Digitalis (37 page)

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Authors: Ronie Kendig

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Digitalis
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Assassin. The world nearly buckled her knees. Killing … how could he do that after Bazak’s senseless death? She’d definitely need to talk to him at length later.

“The longer we stand here talking, the closer they will be to their targets, nachon?”

“What’s with the nachos?” the Kid asked.


Nachon
. It’s like saying
right
,” Piper answered without thinking.

Midas grinned. And popped the Kid’s head. “He’s just messing with you.”

“I’m going to hit the next person who does that.”

Baba moved toward the Kid. Pointed a finger. “You are in Israel, and we will do as my people do. Respect your elders, nachon?” The emphasis on that last word and the sparkle in his eyes couldn’t be missed despite the bruises and cuts.

“Dude.” The Kid backed up a step. “Step off.” He returned to the door and peered through the pulled-to curtain. “I’ll scout it out.” With that, he rushed into the night.

“Enough,” Max said with a growl. “We move out. Rendezvous back with Ben-Haim.”

“We must go to Be’er Sheva.”

“Ben-Haim.” Max held his ground.

So did her father.

“Shh, Baba.” Hands on her father’s chest, she tried to steady him. These men were on edge, and her father’s rambling—innocent but insistent rambling—worsened the mood. Azzan certainly hadn’t helped. Even now he looked at the large black man in a silent challenge, which Legend matched. The two would kill each other before this was over.

“Kid gave the all clear,” Midas called from the door, where he peeked out into the night.

“Okay, let’s go.” Max motioned to Colton. “Help them if they need it.”

“We’re fine,” Azzan said.

Her father, though slight after his captivity, was still heavy. She wasn’t sure she could make it. Shrugging her shoulder under his arm for better positioning, she glanced at Azzan. “We might need that help you just shoved away.”

His piercing eyes snapped to hers. Full of anger. “We’re fine. If I have to, I’ll carry him before I let them—”

“No.” Baba groaned. “No, we must go to Be’er Sheva.” He glanced at Max. “Please, if we don’t, it will be too late. Al-Jafari has mobilized.”

“Not my problem. Back to base.” Max gave signals to the team.

Why wouldn’t they listen to her father? Didn’t they understand this wasn’t about just them … about her father only? He’d done all this, endured long hard months of hiding and captivity, to save millions of people.
My people
.

“If my father believes there is danger—”

“Piper,” Colton’s voice sailed from behind, warming her by its strength. “Leave it. We can’t break orders.”

She looked back at him, disappointment chugging through her veins, and yet—it hit her. He wasn’t glaring at her like he’d been doing just a few hours earlier. Even here in the middle of a mission and dressed in tactical gear, she saw the cowboy she loved. The man with a tender heart. The man with unwavering resolve.

Her father stumbled, almost dragging her down with him. Together with Azzan, they got him back on his feet. But he twisted around to Max, who stood near the door, watching as two of the guys left the room.

“You must listen, nachon?” Baba moved forward. His forward momentum forced her to aid him lest he fall. “There is no time. Be’er Sheva.”

“All quiet,” Max said.

Piper swallowed hard.

Baba shifted to Azzan. “How can we make them understand?”

Almost instantly, two M4s snapped up—Legend’s and Colton’s.

“Go on,” Legend’s words seemed to seep from his very being. His lips hadn’t moved. Challenge darkened his eyes. Body angled straight at Azzan, he looked ready to riddle her cousin with bullets.

The expression in Colton’s eyes held the same determination.

She couldn’t blame them. Learning about her cousin unseated any confidence she’d had in him, especially learning he had worked for the Palestinians. Nervous didn’t come close to explaining what she felt. Though he’d been raised in Palestine, they’d visited through the years, and their relationship had always been strong. But this man—the man with balled fists and sneering lips—she didn’t know him.

“Quiet,” Max said with a snarl. He signaled to Legend, then to Azzan. “You two. Together. Go!”

Hesitation gripped both men, as if their feet were planted several feet underground. They considered each other. Then Legend grabbed Azzan’s collar and yanked him out the door. Her stomach swirled, remembering how her cousin had never liked to be handled. Legend would figure that out soon, she imagined.

“Cowboy, we’ll cradle the old man.” Max hooked an arm under her father’s shoulder, his eyes on hers. “Stay with us.”

Huddling close, she kept a hand on her father, feeling somehow as if she were helping, even though the tangle of legs as she tried to keep pace with the three men made it almost impossible. Just as they cleared the grassy area, she noticed the steady
thwump
of a helicopter. The noise intensified as they fought the shifting sand to get to the big craft sitting up the stretch of the beach.

Wind ripped at her. Beads of sand pepped her face. Eyes squeezed shut, she pushed onward. The force of the rotors seemed to push her back. She stumbled. Pulled herself up—and fell again. The ground gave way, making it impossible to gain traction against that and the gale-force winds of the helicopter.

An arm came around her and hauled her up, dragged her toward the bird. She tried to blink and clear the sand from her eyes so she could board. Her shin banged against the narrow step. She pitched forward—her hands planted on the interior.

In a humiliating move, someone gave her backside a shove, propelling her inside. Piper scrambled, feeling the heat rush up her neck and into her face as she climbed into the canvas rack seat. Wiping her eyes, she tried to make sense of the interior, but the dark hour made it next to impossible.

A weight dropped next to her.

“Two years Israeli Army, huh?” Colton’s near-shout increased her embarrassment. The helicopter lifted, pressing her against the seat—and yet to the side as the nose dipped, then pulled up and leveled out.

Though she wasn’t sure, Piper thought she heard a smile in his words. Still she didn’t know what to say, and the thought of him pushing her through the door by her rear end renewed the heat infusing her face. Humiliating! She’d never been so clumsy. And it had to be right in front of him that she fell and couldn’t gain traction. She couldn’t even see! The sand kept shifting.

What was the use? She’d proven his point that she wasn’t trained and capable to be here. Yet … she’d made it. They’d completed the mission—well, almost. Just a few more minutes, and her father would be safe.

He leaned forward and shouted something to Max, who sat by the open door as they sped through Israeli airspace. Because of the deafening roar of the engines combined with the air rushing through the chopper, she couldn’t hear what they said.

When Colton sat back, his broad shoulders overlapped into her space, pressing her against the interior hull of the helicopter. A second later, he seemed to relax, and now she felt pinned. Oddly enough, she found comfort in the position, as if he were protecting her. Piper met Raiyah’s gaze and the smirk lingering on the girl’s pink lips.

Shaking and shuddering, the bird numbed her entire body. Almost without effort, her eyes started to drift closed.

“RPG, three o’clock, incoming!” Piper’s eyes snapped open. The chopper veered left. Hard. She gripped the seat tightly.

A bright flash shattered the night. Pain darted across the back of her head. In a blink, darkness devoured her.

Smoke billowed up in a thick, dark cloud, blotting out the pale moon. Colton jerked himself upright, coughing. He dragged in a long, ragged breath as he extricated himself from a tangle of supplies and people. Rosenblum lay beneath him, holding Colton off his chest. The world had tilted—no, not the world. The helicopter lay partially on one side.

“You okay?” Colton asked, noting his ears felt plugged.

The old man nodded.

On his knees, Colton let his instincts absorb the information in a split-second recon. An RPG attack. Meant shooters. Meant someone would hunt them down. And those someones were probably on their way already. They had to clear out.

“Move out before they find us or this bird blows,” Max shouted, as if reading Colton’s mind. He dragged himself to the rear of the Mi-17 toward the hatch that now hung open.

Blinking, Colton helped Rosenblum to his feet. “You steady?”

The thick tendrils of smoke trailed through the cabin and encircled the old man. He smoothed his shirt, but then his eyes widened. “Where is Lily?”

The question jerked Colton up. He probed the figures looming in the smoke at the tail of the bird. Not there. He twisted around and searched the disarray. He flung boxes aside. “Maybe she’s already—”

There!
He lunged to his right, where he saw her legs in the tangle of supplies. “Piper!” Ripping packs off her, Colton worked, his heart thundering. “Piper.” He dropped to the metal floor and turned her over. She flopped. His heart rammed up into his throat. He bent closer.
No!

“Is she breathing?” her father asked, his voice riddled with the same fear Colton fought.

“Cowboy, out. Now!” Max clambered into the bird toward Rosenblum. “Rabbi, come on.”

The old man straightened as he looked toward Max. “I am not—”

“Now!” Max shouted.

Colton gathered Piper into his arms and rushed out of the chopper, trailing her father. He’d no sooner cleared the opening, when he probed the huddle of men for the doc. “Medic!”

Midas turned. Even with the smoke and darkness, the moonlight seemed to glow against his widened eyes. He jogged toward them. “What happened?” He pressed two fingers to her neck.

“Dunno,” Colton said he laid her on the ground.

“Pulse is fine.” With a small blue light, Midas checked her eyes.

Piper groaned and turned away.

“Easy there,” Midas said.

A wash of relief dumped into Colton’s gut as Piper rolled her head—then winced. Her eyes opened, then pinched closed—apparently because of Midas’s light.

“Piper, what hurts?” Colton asked as he knelt beside her.

“Hey,” Midas said, “I’m the medic.”

“Right.” Good thing it was dark and they couldn’t see the red heat plowing into his face.

“My head,” she mumbled as she tried to sit up, then yelped and grabbed the back of her head.

Midas shifted around. “Whacked it pretty good. There’s a bloody spot, but it’s not oozing still, so that’s good. I’ll clean it up in a sec.” Crouching before her, he held up the pen light. “Follow my light.”

Piper grimaced, but followed the light through pinched eyes.

“How many lights can you see?”

“One—and it’s bright.”

“I think you’ve got a mild concussion.” Midas chuckled. “Okay, let me clean it up.” With his kit, he did his best to clean up the spot and put a bandage over it. “This will probably hurt more when you remove it and pull your hair out with it.” He tied up his kit. As he stood, he pivoted to Colton. “Keep an eye on her for the usual—nausea, dizziness, you know the drill.”

Colton nodded.

“Okay, people,” Max said. “Heard from Ben-Haim.”

The tone in Max’s voice forced Colton’s attention away from Piper.

“We’re on our own.” His eyes held the fury Colton had seen far

too often. “Since we aren’t supposed to be here, let’s make that true. We have roughly four kilometers to the facility.” “No, we must go to Be’er Sheva.”

“Sorry, old man,” Max said as he slung his pack over his shoulder. “We’re getting our tails back to the base before someone makes Swiss cheese of us.”

This was his chance to gain their trust. Not to be pals with them. But to maneuver this situation in his favor. “I know a place we can go.” Azzan glanced at Raiyah and tucked aside his roiling emotions.

The leader, they’d called him Frogman, looked at him. Eyes dark and foreboding. Questions lingered but also a desperation that nearly made Azzan smile. They had no choice but to trust him. Out here in the open with Bedouins. Islamic radicals. Israeli police. It really didn’t matter who shot them down. If the Americans were caught here, there would be a merciless uproar and slaughter.

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