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The plan had been that when the mercenary camp was taken care of, Allen could land the helicopter and extract them. But in this sideways torrential downpour? Kostya wouldn’t risk it when there were other means to get them out of there, like the vehicles.

When Braxton got the third charge set, he drifted back into the forest, careful that nobody saw him. As soon as he lost sight of the clearing, he ran around to the west side so that he could commandeer a ride. Out of everybody, he was the fastest at hot-wiring a car. He’d even beat out the geek, Gideon.

It had to do with how good he was with munitions. Brax could hot-wire anything with wheels. But maybe he wouldn’t have to if this crew left the keys in one of the normal spots. On top of the wheels, under the sun visor and, of course, the glove box. He got to the vehicles and headed to the first one, a Toyota Land Cruiser. That would work best, and he’d leave the van for the rest of the men. Since they drove on the left side of the road, the cars had the steering wheels on the wrong side as far as Brax was concerned, but it worked to his advantage this time. The passenger’s side was parallel to the clearing, so he looked on top of the passenger side tires. No keys. He tried the driver’s door, and it was open. As soon as he did, he softly laughed.

There was always option four, leave the keys in the ignition.

“Nolan,” he said into his mic. “I’ve got our vehicle. It’s a Land Cruiser. We can push down the two back seats and you’ll have enough room to maneuver with her. Give me your position and I’ll come help carry her.”

“I’m almost to your position. Wait there,” Nolan responded.

“Is everybody in place?” Kostya asked. Everyone muttered yes. “Brax, how much longer before the charges go?”

Brax looked down at his watch and waited ten seconds to answer. “Four minutes exactly.”

“I’m here,” Nolan said through the driver’s side window. “I’ll go through the back.”

“Hold on, I’ll push back the rear seats so you can work on her when she’s flat.”

Nolan nodded.

Brax maneuvered to the back and pushed the seats down. The entire vehicle was filthy, but it was a hell of a lot better than the slurry of mud that was in the shack she’d been kept in. When he spied a tarp he grinned. Even better. He pushed the debris to the end of the Land Cruiser and placed the tarp out so Nolan could work on Jenny.

“Speed it up.” Nolan slammed his fist against the tailgate. Brax opened it and carefully took Jenny from Nolan’s arms and placed her down on the tarp. He yanked off his backpack and fished out his change of shirt, skivvies, and socks. He wrapped the underwear and socks into his shirt, and created a semblance of a pillow for her. Nolan gave him the side-eye as he pushed him out of the way.

She started to cough. Deep bronchial coughs that had her moaning in pain as she clutched her right side. Where her ribs were.

“Punctured lung?” Brax asked Nolan.

“No, she wouldn’t be able to cough like she is. Right now?—”

Explosions rocked the land cruiser, and Jenny groaned in pain again. It was heart-wrenching.

“Drive!” Kostya yelled through the comm.

The sound of rapid assault rifles going off was deafening. Brax scrambled between the passenger and driver’s seat, got situated, then started the engine.

He’d already scoped out where the road was, and of course the truck was pointing away from it. There was no way he was going to circle around or even do a three-point turn; he didn’t want to do anything that might put them in the line of fire. Fuck, he was going to have to get the hell out of here driving in reverse. He wouldn’t have done this; except he’d seen he had a rear windshield wiper.

As soon as he slammed the SUV into reverse, the rearview camera went into action and it displayed everything behind him. That’s not how he drove. He threw his left hand over the seat, and looked backward, and hit the accelerator. It didn’t move.

Fuck!

Too much mud, dumbass. Start slower.

Brax went slowly forward two meters, then started backward again, not in the same grooves as before or as fast. He grinned as he made headway. He looked around and saw that no one was looking his way.

Perfect.

He picked up speed.

Crack!

A bullet went through one of the back windows.

“You okay?” he yelled.

“We’re fine. Keep driving,” Nolan yelled back. Despite his words, Brax heard the stress in his friend’s voice. Things were bad back there. Well, hell, they were pretty fucking bad up here. Brax couldn’t see shit with the rain pummeling down, even with the windshield wiper. He looked down at the rearview display and concentrated on that. It was better.

Brax grit his teeth as he attempted to stay on what could loosely be described as a road. He jerked at the wheel when he got too close to a tree.

Fuck!

The truck slid in the mud, and Brax did the same maneuvers as if he were driving in snow. He went with the slide, and gently steered the vehicle away from the trees on the other side of the trail. He could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck. He got the SUV straightened and kept going. He looked around him. He couldn’t see the clearing.

“Linc!” he shouted. “Are we clear?”

“Yeah. You can stop and wait for the rest of us. We’re almost done cleaning house,” he replied.

“No!” Nolan spat. “Jenny needs to get to a hospital. Now! Brax, keep driving. Can you get this thing turned around?”

“Not now, maybe we’ll get to a wider spot where I can.” He sent up a prayer to the God who had saved CiCi.

“Then keep going,” Nolan ordered.

So he did.

Jenny tried to open her eyes, but it hurt. Everything hurt. Something was wrapped tightly around her upper arm. She felt someone touching the inside of her elbow, rubbing it. She smelled alcohol. Then she felt a sharp sting like something horrible has stung her, followed by pressure. Whatever was wrapped around her upper arm loosened. Then whoever it was who hurt her arm touched her chest and she flinched.

Not now. Please don’t do this to me now.

She tried to push the hands away, but her arms felt like over-cooked pasta and she knew she couldn’t do anything to protect herself.

“Stop. No.” She whimpered the two words. She had to fight, even if it was only with words.

“Ms. Rivers, I need to examine you, then I need to get you dried off and dress you in something dry and warm before we get some saline into you. Okay?”

Her shirt was being pulled up. What was left of it. She’d torn off some to stop the bleeding on the back of her head, and then her nose. When the man—and it was a man, she’d heard him—pulled her shirt over her head, she shot up a knee.

There. I can fight back. Hopefully I hurt the bastard.

Then she felt cold metal at her chest and she whimpered again.

“Please. No. Don’t kill me.”

There was a tug, then her breasts fell out of her bra for the first time in weeks.

“Ahhh!” Pain sliced through her torso. Had he slid his knife through her side?

“I’m sorry, Ms. Rivers, I know your ribs have to be killing you.”

Why is this scum calling me Ms. Rivers?

“After I get you cleaned up, I’ll bandage them up, then give you a shirt to wear, okay?”

He sounds nice.

Wait a minute. He sounds American!

“Who are you?” She croaked out the question.

“Chief Petty Officer Nolan O’Roarke, Omega Sky SEAL Team, United States Navy.”

She huffed out a laugh, then started coughing. When she finally stopped, she opened her eyes. “You could have said Nolan.”

She saw him grin down at her. “I guess I could have.” He might be grinning but she could see his tension behind the grin. That couldn’t be good. She looked at her arm and saw that what she thought had been something stinging her was an IV line. It was attached to long tubing that snaked up to a bag hanging from a coat hook above the vehicle’s window.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

“Your ribs hurt, don’t they?”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Medic.”

“Then on a score of one to ten, when I cough the pain is at one-hundred. Does that help?”

Nolan sighed. “I’m not sure how many are broken, but that cough has done a number on your ribs.”

As if to prove his point she started to cough so hard her entire body spasmed. Her throat filled with mucus and she looked up at the man who was leaning over her and swallowed it.

“Ms. Rivers, you’ve got to get rid of the phlegm, it’s the best thing you can do for yourself.” He held a bottle of water to her lips. As soon as she was done drinking, she thanked him.

She gave him the best smile she could under the circumstances. “Am I going to live?”

“Damn right you are!” the driver shouted. “We didn’t run through the jungle to have you die on us now.”

Jenny started to cough again. The man up front continued to yell at her. “You better spit that shit out. Get all of that phlegm out of your lungs. Pretend it’s a spitting contest and the prize is a million bucks. This is no time to be ladylike.”

In between coughs, Jenny laughed, then she rolled over and found Nolan holding out a towel for her to spit into. She hated this. Fucking hated this, but now that she was spared drowning in mud, she sure as hell wasn’t going to drown in her own spit!

She heard her chest rattle. She kept coughing and coughing and coughing. How much mucus could one body create?

“That’s good, Ms. Rivers,” Nolan said. “Are you allergic to cephalosporins?”

“No.”

“Good.” He took a fat syringe filled with fluid out of his bag. “I’m going to give you a cephalosporin push to get it onboard faster.” He screwed the syringe into her IV and spent the next couple of minutes pushing the plunger down until it was empty, then he unscrewed it from the IV. After that, he tapped her back, then started to rub it. It was odd. It took a while for Jenny to realize he was using a wet cloth. Thank God, she might finally get clean.

When she finally stopped coughing, Nolan helped her sit up. Her arms were too weak to cover her breasts. And really, who cared at this point? He’d just seen her spit and snort out a gallon of snot and mucus, having him look at her breasts was three steps up.

“Ms. Rivers, do you want to wash up your front before putting on the clean shirt?”

Jenny looked down at her mud-covered torso. Tears of frustration welled as she realized she was too weak to even wash herself.

“I can’t. My arms are too heavy.”

“I can help. My wife insists on me giving our toddler, Iris, baths at least three times a week when I’m home.” He smiled. “Actually, I’m the one who insists. I love how Iris likes to play in the tub, of course clean-up is always a chore.”

Jenny appreciated how he was attempting to make her feel comfortable. “If you could help me wash, I’d appreciate it,” she whispered.

“We can get this done real fast, then get you into a clean shirt in no time, I promise.

Nolan was as good as his word. Before she could form a question about his daughter, he was done.

“Now I’ll pretend you’re my daughter and get you into this shirt. We can get this done, easy-peasy.” He undid the tubing from the IV, put the shirt over her head, then easily threaded her arms through the sleeves. He took out an alcohol swab, cleaned the IV, and reattached the tubing. The smaller bag was half-empty now.

“There you go, you’re all set. How do you feel?”

“Like I might live,” she rasped out.

“Damn right you will,” the driver yelled. “Hold on back there, I’m going to turn us around.”

Jenny would have fallen over if it hadn’t been for Nolan grabbing her. But the whirl of the car was too much for her. She got so dizzy that she felt herself fade.

“Nolan?”

“Right here.”

“Sorry.”

She passed out.