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CHAPTER NINETEEN

There was no way Preacher was sleeping. He was tired, of course he was, but now that he had Maggie back in his arms, he wouldn’t do anything that would put her in any more danger than he’d put her in already. And falling asleep would leave her vulnerable, which wasn’t acceptable.

The rain had finally stopped and the silence it had left in its wake was almost deafening. But it also allowed him and MacGyver to hear every little sound in the countryside around them. The city they’d been wandering around in was surrounded by farmland. Land that was now filled with rotting vegetables and overgrown fields.

A positive about their current situation was that they’d be able to see any soldiers approaching from quite a distance, but since they had only the one rifle they’d taken off the soldier in the church, they were at a distinct disadvantage .

They also had no way to forage for food, and if it didn’t rain again soon, they’d be out of water. Yes, their current situation wasn’t great, but Preacher had faith that when Tex checked out their location, thanks to MacGyver’s tracker, he’d realize they were in a perfect position to be picked up.

It wouldn’t have been ideal to send a team of SEALs into the city, considering they weren’t supposed to be here at all. Now, hopefully they could be extracted with little to no fuss…but Preacher had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen.

As soon as he had the thought, the faint sound of a chopper coming in hard and fast hit his ears. It was dark now, but that didn’t matter to Night Stalker pilots. They could fly in any terrain, weather, or time of day or night.

“Maggie,” Preacher said, shaking the woman lying against him.

She woke immediately, and he had the momentary thought that hopefully one day, she wouldn’t wake up instantly on guard.

“Time to go,” he told her.

She sat up and nodded.

MacGyver had woken up the children, and Preacher could hear them stirring across from where he and Maggie were sitting. They had no flashlight or anything, so their rescue would be a little more difficult, since they couldn’t see where they were putting their feet.

“Helicopter,” Borysko said.

“Yes. It’s our friends,” MacGyver told him .

None of the children said anything else, and Preacher had a feeling they were trying to process the fact that they’d soon be on their own again.

He led the way out of the shelter and into the tall grass around them. He couldn’t see the chopper, as it was flying without lights, but he heard it get closer and closer.

And so did the Russian soldiers. Shouts sounded from the city, way closer than Preacher had hoped. It made sense that a rescue would come from the farmlands outside the ruined buildings. They’d probably been waiting, just as their small group had.

“Fuck!” MacGyver said. He immediately followed that by adding, “Sorry. Don’t say that word, kids. It’s not a nice word.”

Preacher wanted to laugh at how serious he was taking his role of caretaker, but the situation they were in was no laughing matter.

“You three need to hide,” MacGyver told them. “The soldiers will be all over this area. Go back to the city. To one of your shelters.”

To Preacher, his friend didn’t sound genuine. As if he was saying what he thought he had to say, not what he actually wanted the kids to do.

“We help,” Artem said, sounding stubborn.

“No!” MacGyver told him. “You can’t help.”

“We help,” Borysko said, echoing his brother.

“Help,” Yana chimed in.

Maggie’s hand clenched his, and Preacher was torn. He didn’t want the kids anywhere near the chaos that was about to erupt, but sending them back to the city didn’t feel right either.

The breeze from the helicopter picked up, and Preacher ducked, urging Maggie to do the same at his side. The chopper arrived out of nowhere in the dark. It landed about two hundred yards from where they were crouched. The length of two football fields. It wasn’t very far for him and MacGyver, but with Maggie and possibly the kids in tow, it felt as if it might as well have been miles.

Lights from the chopper turned on and nearly blinded Preacher. He knew that was routine, shining lights to fuck with the eyesight of any nearby tangos, but being on this side of those lights sucked . He was used to being behind them, looking out of the chopper.

But the lights also allowed him to see the immediate area. And what he saw made his blood run cold.

The Russian soldiers were closing in on their location. Fast. Sometime in the night, they’d gotten reinforcements as well. It was no longer one platoon they were up against. There were at least four dozen men, all hurrying toward their position.

“Run!” Preacher said urgently, as he got to his feet and pulled Maggie up along with him. He kept his hand on her arm as they ran.

He heard MacGyver behind him as well. He got a glimpse of him holding Yana in one arm as he did his best to keep the boys in front of him.

Five figures fanned out from the door of the chopper, and Preacher had never been so relieved to see his SEAL team as he was at that moment.

The second he had the thought, the sound of gunfire broke out behind them.

Flinching as the soldiers opened fire, Preacher urged Maggie to run even faster. The odds of none of them being hit were slim to none, but Preacher wasn’t ready to give up.

Neither was his SEAL team. They returned fire, doing their best to pick off the soldiers closest to them.

They were going to make it. Preacher could see the opening to the helicopter. They were within fifty yards now. He recognized Kevlar and Smiley, who had taken the outermost positions, doing their best to keep the Russians back.

“About time you got here!” Smiley yelled without pausing his shots.

“That’s my line!” Preacher shouted as he ran past him.

“Fuck!”

At the sound of MacGyver’s curse, Preacher turned just in time to see Borysko hit the ground. Hard. He fell flat on his face—and didn’t immediately make a move to get up.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. MacGyver made a move that only a stunt double in an action movie could’ve managed. He leaned down and scooped up the little boy, holding him in one arm and Yana in the other as he yelled at Artem to keep moving.

It occurred to Preacher in that moment that MacGyver had never planned on leaving the kids. No matter what it took, he was going to take them with him when they were rescued. Preacher was glad, because it would’ve eaten at his soul to leave them behind in this hell to fend for themselves.

He arrived at the chopper then, and with Safe’s help, practically threw Maggie into the cargo area. Turning, he grabbed Artem, and was relieved to see Maggie pulling the boy away from the door after he’d been tossed inside.

As if they’d planned it, Blink and Safe climbed in, grabbed MacGyver’s arms and hefted him into the helicopter, still holding both children.

Preacher leapt into the door and turned, reaching for his remaining teammates. Smiley and Flash entered the chopper, then it was only Kevlar left to be picked up.

“We gotta go!” one of the pilots shouted over the roar of the rotor blades.

“Kevlar!” Flash yelled. “Now!”

But their team leader was standing with his legs braced, shooting at the Russian soldiers who’d crept closer and closer.

Without thought, Preacher leapt back out of the chopper, ignoring the sound of Maggie screaming his name, and grabbed the neck of Kevlar’s vest. He never stopped shooting as Preacher dragged him closer to the helicopter. Even as Blink and Smiley hauled both his and Kevlar’s asses into the chopper, their leader continued to shoot.

The lights from the helicopter blinked out and plunged them all into pitch darkness again.

The pilots took off and immediately banked hard to the left. Then right. Then left again. It felt as if they were actually dodging bullets, which wouldn’t surprise Preacher in the least. The Night Stalkers were almost scary with what they could do in a chopper. He’d always been in awe of their skills, and he wouldn’t want anyone else shuttling him and his team into and out of the dangerous drop zones they frequently experienced.

The ride evened out, and after another fifteen seconds or so, a light was turned on in the cargo area. Thoughts of the pilots flew from Preacher’s mind as he turned toward the commotion behind him. MacGyver had placed Borysko on the floor and was attempting to remove his shirt, while Blink was on his knees, cutting off the little boy’s pants.

The blood pooling under him was obscene, and the sight made Preacher’s guts churn.

“Get an IV started!” MacGyver ordered Flash. The man was already rummaging through the first-aid bag at his side.

Preacher held his breath as he watched his friends tend to Borysko. It looked as if he’d been shot in both his calf and his right side. Moving around, careful not to jostle anyone, Preacher made his way to where Maggie was huddled against the wall of the chopper with Yana in her lap and Artem huddled against her side. For once, the eight-year-old didn’t look calm and in charge. He looked like a terrified little boy.

Preacher sat next to Artem and wrapped his arms around both him and Maggie. The boy didn’t take his gaze off his brother. Borysko was unconscious now, not moving as the SEALs frantically attempted to save his life.

No one asked who the kids were or why they were involved in the rescue. They simply did what needed to be done. Any concerns about what would happen to the children would come later.

It seemed to take forever to get to the small military base on the western side of Ukraine, where the SEALs had been based during their mission. It was supposed to have been a quick in and out. The longer they were there, the more likely their presence in the country would be noted and advertised. They needed to get the hell out, especially now that gunfire had been exchanged. Russia wasn’t going to let an opportunity pass to announce to the world that the United States had broken their unstated agreement not to get involved in the conflict.

But none of that mattered right now. Not when a little boy was lying bloody and fighting for his life.

By the time they landed, the commotion surrounding Borysko had calmed down. The bleeding was staunched and the wounds tightly wrapped for now. MacGyver still hovered over the boy, but some of the terror in his eyes seemed to have dissipated.

Artem had crawled over to his brother and was sitting at his side, holding his hand. But when they landed, there was no time to relax. A plane was already waiting on the runway nearby.

“Load up. We have to get the hell out of the country,” Kevlar said .

Everyone began moving quickly, gathering bags and heading toward the plane. Still no one questioned who the children were, or if they were coming with them. They simply assumed as much.

“You got her?” MacGyver asked Maggie, who was carrying Yana.

“Yes.”

“We’ll take care of these two,” Preacher told his teammate, turning to Artem and holding out his hand. To his surprise and relief, the boy took it. He looked uncertain and scared. Preacher couldn’t blame him. Things were happening very quickly, and he had to be feeling out of his element. In the bombed-out city, he knew where to go and what to do. He was in charge and in control of what happened to himself and his siblings.

Here? He had no idea what was going on. And his brother was hurt. He had to be terrified.

Making a split-second decision, Preacher leaned down and picked up Artem. The boy didn’t protest, simply held on tightly as he was carried toward the plane.

They were still on Ukrainian soil. They could leave the children in someone’s capable hands. The fighting on this side of the country wasn’t as intense as it was closer to the border with Russia. Someone would take care of the kids. They’d probably be adopted by a loving family and have a good life.

But the thought of simply dropping them off—especially Borysko, who was still unconscious—was abhorrent. And if Preacher was feeling that, MacGyver had to be feeling it ten times worse. He’d bonded with these kids. In a way that was soul deep.

MacGyver carried Borysko up the stairs to the plane, with Safe and Blink at his heels, the former holding the boy’s IV. Maggie went next, carrying Yana, and Preacher was behind her with Artem. Flash and Smiley had his back, and Kevlar brought up the rear. The Night Stalkers had already taken off, disappearing into the night, back to wherever they’d been deployed from.

Kevlar paused to talk with someone at the base of the stairs, and after shaking his hand, ran up the steps, taking them two at a time.

“Settle in, everyone. We’re going to be taking off hot,” Kevlar told them.

Preacher led Maggie to a seat along one of the walls. The configuration of the inside of the plane wasn’t like a commercial aircraft. There were seats along both walls, with a large open space in the middle. It was a military bird used for transport of goods and materials. On the way to the Ukraine, it had been filled with the crates the SEALs had delivered as ordered, as well as boxes of humanitarian aid for the besieged country.

MacGyver placed Borysko across three seats near the back of the plane, and the second Preacher put Artem on his feet, he headed for his brother. Yana began to squirm in Maggie’s arms, so she put her down. She ran after her brother, and Artem took her hand in his.

MacGyver got them strapped into seats next to him, and they all held on as the plane began to move .

“Holy crap,” Maggie whispered.

Preacher took a deep breath, then pulled her into his side. She buried her face in his chest and clung to him as the plane sped up and eventually lifted into the air at a much steeper angle than any commercial aircraft would ever attempt.

“This is intense,” she said after a moment.

“We’ll straighten out in a moment,” Preacher told her as calmly as he could. His heart was still beating way too fast.

“Not the flight. Well, this too, but…everything.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Are you all right?” she asked, looking up at him.

Preacher couldn’t help but snort and shake his head.

“What?”

“You. You’re asking if I’m all right?”

“Well, yeah. You’re the one who was beaten. Can you even see out of that eye?”

“A little,” Preacher said. “You ever been shot at before?”

“Um…yes. When I was trying to make my way through the city to get to you,” she said a little cheekily.

“Before that,” Preacher insisted.

“No.”

“Right. I have. And you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m gonna say it anyway. That was probably about a five for me on a scale of one to ten on the intensity meter, when it comes to an extraction. You’ve never been through anything that intense before. It should be me asking if you’re all right. ”

“I’m alive,” she said simply. “After everything I’ve been through, I’m taking that as a win.”

“Damn,” Preacher said on a sigh. “I love you.”

She beamed up at him. “I love you too. And for the record…I don’t ever want to do that again. Once was enough. And you’re right, I don’t want to hear that what we just did was normal for you. I’m going to be a basket case every time you’re deployed from now on.”

Preacher couldn’t help but love that. Not that she’d be worried, but that she was thinking so far into the future.

“Is he going to be okay?” Maggie asked.

“Borysko?”

“Yeah.”

“It looks like it.”

“What happens now? With the kids?” Maggie asked next.

“No clue. But I know that MacGyver is going to fight like hell for them.”

“What can we do to help him? Keep them, I mean.”

This was just another reason Preacher loved this woman. Her huge heart. She wasn’t asking about what happened with herself next. With Robertson. She was worried about the children. And MacGyver. She should be curled into a ball, paralyzed with anxiety over everything that had happened to her in the last few days. But instead, she was thinking about everyone but herself.

“I don’t know. We’ll play it by ear. But I’m guessing the authorities will want to hear about what happened and the situation we found them in. ”

Maggie nodded firmly. “Right. Well, whoever I have to talk to and whatever I have to say, I’ll say it. They deserve a second chance.”

Preacher agreed one hundred percent.

“Where are we headed now?” she asked.

“Probably Germany. Borysko will be checked out, then we’ll head home.”

“I don’t have any identification,” Maggie said, looking up at him with a frown. “How am I going to get back into the US?”

“It’ll be fine,” Preacher soothed. “Trust me.”

To his amazement, she simply nodded and melted against his side once again. How this woman could trust him as deeply as she did when she’d had that trust broken so badly in the past was astounding. But he wasn’t going to ever take it for granted. He’d give her no reason to distrust him. Ever. He’d be her rock. The person she looked to when she was happy, sad, scared…whatever she was feeling, he wanted to be the man she came to first.

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I should be freaking out about going back to Riverton, about what’s waiting for me there. I’ll need to get a hold of my probation officer and tell her what happened, talk to your Navy people, face Roman…but all I can feel right now is relief. That we made it out of there. All of us.”

“Me too, baby. Me too. We’ll tackle whatever comes next together. ”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he agreed, floored again by her trust in him.

As she dozed, Preacher’s mind spun with plans.

The threats against his Maggie needed to be stopped. Immediately. He’d do whatever it took to make that happen. Starting with calling Tex the second they landed in Germany. By the time they arrived in Riverton, he needed the ball to already be rolling. Didn’t want to give Robertson any sliver of a chance to combat what was coming. He was going to regret not walking away from Maggie and never looking back. Preacher would make sure of it.