Page 72 of Fast Vengeance

It hurt to breathe, much less take a deep breath. The little air he managed to suck in left his lungs on a scream when Maka grabbed his arms, pulled him upright and then bent to lever Brock across his wide shoulders.

Fire burned through his ribs, through his arms and down his spine. When he could finally get a gasp in Maka was already on his feet and heading for the door. Glad as he was to be rescued, Brock wasn’t sure he could handle being carried right now.

“I c-can walk,” he gritted out.

“Not today,” Maka replied, and rushed out of the hellish room.

The difference in temperature was immediate and startling. Brock groaned in sheer relief as the air seemed to warm with every step Maka took.

Time blurred. His head spun. He faded in and out during the trip up the stairs. Might have puked once.

He came to sometime later with the sound of rapid Spanish floating around him. Maka was carrying him through what looked like the main floor of the house, and there were Mexican forces all around them.

“Tori,” he rasped out when Maka carried him outside into the warm night air.

The big guy went to his knees on the lawn, eased Brock off him onto his back on the grass and peered down at him in concern. “What’s that, Cap?”

No, not Tori. They didn’t know her as Tori. “Vict-toria.”

Maka shook his head, wrapped the thermal blanket more tightly around him. “You’ll see her soon enough.” Brock wanted to ask what he meant but Maka was already looking back at the house. “Khan! Get your ass over here.”

“Nieto,” Brock managed. “Was here earlier.”

“I’ll inform Taggart.”

The team medic came running over, knelt beside Brock. “Hey, Cap. Let’s take a look at you.” Khan unwrapped the thin thermal blanket and started checking him over.

Fire. Fire burning in his shoulders, wrists and ribs. Everything else was icy cold. His teammates gathered around him, all trying to help.

“Gimme some room, dammit,” Khan snapped, and everyone else backed off.

Brock closed his eyes, let himself drift until Khan tried to move his right arm. Brock let out a snarl and tried to curl in on himself but his muscles wouldn’t cooperate.

“Damn, Khan, stop moving him,” Lockhart said.

“Will in a sec.” The medic continued to check him over. “They’ve got an ambulance coming for you, Cap. I’m gonna get an IV started, get some fluids into you and then—”

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Brock rolled his head to the side, managed to focus on Taggart as their commander rushed out of the house. He was dressed in tac gear and carrying a rifle.

“We got a situation going down a few houses north up the beach,” he said, pointing behind him. “Nieto’s trying to make a run for it with Oceane. Mexican SF wants us to help stop him, so we’ve gotta haul ass.”

Chapter Nineteen

Oceane ‘s heart was in her throat as she fought to break free of David’s grip. His fingers were like steel as he dragged her down a staircase hidden beneath the butler pantry floor.

“You can’t do this,” she cried, twisting and pulling. “David, stop.”

“Can’t,” he replied, his stride never slowing. As though her attempts to break free were no more bothersome to him than a mosquito buzzing around his head.

Panic knifed through her. Nieto had her now. Everything was in chaos. He may not hurt her, but neither would he let her go. And she had no idea where her rescue was, or if the team even knew her location now.

A light appeared from somewhere up ahead along the corridor. The radio on David’s hip squawked.

“I’m bringing the boat up now,” a man said.

Boat? “Where are you taking me?” she demanded. God, she needed to stall. Find a way to delay their departure long enough to give the team coming for her time to get here.

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