WAR: Disruption (40 page)

After glancing over at Dietrich, the guard followed Max’s orders.

Johann helped Dietrich sit up. Dietrich glanced behind him at the black shadow that was the approaching helicopter, then smirked at Max. “It appears, Maximilian, that although you hold the upper hand at this moment, once again I shall best you. My backup helicopter has arrived.”

A guard Max hadn’t noticed before crawled out from the other side of the Land Rover and lurched toward Emily’s Hummer, firing. Max pivoted and pulled the trigger, but his damn weapon jammed. As Emily ducked back inside and rolled up the window, Max turned his rifle to the side and racked the slide twice to eject the jammed shell casing.

The guard kept firing at Emily’s vehicle, but his bullets didn’t fully penetrate the light armor or the reinforced glass. Running up to the vehicle, the grabbed the door handle and tried to pull it open, but Emily had locked it.
 

The Hummer lurched into reverse and careened backward across the field. The guard grabbed onto the side mirror, and was dragged along as Emily zigged and zagged trying to throw him off.

Max chambered a new round, raised his rifle, then jumped back into the driver’s seat barely in time to avoid having his feet shot up. The injured guard had taken advantage of his temporary distraction, retrieved his weapon, and fired.

Max stuck his head and shoulders out just long enough to shoot the injured guard and the man hanging on to Emily’s vehicle. Then he took aim at Dietrich. “Nobody move.”

Dietrich smiled at him and nodded toward the approaching helicopter.

But that didn’t sound like a Soviet chopper. Sure enough, when Max glanced up he saw an unmarked Black Hawk. He bit back a smile. Dietrich didn’t own any Black Hawks.

The helicopter came in fast, turned its flank, hovered, then opened its bay door.

“Max Lansing, you sorry son of a bitch,” the familiar Texas twang of Marcus Jones boomed out from the helicopter’s PA system. “I thought this was a rescue mission. Where the hell’s the firefight?”

Max gave WAR’s best pilot a one-fingered salute and a grin as a team of six men in black assault gear jumped out of the helicopter and rushed over to secure Dietrich and the guards. The look on Dietrich’s face was priceless. God, he wished Emily had her camera—

Oh no. She’d been racing away. He turned to look for her just as her Hummer came racing back and screeched to a halt beside his. She must have noticed that help had arrived.

A grin broke out on her face as she hopped out and ran toward him.

Max fumbled with his door. Christ. Why couldn’t his damn body work for once? But his fingers were suddenly clumsy.

Then Emily was there, yanking open the door and throwing herself into his arms.

“You’re safe.” She covered his face with kisses.

He pulled her against him. “Your shoulder. Shot. Doctor.” Dammit, why couldn’t he get his thoughts out?

“It hurts, but I’m okay.” She glanced toward the helicopter. “That’s Kristoff’s team?”

He nodded.

“Oh, thank God. We’re both safe. Max, I was so scared!”

He put his hands to either side of her face and kissed her. Damn, she tasted good. But why was the world slipping sideways?

“Max?”

His vision tunneled. “Love…you…”

“Max!”

His world went dark.

Day Seventeen

Undisclosed Hospital, New York City

United States

EMILY PACED ACROSS the waiting room in an exclusive hospital in New York City. Dr. LaSalle and a surgeon working with WAR had decided that the damage to Max’s leg was so severe it required a specialist. Not only had it become infected, but in addition to extensive nerve and muscle damage, there’d been some fracturing of the bone due to the kicks from Ziegler’s steel-toed loafers. So after he’d been stabilized, and with Emily’s father calling in some favors, Max had been transferred here from WAR’s small clinic in The Democratic Republic of the Ivory Coast.

“You shouldn’t be putting weight on those feet.”

Emily turned as Max’s brother Wil strode into the room. Thanks to top-of-the-line prostheses, you wouldn’t know from watching him walk that he’d lost both his lower legs.

She shrugged and met his disapproving blue eyes. “I was a ballet dancer,” she said, dismissing his comment with a wave of her hand. “I’m used to having beat up feet.”

Wil glanced pointedly at the special booties she was wearing. “Broken, infected blisters. Multiple lacerations.” He glanced up and started ticking points off on his fingers. “Gunshot wound to the shoulder that required minor surgery. Bruises. Insect bites. Dehydration and malnutrition. Orders are for you to rest. To take your antibiotics and heal.” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Have I missed anything?”

She shook her head. With his military buzz cut and the lines of strain etched into his face, Wil looked sterner than Max. Less likely to laugh. Just her luck that with Max in and out of surgery since their arrival, Wil had decided to step in as her keeper.

Well, she was too worried about whether the doctors would be able to repair Max’s leg to appreciate Wil’s brotherly concern. So she met his stare without flinching. “There’s no way I can stay in my tiny room until I know Max is going to be okay.” They’d been notified a while ago that Max had been moved to post-surgery recovery, but hospital protocol prohibited them from visiting him until he’d been moved to his regular room. Because his surgeon had been immediately called away to another patient, they hadn’t heard yet if Max would regain full use of his leg.

“I’d go crazy in my room.” Not to mention that she was still edgy. Jumping at every tiny noise. At least the waiting room had a television in the corner to distract her, plus the occasional passerby to snag her attention. And here she could see who was walking down the hallway, unlike being trapped in her room where she never knew if the footsteps indicated danger or not.

Wil scowled at her, the expression so much like Max’s that she had to look away. He sighed and put his hand on her undamaged shoulder. “Look, I understand waiting is hard for you. It’s no piece of cake for me, either.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Guess now I know how my family felt when I was in and out of the operating room. But wearing yourself out with worry isn’t helping Max. When he wakes up he’ll want to see that you’re healthy and happy. And frankly, you still look like shit.”

She choked in astonishment and raised her eyebrows. “Wil, you seriously need to work on your motivational speeches. Does that kind of harsh talk work with your soldiers?”

“Nah, Marines are tougher than that,” he said. “You’re getting the soft sell.”

“Be still my heart.” She sighed and ran a hand over her hair, tucking the few stray strands back into her bun. Wil was right. Always slender, she’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose during her time in the jungle. So she
did
sort of resemble a cadaver more than a healthy woman. Yet food didn’t interest her. A typical response when she was stressed.

She’d probably look a little better if she could sleep. But she didn’t want to take the sleeping pill they’d prescribed for her. She wanted to be able to go to Max’s side as soon as he was cleared for visitors, not be lost in an artificially deep sleep.

Besides, while it had been four days since the WAR helicopter had taken them away from the field where they’d confronted Dietrich and his men, Emily still hadn’t been able to shake the sense of urgency riding her. Whenever she did manage a few hours of sleep, she had nightmares about being chased. About Max being shot and her holding his bloody body while he died.

She shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms. Then winced, because that pulled at her shoulder wound.

“Hey.” Wil took her hands, rubbing them between his own. “Max is going to be okay. My brother is as stubborn as they come. And if they do have to take his leg…” Wil shrugged. “I can help him work through it.”

Emily sighed and squeezed Wil’s fingers. “I’m sorry. I must seem terribly self-centered to you.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re not.” He nailed her with a look. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how jumpy you are. Take it from someone who’s been there, don’t hold your thoughts and feelings inside. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll get you access to professionals who can help you work through this experience.”

Until he’d spoken, she hadn’t realized how much she’d needed someone else to understand why she was still so on edge. “Thanks,” she whispered, fighting back tears.

“You’re welcome.” Wil pulled her into a hug, carefully not touching her wounded shoulder.

“I really hate hospitals,” she said against his chest.

He made a sound of disgust. “Yeah, me too. And my poor parents. First me, now Max.”

Emily pushed away. “Oh, God,” she choked out. “My parents are going to be here in a few hours.” They were arriving on the same flight as Max’s mom and dad. “The hospital staff aren’t going to know what hit them once my dad is on scene.”

“Is he bossy? Argumentative? Refuses to take no for an answer?”

She nodded.

“Sounds like Max when I was in the hospital. According to my parents, he treated the staff as if they were recruits in his unit, only there to do his bidding and make my life easier.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I have to say one thing about my brother, he’s ferociously loyal. And protective.”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Wil sobered. “Don’t let him push you away, Emily. He might try, thinking he needs to protect you. But don’t fall for that bullshit. You love him. He loves you. More, he needs you. He needs to let the people who care for him back into his life.”

“You know that even with Dietrich in custody, Max is still going to want to protect you and the others from Dietrich’s sponsor,” she warned.

“Screw that. He’s had enough time to play lone martyr. I fully intend to be a part of his life again. Kristoff and the rest of Max’s former teammates feel the same way. Are you with us?”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure there’s a place for me in Max’s future.” Seeing the question in Wil’s eyes, she glanced away. “I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.” Only one thing was certain. She was done wallowing in pity because her career as a principal ballet dancer was over. Her scars weren’t the big deal that she’d thought they were. With careful adherence to her physical therapy regimen, this latest damage to her shoulder shouldn’t further decrease her mobility. There were other forms of dance or physical activity that she could participate in. Learning the African dances and running through the jungle had proven that.

So, maybe she’d choose to branch out in the dance world. Or maybe she’d decide to follow-up with her photography. Advocate for those affected by war. The point was, she had options she hadn’t recognized before.

Speaking of her photography, “Have you heard anything about the photos I took?”

Wil nodded. “My source says they’re being used as evidence against Dietrich and his men. Excellent work.” He met her eyes. “If you’re wondering about the future, I think WAR would be interested in utilizing your photography skills.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “You’re that close to them?”

Some indefinable emotion crossed Wil’s face. “Yeah, I’ve been working closely with Kris and the rest of Max’s former team from Unit 3.”

“Thanks. Even if I figure out what I want to do with my life, that doesn’t mean Max will let me in.”

“That’s why I’m talking to you now. Don’t let him get away with that crap. If you love him, fight for him. That’s our plan. From now on, it’s going to be a full court press.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Max doesn’t stand a chance. So, are you with us on Campaign Max?”

Emily laughed and held out her hand. “I’m in.”

“Excellent.” Instead of taking her hand, Wil pulled her into another hug.

Max’s surgeon strode into the waiting room. “Sorry for the delay. I have good news.”

Emily rushed over to him. “He’s okay?”

“Yes. We were able to repair Max’s leg. He might lose some sensation, but other than that, he should regain full use of his leg.”

Emily clutched at Wil’s arm, so dizzy with elation that she thought she’d faint. “Can we see him?”

“They’re just now moving him from recovery to his room, but—”

A gurney rattled down the corridor. Max’s voice, faint but querulous, argued with the nurse walking beside him.

The surgeon shook his head and gave a rueful smile. “Max is a stubborn, stubborn man. He shouldn’t even be awake yet. Given his level of determination, I expect he’ll be pushing the limits of his recovery at every opportunity.” He speared first Wil, then Emily with a stern glance. “You two will have your hands full, but I’m counting on you to make certain he doesn’t re-injure the leg.”

Wil gave an evil smile and rubbed his hands together. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Emily didn’t even realize she’d moved until she was beside Max, looking down into his pale, beat up face. “Max, honey, are you already causing trouble?”

His eyes met hers, full of such intense love that her heart soared. “I—”

She leaned forward and kissed him. The familiar taste of him, the softness of his lips beneath hers, broke the barricade she’d erected to hold back her emotions. Tears dripped onto his face.

“Hey,” he said weakly. “Hey, now. Don’t cry, Em. I’m okay. We made it.” He frowned. “You’re okay, right? Your shoulder isn’t permanently damaged?”

She sniffled. “I’m fine, Max.”

He tried to raise his hand, but the nurse held him down.

“Don’t move, Max,” Emily chided. “Just be quiet and listen to the nurses. You need to rest. To heal. I’ll be right here.”

“Come closer.”

“Huh?”

“I want to tell you something.”

“O-kay.” She leaned down.

Max put his mouth against her ear. “I am so incredibly proud of you. You’re amazingly fierce. Strong. Such a fighter.” His tongue traced the shell of her ear. “You turn me on.”

She glanced at the nurse. “Ma-ax!”

He gave her an innocent look, but his words were anything but. “Think about you and me and a bed. Imagine all the things I can do to you. Dream about everything you want to do to me. I promise, when we get out of here, we’re going to explore every single one of those fantasies. Every. Single. One. I’m going to start by working you with my tongue until you’re begging for release, then I’ll send you screaming over the edge.”