Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9) (28 page)

BOOK: Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9)
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At one time he would have done it instantly, without hesitation, his need for retribution overpowering everything else.

But that had been back when he’d had nothing to lose. Now he did, because Georgia had changed that. She’d changed
everything
. And he wasn’t willing to go back to prison for killing Perez and live the rest of his life without her, no matter how good it would have felt in the moment.

“Dying’s too easy for you,” he answered coldly, and stepped back, detaching himself from this man, his former life. “I want you to know what it feels like to lose everything you ever loved.”

Like he had. First his mother. Then his
abuelita
. Then Georgia. And finally the man he’d have given his life for.

It was gratifying to know Perez would suffer that same sense of loss. Only in his case, the loss would be permanent, whereas Bautista had somehow been given a second chance. With Georgia.

He watched the words hit home, the resignation fill Perez’s eyes before they went blank with the reality of what was coming.

Bautista dropped the knife and raised both hands in a gesture of surrender as the team reached them.

While Tuck and the others cuffed Perez and secured the area, Rycroft stalked over, his face livid. “What the fuck was that?” he demanded, shoving a hand into Bautista’s chest. “You know how close you came to getting shot up in that tunnel?”

“The op was to take him alive. And we did.”

Rycroft shook his head, his expression full of frustration. “That was fucking stupid. I thought being with Georgia would have made you realize you’ve got something else—someone else—to live for.”

“It did,” he answered flatly. “That’s the only reason he’s still breathing.” He jerked his chin at Perez, standing cuffed with a ring of HRT guys around him and Schroder doing a patch job on the wound in his shoulder. Bautista would rather have left him bleeding.

Rycroft glared at him for another few seconds, then stepped back. “Well I guess that’s something, at least,” he muttered.

A voice over their comms interrupted him, from one of the HRT sniper team members. “Perimeter is clear, all tangos neutralized. But we’ve got a problem.”

In the pause that followed, something about the man’s tone triggered a surge of dread.

“Georgia and Briar are both down. We’re moving in to help now.”

Bautista jerked to a halt, met Rycroft’s gaze. “Say again?” he rasped out, praying he’d misunderstood.

“They’re both down,” the man repeated.

His heart plummeted into his boots, his entire body going cold. “Where are they?” he demanded, every muscle rigid.

“On the west lawn, near the path leading down to the water.”

Panic blasted through him. Without a word he turned and raced back up the stairs, his only thought of reaching Georgia.

 

****

 

Something was tickling the side of her face. But it was dark and she couldn’t see. Couldn’t make her muscles move.

Sounds began to register. The thump of her heart. Disjointed voices, coming through her earpiece.

Georgia’s eyelids flickered open. She was disoriented, confused and weak. Her cheek was pressed against something damp and ticklish and it smelled like…grass.

Groaning, she forced her stiff muscles to obey her and rolled stiffly to her side. Her rifle lay on the grass beside her. What the hell had happened? Something had hit her in the left leg, then electrocuted her.

As soon as she glanced down, she saw why. Three barbs attached to wires protruded from her camo pants. A fucking Taser.

No, some kind of fucking pressure sensitive or laser-activated Taser system. She’d either landed on a pressure plate or triggered some kind of invisible tripwire.

“Sonofabitch,” she muttered, gritting her teeth as she pulled them out one by one. When she flung them aside, she caught sight of someone lying on the grass close to her.

Briar. And she wasn’t moving.


Briar
,” she said sharply. Alarmed when her teammate didn’t respond, Georgia scrambled over to her on hands and knees, rolled her into recovery position on her side.

She wasn’t breathing. A press of two fingers under her jaw told her the worst part.

No pulse.

Georgia immediately rolled her to her back and checked her airway. Nothing was blocking it. Maybe that Taser had stopped her heart.

No. No, you can’t die on me.

Briar had risked so much to find her, help her. She couldn’t die. She had so much to live for now. Georgia had to save her.

Stacking her hands on Briar’s sternum, she began rapid compressions. “Briar’s down,” she forced out between compressions, knowing the team would hear her as she cast a frantic look around. “She’s not breathing and there’s no pulse. I’m doing CPR now. Get a medic up here
now
.”

Briar still hadn’t responded in any way and there was still no pulse.

Swearing, Georgia performed a jaw thrust and gave her two breaths, then immediately resumed the quick compressions.

“Come on Briar,” she gritted out, sweat beading her brow, the muscles in her back and shoulders already burning. “Don’t do this to me. You have to breathe.”

 

****

 

She’s not breathing and there’s no pulse.

Those terrible words echoed in his ears like a death knell.

Bent over the desk, hands gripping the edge of it, Matt stared at the screens before him. One showed a live feed of Tuck’s helmet cam down in the underground grotto. The other, a feed from one of the snipers.

The latter were running across the lawn. He saw Briar lying on the grass on her back, Georgia bent over her doing chest compressions.

Raw terror exploded inside him as he faced his ultimate waking nightmare.

Briar!

Her name was a silent scream searing through his brain. Every muscle in his body tightened like steel cables, about to snap.

Matt turned and tore out of the mobile command center, racing through the brush that filled the most direct path to her. His heart slammed sickeningly against his ribs, his throat so tight it felt like he was slowly choking.

Images flooded his brain, dredged up from the vault where he’d locked them in his head.

Lisa lying on her back beside their pool, her skin turning purple and then blue as he desperately tried to revive her. Watching her die right in front of him, helpless to do anything but hold her as her body grew cold.

Grief clawed at him, a strangled moan getting trapped in his throat. He couldn’t lose Briar too. Just couldn’t. There was no way he could bear that.

He leaped over a tall hedge that marked the edge of the lawn, his boots pounding over the short grass. Up ahead he saw Georgia working on Briar, someone else running flat out toward them. Schroder.

The medic dropped to his knees, ripped open a medical bag. “What happened?” Matt heard him ask.

“Some kind of Taser,” Georgia answered, panting from the exertion of the continual compressions.

Matt skidded to his knees beside them and reached for her. “Briar.” His voice cracked. She was so still, her skin already turning purple. He shoved Georgia aside and started compressions, not stopping even as Schroder cut her shirt and bra away and placed the automated defibrillator pads directly against her skin. “How long?” he rasped out.

“Just a few seconds,” Schroder answered, all his attention on what he was doing.

It was agonizing. Every second felt like an hour, and he swore he could feel her skin growing colder beneath his hands.


Briar
,” he said hoarsely, his heart cracking into a thousand pieces. “Come on, honey, hang on. Come back to me.”

No answer. No pulse.

Just like Lisa. She’s going to die right in front of me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

The tears flooded his eyes and there was no stopping them. He was so fucking scared, couldn’t even face the thought of being without Briar.

“Clear,” Schroder commanded.

It killed him to lift his hands, to lose that contact with her, but he forced himself to let go. Schroder hit the button and her torso jerked with the force of the current. They both reached for her carotid pulse at the same time.

Come on, baby, come on
, he prayed, his face wet and his heart bleeding.

A faint throb pressed against his searching fingertips.

“God,” he cried and grasped her face, desperate to reach her while Schroder checked her airway. “Briar. Briar,
please
…”

Her chest moved. It fucking moved as she inhaled.

Drawing a slight amount of air into her lungs all on her own.

A sob broke free, torn from the depth of his chest. “
Yes
. Come on, baby. Breathe for me and open your eyes.” He’d give fucking anything for that.

“Pulse is getting stronger,” Schroder said, giving him an encouraging half-smile. “Come on, Briar, do as the man said.”

Matt stared at her face, praying, taking every shallow breath with her. “Can you hear me?” he asked her. “I’m right here, honey, just open your eyes and look at me.”

That’s all he wanted. He refused to even contemplate that she might have brain damage.
God, just don’t take her from me.

Her eyelids moved. Her lashes fluttered.

And then her eyes cracked open. She blinked, looked up at him and a little frown creased her forehead. “Matt,” she said weakly.

“God. Oh
God
,” he cried, wrapping his arms under her shoulders, one hand supporting the back of her head as he lifted her against his chest.

He felt her hands lightly touch his back and he lost it completely as he held her tight. So tight his arms shook.

He was vaguely aware of Georgia placing a hand on his shoulder and then rising, aware that they’d drawn a crowd and he was still crying, shaking, but he didn’t care about any of it. All he cared was that Briar was alive and he was holding her.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before Schroder put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

He looked up to find all his guys kneeling around him, relieved smiles on their faces. Even that bastard Bautista.

Unable to stop touching her, Matt cupped the side of her face as Schroder spoke to her and checked her out. He wiped the heel of his free hand over his face, struggling to get his breath back.

A tissue appeared in front of him. He glanced up to see Georgia holding it out to him. There were tears in her eyes. Bautista was there beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Thanks,” he murmured, then mopped one-handed at his face.

“I’m guessing it was a close call,” Briar murmured weakly.

The sound of her voice nearly made him lose it all over again. Matt drew in a shuddering breath and nodded. “Yeah. Way too fucking close.”

“Good thing I’m stubborn.”

At that he cracked a grin. She
was
stubborn. Sometimes it drove him crazy, like the way she refused to talk about getting married even after living together for almost a year, or having a family one day.

But right now he was so fucking grateful for her bull-headedness and the sheer determination she possessed. “Yeah.”

“I knew you secretly loved it that I’m stubborn.”

He let out a watery laugh and bent to kiss her again. He planned on kissing her a lot over the next few days, just to reassure himself that she was still here. “Stop talking. No more talking until Schroder says it’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” the medic said wryly. “I prefer it, actually. We’ve gotta keep her alert until the EMTs get here.”

Briar scowled. “I don’t need EMTs. I’m fine now.”

Matt shook his head at her, loving her so damn much it hurt. He was a fucking wreck, this op the last thing on his mind. Perez was in custody, and all that mattered was that Briar was alive. Screw his responsibilities, screw his job. Screw everything but her.

“You’re as bad as them,” he said, nodding toward his team.

She closed her eyes as though the conversation exhausted her, but there was a little smile on her lips. “It’s cuz I’m badass.”

“You sure are,” he told her, giving her another kiss. When he raised his head, he searched out Tuck and Rycroft. “I’m done,” he said simply, knowing they’d understand what he meant. “Can you guys take over from here?”

“Of course, man, no worries,” Tuck said as Rycroft nodded. “You just go take care of your girl.”

“Thanks.” Because there was no way he was leaving her side for the rest of the night at least.

Or maybe ever.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

“That was so damn scary.”

Bautista wrapped his arms around Georgia from behind as they watched the EMTs load Briar into the back of a waiting ambulance. They’d been on scene within minutes of Schroder arriving at her side. “You did great.”

“God, I never want to have to do that again for someone I care about. Poor guy,” she murmured, watching as DeLuca climbed into the back. Bautista saw him take Briar’s hand an instant before the rear doors closed.

“He’ll be fine now that she’s gonna be okay.”

Georgia nodded, the softness of her hair snagging on the whiskers on his chin.

He turned her, took her face in his hands. Those pale blue eyes stared up at him in the moonlight, hypnotic in their power.

Look at you, waxing all fucking poetic.

He mentally shrugged at the cynical voice because she did that to him. Made him see life in a way he never had.

“I’ve never been scared like that before. Not like that.” Not even when he’d walked in to find his beloved grandmother lying bleeding on the kitchen floor. “When I heard that sniper say you were down…”

He let the sentence trail off because he just couldn’t finish it. Couldn’t even put into words what he’d gone through in those few minutes between hearing the news and seeing her alive and well, working on Briar. So he could only imagine how DeLuca had felt.

Rather than tell him he was being ridiculous or shrug it off, she smiled, sheer joy making her eyes sparkle. “I’m glad you love me that much.”

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