Protecting Fiona (SEAL of Protection Book 3) (2 page)

“Please, let’s just go,” was Julie’s response. Cookie turned and saw that she’d put the pants on and was holding onto the waist with one hand. The pants fit, but barely. Cookie steadied her when she stumbled as she lurched toward the corner of the room where he’d entered. Julie’s hand gripped his shirt into a ball as they headed for the exit.

As Cookie turned to leave the room, he took one last glance around the long room and stilled and narrowed his eyes. He thought he saw something at the other side. Was he seeing things? Cookie cocked his head and strained to listen. Were they about to be caught? Was it one of the men? Cookie gripped the knife at his waist and waited, every muscle ready to leap into action.

Fiona watched dispassionately as the man who’d snuck into their prison helped Julie into a long-sleeved shirt. Fiona didn’t move a muscle. It was obvious that the man had come for the slight woman and not for her. Even though Fiona hoped and prayed someone would find her, it hurt that he’d come for Julie and not her. She was a big girl; she’d survived everything they’d done to her so far, she’d survive this too.

All Fiona could do was look on helplessly. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t beg. She thought about calling out to the man, but he was obviously trying to be quiet and last thing she wanted to do was alert the kidnappers of what was going on, that their latest slave was being rescued.

Fiona watched as the man turned away to give Julie some privacy to put on the pants he’d brought her. She couldn’t hear what he’d said to her, his voice was pitched too low for it to carry across the room. Fiona hadn’t known many men that were honorable, but it seemed that this soldier was one; at least he understood Julie might be embarrassed or traumatized about taking off her shorts in front of him after everything she’d been through.

She watched as the pair turned to leave through the now-missing boards in the corner. Fiona held her breath. She tried to tell herself it was a miracle that at least one of them would get out of this hellhole. Maybe Julie would tell someone about her once she was away from there and safe.

Just as the pair was about to leave, the man turned to take one last look around the room. Fiona watched as he went perfectly still, while seemingly looking right at her. She knew she hadn’t made any noise. Had she? Had she unconsciously moved or done something to gain his attention? Had he seen her? How had he known she was there?

Cookie put his hand on Julie’s arm and whispered, “Wait right here. I thought I saw something.”

“Where are you going?” Julie screeched quietly and grabbed his arm desperately. “No, don’t go over there….we have to go; please I want to go right now!”

Cookie put up his hand to silence her and pried her hand off his arm. “Quiet. Do you want everyone in camp coming in here to see why you’re making so much noise?” At Julie’s quick head shake, he continued. “Right. Now stay here for a second, I’ll be right back.”

Cookie slipped into the darkness toward the other side of the room. He thought he’d seen someone else in the room, his knife at the ready. If it was one of the bad guys, he’d have to take him out. He couldn’t leave any witnesses as to what happened to Julie. As soon as he’d had the thought he dismissed it. It couldn’t have been one of the kidnappers, he would’ve been confronted by now. Cookie was confused, if it was another prisoner why hadn’t the person said anything? Was he seeing things? If it was another person, why hadn’t Tex said anything about a second prisoner? Tex had been illegally monitoring the area with the highly sensitive government satellites, he should’ve known about a second person in the building with Julie.

Cookie and his team were always prepared for anything, but if it
was
another person, or God forbid, more than one person, this rescue just got one hundred percent more complicated. They hadn’t counted on more than Julie, not even Plan B had accounted for more than one prisoner. Cookie tried to mentally calculate the provisions he had with him, along with the extraction procedures as he crept on silent feet to the other side of the long empty space. Everything would have to be altered depending on what he found.

Cookie moved silently along the wall toward where he thought he’d seen something. As he moved, the stench in the room got stronger. If there was someone else here, they’d been here a lot longer than Julie had been, based on the smell alone. He tried not to gag, to react, as he moved closer. Cookie stopped suddenly. Holy shit. It
was
another person, another prisoner. It was a woman.

She looked horrible. She was also chained to the floor, but she’d been chained by the neck instead of by the ankle, as Julie had been. She was sitting with her legs to the side on the floor, with one hand propping her up. She was covered in dirt and filth. He could see the whites of her eyes shining through the grime on her face. The light was almost nonexistent back here, but Cookie could see all too clearly the shape she was in.

She was wearing a raggedy T-shirt, cut off jean shorts that had seen better days, and there was a pair of flip flops sitting next to her on the floor. She sat there staring at him silently.

Fiona watched the man approach her. As she guessed, he was some sort of soldier. She suddenly had the horrible thought that maybe he wasn’t here to rescue Julie, but instead to steal her from their captors to sell her himself. Fiona took a deep breath. No, she had to believe he was there to save Julie, not put her through more hell.

Fiona saw the man take her in in a single glance. She could only guess what she looked like. She knew she was filthy and smelled horrid. Her captors hadn’t allowed her to shower and the only way to see to her needs was the bucket nearby, which hadn’t been emptied in way too long.

They’d tortured her by shortening her chain and attaching it to her neck rather than her ankle so she didn’t have much freedom of movement. Fiona only had enough room to stand up if she hunched over, and only enough to move two feet from one side to another. She was still wearing the same clothes they’d taken her in. She was disgusting, Fiona knew it. She hadn’t worried about it before, rightfully thinking it helped keep her abuse to a minimum, but now…now she cared.

Fiona wasn’t sure what to say to the man. She was embarrassed and desperately wanted to get out of there, but she knew that no one had paid for him to get
her
out, only the other woman. Maybe she could convince him to tell the government or the Army, or
someone
, that she was there so they could come back and get her. Fiona knew there was no way this man could take her with him too. It was okay; she tried to tell herself, really.

Cookie couldn’t help but be shocked. And he wasn’t easily shocked. The types of missions he and his team had been on had, for the most part, all been awful. While some had good outcomes, none were anything he ever wanted to re-live. This trumped them all.

The woman sat on the floor, surrounded by filth, chained to the floor, and just looked at him. Cookie couldn’t believe she hadn’t said anything the whole time he was there. He almost left without knowing she was there.

“Do you speak English? What’s your name?” Cookie asked softly as he kneeled down next to her and reached for his knife.

“Fiona,” she said softly, with no discernible accent.

American,
Cookie thought to himself,
probably from the Midwest
.

“We’ve got to hurry, Fiona,” he said to her distractedly. He said it as much to her as he did to himself. Cookie wasn’t thinking much about her at the moment, his mind was preoccupied with coming up with a new plan on how to get both her and Julie out of the jungle unscathed. He had no clothes for this woman. They’d only planned on Julie. Cookie thought about what he had in his pack. He could give her the extra shirt he’d brought for himself, but he couldn’t do anything about her shoes or her shorts.
Shit
,
this was going to be tough
.

In the midst of thinking through a new escape plan, Cookie also thought back to Julie’s actions. She was going to let them walk out of the room without once saying anything about another person being held with her. Julie was going to let this woman, Fiona, die, or at least be put through more hell. Cookie had met some selfish people in his life, but he’d never thought that anyone could be as callous as Julie had just been. Cookie tried to concentrate back on Fiona and not think about Julie for a moment.

Fiona put out her hand to touch the man, then changed her mind and put it back in her lap. She was amazed the soldier was going to try to break her chain, but he really didn’t have the time. They had to get out of there before they were discovered.

“It’s okay, Sir,” Fiona said as softly as she could. “I know you’re here for her,” she gestured toward Julie who was a dark blob on the other side of the room, impatiently waiting by the corner, “and don’t have time for me, but if you could maybe tell the Army, or police, or
someone
, that I’m here when you get home, I’d appreciate it.”

Cookie stilled and looked at the woman. Had he heard her right? “Pardon?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Fiona almost cried. He sounded mad. She didn’t want to make him mad. She stuttered a bit in responding, and dropped her voice a bit more. Fiona was embarrassed for Julie to hear how pathetic she really was. “I-I-I don’t have any money to hire you to get me away too, so if you could just tell someone when you leave…” she trailed off as the man continued to stare at her.

Finally he said in a clipped tone, “If you think I’m leaving you here, you’re crazy.”

As Fiona opened her mouth, he quietly shushed her and got to work on the chain around her neck.

Cookie was pissed. What the hell? Why would this woman think he’d leave her here? As much as having her along was going to be an inconvenience, it wasn’t impossible. Nothing was impossible, every SEAL had that pounded into them from day one of their training. Cookie couldn’t carry both this woman and Julie, so he hoped one of them would be able to walk on their own. Fiona was painfully thin, but tall. As Cookie leaned toward her, he tried to breathe through his mouth. The stench was horrific, but he knew it would embarrass her if he made any mention of it, consciously or unconsciously.

“I’m sorry that I stink,” Fiona told him softly, as if she could read his mind.

Cookie quietly shushed her again. He didn’t know how else to respond. He couldn’t deny that she stank, but he also didn’t want to say that it didn’t bother him. Cookie didn’t have time to get into all the things he wanted to say to her and to ask her.

He concentrated harder on the chain. He knew time wasn’t on their side. Finally Cookie said to her, “I can’t get the metal collar off right now, but I can break the chain.”

Fiona simply said, “Okay,” as if the heavy metal collar around her neck was a beautiful gold delicate necklace instead of a torture device that had to be causing her pain.

When the chain finally fell free, Cookie eased it to the ground so it wouldn’t clank loudly. He quickly turned back to his pack and dug deep until he came up with his extra shirt. It was long sleeved and black, just like the one he had on. He held it out to Fiona.

“I don’t have any extra pants, but I do have a shirt, it’ll be big on you but it’ll help some. It’s better than nothing.”

Fiona nodded, inordinately pleased to have even that. “Thank you. Seriously, I…it’ll be perfect.”

Cookie continued speaking. “I don’t have any shoes that will fit you or an extra pair of pants,” he told her, voicing his worries out loud.

Fiona knew that walking through the jungle in shorts and flip flops was going to suck, which was probably the understatement of the century, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain. The collar around her neck hurt. It had rubbed her skin raw and she thought she was bleeding, but again, Fiona would volunteer to wear the thing forever if it meant getting out of this hellhole.

“I can manage with just the shirt, thank you,” Fiona told him honestly. At his look of disbelief that she misinterpreted, she straightened a bit and vowed, “I won’t slow you down. I know you don’t have to help me, but I swear I’ll be quiet and I’ll keep up. I’ll do whatever you tell me to, I’ll do anything to get out of here.”

Cookie looked at Fiona in surprise. She kept impressing the hell out of him. She could’ve been hysterical, but she had a quiet dignity about her. He wished he could take the time to get to know more about what the hell had happened to her and how she’d gotten there, but he was quickly running out of time.

“That’s good to hear, Fiona. Just talk to me as we go,” Cookie told her. “I’ll do what I can to help you, but if you don’t tell me something is wrong or that you need assistance, I can’t help you.”

Fiona nodded and told him, “If I
do
slow you down too much, just go on without me. I’ll either catch up or you can send someone back for me later.”

Cookie just shook his head. “Not gonna happen, Fiona,” he told her. “We’re all getting out of here together.”

Cookie stood and reached down to help Fiona up. He grasped her by the upper arm. He shouldn’t have been surprised at how fragile she felt, but he was. Her quiet strength as she’d spoken had distracted him to her true physical state.

He felt her sway a bit, but she caught herself and straightened quickly. Cookie heard her take one quick inhale of breath and then quiet herself. He watched as Fiona hobbled awkwardly over to her flip-flops and slipped them onto her feet. She nodded awkwardly, because of the metal collar, as if to tell him she was ready to go.

Cookie grabbed her hand and squeezed, something he didn’t have to do, and normally didn’t do, but he wanted to show this woman that everything would be all right. There was just something about her that made him want to reassure her. The team had been taught when rescuing civilians from uncertain situations, not to touch them unnecessarily. They had no idea what they’d been through and what might be a trigger for them. The last thing the team needed was someone flipping out or reacting badly in the middle of a volatile situation.