Sanctuary: Delos Series, Book 9 Page 24
“S-she escaped!” he cried out. “When we slowed down for the curve, she jumped out the back of the second Land Rover!”
“Where were you?” Ayman snarled. “How did you know this?”
“I-I was driving the Rover behind her. I saw her do it. S-she ran toward the Nile. She disappeared into the reeds! I swear, that’s the last I saw of her!”
Nolan listened, his face expressionless as he assessed the frightened man.
“Was she hurt?” Nolan demanded in Arabic.
“Uzan drugged her,” he cried. “I had nothing to do with this! I was only hired to drive!”
“Did she injure herself when she escaped from the Rover?” Ayman angrily demanded.
“I-I saw her fall out onto the road. She landed hard on her hands and knees. A-and then, she took off fast, like a gazelle, and raced for the reeds. I-I don’t know if she’s injured or not.”
Nolan traded a grim glance with Ayman. The Sudanese Army soldiers were picking up all the discarded weapons, keeping them in one heap and away from the cuffed enemies.
“Which way did she go? Upstream or downstream?” Ayman growled, holding Nazir’s wide, bloodshot eyes.
“I-I don’t know! I swear by Allah, I don’t know! Don’t shoot me, Ayman! Spare me!” he shrieked. “I did Teren no harm! No harm! I swear it!”
Nolan’s lips drew away from his teeth. “Where’s Uzan? He isn’t here. Where did he go?”
Nazir gulped. “I-I don’t know! Everything…everything got confused, the gunfire…”
Yeah, Nolan thought, damn right there was gunfire. It was like the OK Corral, everyone firing at everyone else at point-blank range. But only he, Ayman, and Ayman’s men hit their targets, unlike the thugs, who were rattled and really didn’t know how to shoot calmly during a firefight. Nolan said nothing, sending Nazir a hard, threatening look.
Ayman snarled in disgust and slammed Nazir back onto the dusty ground. He landed hard and rolled away.
Straightening, Ayman turned to Nolan. “Uzan escaped. I’ll bet he headed into the reeds just like Teren did.”
That scared Nolan more than anything else. Uzan could be going in the same direction as Teren. What if they accidentally ran into one another? “Which way would she go, Ayman?”
“She would head upriver toward the village.” Ayman pointed south. “Teren’s not stupid. She would know there was help there. The people of the village would aid her. She would swim or work her way through the reeds along the river. This bed of reeds goes for a mile south and then ends—if she made it that far. She would probably try to swim across the Nile to the other bank, because she could go hide in the brush and trees you see farther down on that side of the river. That stand of trees goes all the way to the pastures of Zalta. I’m sure she’d go that direction, because she’d be well hidden, out of the water, and out of sight of Uzan’s men.”
Wiping his mouth, Nolan released a spent mag on his Glock and shoved in another one with the palm of his hand. “My gut tells me Uzan will do the same thing.”
“Yes, I fear that,” Ayman muttered, worried.
“I’m going to find her.”
“We’ll search with you,” Ayman promised, and ordered three of his soldiers to come with them. The others would guard the prisoners. Earlier, Ayman had called for a Sudanese Army transport truck to be driven from Khartoum to this spot to pick up all the prisoners. It was already under way and would arrive in three hours.
But a lot could happen in three hours…
CHAPTER 19
Nolan spent nearly ten minutes trotting slowly down the bank of the Nile, searching for Teren. His heart rate skyrocketed as he glimpsed her unconscious halfway up the muddy bank. He made a sharp, silent gesture to Ayman, who was about ten feet behind him. The soldiers had trailed slowly behind their captain, trying to see if they could locate Uzan. Nolan had barely spotted Teren because the thick reeds were nearly impenetrable. It had been the sun striking her hair, a color that was out of the ordinary if anyone was looking at the wall of green papyrus. His years as an operator had honed his vision to look for what was out of place, and her hair color, brown, stood in stark contrast to the green wall of reeds.
He wanted to run to her but knew Uzan could be waiting for one of them to approach Teren, who lay unmoving. Nolan swallowed hard. Sweat was running down his temples. He held the Glock ready in both hands, crouching and moving sideways, his gaze ruthlessly sweeping around Teren. Was she dead? He didn’t think so because her skin, although muddied, was not gray, which would indicate she had passed.
Let her live…let her live…
His heart was pounding so hard that it was blocking his exceptional hearing ability. A great white heron flew overhead. Another bird, a white egret, landed in the top of one of the slowly waving papyri. Nolan knew if there was another human near Teren, the egret wouldn’t have landed. The bird landed because Teren might have been strange-looking and out of place, but she wasn’t moving and therefore was not a threat. If Uzan was nearby, chances were he would be crouched and waiting, or moving. Either way, the bird would see the man’s eyes, see him blinking, and take off, not feeling comfortable enough to perch.
His fingers were sweaty around the Glock, his breath shallow, as he approached Teren. Ayman was coming up silently behind him, intently scanning the papyrus, his Glock drawn and prepared to fire. Having another military-trained partner took a huge load off Nolan’s shoulders. He was used to working in a team situation and Ayman would have his back as he swiftly moved forward.
Now, directly on top of the bank in a crouch, Nolan swept the area where Teren lay one more time. Crocs, he knew, were a secondary threat, and he remained on guard, looking for eyes and a partial snout floating in the water approaching her legs.
A soldier ran swiftly by him, rifle at the ready, his eyes riveted on the reeds around Teren. He was acting as a decoy so that Teren could be rescued.
Nolan was grateful for the tactic, which gave him time to jam the Glock into his waistband and leap down the bank to get Teren the hell out of there. Let her be alive!! Let her be all right. His eyes missed nothing as he slipped and slid down the sandy ocher embankment, the heels of his boots sinking into the black ooze near the waterline. He saw no blood on her body, just mud on her soaked clothing. Her lips were parted, eyes shut, hands above her head, as if she was trying to claw her way up the bank when she lost consciousness.
Knowing she’d been drugged, Nolan approached her from the rear, keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding area. The reeds were so thick, nothing could be seen except at very close range. He knelt down on one knee, slipping his hand beneath her neck, the ends of her hair and half her face, coated in mud. Wanting to scream, wanting to become impatient, Nolan knew better. He had no idea of the possible extent of her injuries.
Ayman came, standing on the bank. “Clear,” he told Nolan, still scanning the river beyond the reed beds.
“I need your help,” Nolan said gruffly, directing him to come down in the front of where Teren lay. “Do you see any blood on her? Any wounds?”
Ayman scowled, slipping and sliding down the ten-foot embankment, kneeling in front of Teren. “No. She’s been drugged. Probably unconscious due to that alone.” He ran his hands over Teren swiftly and knowingly, as Nolan did, checking her hips, legs, and knees, and then he helped drag her lower body out of the water. “She looks fine,” Ayman rasped, still warily watching the reeds surrounding them.
“I’m going to pick her up,” Nolan growled. “Help me?” Because he was standing on unstable sand and mud, he didn’t want to try to pick Teren up and then slip and fall with her in his arms.
“Go,” Ayman said, steadying her as Nolan slid his other arm beneath her bent, wet legs.
In a moment, with Ayman’s support, Nolan was able to bring Teren into his arms. She was limp, her head lolling back against his shoulder. Ayman brought one of her arms up, placing it against her body, helping Nolan get up the slippery bank.
A
yman growled, “Look,” he pointed to her torn pants around her injured knees, blood still leaking down her legs.
Once on top of the bank, Nolan swiftly walked over to a nearby tree and laid Teren down under its shade. The second soldier joined Ayman, hunting for Uzan. Nolan’s heart was aching with dread as he tipped Teren’s chin upward so that she could breathe more easily.
Ayman pulled out his satellite phone from the harness he wore. “I’m calling for a helicopter from Khartoum,” he called to Nolan. “Teren needs medical assistance now.”
Nolan nodded his agreement. He was well trained in emergency medicine and moved his two fingers against Teren’s carotid artery on the side of her slender neck. Her pulse was slow but strong. A little of the terror he felt dissolved. Her skin was a good color, although her face was muddy and colorless, indicating drug overdose.
He was no stranger to such a thing. He wished for blankets, for an IV to give her life-sustaining fluids, but out here, there was nothing available.
“What about the medical doctors in Zalta?”
“They won’t have drug overdose medication to pull her out of this,” Ayman said, punching the numbers into his sat phone. “I can get a helo out here in thirty minutes with everything we need to get her out of this drugged state…you just keep her stable.”
Yeah, that was as good as it got out in this third-world country, and Nolan knew it. Nodding, he tried to remove some of the wet mud from Teren’s slack face. He’d kissed those lips of hers, listened to her breathy, smoky laughter, seen her gray eyes, like soft diamonds, dance with amusement. And now, she lay like a broken doll, limp and unmoving as he knelt beside her. He waved his hand, keeping the pesky flies away from her face and exposed arms. As Ayman made the emergency request from the Sudanese Army in Khartoum, Nolan checked her front and back for any other injuries—to his relief, he found none.
Suddenly, M4 gunfire erupted upriver. Nolan automatically threw himself over Teren, going for his pistol. Ayman had whirled around, sat phone at his ear, his other hand going for his Glock.
Nolan saw his soldiers firing into the reeds upstream. He remained with Teren, protecting her with his body. Unable to see anything, he held the Glock at the ready.
Ayman was craning his neck, not firing either. He finally connected with the Army in Khartoum, quickly speaking in Arabic, ordering a helicopter and medical specialists to their GPS coordinates.
Abruptly, the shooting stopped. What the hell? Nolan craned his neck, frustrated that he could only see the soldiers on the reed bed of the bank, rifles pointed into them.
Nolan, tense, remained where he was, watching, waiting. The mud on Teren’s body coated his, but all he could think of was, had they found Uzan? Killed him? He watched as the soldiers suddenly leaped down the embankment, splashing into the reeds, charging into and out of them, rifles up and prepared to fire once more.
Ayman signed off on the sat phone. “Stay here,” he ordered Nolan, sprinting toward his men. Easing away from Teren, Nolan stood and walked around her, crouching nearby, fully alert. His gaze swept up and down the reed stands along the bank. Then he heard shouts.
Nolan froze.
He saw Ayman leap into the reeds, Glock up in his hand. He quickly disappeared into them. Were they chasing Uzan? Nolan would bet on it. If they hadn’t wounded or killed the bastard, he was probably trying to swim across the Nile to escape to the other side.
Suddenly, a man’s terrifying shriek ripped through the air. Nolan stood, eyes fixed on where the scream had originated.
More screams. Wailing.
Worried, Nolan thought it was one of Ayman’s soldiers. He couldn’t see anything beyond the papyrus screen. Damn it!
And then, sudden quiet.
Nolan remained at his post and knelt near Teren’s shoulder, reaching out, sliding his hand gently across it, trying to give her some sense of safety even though she was unconscious. Nolan knew her life was still in jeopardy. What kind of drug had Uzan given her? Had she been overdosed? It could kill her unless they got her to a hospital in time to neutralize the medicine.
Desperate, Nolan wanted to take Teren into his arms, hold her close, give her his warmth, his strength. As he watched her slack face, his heart lurched in terror of losing her forever.
*
Nolan sat on the edge of Teren’s hospital bed in a private, air-conditioned room at the medical center in Khartoum. Everything was quiet. Night had fallen hours ago and he’d continued to stand watch over her. Two dedicated nurses had gently washed her hair and body, removing all the mud and blood on her hands and knees, placing her in a clean, soft blue nightgown. She lay beneath the covers of the bed, still and pale. There was nothing to do but wait, the doctors told him.
Nolan gazed at her bruised arm. There were two IVs in her: one feeding her necessary fluids, the other an antidrug medication to counter the drug Uzan had given to her. Slowly, he was seeing signs of change come into her face, the waxen look giving way to a bit of color. The nurses had combed her hair and had tended to her as if she were their own beloved child. Nolan was grateful for their care and gentleness with Teren.
The doctor had come in earlier and told him Teren had been given an opiate drug. “Guaranteed to knock a Kenana bull to its knees.” It had felled Teren, too. The anti-opiate drug was now helping to neutralize the rest of it in her body. No one was sure when Teren would regain consciousness, but they knew that eventually she would. Nolan felt his knees weakening when the doctor reassured him that she would survive this. At first, he advised Nolan, she’d awaken and be terribly disoriented, her mind muddled, unsure of where she was. Nolan promised to stay with her when she regained consciousness.
Ayman had already dropped by and listened to the doctor’s prognosis for Teren. His hardened face softened over the good news. He’d shaken Nolan’s hand, clapped him on the shoulder to comfort him, and then left for Kitra, his soldiers guarding the door to Teren’s hospital room. Ayman took no risks under the circumstances. There could be other enemies out there who, if they found out she was here, would attack and try to kill Teren. Uzan’s remaining goons they’d captured earlier had been turned over to the police and would be properly dealt with, never to see the outside of a prison again. Sudan dealt harshly with kidnappers.
Nolan saw Teren’s eyelids quiver. He slid his fingers around her cool hand, watching her intently. Color began to flood her cheeks, and he knew that she would become conscious shortly. His heart lifted, the dread beginning to dissolve. He loved her so much and once she was coherent, Nolan wasn’t going to hold back that admission any longer. He’d come too close to losing her.
His fingers tightened around Teren’s, silently reassuring her and mentally begging her to return to him and the love that had never been given words.
As her dark-brown lashes lifted, Nolan saw the confusion in her murky-looking gray eyes. And then she uttered a low sound of protest, trying to lick her lower lip but not succeeding.
Nolan realized she was thirsty. Cupping her cheek, he felt the warmth returning to her body. Her lashes lifted marginally as he lightly stroked her cheek.
“Teren? It’s Nolan. You’re here in the Khartoum hospital with me, and you’re safe.” He tried to keep the wobble of emotions out of his low voice but didn’t succeed. Her brows slowly drew down, and she closed her eyes again. He didn’t want her to dive back into that drugged state again but knew that she could. Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her special scent. The nurses had used a shampoo with a cinnamon fragrance, and he smiled a little as he lifted his mouth away from her forehead.
“You’re coming out of a drug haze, sweetheart, but you’re going to be all right…” His voice still shook as he gazed at her. She emanated such an ethereal innocence. It had nothing to do with her age, her maturity, or her life experiences. It was simply a part of her, of who she was from the time she’d been born until this minute. He grazed her cheek as she stared uncomprehendingly up at him.
 
; “Teren? Do you understand me?”
Nolan watched her blink owlishly, as if those words had to go through a layer of gauze before they reached her barely functioning mind. He stroked her damp, cool fingers, which lay across her blanketed stomach. Touch was so healing and powerful. Nolan watched as she gradually focused on his hand against her cheek, warm and callused, giving her something to orient herself by.
Joy surged through him as he saw her huge black pupils begin to enlarge. Before, they had been small and pinpointed, indicating the drug in her system. Now they were opening—a good sign. There was a small lamp on in the room, nothing bright that might blind her or make her squint. As he removed his hand, he saw Teren’s eyes change, as if she missed his contact with her.
Hope surged through him as he watched her fighting the drug, trying to reach more awareness. After about fifteen minutes, her gaze finally settled on his face. Teren looked at him, and Nolan’s joy tripled. He knew she recognized him this time. Reaching out, he pushed a few strands of hair away from her brow. “Welcome back, sweetheart…”
Tears stung his eyes as he saw just a hint of one corner of her mouth curve upward in response. For the first time, Teren’s fingers wrapped weakly around his. Swallowing several times, Nolan felt tears rolling down his cheeks. How he loved Teren with every fiber of his being! She was the woman he wanted to marry. To carry his children. To grow old together with. All future dreams, he knew. But now they would have a chance to work in that direction together. He had such an incredible vision for them and wanted so much to speak about what lay like a dream within him.
“Nolan…you came…” Her voice was husky, cracking with emotion.
“You knew I would,” he rasped, tenderly kissing her lips. “You’re not leaving my side anymore, Teren,” he told her as he eased away, holding her clouded gaze. His heart soared as her tentative smile strengthened. Already, he could feel her fingers getting stronger, too. Finally, that drug was being washed out of her system.