Page 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Fuck,” Preacher moaned as he rolled over.

“You really do sound like Blink,” MacGyver said from next to him.

Opening his eyes—no, his eye; one was swollen shut—Preacher saw his teammate lying in the dirt next to him. They were in a room much like the one they’d holed up in. It was obviously a bombed-out building, but this room was less protected from the elements. He could see two Russian soldiers standing outside the walls with their rifles at the ready.

“Maggie? The kids?” Preacher asked. The last thing he remembered was seeing Maggie standing at the top of the concrete ledge he’d hoisted her up to, staring down at them in horror.

“As far as I know, they got away,” MacGyver said.

Relief swamped through Preacher. That was followed by determination and anger. This was no place for three kids or Maggie to be wandering around. It would also be more difficult for them to stay hidden with Russian troops roaming the city.

He wondered if the crates of weapons they’d offloaded had really been for the Ukrainians, as they’d all thought, or if Robertson had been paid to leave the weapons for the Russians. If so, it would add treason to all of his other crimes.

At the moment, that didn’t matter. He and MacGyver needed to get the hell out of there. The last thing they wanted was to be transported over the border into Russia. Special forces units weren’t fighting in this conflict. Yes, the US was helping in other ways, by supplying weapons and training for Ukrainian soldiers, but if word got out to the media that there were Navy SEALs on the ground, things could get ugly for everyone involved.

“What’s the plan?” Preacher asked.

The other man chuckled, but the sound changed to a moan almost immediately. “Shit, I was hoping you had a plan,” MacGyver told him.

“Still got that tracker?” he asked.

“Yeah. Skivvies still on. Check.”

“Right, so Tex, and thus the team, still know where we are.”

“But not where Maggie is.”

Preacher frowned. He was right. She could literally be anywhere, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was leaving Maggie behind. Their separation made things more difficult, but when rescue came, maybe enough of a ruckus would be made that she’d somehow be drawn to it, and they could get the hell out of here.

“The kids,” MacGyver said in a low, desolate tone.

Preacher closed his eyes. Their situation upset him too, but obviously they’d made a bigger impact on the taciturn MacGyver.

“We can’t leave them.”

“We can’t take them,” Preacher countered. “They’re not US citizens. It would be akin to kidnapping.”

“You saw them,” MacGyver said. “How skinny they are. They don’t have anyone to look after them.”

“We can get Tex to reach out to one of his contacts, make sure they’re found and brought to safety.”

But MacGyver snorted. “Then what? They go into the system? What system? Look around, Preacher, this country is being torn apart. And who are the people suffering the most? The kids. No one is going to adopt them. Especially not all three. Besides, I have a feeling Artem would rather be on his own, living in the rubble of burned-out buildings, than be separated from his brother and sister.”

“What do you want me to say? That we’ll take them with us? You know that won’t go down well. We can’t just be stealing kids from the countries we’re sent to.”

“I don’t want to steal them. I just want them to be safe. To have food in their bellies. For Artem not to have to be a grownup when he’s only eight. I want Yana to be able to play without fear.”

Preacher pressed his lips together. He wanted the same things. But they were in an impossible situation. They weren’t even supposed to be here right now. Their job was to deliver the crates then retreat back to western Ukraine and get the hell out of the country. Then again, their mission was most likely bullshit from the start, a way for Robertson to get rid of his ex-girlfriend and use the SEAL team to do his dirty work.

“If we brought them with us, what would your plan be going forward?” Preacher asked.

A full two minutes of silence passed, and Preacher thought that maybe his friend had fallen asleep or hadn’t heard him. But then MacGyver spoke.

“I want them,” he said in a voice so low, it was almost a whisper. “I know it’s stupid. No one’s gonna give a thirty-three-year-old bachelor, a special forces operative at that, custody of three orphans. But there’s something about them that I just can’t shake.”

He wasn’t wrong. The odds of the three siblings being placed with MacGyver were probably a million to one. And that was if they even got to the US. It was likely they’d be taken away when they arrived in Germany to switch planes.

“I’d have to find a nanny. Someone who could help me with them while I’m at work. Maybe I’ll do one of those fake marriage things…you know, to grease the wheels. Find someone who needs health insurance or something and marry her. She gets the benefits from the Navy, and I get someone to help me with the kids.”

“That sounds like a terrible plan,” Preacher said with a small chuckle. But when his friend didn’t laugh, he realized he wasn’t kidding.

“I can’t think of any other way,” MacGyver said. “Besides, it’s not as if women are beating down my door otherwise. I’m too…geeky.”

Preacher couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You’re a SEAL. You aren’t a geek.”

“I am. And I’m okay with that. You haven’t been to my place in a while, but it’s kind of a mess. With parts and wires from computers and other electrical crap I bought online and at yard sales. I love taking shit apart and putting it back together. Hell, Preacher, you know I got my nickname because of the crap I can manufacture when we need it.”

“All right, but there’s nothing wrong with that,” Preacher told his friend.

“I know. And I like who I am…but apparently it’s not what women want.”

Preacher snorted, then groaned. “You want to know what women want?” he asked. “They want to be loved. They want to know the man they’re with is trustworthy. That he’ll be there when she needs him. That’s it. Everything else is gravy.”

“Who went and made you an expert on women?” MacGyver asked.

“Maggie,” Preacher said with conviction. “Look. I’m the last person to preach about anything, regardless of my name. But I’m right about this. You want to adopt these kids? If you’re all in, you know all of us will do whatever we can to help you. But don’t up and marry a chick just because you think it’ll make you look better in social services’ eyes. That’s a sure way for the situation to end up FUBAR’d.”

“Yeah…” MacGyver said vaguely.

“Wait—you have someone in mind already?” Preacher asked.

“Maybe.”

“ Seriously ? Do I know her?”

“No.”

“What’s her name?”

“Addison.”

Preacher waited for MacGyver to say more. When he didn’t, he asked, “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

“That’s all you get,” MacGyver confirmed. “We’ve kind of got other things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to get away from these Russian soldiers, find Maggie and the kids, meet up with the team, and get out of this bombed-out shell of a city, then convince the US authorities to let Artem, Borysko, and Yana into the country. If we manage all that, then I can start worrying about how to arrange for them to stay with me.”

“Right. But I’m not going to drop this. I want to know more about this Addison woman. Where you met her, and why you think she might be up for this asinine scheme.”

“You’re annoying,” MacGyver bitched.

“And you love me,” Preacher said, simply to be more annoying.

The makeshift door to the room they were being kept in was shoved to the side, and three Russians came into the room. One aimed a rifle at Preacher and MacGyver and the other two came over to where they were lying on the ground. They yelled something at them and hauled them to their feet.

Then they were forced out of the room and marched down the street.

Preacher kept his head on a swivel and tried to memorize where they were going. It was difficult, considering the debris and collapsed buildings around them looked the same from one street to the next. But if he and MacGyver had any chance of getting out of this alive, they needed to be ready to make their escape.

It wouldn’t be easy. Preacher hurt like hell and his teammate wasn’t in any better condition. The soldiers at their side, holding onto them, were already helping to keep them upright as they were force-marched to another location. But Maggie was out there somewhere, and she needed him to figure this out. If he was killed, his team would get her out, of that he had no doubt, but he was motivated to get out with her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And he couldn’t do that if Robertson won.

Preacher hated to lose—and this was one battle he was determined to come out on top.

Maggie lay on a slab of concrete, staring down into the street below. Artem was lying next to her. He’d led her up here after Yana and Borysko fell asleep in another little nook they’d found and made into a home away from home.

She felt exposed and out of her element, but she did what she could to follow Artem’s lead. He seemed much older than his eight years. He’d had to grow up fast. Too fast. It made Maggie sad, but she had to admit that at the moment, she was glad he was here. If she’d been on her own, it would’ve been a disaster. He’d found them water, had scrounged for food in the rubble of what had to have been an apartment building at one time, and was now helping her look for Shawn and MacGyver.

“Where are all the people?” she whispered as they scanned their surroundings.

“They go to safe. West. Away from here.”

“Why didn’t you go too?”

Artem looked at her with his big brown eyes. His face was filthy, his hair matted and dirty. “This is home. Mother and Father are here.” He pointed out into the city, toward the west. “Nowhere else to go.”

Maggie’s heart broke all over again. “But you would be safe if you left.”

“Take Yana away. No family. Not safe. Together safe.”

She wanted to argue that they weren’t safe right now. Not living in unsanitary conditions, scrounging for food, and hiding from Russian soldiers. But she had no idea what she could do to help the children. She could barely look after herself. She was so out of her element, it wasn’t even funny.

“Find Ricky and Shawn. Help.”

She nodded. She was still a little fuzzy about what in the world three kids and a woman could do to help two Navy SEALs being held captive by a bunch of soldiers, but at this point she literally had nothing to lose. Without Shawn and MacGyver, she was as good as dead. Roman would win, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She’d gone from never wanting to return to California, to fantasizing about the look on her ex’s face when she strolled up to him and said, “Guess what? I didn’t die!”

“There! Look, Mag. Soldiers.”

Forcing herself to concentrate, Maggie looked where Artem was pointing. He was right. There were people moving through the rubble a few streets over. It was hard to tell if Shawn and MacGyver were with them, but Artem didn’t seem to have that issue.

“Ricky and Shawn there. Take them to church. Good. Good. Can get them out.”

Maggie wanted to shake her head. Tell the boy that he was crazy. That there was no way they’d be able to sneak the SEALs out from under the Russians’ noses. But Artem was already backing off the slanted ledge of concrete. Maggie quickly followed, being careful to keep her head down. The last thing she wanted was to be spotted and shot at.

Once they were back on the ground, she followed Artem as he weaved his way back to where he’d left his brother and sister.

The entrance to the space they’d holed up in was so small, Maggie could barely fit through the hole in the mangled rebar and steel. Of course, the kids had no problem. If Shawn or MacGyver were with them, they wouldn’t have fit at all.

“We get next day,” Artem told her, when she was once more sitting cross-legged, leaning against one of the walls.

“How?” Maggie asked.

The next thirty minutes was spent with Artem telling Maggie his plan in broken English—and Maggie trying to talk him out of it. But in the end, she realized she had no choice but to go along with the boy. He knew this city like the back of his hand. If he said his plan would work, she had to believe him.

Her role was easy. She was the bait.

Swallowing hard, she tried not to puke. Not that she had much in her belly to throw up. But thoughts of everything that could go wrong swam through her brain. If she got lost, or if she wasn’t fast enough, the Russians would capture her, and if she’d thought she was in deep shit in an American prison, it would be nothing compared to rotting away in a Russian cell.

But Artem seemed to think his plan would work perfectly. While she was distracting the soldiers, he, Borysko, and Yana would sneak in through a tunnel they’d found while foraging and get Shawn and MacGyver out. Then they’d all meet up at the edge of the city, in an area she recognized as being near where her crate had landed, when she was pushed out of the helicopter.

This part of the country had a lot of farmland. The city they were in had to have been the biggest around. Not big like a city back home, but large enough for its citizens to have everything they’d needed. Now, the church in the center of the city was one of the only buildings still standing…and even that could be argued. Half of it was destroyed, but the other half was apparently acting as a kind of meeting point for the soldiers. And it was where they’d taken Shawn and MacGyver.

“Next day, I show you where to walk. Where to lead soldiers,” Artem told her. In any other situation, Maggie would’ve found it adorable how he kept saying “next day” instead of tomorrow, but right now? Terror was swimming in her veins.

“Okay.”

Yana and Borysko had woken up while Artem was telling her the plan, and the little girl ended up sitting against Maggie’s side. She reached over and patted Maggie’s hand while saying something in her native language.

“She say it okay,” Borysko translated. “Artem keep us safe.”

Maggie smiled down at Yana and said, “Thank you.”

“You welcome.”

The English words coming from the little girl were both surprising and adorable.

“Can you talk us about America?” Borysko asked .

Maggie struggled to come up with something to tell them. Something that wouldn’t make their own situation seem even bleaker than it already was. But when she saw the three eager faces looking up at her, it hit home how young these children really were. Because of the role Artem played in keeping her safe right now, she’d temporarily blocked out the fact that they were just kids.

“I live in Riverton, California. It’s right by the ocean. The weather is nice almost all year. Not too hot or too cold.”

“Ricky live there?” Artem asked.

“Yes. He and Shawn both, and their friends all live there too.”

“And there is food store?” Borysko asked.

The question made Maggie sad again, but she kept the smile on her face as she responded. “Yes, there are a lot of food stores. And places that sell wood and hammers and clothes, and everything anyone would need.”

“Cost much money,” Artem said with a frown.

“Well, yes. Some of the stores are more expensive than others. But there are some places that are cheaper too. I work in a store that gives clothing to those who need it.”

“For no money?” Artem asked with wide eyes.

“For free,” Maggie confirmed. “But only to those who really need it. For others, they pay. That’s how the store can stay open.”

“And school?” Borysko asked.

“Yes, there are schools. For kids your age, as well as bigger kids and adults. ”

“Anyone go?”

“Yes. Anyone can go.”

“I like school,” Borysko said sadly.

“Danger on road?” Artem asked.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you want to know,” Maggie told him.

“Here, danger outside house. There, is danger walk on road?”

“Oh, well…yes, I suppose it could be dangerous to walk around. But that’s generally only in certain areas. Most places are safe, especially during the day. There are bad guys there, just as there are anywhere, I suppose.”

“Put you in jail?” Borysko asked.

“What?”

“Bad guys put in jail?” the boy repeated.

Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. She really didn’t want to talk about prison because it hit a little too close to home. And she wasn’t sure she should talk about jail, because of all these kids had already been through and were still going through. But if the question had been asked, it had to be because Borysko was worried about something.

“America is a nice place to live,” she told the trio. She wasn’t sure how much Yana understood, but she was staring up at her, listening intently, as if she understood every word Maggie was saying. “But there are bad people everywhere. And yes, if someone breaks the law, they could go to jail.”

She couldn’t believe she was talking about this, but she needed the kids to know that while the US was a great country, it wasn’t free of dangers.

“ You jail?” Artem asked with big eyes.

There was no way this boy could know that, yes, she’d been in prison. She hadn’t talked about it in front of him. But she also didn’t want to lie. These kids had probably been lied to way too often. “Actually, yes. I’ve been in jail. A man I was dating put drugs in my car. The police stopped me and found them and thought they were mine. No one would listen when I said they weren’t.”

Artem nodded solemnly. “Like here. Police bad.”

“No,” Maggie said sharply. That was not the lesson she wanted the kids to learn. “The police aren’t bad. They’re there to help. But the bad guy, the man I was dating, is very important. So everyone believed him. The drugs were in my car. They had no reason to believe me over the very important man. All I’m trying to say is, no matter where you live, there are bad people. They might seem like they are good, but sometimes they’re not. You have to be smart, to lean on those you trust to stay safe.”

She was messing this up. Maggie knew that, but she had no idea how to explain well enough to get through the cultural differences.

“Like Shawn. And Ricky,” Borysko said firmly.

“Yes, like them,” Maggie agreed.

“We smart,” Artem said. “We keep you safe.”

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. “I know you are, and that you’ll keep me safe. Thank you.”

“You welcome,” Yana piped up with a smile .

Her eagerness to be included in the conversation made Maggie smile. She hugged the little girl against her side.

“I go to America one day,” Artem said firmly. “I help people who police no believe.”

For some reason, Maggie believed him. That he’d someday get to the US and help those in need like she’d been.

“Next day we get Ricky free. And Shawn,” Artem said firmly. “You sleep so you can run.”

Maggie wasn’t tired. She was thirsty and hungry and too keyed up about tomorrow to even think about sleeping. But she nodded anyway and stretched out on the hard, dirty floor.

Artem fussed over his siblings for a while, then the room went silent.

“Mag?”

She turned her head to see Artem looking at her. “Yeah?” she whispered.

“Take Yana when go?”

“What?”

“Take Yana when go?” Artem repeated. “No safe for baby. She gooder in America.”

Maggie had no idea what to say to that. It was obvious Artem loved his little sister. That he’d do whatever he could to keep her safe. And right now, the only way he could think to do that was to send her as far away from this place as possible.

She wished she could reassure him. Tell him that of course she’d take his sister with her. But she had no idea what the future held. It was certainly not legal to take a child out of the country, especially when she wasn’t supposed to be here herself. But she couldn’t bear to say any of that to the little boy who was doing all he could to survive.

So she simply nodded.

It was apparently enough for Artem. He gave her a solemn nod in return, then turned onto his side, facing away from her.

Maggie wasn’t a crier. But it seemed as if she’d cried more recently than she could ever remember doing for her entire thirty-five years. Even when she’d been behind bars, she hadn’t allowed herself to get too emotional, for her own well-being. But now the tears ran down her temples into her hair as she stared up at the broken ceiling.

She cried for herself, over her worry for Shawn and MacGyver, about tomorrow’s plan—which was surely going to go wrong in one way or another—and for the children sleeping around her. She wanted to scoop up all three and hold them tightly and tell them everything would be okay. But she didn’t know if it would be. With a lot of luck, she’d be leaving soon, going back to her life in California, and they’d be stuck here in this bombed-out city, eking out an existence, scrounging for food and water. It was unfathomable. But what could she do about it?

Nothing. And that sucked.

As she lay there, Maggie made a vow to do whatever she could to help Artem, Borysko, and Yana. Shawn had that computer genius friend. Maybe he could do something. Get a hold of someone who could come here and take the kids away. At least somewhere safer. Maybe find a kind of foster home for them. She had no idea if that concept existed here, especially in the middle of a war, but there had to be something she could do.

Feeling better, if not great, Maggie closed her eyes. As soon as she did, thoughts of Shawn snuck in. Was he okay? She’d seen the beating he’d received, and it was bad. Would he and MacGyver even be able to walk tomorrow? She had so many questions and worries, and no way of easing her trepidation.

She also wasn’t sure about being bait. She wasn’t a great runner, and she had no weapon. If one of the soldiers decided to shoot her, she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Artem’s advice about not running straight down a street, but instead using the maze of crumbled buildings to her advantage, was good. But she still worried about going down a dead-end, like they’d done while running from the Russians.

So many things could go wrong, but she’d do whatever it took to help Shawn get free. She loved him. It was a hell of a time to have that epiphany, but she didn’t shy away from it. He’d been nothing but supportive, hadn’t seemed to mind that she was a convicted felon, had stood up for her, introduced her to his friends, and made her feel as if she was the most important person in his life.

And now he was a captive of the Russian army because of her. He didn’t have to get out of that helicopter. He could’ve called for backup when he saw she was in that crate. But he hadn’t hesitated to rush to her side. It was…overwhelming. And proved what kind of man Shawn was. One that she wanted at her side forever .

“Hang on,” she whispered. “Help is coming.”

If she and the kids pulled this off, it would be a story for the ages. One she had no doubt Shawn would tell proudly to anyone who would listen. About the time he was a POW, and a woman with absolutely no military experience and three little kids rescued him and his Navy SEAL teammate. He wouldn’t be embarrassed. No, he’d be proud of her.

Maggie wanted to make that happen. Make him proud. Wanted to prove that she was more than the felon society had labeled her. Determination swelled inside as her tears dried up. She literally had nothing to lose tomorrow. And a lifetime of happiness at Shawn’s side to gain.

She snorted silently. She was being a dork. There was no guarantee that Shawn felt the same way as she did. Yes, he seemed to like her now, but she was well aware of how life had a way of pulling the rug out from under a person when they felt as if everything was going great. She was living proof of that.

But regardless, she’d do whatever she had to in order to free Shawn and MacGyver, keep Artem, Borysko, and Yana safe, and to live another day so she could make Roman pay for his evil deeds.

It was a lot of pressure, but she’d survived two years in jail for a crime she didn’t commit. She could do this. She had to do this. There was no other choice.