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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
She couldn’t breathe. As fiery hell rained down around her, Olivia tried to raise her head. Something was pinning her down. She couldn’t draw a breath. Her ears rang, and in the distance, she could hear what sounded like explosions and fireworks going off. Once more, she tried to lift herself up and realized that what pinned her down wasn’t something, but someone. Hawke.
The second after the explosion, Hawke had thrown her to the ground and then landed on top of her to try to protect her from the blast.
She tried to move his body off of her without success. “Hawke!” she shouted.
Nothing. No movement. Was he even breathing?
Fire raged all around them, scorching heat searing her skin. If they didn’t get out of here, they would burn to death.
Fear gave her herculean strength. She managed to push herself up on her elbows, shifting Hawke’s weight slightly. She screamed his name, calling out to the heavens to save them. The effort to move him and the terror of what was happening forced her to her limits. She finally managed to shove him off of her. He landed on the pavement beside her.
Getting to her knees, she made a quick sweep of the area with her eyes. Fire virtually surrounded them, and the only clear pathway out was in front of them. It would get them out of the danger zone, but safety was at least twelve yards away. Knowing she had no choice if they were both to survive, Olivia got to her feet. She knew that moving him could be dangerous. He could have a broken neck or internal injuries. One thing she knew above all others was that if she didn’t move him, he would burn to death. She had no choice.
Praying like she had never prayed before, she tucked her forearms beneath Hawke’s armpits and began to pull. She lost her grip, started over. Tugged again. Dragging a six-four, two-hundred-twenty-pound, unconscious man even a yard was a stretch for her. Hawke outweighed her by a hundred pounds and some change. That didn’t matter, couldn’t matter.
She tugged, she pulled, she cursed, and she prayed. And finally, with the fires of hell falling around her, she made it to the safety zone outside the gate. Fortunately, the explosion had blown the gate open. Otherwise, she never would have been able to get him to the other side.
Finally out of immediate danger, Olivia collapsed beside him, breath wheezing in her lungs, her entire body screaming from the strain. She allowed herself a few seconds, and then she went back to her knees. They had to get out of here. The fire would have been seen by nearby businesses and residents. The emergency response time would be fast. They had no time to waste.
She shook his shoulders, shouting his name. Hawke had not opened his eyes. “Hawke? Can you hear me?” Tears pooled in her eyes. “Not again,” she cried. “I am not going to lose you again. Wake up, dammit!” she shouted.
Still nothing.
Her ears were ringing, and the noise around her prevented her from hearing him breathe. Was his chest moving at all? Her hand shaking with fear, she pressed her fingers to the pulse in his neck. Yes! A good, strong beat.
She shook him again. He had to wake up! They had to get out of here. The Colombian National Police force would be arriving within the next three minutes. Their SUV was parked only a few yards away, though up a hilly path. There was no way she could carry him. His leg was hurt—she didn’t know how badly—but it couldn’t matter. If they didn’t get out of here, they would be arrested. No one would rescue them. That had been a key agreement. For this to work, it had been decided that if anyone were caught, they were on their own. Having this lead back to Option Zero or Kate’s people would destroy a lot of lives.
She shook him again, and when there was no response, she shouted directly in his ear. “Hawke! Nic!” She smacked his face, shouting, screaming, suddenly feeling more helpless than she ever had before. “Why you, Nic? Why do you always have to be the hero? Why?”
His eyes fluttered, and through the ringing in her ears, she heard him groan.
“Hawke! Yes, wake up. Wake up!”
He opened his eyes and blinked up at her. “Damn, Livvy. Did you have to shout so loud?”
Torn between laughter, tears, and smacking him again, she said urgently, “We’ve got to get out of here. We only have a couple of minutes before the police arrive.”
Comprehension came in an instant. He pulled himself up, groaning.
“Can you walk at all?”
“Yeah.” The instant he tried, he fell back on his butt with a loud curse. “Oh man, that’s messed up.” He rolled onto his side, put one knee down, and rose up slowly.
Olivia helped him stand and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“Let’s go,” he growled.
She knew he was hurting, but there was nothing she could do. It was slower going than they wanted, but they finally got into a rhythm and made it up the hill. While she opened the vehicle and threw their bags inside, Hawke leaned against the door. His face told the story. He was in excruciating pain.
She opened the back door and helped him get inside. He never made a sound, but the grim set to his jaw told the story.
The instant he was safely inside, she ran around to the driver’s side, cranked the engine, and they were speeding away. Lights from the police vehicles glowed below them. Since she couldn’t turn on the headlights, she kept her night-vision goggles on and maneuvered down the hill and onto a side road, away from the burning structures and away from danger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
His leg propped up on a pillow, Hawke lay on the bed. The little inn they’d been staying at was perfect for this kind of op. Small, slightly run-down, with just enough guests that no one noticed them.