SEALs of Honor: Mason (2 page)

Therefore, they might as well kill her now.

Her team could finish the job for the Pentagon.

Maybe.

A tree branch rustled against the wall in front of her sending a heavy wave of pine scent into her nostrils. The shack was so old and rickety she figured a good shove and it would collapse. The sound came again.

She froze. Please don’t let it be him again. The leader of this pack had terrified her. That he was as American as she was, made it all that much worse. She hated him. What he was doing. Why he was doing it. He’d been very voluble in what was happening and why. His explanations made her hurt that people like him existed. Poor humanity. It was doomed.

According to him, she was to be collected in an hour and taken to her new owner. Just putting collected and owner together in the same sentence with her name made her cringe. And that hour was well gone. She had no idea where the men were, but as she had nowhere to go, and couldn’t move to begin with, she lay frozen on the bed. And waited for someone to help her.

And hoped she hadn’t been forgotten or deemed not important.

A tiny drilling sound started right in front of her face. A minuscule hole opened up. She tried to shift back so her face wasn’t in the firing line, but a tiny white light flashed in her eyes regardless. A startled exclamation sound followed with the light being immediately shut off.

She had nowhere to go. No place to hide.

The door opened quickly. She tried to sit up so she could see but could only lift her head and twist. The doorway was empty. Groaning, she flopped back down.

“Damn wind.”

“Yeah, wind, that’s me.” A deep husky whisper floated over her head then suddenly hot breath rippled against her neck. She closed her eyes, shaking, waiting. Friend or foe?

A hand slapped over her mouth. Her eyes opened in shock, and she tried to pull back. Only the restraint holding her arms back released. Her mouth opened, a soundless cry escaped.

“Shh. Not a sound.”

Her body shuddered in agony as her arms flopped forward.

“I’m here to rescue you,” he whispered in low tones. “Do you understand?”

She shot him a fulminating look but gave a short clipped nod.

He slowly removed his hand. “Good. I’m going to sit you up and straighten your shoulders, so they will ease up faster. Ready?”

She nodded again. Like hell she was ready. Was anyone ever? But he gently helped her into a sitting position, her arms falling uselessly at her side.

He grabbed her shoulders and forcibly moved them back and forth, rotating them one at a time. Then he grabbed one arm and gave it a shake. He squeezed her hand. “Squeeze back.”

She tried but the effort showed how little life was in her muscles.

“Harder,” he snapped.

She glared at him. “I am.”

“No talking.”

Her gaze should have sharpened and should have been able to slice him to pieces, but then the pins and needles started, and it was all she could do to not scream. She tried to pull her arm back but he wouldn’t let go, instead he gripped her hand stronger and roughly massaged her muscles. Like that was helping.

But surprisingly enough, it seemed to. Next time she managed to squeeze his hand when he clenched them again.

“Much better. Now the other one.”

Knowing it was going to help, she willingly went through the process. As soon as she could feel and grip again, he stood up and tugged her to her feet. She swayed from the suddenness of the movement.

His gaze narrowed and he opened his mouth.

She shook her head and mouthed, “I’m fine.”

He slipped to the doorway, peered outside. Then tugging her behind him, they raced to the cover of the trees. Once there, he slammed her against the trunk and covered her body with his back.

Squished but happy to be out of her restraints and away from the cabin, she wanted to keep going. He was talking in low tones to someone. Then without saying a word to her, he grabbed her hand and ran deeper into the woods. She had no choice but to follow.

Only he moved silently and she moved like an ox. Several times he turned and warned her to be quiet. Like she knew how to do that. The dry leaves crackled under foot, and there were bushes she had to constantly dodge.

And damn it, she was tired. Her legs were killing her. And she wore flats. Perfect for what she’d been doing and sucked big time for a panicked flight over rough terrain. She had no idea where she was. She’d been en route to Coronado, California yesterday. At least she thought it was yesterday but given she’d been drugged and her arm still hurt at the injection site, she could have been out for days. All she knew was that the sun was setting overhead, and she didn’t recognize her surroundings. If they’d flown her somewhere she could be anywhere. That terrified her. What if she was across the world with no ID or passport?

Her rescuer slowed down and without warning shoved her behind him up against a tree again. Her back slammed against the scratchy bark. Thank God for the respite. She gasped for air. Her breath loud and raspy. She couldn’t do anything about it, she had no fitness training for something like this. She did her gym time like everyone else, but running a couple of miles on a treadmill was a different story than running blindly through thick woods up a damn hill in panic for her life. And after a day of being tied up, her legs were actually trembling.

How could her rescuer see anything? The sky was overcast and even the moon was covered. She could barely see
him
. And he stood in front of her. She definitely couldn’t see anything around them. Her clothes were black, but she knew her face had to glow in the dark – especially shining with sweat like it was.

Not a good day to shine.

Her droll humor helped her regain her sense of balance. She knew she could be off and running any second and needed to be ready. Unfortunately her body wanted to slide to the ground and collapse.

“Rest. We have two minutes then we’re off again.”

She didn’t waste the energy nodding. Two minutes wasn’t enough time to catch her breath
and
respond.

She focused on her mental state instead. If that was strong the rest would follow. She hoped.

At the two-minute mark, she was hauled to her feet and dragged on another marathon through the bush. Why? If he’d been able to rescue her, why wasn’t he able to get her picked up and shipped out to safety?

When he shoved her down behind a log, she knew she wasn’t getting up again.

Not willingly. She closed her eyes and willed back the tears of exhaustion.

Damn.

“You okay?” That low deep note of concern had her opening her eyes and lying.

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

His smile of appreciation warmed the coldness inside. When his grin widened, flashing his white teeth, and he whispered, “Good, let’s go again,” she groaned.

“Once more,” he promised, helping her over the log they’d been hiding behind.

She didn’t believe him but forced her legs to move. But instead of a run they stumbled. Instead of landing softly they came down hard, stilted. He reached out a hand. She put hers in it, loving the way his hand, fingers closed over hers as if he could impart some of his strength, his endurance to her.

Maybe she was gaining strength from him as her feet seemed to cooperate better, and she could pick up the pace. When they stopped the next time, she slid in a weak heap to the ground. She huddled up into a ball and closed her eyes.

When had she last hurt like this? Had she ever hurt so badly? She didn’t think so.

Her rescuer crouched beside her and said, “We’re waiting for a pick up. Should be in ten minutes.” His voiced deepened. “We’re in Mexico and need to get across the border fast.”

She lifted her face to his and wanted to cry. Mexico? Oh no. She wanted to be home. Away from this nightmare. Were they driving out? Flying out? By donkey? Maybe she didn’t want to know. But whatever method she wanted to go now.

His finger stroked down the side of her cheek. “You’re doing just fine.”

“Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like you ripped my ribs out and made me walk on them,” she muttered.

His grin widened. “You got spunk. I like that.”

She rolled her eyes. That was a first. She’d been called a lot of things but never spunky. Brainy, nerdy, geeky. Yeah, they had all been tossed at her head a time or two but not in a complimentary way. And never making her spine quiver at the banked emotion in a man’s voice.

It was almost as if he was proud of her.

She wasn’t proud of her. Good Lord she knew she’d start crying at the drop of a hat and look at the shit she’d gotten into. Her dad would have kicked her ass good for this mess. He wasn’t going to be pleased when he found out. Then again, he wouldn’t have anyone to blame for what happened to his only child and that would bring up his anger too.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She had to survive. For his sake and hers. He’d already lost one child. He wouldn’t survive losing another.

“No energy for spunk,” she whispered, her throat so dry it hurt to talk.

A water bottle was shoved into her hand. Her eyes opened, lit up with greed.

She tilted it and took a long drink.

“Don’t drink too much. It will be hard on your stomach,” he warned.

Instantly she stopped but she didn’t want to. She had to hand the bottle back before she drained the rest of it on him. As it was, the bottle was less than a third full. He must need some too. “Sorry, I should have left you more.”

“There’s enough. Rest now. You’re almost safe.”

He squeezed her shoulder before settling down beside her. She closed her eyes and rested. Only the sounds of the forest filtered inside her mind. The wind gently floated through, plucking a leaf here and there off a branch, picking up dead ones off the ground and tossing them in the air. But there were no birds. No squirrels. No wildlife.

Just her rescuer.

“What’s your name?”

“Mason, ma’am.”

She winced. “I’m Tesla.”

“Nice to meet you, Tesla.”

At the teasing quality in his voice, she tilted her head and opened her eyes. To find his head inches from her shoulder. In the faint moonlight she could see the thunderous frown, so at odds with his voice as he stared at her puffy shoulder. “What’s this from?”

“They injected me with something,” she whispered. “I think it was to knock me out, but whatever it was, my body didn’t think much of it.”

“It looks infected.” He smoothed a gentle finger over the puffy skin. She tried to hold back a gasp of pain, but he heard her. Of course he did. “It’s hot.”

She shrugged. “Of course.”

“Not good.” He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out some tiny tube of clear liquid and a small gauze. He cracked the tube and poured half the liquid on the wound. She gasped at the stinging pain. He poured the rest of the liquid on the gauze and placed it gently against the site. Somehow he had a medical tape in his hand and managed to wrap that around the gauze on her arm.

“That’s all I can do out here,” he said. “We’ll get you looked at as soon as we land.”

She nodded, staring in bemusement at the field dressing. Being an injection site, there wasn’t much that the gauze was going to do to help the situation, but it would help keep it clean. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

But couldn’t get comfortable.

“Isn’t it time yet?”

“Another couple of minutes.”

She shifted again. This was a horrible position. Everything ached. She couldn’t wait for a hot bath.

He tugged her toward him, so she was leaning against his shoulder and hips. Instantly she felt at home. Comfortable. She closed her eyes and nodded off to sleep.

*

H
E SHOULDN’T LET
her sleep. Waking her up would take time. She’d be groggy. And needy. He couldn’t afford either.

But she was exhausted. Injured. And needed rest. Where was the helicopter? They were one minute late. He could hear calls around him. His team on the lookout. But so far, nothing.

She moaned softly and shifted. He knew she had to hurt. Had to be sore as hell from being tied up for so long. The intel had been good and they’d moved fast. He had said she had spunk. In truth she had a lot more than that. Grit.

She’d done everything he’d asked of her. Without complaint. She’d only stopped when he’d stopped. He hadn’t seen that quality in a civilian before.

He had to admire her for that. He knew very little backstory on her. Something about a brainy programmer who developed software intended to save lives in the field. He’d have done his best to save her without knowing that. But knowing that, he’d make damn sure she made it out alive. Anyone who worked and took the risks she had to save him and his fellowmen was worth everything he had to give. And then some.

A hawk call came from the left. Hawk signaling that a helicopter was coming. Good. That should be their ride.

This extraction was deadly. And the weakest link. They had to expose her to take her to safety. All sorts of hell could happen. He wanted none of them.

The second call came through. Confirmed.

Mason reached over and shook Tesla awake. She bolted upright and pivoted, her body in a defensive stance.
Whoa.
He stood up slowly, a hand out. “Easy. It’s all right. The helicopter is here.”

She blinked several times then slowly relaxed. Reaching up, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Still silent, she nodded. He reached out a hand carefully, wanting to make sure she was awake and not ready to attack. He’d hate to hurt her at this point, yet he’d do what he had to do to get her on that helicopter the fastest and quietest way possible.

“Okay,” she whispered. She blinked at him owlishly. “Which way?”

He grinned. “Damn, you’re good stuff, you know that?”

She blinked at him again, this time in confusion. He wished they had time for more of this, but he could hear the wap wap wap sound of the helicopter. “Let’s go.”

Hooking his arm through hers, he walked her to the edge of the tree line where the clearing opened up. Large enough for the helicopter to come down. His men were hidden in position along the clearing. He counted them as he gazed around. Hawk. Shadow. Dane. Swede. With Cooper handling the chaos behind the scenes as he wasn’t allowed back into the field until he’d passed his physical after being injured. Good. His team was accounted for.