Always a Warrior(51)

Next to her, Damien put a finger to his lips for silence. He pointed to the trees, then her, then himself. ‘Follow me’. She understood. He slithered along the ground, rifle pointed ahead of him.



Laurie shifted the rifle to her shoulders, slipped the pistol from her waistband, and followed Damien so closely she could reach out and grab his foot. Her anxious gaze stayed ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

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riveted to the soles of his boots. Rocks and dirt scraped her stomach but she ignored the discomfort. The rifle, banging on her back, became a nuisance but she loathed relinquishing it.



They slowly made their way into the thicker cover of the woods. Damien stopped behind a tree, rose to his knees, and quickly scanned the area. Laurie sat back against another tree, staring anxiously at him. He looked back at her, his face grim and dirty. Anger blazed in his eyes. She shrugged.



But she was not as nonchalant or brave as she wanted to appear. Her heart pounded erratically. Sweaty palms made the pistol slippery in her hand. Adrenaline had her tense, wary, almost lightheaded with the impact of heightened senses. Every sound jerked at her nerves. The sun was hard and brittle rather than warm and comforting.



A sudden rustle of movement snapped her attention to the right. Damien jerked his thumb down. Laurie dropped, hugging dirt. Damien followed suit just as a terrorist stepped around the tree, practically on top of him. All Damien carried was a rifle, useless in close quarters.



He grabbed the man’s ankle. The terrorist let out a startled yelp. Laurie pointed the pistol and fired. The shot cracked around them and the terrorist toppled backward, a bright stain of blood spreading over his chest.



Damien looked back at her. Surprise mingled with gratitude in his eyes. He nodded approval. She gave him a triumphant grin. He moved his hands rapidly but his signals meant nothing to her this time. She cocked her head and shrugged. Scowling, he slid back beside her.



“We have to get to a jeep or we’ll never get out of here alive.”



His harsh declaration filled her with stomach churning dread and she shuddered. But his relentless determination not to be defeated strengthened her resolve. She would be reunited with her daughter or die in the attempt.



But as her gaze rested on Damien, it occurred to her that if she had to die, she would rather be with him than alone or with anyone else. She also realized, interpreting the hard glint in his eyes, Damien had no intention of being a corpse. She nodded her understanding and willing cooperation. A brief gleam entered his eyes then disappeared as he jerked his thumb to the left.



A few minutes later, carefully dodging terrorists intent on finding and killing them, they studied a jeep from behind a huge tree. A machine gun had been mounted in the back of the jeep.

Three men guarded it—two near the gun and one near the driver’s seat. They laughed and joked, obviously confident of their quarries’ eventual capture. Damien extended his hand, palm up, his dark eyes warning her to be ready. She slapped the pistol into his hand and nodded curtly, every muscle tensed to spring.



Damien leaped like a panther from behind the tree and fired three quick shots. Caught flatfooted, the terrorists fell, dead before they hit the ground. Damien lunged forward and jumped behind the steering wheel. Laurie ran and launched herself into the back of the jeep, barely missing the machine gun. She banged her knees and elbows and clamped her teeth on her lower lip to stop the whimpers from the sharp, radiating pain. She would not be a whiny wimp and complicate the situation further. The rifle she miraculously still carried clattered loudly on metal.



Damien started the engine and the jeep lurched forward. Laurie clutched the rifle and struggled to sit up. Damien drove around the trees until he found the road leading to the terrorist compound. He turned in the opposite direction. Laurie crouched in the back of the jeep, aiming the rifle to the rear.



Later, confident they were not being followed, Laurie climbed into the front passenger seat. Damien navigated the narrow bumpy road expertly. Laurie leaned back in the seat with a ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

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heartfelt sigh of relief. Gradually her breathing slowed and her heartbeat steadied but she trembled with adrenaline let down. She took one look at Damien’s forbidding expression and wisely remained silent.



That evening Damien stopped the jeep in a small village. Fluent in Spanish, much to Laurie’s surprise, he got them a room over a local bar. Grim-faced, he led her through the rough, seedy bar and up the stairs to their room. He shoved her inside, followed, and slammed the door shut with a resounding crack.



Laurie stumbled, caught herself on the edge of an old dresser, and turned slowly to face Damien. He looked furious. He stood just inside the door, arms crossed over his broad chest, pistol on his hip, rifle slung over his shoulder, and stared at her. Trembling, she clutched her rifle to her chest and wondered what he might do to her for causing him to be left behind. His eyes widened in astonishment. His expression softened slightly and he shook his head.