, however, her tone was more conciliatory. “But I’ll tell you what. If the doctor finds any reason to keep me hospitalized tomorrow, I’ll reconsider. In the meantime, you set things in motion. Okay?”
Her voice was fading, and Coop had to admire her tenacity—and her ability to bargain—despite the effect of the drugs dripping into her bloodstream. Considering her threat to find someone else to help her if he didn’t, his options were limited.
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
She groped for his hand in the dark, and he wrapped her slender fingers in a warm clasp. “Thank you.” Half a minute later her grip grew limp as she succumbed to the oblivion of sleep.
One minute ticked by. Two. Coop continued to hold her hand, reluctant to break contact. In the end, however, he forced himself to listen to reason. He, too, was in desperate need of sleep, and though his heart urged him to stay, logic told him to leave.
But before he slipped out of her room, he did what he’d been wanting to do from the moment they freed her.
He bent down and pressed his lips gently to her forehead.
From his last position of cover, Captain Jack Logan trained his binoculars on the two gun-toting guards outside the hut that stood a bit apart from the handful of scattered hovels that constituted the tiny desert village. One was gesturing in an agitated manner with his free hand. The other’s posture was stiff.
Their intelligence had been sound. This was the place.
He scanned the barren terrain, looking for any sign of the fifteen men from the three Delta Force teams summoned for this rescue mission. Even with his trained eye, in broad daylight, he saw nothing. Masters of the art of infiltration without detection, they’d low-crawled into position, melting into the desert in their camouflage gear and face paint. A couple had managed to work their way into an abandoned structure a short distance away from the hut containing the hostages.
Now, they waited for his command. Snipers had the two guards in their crosshairs. Every assaulter knew exactly what he had to do.
A third guard from inside the hut joined the two at the door, and Logan hefted his HK416 into position. According to the informer, there were four guards on duty, two outside and two inside. If that information was correct, only one guard remained in the hut.
The time had come for their diversion.
Logan initiated the rescue with a single command that echoed through the speaker in every team member’s ear. Within three minutes, smoke began to billow from a storage shed behind the abandoned building where the two Delta Force operators were concealed.
One of the guards pointed to the shed, and the three began an animated conversation. They summoned the fourth guard, who exited the hut, gun at ready. The group conversed some more. Finally two of the guards edged toward the smoke.
The triggers on four rifles were squeezed to within the last ounce of resistance as each sniper verified a clear line of sight and confirmed his target.
Jack issued a second command.
Shots echoed.
Guards fell.
In the eerie silence that followed, the assault team moved in.
Four minutes later, Logan dropped down on one knee beside the huddle of three grimy, terrified hostages.
“I’m Captain Jack Logan with the U.S. Army. We’ve come to take you home.”
23
Eight hours after he left Monica at the hospital, seven hours after he set the wheels for her trip to Germany in motion, and six hours after he passed out on the bed, Coop jolted awake, heart racing, adrenaline pumping. He grabbed his Glock. Bolted upright. Identified the noise that had awakened him as the shower.
Sagging against the headboard, he lowered the gun. He was in a hotel. The nightmare was over. Monica was safe.
He drew in a slow breath. Let it out. Repeated the process once, twice, three times. As his pounding pulse subsided, he consulted his watch. Eight o’clock. Six hours of sleep wasn’t enough, but it had helped.
“Morning.” Mark came out of the bathroom, a towel draped over his hips, his hair spiky with moisture. “Did I wake you?”
“I needed to get up.”
“What time did you finally crash?”
“A little after two.”
He grimaced. “The shower’s yours if you want it.”
“Yeah. I want it.” As Coop swung his legs to the floor and stood, he couldn’t imagine anything he’d rather have right now than a hot shower. Well, perhaps one thing, he conceded, as he padded across the room, the hint of a smile softening the tension around his mouth.
“Want to share that thought?” Mark propped one shoulder against the door frame, blocking Coop’s access to the bathroom. “I could use a smile too.”
“Sorry. It’s private.”
“Hmph.” Mark pushed off, allowing Coop to pass. “Must be about Monica.”
Coop shut the door in his face.
Mark called through it. “That’s what I figured.”
Sometimes his partner was just a little too cocky, Coop decided, twisting the faucet and shedding the clothes he’d slept in. And a little too insightful.
Although he’d have loved to spend half a day under the hot, tension-dissolving jets of water, he gave himself a mere three minutes. Les had informed them about the successful hostage rescue last night, but he needed to check in with the commander for an update on David Callahan. He also wanted to run by Monica’s house and pick up some clothes for her to wear home from the hospital. As far as he was concerned, they could burn the pink sweat suit.
When he emerged from the fogged-up room in a cloud of steam, Mark was already dressed.
“Give me five minutes.” He rubbed a towel over his hair.
“No rush. I talked to Nick. Everything was quiet last night. And he arranged to have someone clean up Monica’s place. The housekeeping service was there at seven.”
“I owe him one for that.” He’d planned to do a cursory cleaning himself before they picked her up. The ERT was thorough, but the fingerprint people typically left powder everywhere. As for the bloody lingerie drawer . . . that had been his first priority. The fewer reminders she had of that trauma—and the ones that had followed—the better. “We’ll only have to stop long enough to grab some clothes for her.”
He dressed with speed and efficiency, scanning the contents of his suitcase as he sorted through clothes. One clean shirt left, he noted, adding laundry to his to-do list.
“If you drive, I can check in with Les en route.” Coop secured the last button on his white shirt, tossing the keys to Mark before slipping his arms through the sleeves of a charcoal gray suit jacket.
“Piece of cake compared to some of the assignments I’ve had in the past few days. Let’s go.”
Once in the SUV, Coop tapped in the number of Les’s cell phone. As usual, the commander answered on the first ring.
“We’re on our way to the hospital.” Coop buckled his seat belt as Mark exited the hotel parking lot and pulled into traffic. “I wanted to get an update on David Callahan.”
“He’s been airlifted and is scheduled to arrive at Landstuhl within the hour. A surgical team is waiting. I understand he has very serious head and chest wounds. I was told the odds of him pulling through are fifty-fifty at best.”
Another piece of bad news to pass on to Monica, Coop reflected, wishing he had a better prognosis to offer her.
“Any idea who was behind it?” He tapped Mark’s shoulder and gestured toward a fast-food chain up ahead. He was desperate for a cup of coffee, and a couple of egg and sausage biscuits didn’t sound too shabby, either. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. Maybe a stale donut at the safe house? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“The Taliban is claiming responsibility. No connection to the hostage situation. According to the ballistics experts who are investigating the incident, the bomb appears to have been detonated by a cell phone.”
Mark swung into the drive-through. After being paired with him on missions for close to three years, Coop didn’t even have to tell his partner what to order. Mark had it down.
“I also have an update on Ms. Callahan’s travel arrangements, assuming she’s released from the hospital. We’ve got her on military transport out of Andrews at seventeen hundred hours. You and Mark can escort her to the plane, and State Department security will take over from there. Let me know as soon as you confirm it’s a go.”
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