“Is Jenna…?”
A voice came over the radio.
“Cobra this is Helo One. We’re en route to Kabul with three casualties, all critical. Tower and Hamilton are confirmed missing. Tower is believed to be wounded.”
Jenna’s heart sank. “Oh, my God. They got her. I blew it, and they got her. Now, she and Derek are missing and the others are wounded.”
“It’s no’ your fault, Elizabeth. Kazi is a smart bastard. Somehow, he figured it out. That’s no’ your doin’.”
“I tried to stall. I kept telling them I was Jenna, even after they knew I wasn’t.”
“You did all you could do. Dinnae blame yourself.”
The drive back to the compound was surreal, Elizabeth listening as Cobra operators and staff did everything they could to save the wounded men’s lives and launch a rescue operation for Tower and Jenna.
When they got back to the compound, Quinn called the ops room via his radio to let them know he and Elizabeth were safely back. Then he helped Elizabeth out of the vehicle. “Let’s get you to Doc Sullivan, have him check you out. It looks like they struck you pretty hard.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t want to waste—”
“You’ve got a bloody lip and a bruised cheek. You need to be seen.” He shepherded her to the elevator. The moment the doors closed, he drew her into his arms. “It’s okay, Lilibet. You’re safe now.”
His body armor was unyielding, but his embrace was warm, a sanctuary.
“I don’t want to know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come for me.”
“Do you think we would let those fuckers take you to that bastard Kazi?”
“I can’t believe you intimidated them into letting me go.” Quinn had seemed absolutely fearless. “You were outnumbered. You could have been killed.”
“Kazi’s men are bullies, and bullies are cowards. When they know you’re no’ goin’ to back off, that you mean what you say, they buckle. There’s no way I’d have let them kill you. I had that bastard’s forehead in my sites. I’d have blown his head wide open afore he could squeeze off a shot.”
She smiled, touched by his gory attempt to comfort her. “You always know just what to say to a woman.”
He led her to medical and left her with Doc Sullivan, his blue eyes telling her that he wished he could stay. “You’re in good hands now.”
She wished he could stay, too.
“Quinn!” she called after him.
He stopped. “Aye?”
“Thank you.”
Her words were woefully inadequate. The man had risked his life to rescue her, forcing four armed fighters to let her go.
He grinned, his smile giving her belly flutters. “Always.”
1
Quinn McManus unlocked his gear cage and walked inside, the Scottish flag hanging on the back wall, marking the space as his. He set his duffel on the bench, that familiar gloominess rising inside him. He felt this way at the end of every deployment and had learned to ignore it—with the help of Bell’s whisky.
You’re no’ right in the heid, man.
What reason did he have to feel dour? The team had gotten the senator to and from his meeting with Afghan military leaders, and not a shot had been fired. It had been a textbook operation, the kind of mission that had earned Cobra International Security its reputation as a top-of-the-line private military company.
“Home, sweet home,” said Nick Andris, whose cage stood next to Quinn’s. Andris had been with Cobra since it began operations, joining after a career with Delta Force and the Central Intelligence Agency.
“I bet you can’t wait to get back to your sweet baby girl,” said Malik Jones, a former Army Ranger.