The rainforest surrounding Kris Muller’s fortress posed both an advantage and a logistical challenge, with one road leading in—and twenty-foot walls—causing possible breach delays.
Even with all the security measures providing blockades, the teams slid in undetected. Thanks to past fieldwork, MIT2 worked seamlessly alongside the Delta team and MIT1. The familiarity nudged Johnny into full battle mode. This was what he did best. Lizzy’s welfare was now in his hands; they were no longer separated by endless miles or unknown terrors. It was Johnny’s game—as brutal as the Scythian’s—with a dash of justice on the side.
His woman lay beyond the gate ahead. Behind those mansion walls. Johnny knew in his gut that Lizzy was close. Donnie and Max were the first to infiltrate the compound, slipping over a back wall. They made their way around to the front, took out the guards at the gate, then opened it for the rest of their team.
Delta checked in, two of theirs were unaccounted for, three including Slater. Men ran towards them with Mason Clark strapped to a stretcher.“What the hell happened?” Max yelled.“The second prisoner ambushed us, a planted target. I think he used a grenade. The wall collapsed when we were already out in the hall.”“I’ll stay behind to help,” Donnie said.“No,” Max said over the chaos. “We have enough men on the ground. I’ve got this; I need you to help with both the injured assets, get them to the safe house.”Donnie hesitated.“Go!” Max ordered. “I’ll pull Slater out. I have two additional medics and seven men at my back. I’ll get our boy.”With one last look at Max racing down the passage, Johnny and Oscar hustled Lizzy out into the open, as Donnie covered their run to the MH6 assault bird.***Max scrambled to c
Tinkling wind chimes teased her awake. Lizzy stretched, and her toes stuck out the bottom of the covers—her Lizzie McGuire bed cover. When last had she lain in her childhood bed? Hadn’t she outgrown this clunky wooden bed when she was ten? Too tired to care, Lizzy’s eyes ran over her bright blue walls. What on earth had motivated her to choose such a crazy color? Kids made no sense.The smell of pancakes wafted up the stairs. Mom made the best pancakes, with thick British syrup and loads of cream. Yum. She wiggled her toes.Time to get up. Lizzy looked up at her blue ceiling. Wait. Blue? She stared up at the open sky. The endless blue surrounded her tiny bed. Relaxing into the comfy duvet, she watched a single drifting cloud. Playing the shape game, she supposed it looked like a man on a horse. Two birds flew across the sky, their silvery wings capturing her gaze.Her eyes flitted back to the now pink cloud. No, wait&mdas
He managed to stay away for a whole nine hours, even shaved and caught some shut-eye, before stepping into a viper’s nest. Lizzy was the spitting snake.Max loomed over her. “Don’t try it. One toe even touches that floor!”“And you’ll do what?”“Lizette Steyn, what the hell are you doing?” Johnny leaped forward as she swung her legs over the side.“You forgot to mention that Slater got injured trying to rescue my tiny ass!”Johnny glared. She glared back.“I didn’t want to stress you out.”“I want to see him.” She folded her arms.“He’s way over in the next building. When you’re feeling stronger, I’ll take you.”“What’s his condition. Be honest.”“His right arm is shattered. Compound fracture in his right humerus and a distal radius fracture. The surgery went well, b
GermanyTwo days laterNot too shabby, Lizzy thought. She’d cruised through finger surgery. The doctors were pleased with the injury site.The next day the shady dudes in suits were back to question her. This time it was a lady with perfectly coifed hair and artfully applied makeup who made Lizzy feel like a soiled pile of bones, languishing in starched and sterile sheets. Refusing to have any family members present, Lizzy soldiered through the barrage of questions, pleased with her robotic responses. She’d handled it like a boss, all on her own. What was all the fuss about?Lizzy’s gloomy entourage was getting on her damn nerves. John looked like he wanted to start a phonebook-ripping rampage when Lizzy asked them all—including him—to leave the room while the agent questioned her.John could never know the details of her last day with the Scythian, and Lizzy didn’t need t
Something crashed into his bed. Fucked-up situational awareness, Slater thought as he cracked open a lid.Lizzy’s curls swayed as she tried to reverse the wheelchair with one hand. “Crikey poop! You’d think they’d have at least one kid’s wheelchair in a place this huge. Drat!”Johnny’s voice boomed as he turned the corner. “I turn my back for one second—how the hell did you get in here so fast!”“It’s not my fault you need to stop at every vending machine to find the right muffin; you’re the one with the darn tapeworm.”“The muffin was for you, Lizbug! Easy with that thing. Don’t you dare use your right hand, keep it elevated!” Johnny grabbed the handles and smoothly parallel parked her alongside the bed.“No, wheel me to the other side! Line up my good side with Slater’s good side.”They were like a bickering old
They were off to a good start on the ride from the Landstuhl hospital to the Frankfurt airport, chatting as Johnny negotiated the ninety-minute drive. Lizzy was happy to be discharged after twelve days in the hospital. It all went to shit when he pulled into the rental lane, ran around and leaned over to unclip her belt. It could’ve been the click, or him looming too far into her personal space. She flinched like he’d hit her. Her panic attack slammed in like a tidal wave. This was something new to her, and her terror and confusion slammed through him as she wordlessly begged for help. Johnny crouched on the tarmac for thirty minutes, ignoring angry motorists, instead chatting, asking questions, and gradually pulling her out of the flashback.His mind raced over his limited choices. Take her back to the clinic or check them into a Frankfurt hotel for the night or board the plane with an emotionally traumatized subject. Once she’d recovered her
The night had been a rough one, even with the light on and Johnny back on the floor. The screams that woke him had Johnny trying to calm a spooked Lizzy. The terror reflected in her unseeing gaze broke his heart, but not half as much as the pitiful begging that followed.Gripped by the nightmares, she pleaded, “Don’t hurt him, master. I’ll wear it. He’s just a kid. It’s me you want. No! Let go!” She grabbed at her splinted finger.“Lizzy, baby. Wake up.”Instead, she went stiff. “Don’t let him eat me. Please. No. No!”Johnny grasped her shoulders and gently shook her. Gulping sobs had him pulling her onto his lap. She screamed and fought, but he held her to him, humming an old country ballad as he rocked her.She finally settled, whispered thanks and asked him to let her go. She turned her back and curled into a ball. The second attack occurred an hour later and then again in the ear
Five days later and her new routine held her cemented in that same spot. Three nights of bloodcurdling night terrors and agonizing pain around her injury. Mornings spent at this fence post. Afternoons with Dr. Greene, who was an okay therapist, Lizzy supposed. She battled to open up to the old biddy. What did that old bird know about being held hostage by extremists?What did anyone know? It was tempting to reach out to Mason Clark. He was the only other one who lived through the Scythian terror. Was he as broken as she felt? Did he have a stable support system?John was her rock. Lizzy wasn’t sure what a self-entitled, ungrateful and now damaged girl did to deserve such devotion. He’d slept on the freaking floor beside her bed—a fussing warrior watching her every move.Well, that wasn’t fair. Not every move. He kept his distance when there were chores to be done, only pausing to shake her out of the reverie and force her to eat.C