the good guys, princess.”
Cory froze. Her pulse pounded so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear anything for several moments. When her panic subsided enough, she listened intently. Two men, speaking English, stood not ten feet away.
“We’re not gonna find them in the dark.”
“Fuckin’ A, man, but we can’t go back empty-handed. We got orders. They know that damn SEAL took out Cudjo. We gotta make sure he doesn’t set foot back on US soil.”
She quit breathing. Duke was right. They were being hunted by very bad men. The two moved on, kicking up enough dust Cory needed to sneeze. She squinted her eyes, squiggled her nose, and tensed her whole body. Nothing helped. Air exploded from her nose in a guttural snort. The men stopped.
“What the hell was that?”
“Keep moving. That sounded like one of those fucking wild boars.”
Cory didn’t move for long minutes after the search party cleared the area. With Duke still lying on top of her, she couldn’t move much anyway. When he at last rolled away, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Rather than doing either, she touched his arm and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
“What do we do now?”
“I make a phone call to a friend who might be able to help.”
“We need to go.”
“No. We stay here since they’ve already searched this area. If we aren’t moving, we’re harder to track.” He felt around until his fingers brushed the crinkled material of a solar blanket. Snagging it, he pulled it over the two of them even as he settled Cory against his uninjured side. “Go to sleep, princess. No more nightmares.”
She huffed, her breath teasing his jaw. “I’m still not a princess.”
“Good. Then the rocks we’re sleeping on shouldn’t bother you.”
Duke was honest enough to admit the little growl from the back of her throat turned him on far more than it should. In the morning, he’d use the SAT phone, try to contact Ian McIntire, a former command sergeant major and Army special operator. A man who was a wolf shifter and married to the Army major who had saved Duke and SEAL Team Atlantis from further experimentation at the hands of mad scientists funded by a rogue corporation with government backing.
TWO DAYS. For forty-eight hours they hid. For forty-eight hours, Duke waited for news. They’d been abandoned by the government, by the Navy. If Mac didn’t come through, Duke would slit the doc’s throat and then his own to keep them out of enemy hands. It didn’t help that he had a raging fever making his moments of lucidity few and far between. The SAT phone pinged. He grabbed it, fumbled to click it on. Cory pushed his clumsy hands out of the way.
“Let me.” A moment later, she pressed the phone back into his hand.
“Yeah?”
“Is this the party to whom I’m speaking?”
“Fuck, Boomer, don’t be a smart ass.”
“Oh, yeah. I am talkin’ at that furry ocean manimal we all know and love. The order from Big Mac land is arriving by airmail. You have a PR team headed your way. ETA two hours. They’ll be coming in hard, dark, and so hot, it’ll make your brown eyes cross.” The former explosives expert and combat medic of the army’s Wolves read off a series of coordinates approximately two kilometers away. “Don’t be late, your grace.”
Duke stowed the phone in a side pocket of his combat pants. He’d toss it in the river as they made their way to the pick-up point. “Pack up everything. We can’t leave any evidence behind. Clear?”
“Clear.”
Fifteen minutes later, by his guesstimate, packs were loaded, and they were headed toward the landing zone. They had an hour and forty-five minutes to go just over a mile. They were both exhausted, and Duke knew his wounds had turned septic. The debilitating fever and body aches were a constant reminder. It didn’t matter. He was a SEAL. Cory was his responsibility, and he’d get her to safety. Period. Hooyah.
The princess set a fast pace, despite their
Cory froze. Her pulse pounded so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear anything for several moments. When her panic subsided enough, she listened intently. Two men, speaking English, stood not ten feet away.
“We’re not gonna find them in the dark.”
“Fuckin’ A, man, but we can’t go back empty-handed. We got orders. They know that damn SEAL took out Cudjo. We gotta make sure he doesn’t set foot back on US soil.”
She quit breathing. Duke was right. They were being hunted by very bad men. The two moved on, kicking up enough dust Cory needed to sneeze. She squinted her eyes, squiggled her nose, and tensed her whole body. Nothing helped. Air exploded from her nose in a guttural snort. The men stopped.
“What the hell was that?”
“Keep moving. That sounded like one of those fucking wild boars.”
Cory didn’t move for long minutes after the search party cleared the area. With Duke still lying on top of her, she couldn’t move much anyway. When he at last rolled away, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Rather than doing either, she touched his arm and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
“What do we do now?”
“I make a phone call to a friend who might be able to help.”
“We need to go.”
“No. We stay here since they’ve already searched this area. If we aren’t moving, we’re harder to track.” He felt around until his fingers brushed the crinkled material of a solar blanket. Snagging it, he pulled it over the two of them even as he settled Cory against his uninjured side. “Go to sleep, princess. No more nightmares.”
She huffed, her breath teasing his jaw. “I’m still not a princess.”
“Good. Then the rocks we’re sleeping on shouldn’t bother you.”
Duke was honest enough to admit the little growl from the back of her throat turned him on far more than it should. In the morning, he’d use the SAT phone, try to contact Ian McIntire, a former command sergeant major and Army special operator. A man who was a wolf shifter and married to the Army major who had saved Duke and SEAL Team Atlantis from further experimentation at the hands of mad scientists funded by a rogue corporation with government backing.
TWO DAYS. For forty-eight hours they hid. For forty-eight hours, Duke waited for news. They’d been abandoned by the government, by the Navy. If Mac didn’t come through, Duke would slit the doc’s throat and then his own to keep them out of enemy hands. It didn’t help that he had a raging fever making his moments of lucidity few and far between. The SAT phone pinged. He grabbed it, fumbled to click it on. Cory pushed his clumsy hands out of the way.
“Let me.” A moment later, she pressed the phone back into his hand.
“Yeah?”
“Is this the party to whom I’m speaking?”
“Fuck, Boomer, don’t be a smart ass.”
“Oh, yeah. I am talkin’ at that furry ocean manimal we all know and love. The order from Big Mac land is arriving by airmail. You have a PR team headed your way. ETA two hours. They’ll be coming in hard, dark, and so hot, it’ll make your brown eyes cross.” The former explosives expert and combat medic of the army’s Wolves read off a series of coordinates approximately two kilometers away. “Don’t be late, your grace.”
Duke stowed the phone in a side pocket of his combat pants. He’d toss it in the river as they made their way to the pick-up point. “Pack up everything. We can’t leave any evidence behind. Clear?”
“Clear.”
Fifteen minutes later, by his guesstimate, packs were loaded, and they were headed toward the landing zone. They had an hour and forty-five minutes to go just over a mile. They were both exhausted, and Duke knew his wounds had turned septic. The debilitating fever and body aches were a constant reminder. It didn’t matter. He was a SEAL. Cory was his responsibility, and he’d get her to safety. Period. Hooyah.
The princess set a fast pace, despite their
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