“Aurora.” Dr. Rawlins’s eyes shimmered with recognition. “Aurora Weber. And you’re…Brody.”
Brody blinked as one corner of his bearded mouth turned upward with a sideways grin. “Wow. That’s, uh…” He cleared his throat. “That’s some memory you have there, Doc.”
He was rewarded with a ghost of a smile. “So I’ve been told.”
But even as the tension visibly eased in her wary shoulders, the woman’s pretty eyes remained haunted by a look Rocky had seen far too many times. Like the two other remaining hostages, dark shadows of exhaustion and fear marred the delicate skin beneath them.
“We have two transport vans waiting half a mile from here,” Brody told Dr. Rawlins and the others. “We understand you’re exhausted, and if anyone’s injured or is unable to make it that far?—”
“We can walk.” Florence Cohen, the Australian nurse, stepped forward. Glancing back at the only male hostage to survive the ordeal, the sixty-year-old aid worker said to the man, “Isn’t that right, Felipe?”
Resting his knees next to his fallen colleague, Felipe Alfaro brought his heartbroken, watery gaze up to hers. “Yes. I can walk.” The fifty-eight-year-old man’s voice was rough, the single nod he gave almost wooden in its delivery as his gaze fell backdown to the man lying dead before him. “But w-what about Emil?” Those tortured eyes searched those staring back at him for an answer. “We can’t just leave him here. Not like this.”
Emiliano Martinez was the name of the murdered hostage, and it was clear to Rocky and the others that Felipe cared a great deal about his friend.
“Emil’s body will be delivered to his family,” Jagger promised the mourning man. “You have our word on that. But first, we need to get the three of you to safety.”
Rocky could tell Felipe wanted to argue, but thankfully, the educated man understood what had to be done. Leaning down, he placed a palm to Emil’s forehead and began whispering something in his fallen friend’s ear.
When he was finished, Felipe made the sign of the cross before kissing his thumb and pushing himself back up to his feet.
“All right.” Thick emotion tightened the man’s shaky voice. “Now, we may go.”
Rocky and his fellow teammates gave the man a nod before escorting the three survivors out of the building. From there, they immediately began the half-mile trek to their awaiting vehicles, doing their best to shield the hostages’ view of the bodies as they went.
The group’s movements were slower due to the weakened state of those they’d rescued, but the men of Delta were understanding and patient. And it was with silent mouths and somber hearts that Rocky and his fellow teammates led three of the four kidnapped souls to freedom.
Four hours later,the men of Delta Team were back in the air and well on their way back to the States. With Jagger behind the controls of Homeland’s large, ultra-long-range private jet, andLiam warming the co-pilot’s seat, Rocky and the others were in their usual seats in the plane’s spacious cabin.
After a quick conference call with Homeland, they confirmed their delivery of Felipe and Florence to their respective homes, and that Dr. Rawlins was safe and under the watchful eye of the team. There’d be an official debriefing later, but that would take place behind closed doors and out of civilian earshot.
Each team member would also have to write up a report detailing the op from start to completion, but Rocky planned to catch a few Zs before tackling that particular job.
Movement pulled his attention to the right in time to see Cade get up from his seat across the aisle and head to the back. At first, Rocky assumed the other man was heading to the jet’s bathroom, but then the thirty-year-old sniper inexplicably sat in a different seat further back.
By himself.
Near the rear of the jet.
That’s…odd.
Having chosen a window seat at the very back, the Rawlins woman had kept to herself since first boarding the plane. It wasn’t uncommon after surviving an ordeal like the one she and the other two hostages had just experienced, and Rocky and the others understood her need to be alone better than most.
Which was why Cade’s choice to move closer to her was confusing.
Rocky thought back to the top, replaying the op from the moment they’d entered the building to now. Specifically, he tried to pull memories of Cade’s demeanor during the last part of their night.
The way his teammate had cautiously approached Dr. Rawlins immediately following the raid on the men who’d been holding her and the others captive. Rocky considered theguy’s gentle tone…the look on his face…the way he’d walked protectively near her during their hike to the vans. And now…
Rocky slid his young teammate an indiscernible glance from over his shoulder. Cade’s head was turned, and it appeared he was staring at nothing through the small, oval window to the man’s right.
But even from here, the other man’s clean-shaven reflection was clear as day to see. And Cade’s focus…it wasn’t on the never-ending black sky. It was on the reflected image of the woman curled up in her seat a couple rows back.
Ah,hell. Not again.
Rocky had already bore witness to two of his teammates falling hard in the midst of danger. Christian and his wife, Megan—who also happened to be Brody’s little sister—had gotten together when she became the target of a killer after a good deed made her a potential witness.
Not long after, Brody fell boots over ass for Megan’s best friend, Ro, while protecting her from a man who turned out to be a ghost from Brody’s past. A man who’d drugged Ro, prompting her and Brody’s visit to the E.R., where Dr. Rawlins happened to work.