Course of Action: The Rescue: Jaguar Night / Amazon Gold
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As Josh knelt and quickly covered his face with dark green, black and gray camo paint to blend into the jungle environment, he hoped like hell that message had meant Allison Landon was there. It was a risk, but one that his handler at Langley had ordered him to verify first, before tramping through the jungle for days on end, trying to find her.
It took him three hours to reach the villa. Dawn was coming, so Josh chose a tree that would allow him to recon the courtyard. He stashed the ruck pack nearby and slowly climbed the tree, not wanting to attract attention even though night was just beginning to lift. Once in a position with his back against the trunk, legs spread out on two strong limbs forty feet above the ground, he pulled his M-4 rifle off his shoulder harness. Quickly opening up the Night Force scope and turning on the infrared capability, he began to scan inside the villa.
As he spotted a heavily armed guard, he wrote the timing down on a knee pad with a grease pencil. Eventually, there was a second guard, but there were no dogs that he could see. They were the biggest threat of all and he knew many drug lords kept Dobermans, rottweilers or Belgian Malinois for security as well as for their aggressive temperament and teeth.
Drinking water from his CamelBak to keep hydrated, he wiped the sweat off his face with his glove. He’d chosen a perfect hiding place, the leaves thick in front and on all sides of him. Someone would have to stand beneath the tree and look up to spot him. With his camouflage clothing and painted face, Josh blended in like a chameleon.
As he continued to scan and memorize the layout in his head, he couldn’t keep his emotions out of the mix as much as he wanted to. The color photo of Aly Landon hung in his heart, of all things. He’d been divorced for two years and hadn’t even thought of getting into a serious relationship. Not now. He wasn’t willing to risk time or his heart on a woman who couldn’t accept his long deployments and short time at home with her.
Still, it was the radiant look in Aly’s deep blue eyes, the gold in their depths, that lured him. She had the most beautifully shaped mouth he’d ever seen. Already, much to his chagrin, he wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her lips against his.
Josh hadn’t been intimate with a woman in six months. But he wasn’t the type to find a prostitute to satisfy his needs. Nor could he do one-night stands. Usually his partners would want a second, third and fourth night. Celibacy was easier in many respects than having to deal with women or marriage. But that didn’t stop his heart from wanting to know Aly better.
He had such strong, gut intuition, which had saved his life too many times, that he couldn’t idly dismiss the feelings he had toward her. Josh couldn’t get out of his mind the tragic car wreck she’d survived. And he also wondered how her Marine Corps father, probably a major around that time in his life, had dealt with his critical daughter and grieving for the loss of his wife and son simultaneously. Josh wasn’t sure he could handle it. The emotional fallout must have been brutal for Aly.
It was none of his business, so he dropped it for now. Still...that picture spoke strongly of someone who was kind and compassionate. A woman with tender sensitivity toward the plight of others. She was a nurse. She put her own life in jeopardy to help relieve the suffering of others. Aly might be a romantic and idealist about life, but at least she lived what she believed.
And that was something Josh respected whether he agreed with her decision to work in one of the worst areas of Brazil for drug lords and drug trafficking. He smiled a little, one corner of his mouth hooking upward as he continued to recon the villa. Her father might think her soft and incapable, but Aly’s life decisions spoke differently. How far apart were she and her father emotionally from one another?
He shifted slightly, seeing a door at the main entrance open and close. A tall, bald man, armed and looking important, met and talked to one of the guards in the plaza.
Slowly allowing his rifle to hang from his left shoulder harness, Josh took out his digital camera, turned it on and, utilizing the long lens, snapped photos of each of them. As the second guard came around, he took more pictures.
Later, when he opened up his laptop and connected with a satellite, he would send the photos to the CIA in Langley to be identified. Josh wanted to know who he was dealing with. Later, after he got the gist of the rhythm of the villa and its occupants, he would begin a thorough search of the perimeter. Sometimes, he knew from his Recon experience in Peru, villas often had a tunnel that ran from the inside directly into the jungle. It was an escape route should the villa be overrun.
He watched as a tall red-haired woman emerged from a nearby tiled walkway. She was dressed in one of the skimpiest outfits he’d ever seen and she was drop-dead gorgeous. She wore a red halter, breasts pushed up, the nipples damn near showing. The tiny red shorts she wore hid just about nothing. Makeup heavy, her hair up on her head, gold bangles in her ears and at least six or seven gold bracelets on one arm, Josh let out a low breath. He snapped several photos of her: full face, quarter face and profile. Grinning to himself, he was sure the agents at Langley would enjoy the eyeful of this woman.
The bald-headed soldier looked up. Yeah, damn right he was giving her a look that spoke volumes. The redhead tossed her chin upward, as if dissing him, turned and swayed like a runway model to the main door of the house and disappeared. Josh remembered that Duarte dealt in sex slavery. Was this one of his slaves? Because she sure as hell couldn’t survive out here in an outfit like that. Now, if he could spot Aly... Would she be dressed similarly? Where were they keeping her? Was there a section where sex slaves were kept? Guarded? So many questions. No answers. Not yet.
Chapter 3
Aly slept restlessly in her new room. She’d been removed from the apartment with the three women who serviced Duarte. The windows in her quarters had iron bars over them, though she had opened the shutters to let in the sluggish, humid nighttime air. The only door was locked from the outside. She could not escape.
A hand suddenly clamped over her mouth.
She screamed and fought, eyes wide with terror.
The man who leaned over her held her shoulder down so she couldn’t move and rasped out, “Allison Landon?” His voice held a Texas drawl.
An American! Nostrils wide, breathing in explosive breaths, her eyes slowly acclimated. There was a small night-light in the room, shedding just enough light for her to see him.
Oh, God, he was a soldier! An American soldier! And he was holding his large hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. His eyes were narrowed, his face was painted in dark colors, and he wore a flop-brimmed hat on his head. He was also wearing jungle camos.
“I’m Marine Corps Staff Sergeant Josh Patterson. I’ve come to rescue you. Now, don’t scream. I’m going to lift my hand away.”
Aly sobbed and shot into a sitting position, staring up at the large man. He put his hand to his lips, cautioning her not to speak. He was carrying a rifle on his left shoulder. She saw a huge knife in a sheath on his right calf. In a drop holster low on his thigh sat a pistol. He eased a small ruck off his broad shoulders and set it on the bed.
“Get into these,” he told her quietly, pulling out a dark green T-shirt, black cargo pants, socks and a pair of combat boots. “Hurry!”
Shaken, Aly gave a jerky nod. How had this man gotten in here? She noticed the door was still shut. Somehow, he’d gotten into her room. Oh, God, she was going to be rescued! Climbing off the bed, her knees weak with adrenaline, she grabbed the clothes and hurried to the bathroom down the hall.
Josh looked around, moving like a shadow to the nearest window. The soft scuff of boots on the tiled walkway could barely be heard. It was guard number one walking by her door. He pulled the cover off his watch and read the dials. In ten minutes, guard number two would patrol past her door.
He glanced down the hall, trying not to be emotionally affected by Aly Landon. Even in the grayish darkness of her small room, he’d seen the color of her wide, beautiful eyes. She’d been so frightened when he’d clamped his hand across that mouth of hers. Feeling badly, but knowing it couldn’t be helped, Josh waited impatiently for her to reappear.
She didn’t disappoint him, swiftly moving down the hall. Josh grinned to himself. Aly gave new meaning to that T-shirt of his. He’d brought along a pair of women’s cargo pants and combat boots he’d guessed would fit her. He watched as she quickly wrapped her hair up into a ponytail as she approached him, pleased he’d been so accurate.
Aly reached out, gripping his arm. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quavering as she met his eyes. “You’re risking your life to help me.” Her lower lip quivered and then she closed her fingers more firmly around his lower arm. “I’m so grateful...”
The swelling on her left cheek upset him, along with the large bruise. Anger moved through him. Then he saw bruise marks around her throat. What the hell? What had happened to her?
“Ms. Landon, are you ambulatory?”
His voice was low. Calm. She certainly wasn’t.
“Yes, I can walk.”
“Good. Wear this.” He pulled the last piece of clothing from the small ruck. It was a camo blouse with long sleeves. It would hide her white skin out in the dark jungle, making her less easy to spot. And Josh knew that Duarte, once he found Aly gone, would launch an immediate, all-out hunt to find her. And kill her.
Aly’s hands were shaking as she pulled on the lightweight blouse. She tried to button it.
“Let me,” he growled, pushing her hands aside, quickly buttoning it up.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said, meeting his shadowed eyes. She saw his stoic facade drop for a split second; saw the compassion in his eyes. And then it was gone.
“I’ve located a tunnel nearby. It’s an escape route. I need you to grab my belt here—” he hitched up his shirt to reveal the nylon webbed belt and pointed “—and hold on. Never speak. Don’t make any noise. All right?”
She nodded, her heart starting a hard beat, adrenaline drenching her again. He was so tall, so confident.
He went to the door and looked both ways before gesturing for her to follow him. Once out on the cool, humid walkway, he turned and quietly shut the door. Pointing to the belt, he paused as Aly quickly slid her fingers around it.
Her mouth was dry. Aly was scared to death, wanting desperately to hurry, to escape. Duarte had raged at her yesterday. His gangrenous toes had not improved in the week since she’d started treating him. He’d reached out, grabbed her by the throat and choked her. No one had made a move to stop him as he’d twisted her until she’d fallen across his lap, his black eyes drilling into hers. She hadn’t been able to help herself. Her response had been automatic as she’d tried to pull his hands off her throat as she’d choked and gasped for air.
It was then that Rusak had intervened, grabbing her wrists and squeezing them tightly between his massive, powerful hands. She’d heard Duarte screaming at her in Portuguese, seen her vision graying, unable to breathe as he’d squeezed his fingers deeper into her soft throat. She’d lost consciousness.
Minutes later she’d woken on the cold tile floor, gasping for breath, her throat aching, her wrists throbbing. Rusak had grabbed her and hauled her to her hands and knees in front of the hard-breathing Duarte who’d glared at her. If his feet were not better by tomorrow morning, he’d told her, he would enjoy Rusak raping her in front of him.
They moved quietly down the walk. At a juncture, Aly moved with Patterson, crouched as he was. He had his rifle in his hands, ready to do battle if it became necessary. Her heart was pounding in her sore, aching throat. Tears burned in her eyes. If she didn’t get out of here now, she would be raped in the morning. Oh, God, get us out of here. Please...
Aly had no idea the tunnel existed. The Marine knew where he was going. She never heard him walking so she tried to emulate his gait, making no sound. Her knees wobbled. She felt so scared that she might faint. It wouldn’t be the first time. But now was not the time to have it happen!
Girding herself, Aly felt the Marine grip her arm firmly after opening the tunnel door. He gently guided her into the darkened area. She had no NVGs as he did. Standing, shivering and arms around herself, she waited until he closed the door. He turned and gripped her hand, placing it on his belt once more. Just his touch made her feel better.
They moved down the damp tunnel. It had been dug out of the earth and moved in a gentle slope upward. Aly touched the wall once. It was concrete and it was wet and damp beneath her fingers. The Marine, she swore, was more shadow than man. He seemed to check his stride for her sake. He was over six feet tall, his legs long, and her stride was a lot less than his. She breathed through her mouth, trying to remain quiet.
Aly felt Patterson slow down. She couldn’t see anything but blackness ahead of them. But at least he could see for them. His hand moved to hers and then to her arm. He pulled her to his side. The scent of his sweat entered her flared nostrils as she stood tensely. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but didn’t dare speak. And then he put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his body, slowly moving forward, mincing steps.
Her boot sank into mud. Aly gasped as she suddenly fell forward. She threw out her hands. Patterson caught her, firmly brought her against him. Panic went through Aly as she found it tough to pull her boot out of the hole and the exposed roots. She couldn’t see them, but she felt them. Finally, her foot freed and she sucked in a ragged breath as he took her forward. They were on earth now, no longer in the tunnel.
Just having his arm around her made Aly feel so much better. He seemed to monitor how much pressure he placed against her as he weaved and bobbed through and around things she simply couldn’t see. There was no moon. No nothing except to rely on the Marine.
Aly had no idea how far they had gone tucked together that way when he stopped, released her and turned to her. She could feel his powerful presence, swore she could even feel the heat radiating off his body. “I want you to sit down. I need to get my other ruck. It’s near this tree you can’t see.”
His voice was low, not a whisper. Aly nodded and sat. The seat of her pants quickly got soaked on the decomposed earth. She felt him kneel very close to her.
“I need you to drink water from my CamelBak,” he told her, finding her hand, guiding it to the tube affixed to his shoulder epaulet. “Drink a lot. We’re going to be traveling as fast as you can go for a long time. All right?”
His voice was gravelly but warm. Aly could tell he was concerned about her. She gripped the hose. “All right,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice rough since Duarte’s attempt to strangle her to death. After drinking a lot, her throat hurting, she said, “I’m done. Thank you.”
He moved away without a word.
How relieved Aly was. They were out of that hellish place! She heard very little but thought she knew where the Marine was. Rubbing her face, she tried to collect herself.
“Here,” he said, picking up her hand. “NVGs. Put them on. Do you know how?”
Aly felt helpless. She hated the feeling. “No...sorry...”
“Don’t be,” he rasped, settling them around her eyes and making sure the strap fit enough, but not too tightly around her head. Lifting her hand, he said, “There’s a switch here. Push it forward. It turns them on.”
The instant she did, she saw everything around her. She gasped softly. “I can see!”
He chuckled. And watched her as he unwound and walked over to a huge ruck that he hefted onto his broad back. He belted it up, turned and held out his hand to her.
Aly slipped her hand into his large, callused one. He easily helped her to her feet, but didn’t let go. Instead he pulled her closer and turned her so there was about a foot between them. He had something in his hand.
“This is a radio,” he told her, settling it around her left ear, fitting it and then pulling the small microphone near her lips. He turned it on. “If we get separated—or if I hide you somewhere—you need to know that radio has a two-mile radius. Leave it on at all times.”
His eyes were covered by the NVGs but she felt the seriousness of his instructions. “H-how long until we can get away from here? Back home?” she asked, her voice breaking. She was shocked as he lifted his hand and grazed her uninjured cheek. The brush of his knuckles against her flesh sent wild, arching fire downward. Her breasts tightened.
“Listen, Ms. Landon, we have to go nearly a hundred miles through this jungle to reach our rally point. It’s going to be long and hard. You need to keep drinking water. I’ll stop periodically and we’ll hydrate, eat a protein bar and then keep on going.” His voice dropped. “This isn’t going to be easy for you. But judging from your face and throat, you know any energy you can throw into this will be worth it. Okay?”
Nodding, Aly said, “Yes...I understand.”
“Do you have any other injuries that might slow you down? To your feet, legs or knees?”
She grimaced. “No...just my face, arms and neck.”
“Your father said you had heart,” he told her. “I need all the heart you can give me because we’re in a very dangerous situation. And there’s no help if we get into trouble.”
“My father?” she asked, hope suddenly in her voice.
“Yeah. He’s the one that called and asked me to try to find and rescue you. Are you ready?”
Her heart melted over his low, husky words. Her father had come to her rescue! Tears jammed into her eyes. She couldn’t cry now. “I’m ready,” she said firmly.
“Grab my belt.”
Aly wasn’t prepared in any way for this cross-country trotting. Yes, she had NVGs and she could see where the Marine was heading, where the roots were sticking out of the ground, but very quickly, she was gasping for air. She felt horrible. Felt frightened. The Marine slowed to a stop.
She leaned over, hands on her knees, gasping. She felt his hand against her back and he leaned down near her.
“What’s going on with your breathing, Ms. Landon?”
She straightened, unconsciously touching her swollen throat. “Are you familiar with medicine, Sergeant?”
“Yes, ma’am, just a little.”
She heard slight amusement in his voice. “Yesterday afternoon Duarte suddenly grabbed me by the throat.” She closed her eyes, feeling helpless. “I—I couldn’t stop him. When I tried to get his hand off my throat, Rusak, his security chief, grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head and held me there. I lost consciousness...” She trembled in memory of it.
“Okay,” he breathed softly, “let’s take a moment to rest. I’m going to examine your throat. I’m not going to hurt you....”
Aly was breathing poorly and she knew it. The moment his large fingers moved gently across her throat, she relaxed. He was a man, but he wasn’t hurting her. Aly could feel him assessing the swelling. Finally his hand dropped away.
“I’d like to kill that son of a bitch,” he growled. He dug into one of the pockets on his harness. “I need you to take these two ibuprofen. They’ll help to reduce the swelling, which will start opening up your windpipe so you can breathe easier.”
Aly took the two white capsules. “Thanks,” she whispered. God, why did she have to sound as though she was on the verge of tears? Because she was. The Marine had been so gentle with his examination of her throat. She wanted more of his touch because he made her feel safe in a world that wasn’t.
“Take my water tube,” he told her, turning, his arm against her shoulder, holding the tube out to her.
Aly took the capsules one at a time. It hurt so damn much to swallow. But she did it, drank a lot of water and didn’t complain. She could feel Patterson watching her. Monitoring her. “What time is it?”
“Zero five hundred. Sorry, 5:00 a.m. to you civilian types,” he teased.
She smiled a little. “Sergeant, I’m a military brat. I know Zulu time. I’m pretty familiar with military lingo, okay?” She looked up and saw his white teeth against his painted skin. Warmth flowed through her, calming her. Taking away some of the adrenaline burning through her bloodstream, making all her senses even more alive than normal.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled.
“Call me Aly. I hate military formality.”
He chuckled as he tucked the tube back underneath his epaulet. “Fair enough...Aly.”
“Can I call you...? What?”
“Josh will do. You ready, Aly?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
This time Aly was determined not to slow down as much. Within twenty minutes her airway had improved. She wasn’t in the world’s best shape, but she kept up with his slow trot, the leaves sometime swatting at her. Josh seemed to know where he was going. Every time she thought about Duarte and Rusak, terror sizzled through her, made her want to keep up with the pace Josh had set for them. She had no idea how long they’d run but she suddenly realized there was grayness to the misty-looking sky. Her breath was coming in harsh gasps; her lungs burned with exertion and her leg muscles ached, as well.
“Let’s take a break,” Josh told her, slowing as he pushed the NVGs up on the rail system of his helmet. His eyes adjusted rapidly; they could push on without the goggles. He turned. “Remove your NVGs. You don’t need them anymore.”
He watched her hands tremble as she slowly eased them off her eyes. Josh got his first good look at Aly Landon. The left side of her face was bruised and swollen. And then, there were deep purple bruise marks around her throat. Rage moved through him. She looked lost. Like someone who had been abandoned by the world, her eyes huge and dark blue as she lifted her head and met his gaze.
Josh felt his heart do more than twinge when Aly looked soulfully up into his eyes. He saw terror, pain and hurt in them. As his gaze dropped from her long nose to the shape of her opened lips, he felt his lower body tighten. Groaning inwardly, Josh wanted to roll his eyes and swear. God, her lips were...well...world-class. The lower lip was naturally a pout, her upper lip softly bow-shaped, a little less full. The corners of her mouth were deep and curved upward. He bet she had dimples when she smiled or laughed. But she was doing neither right now. The sheen of perspiration made her face glisten in the early morning light. Tendrils of ginger-colored hair curled at her temples from the high humidity. Her brows were thin and arched; a frame to emphasize those long lashes that held those amazing marine-blue eyes of hers. Yeah, she was soft-looking, all right. But Josh reminded himself of his image of her when she was twelve, terribly injured, critical, but fighting her way back.
“How’s the breathing now?” he asked, pulling out a protein bar and handing it to her.
“Thanks.... Better.”
“You weren’t rasping as much,” he observed, quickly eating his bar, looking around, his ears keyed to any sounds out of the ordinary.
“How far have we come?”
“Five miles. Not enough.” If he’d been alone, he’d be twelve miles away, but he said nothing. She felt bad enough, beaten up, her life threatened continually.
Aly chewed little bits of the bar, unable to swallow hardly anything, but she knew she had to get energy back into her body. There was no way she was ever going back to Duarte’s villa. She’d die first.
“How far should we be?” She looked up at him, thinking the camouflage paint hid his face to a degree. Aly wondered what Josh Patterson looked like without it. Despite his size, his large hands, he had a gentle touch with her. And he tried to not sound gruff to her, she realized. It spoke of his sensitivity and she desperately needed someone who wouldn’t batter her any more in any way.