Avenged (Hostage Rescue Team Series) (Volume 5) (33 page)

Then Darwish cried out to him in a garbled voice. “Behind you!”

Ayman whirled, and suddenly everything was happening in slow motion. His hands tightened reflexively around his rifle as two men appeared in the doorway, their silhouettes starkly black against the faint light streaming from down the hallway. They wore helmets and had rifles set to their shoulders.

They were coming to kill him.

Baring his teeth, he turned to face his executioners and squeezed the trigger.

****

Someone was returning fire inside the courtroom.

Nate kept his focus on the blown-open doors ahead of them, the change in pitch of the weapon registering. A pistol. At least one person was in there fighting back.

At the head of the line, Tuck used hand signals to coordinate the attack. He reported two tangos.

Nate slowed his breathing, put his mind into neutral and let his training take over. When Tuck and Bauer fanned out to either side of the door to get a better look inside the room, Nate and the others followed suit, piling up behind them.

Tuck confirmed the situation with more signals. Two tangos.

The hallway behind them was empty, the area in front cleared by Gold Team, who were moving toward them to assist. Nobody else seemed to know they were there.

One of the shooters began firing again.

Tuck gave the signal and stepped into the room, covering the far right side while Bauer covered the left. Nate was next through the door. Everything slowed down, as it always did under fire.

A man’s voice called out in what sounded like Arabic.

In the space of a heartbeat Nate took in the scene before him. One shooter was down. Another stood facing them, an AK in his hands. Beyond him, he clearly saw a woman lying half draped over a man’s body, a pistol gripped in her hands.

Beside him, Cruz fired at the shooter on the ground.

In the split second it took Nate to transfer his attention back to the remaining shooter, the man was swinging the barrel of his weapon at him. Nate didn’t hesitate. He fired two rounds, hitting him in the chest.

But he didn’t go down. Only stumbled back a half step. The muzzle of his weapon dipped.

Nate aimed at the center of his forehead and fired again, hitting him cleanly between the eyes. He crumpled on the spot, his weapon clattering to the floor.

Nate crept forward, weapon trained on the two bodies on the floor. Cruz mirrored his movements. They both bent, checked for pulses. “Tango two down,” Nate reported.

“Tango one down,” Cruz echoed.

In the sudden silence Nate stood, held his ground and swept the room for further threats. The other team members fanned out, checking the room.

“Clear,” Tuck said.

“Clear,” Vance said a moment later.

“Gold Team’s confirmed, all tangos down,” Tuck reported. “Doc and Cruz, start helping the wounded. The rest of us will lock the building down.”

“Roger that.”

Now that the threat was over and the building clear, Nate’s heart began to pound. He grabbed a tactical flashlight from his web gear, shined it in the direction of the woman he’d seen earlier. She flinched and held up a blood-soaked arm to shield her eyes, but not before Nate saw her face.

Taya
. She was still alive, had been returning fire while using Duncan as a shooting platform.

She broke his heart with her bravery in the worst of circumstances.

Swallowing a cry of relief, he lowered the flashlight and ran to her.

“
Taya
.”

At the sound of that wonderful, familiar voice she looked up into Nathan’s worried face. Relief crashed through her, making her body turn limp.

He went to one knee in front of her, on the opposite side of Duncan, and took her face in his gloved hands, his eyes scanning her anxiously. “Baby, are you hurt?”

“I can’t stop the b-bleeding,” she whispered, hating the way her jaw shook. She had no idea how long she’d had her hands clamped to Duncan’s stomach. They’d gone numb, the muscles in her arms like jelly. She had her full body weight pressed on him but still the blood continued to leak out from beneath her stiff fingers. Her hands were coated with it, the warm, iron scent of it making her stomach roll.

Nathan slung his rifle across his chest and knelt next to Duncan, immediately sliding his fingers to the pulse in the other man’s neck. A second later he glanced behind him. “Blackwell, gimme a hand here.”

He got on the radio, his voice totally calm while he transmitted Duncan’s condition and requested immediate medevac for him. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” he told her, and shrugged out of his ruck. He rummaged through it, came up with gloves and some bandages she recognized as pressure dressings.

Taya locked her jaw and held on, glancing down at Duncan’s face. The man was pale from blood loss and had stopped responding to her a few minutes ago.

One of Nathan’s teammates came over, she assumed Blackwell. Nathan handed him a pair of surgical gloves then gently took hold of her wrists. The warmth of his fingers wrapped around her made tears sting her eyes. “Taya, look at me.”

The calm, steady sound of his voice pushed through the numbness invading her. She met his eyes, stared deep into them and blinked back tears. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

His expression softened with tenderness. “You did great, sweetheart. But are you hurt?”

“N-No.” A bullet graze, some scrapes, bruises and nicks didn’t matter. It could have been so much worse. Would have, if not for Duncan. He’d taken the rounds meant for her. He was dying because of her.

Taya bit down on the inside of her cheek. She wanted Nathan’s arms around her so badly but needed him to work on Duncan more.

He nodded once. “Blackwell and I’ll take it from here. You go with Cruzie out to see the paramedics, let them look you over. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

She managed a nod, realized belatedly that Cruz was already next to her. He slid an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. Her legs wobbled but she locked her knees and cast another look at Nathan. He was already prepping an IV, getting ready to slip it into Duncan’s arm.

“He s-saved me,” she whispered, unable to fight the shakes rolling through her.

Nathan looked up at her, his hazel gaze steady. “And I’m gonna do my best to save him. Go with Cruz now, baby.”

“Come on,” Cruz urged, gently pulling her away.

“Qureshi,” she blurted, then pointed behind her at the body in the orange jumpsuit. “That’s not Qureshi.”

“Qureshi’s been captured,” Nathan told her.

She stared at him, wanting to believe him. Needing to believe that all this horror hadn’t been for nothing, that all these innocent people hadn’t suffered and died in vain.

“Gold Team got him,” Cruz added. “He’s on his way to a deep, dark federal holding cell right now, until he stands trial.”

Oh, God, she still had to come back here, relive this whole thing when she testified against him. Exhaustion hit her like a sledgehammer, making it an effort just to stay on her feet.

“Cruz,” Nathan said in a warning tone.

“Yeah, we’re going. Come on, come with me,” he said to her.

Taya went with him, her limbs feeling wooden and jerky, as though someone else was controlling them. She’d been in shock like this before and hated it, resented the weakness that sapped her remaining strength.

Cruz angled his body between her and the rear door of the courtroom, but he needn’t have bothered. She’d already seen all the dead and wounded, had memorized the sight of Ayman and Darwish’s dead bodies, the puddles of blood staining the marble floor.

Outside the sights and smells only got worse. Her eyes automatically scanned the area, searching for more threats.

The stench of burned metal stung her nose, the sight of people bleeding from shrapnel and bullet wounds, some bodies covered with tarps and sheets, others still lying out in the open, broke her heart. Police and other security agents swarmed the area. Beyond the twisted ruins of the inner security gate, emergency vehicles flooded the area, the constant blaring of sirens and the flashing strobe lights making her dizzy.

“Whoa,” Cruz said, tightening his grip when her legs gave out. He bent to slide one arm beneath her legs but she protested and pushed against his shoulder until he straightened.

She needed to walk out of here on her own two feet. Prove to herself that she had the strength to do it. “Did you g-get all of them?” she asked him.

“All of them,” he confirmed. “They’re either down or captured.”

She nodded, relief bleeding through her. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” His arm remained around her in a solid hold she appreciated all the way out to one of the waiting ambulances.

Again she protested. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding. Your right leg and shoulder.”

Now that some of the numbness had retreated she was aware of the sharp sting in her right calf and the warm trickle of blood down her right shoulder blade. She stubbornly shook her head. “Others need help more than me.” She didn’t want to take the paramedics away from someone else who needed them more.

“Yeah, but you’re a star federal witness and Nate’s asked me personally to look after you. We’ll get you triaged, then I’ll take a look at you, patch you up before we get you out of here.”

“Where am I going?”

“Nate’s place. A team of agents is going to take you there for the night until WITSEC can send another team for you.”

Oh God, she couldn’t wait to see Nathan. Going to his place was such a welcome relief that she let out a shuddering breath. Cruz walked her to the closest ambulance and sat her down on a blanket. He checked her over, took her pulse and cleaned her up with some alcohol wipes one of the paramedics handed him. His touch was gentle, professional as he bandaged up her shoulder blade.

She flinched when he probed at the deeper slice on the back of her calf, the alcohol burning like fire in the wound.

“Sorry,” Cruz murmured. “Gotta get this clean.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. The pain continued to increase as the minutes passed, every cut, scrape and bruise making themselves known but Taya didn’t utter a sound. She watched as a woman on a stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, the stump of her right shoulder covered in blood-soaked bandages.

Taya shuddered and looked away, bit her lip as Cruz finished putting on the bandages and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Even with the thick material draped around her she couldn’t warm up. She was cold all the way to her bones, frozen inside. Was Duncan going to make it? When would she see Nathan again?

When he was done Cruz got on the radio and requested agent support. Two FBI agents appeared at his side a few minutes later. He explained the situation and gently helped her to her feet. The female agent slipped her arm around Taya and began to lead her away.

Taya stopped and grabbed Cruz’s forearm, bringing his light brown gaze back to her. “You’ll take care of Nathan for me?” She was worried about him. Going through this attack today, nearly losing her, might amplify the symptoms of his PTSD.

His lips quirked, his eyes warming. “As long as you’re safe, he’ll be okay. But yeah, I’ll watch out for him. On this team all of us watch out for each other. It’s what we do.”

That made Taya smile. “You guys are like family to him, you know.”

Cruz nodded. “We’re all just brothers from other mothers. Some of us better looking than the rest.” A dimple appeared in his cheek as he grinned. “Agents Rosedale and Timmins will take you to Nate’s now, and watch the place overnight. Not sure when Nate’ll be home though, so don’t wait up. Get some sleep if you can.”

“Okay.” She’d wait up though. She’d wait as long as it took for him to come home, and she doubted she’d be able to sleep anyway.

The agents drove her to Nathan’s upscale apartment, checked it for her then left her alone while they kept watch outside.

Taya wandered around the place, taking in the layout. He kept it tidy. The dark, masculine furniture suited him and she could smell the faint scent of his cologne in the air. On the mantel were pictures of him during his days in the Air Force, including one of him and O’Neil. A few others were of him and some of his current teammates.

She wandered into his bedroom, saw the neatly made king-size bed and couldn’t wait to nestle in it. She knew he’d taken other women there before her, but she didn’t care. What mattered was now, and he wasn’t the same person he’d been even a week ago. Already she’d seen him trying to change. There was no doubt in her mind that she meant something important to him, just as he did to her.

After scrubbing the residual blood off her in the shower and washing her hair, she toweled it dry, grabbed a T-shirt from Nathan’s closet and curled up beneath the comforter on his big bed. She wasn’t planning to sleep but the adrenaline crash had left her exhausted so she allowed herself to close her eyes and rest.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of a key scraping in the lock. It was full dark outside and she was surprised to see it was two-fifteen in the morning when she looked at the bedside clock. The lock turned.

Nathan.

Her heart leapt and she sat up, wincing as her cuts and bruises protested the movement. On bare feet she hurried to the front door.

Nathan stepped through it and flipped on the foyer light. His face lit up when he saw her standing there, taking away the exhaustion etched into his features.

With a glad cry Taya rushed for him. He caught her in his arms with a rough sound and lifted her off her feet, his face buried in her hair. The muscles in his arms shook as he held her tight to him, seeming to take as much comfort from the embrace as she did.

“Let me look at you,” he murmured, easing her head away from his shoulder to tip her face up. His eyes roved over her, his fingertips tracing over the marks on her chin. With a low sound he kissed the tip of her nose, her lips, her chin, his arms tight around her.