Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (35 page)

“Not yet, Doc.”

Thank God she hadn’t been hurt, but then where the fuck was she and what was happening to her? Soon they had hiked back to the SUV. With a white-knuckled Damián driving, Marc watched Adam program coordinates from a smartphone before tossing it out the window. “They’re in Yucca Valley. We’ll stop outside Rimrock and change into our desert digitals.”

Marc remembered receiving some of his combat training at Twentynine Palms. The area was desolate. Isolated. He hoped the coordinates would take them right to her. If not, they might never find her in that godforsaken place.

Adam reached out, squeezed Damián’s shoulder to gain his attention, and repeated the plan. Damián acknowledged him this time. He might be too distracted to be driving, but Adam would make sure he stayed focused.

Marc decided to get some shuteye before taking his turn behind the wheel again. He needed to be as sharp as possible when they arrived on scene, because there was no telling what kind of trouble they were walking into. At the very least, he’d have Savi to patch up, but all of them would be targets when they went in to rescue her. He couldn’t let his buddies down again. Why hadn’t he kept up his rifleman skills or at least trained with a sidearm? Not to mention his medical training. His medical knowledge was basic, just what he needed to meet federal and state standards for SAR professionals.

Within minutes of arriving at their staging site on the backside of Bear Mountain, the four reconnoitered the perimeter and had subdued the only visible guards. His recon training with the Corps came back in an instant. Thirty minutes later, Marc and Grant listened as Damián spelled out the next phase of the mission. Marc would cover the front entrance, Grant the road away from the isolated cabin. Adam and Damián would enter the cabin first to locate Savi.

Dio,
don’t let them be too late.

When the four of them split up, Marc followed instructions and waited for the agreed-upon signal before he moved closer to the cabin.

The signal came soon after, indicating Damián and Adam had gotten inside. Marc low-crawled to within a hundred feet of the front of the cabin to await further instructions. The perimeter security at this place had been surprisingly light. Marc prayed they didn’t walk into a can of worms inside the cabin.

A woman’s high-pitched scream rent the desert air.
Merda.
Savi was being hurt. Marc’s heart drummed loudly, and he itched to move closer to the front door but had his orders not to enter until he received the signal. It wouldn’t help if he was shot or wounded himself. Still, he struggled with his impatience to get to her and begin assessing her condition so he could provide her with some much-needed relief from the pain. If only—

The report of a sidearm popped.
Dio,
don’t let it be his friends. The long seconds of waiting for the go-ahead to enter stretched out like an eternity, but he was ready to charge in when Adam finally sent him the all-clear signal.

Marc kicked the flimsy door in and made his way to the voices and moans he heard at the back of the rustic structure. He followed the sound of voices and entered an open doorway to find Adam and Damián removing the restraints from Savi, who lay bloodied and draped over an ottoman. Her back, ass, and legs had been torn to shreds with a whip. His gaze strayed to the floor where a riveted flogger lay, blood dripping from the points.
Gesù
. Marc’s anger boiled to the surface when a movement out of the corner of his eye diverted his attention to where an old man raised a small weapon in the direction of his friends. Marc drew his own sidearm and took aim at the man’s chest.

The sound of the shot split the air, and the small pistol flew from the man’s hand.
Shit.
He’d missed the bastard by a long shot, but at least the man didn’t have a weapon any longer. Marc hurried across the room to retrieve the weapon and placed it in his medical gear. Might need it as evidence later on.

Damián complimented him on his marksmanship, but Marc hated that he hadn’t taken the
bastardo
down when he’d had the chance.

“Out of practice. I was aiming for his chest.”

Moments later, Marc tuned out the old man whining about his superficial injury as Adam hauled the bastard’s sorry ass out of the room. Returning his focus to Savi’s wounds, he tried to distance his emotions from the scene the way he’d been able to in Fallujah.

Epic fail.

His chest tightened, and he felt as if his own skin had been laid bare by the riveted flogger. In Fallujah, he’d been able to shut down his emotions without a problem. Just do his job. Even when he’d failed to save Sergeant Miller, he had never let emotions get in the way of focusing on helping someone else who needed his skills.

The Marines hadn’t trained him to shut down his emotions. They’d just helped refine the mechanism he’d had in place all his life.

Savi’s screams earlier had torn through him like an ice axe through his heart.

Focus. Don’t lose your focus.

Not that he was having any success with shutting down his emotions now. Whether he’d just been out of combat too long or he’d never had to deal with wounds on a defenseless woman’s fragile body before, seeing the loose, bloodied flesh in slashes across Savi’s back made him want to beat the shit out of the man who had done this to her.

Get a grip. You have a job to do.

Savi didn’t move as he worked on her back. Was she conscious? Her eyes were closed. Being unconscious would make it easier on her, but he needed to gauge whether she’d gone shocky.

Marc began removing supplies from the bag. “Savi, can you hear me?”

She nodded but kept her eyes shut. Marc took her blood pressure and checked her pupils and respirations. He turned to Damián. “She’s not in shock.” Not clinically, anyway, but her rapid pulse told him she was in emotional shock. Who wouldn’t be? He needed to help control her pain so he could work on her, which no doubt would cause even more pain at first. He turned to her once more. “
Cara
, tell me the truth this time. Any allergies to pain meds?”

Savi shook her head. “No.”

“Fentanyl?”

“None.”

“How much do you weigh?”

“Getting closer to one-ten with how much Damián makes me eat.”

Marc filled the syringe and injected the powerful narcotic into Savi’s hip. Unable to wait for the medication to fully take effect, he poured the sterile saline over the gashes and welts from her back to the backs of her thighs. Savi hissed as the water made contact with the deeper cuts. Even though she hadn’t lost a lot of blood, he knew the solution would help clean the cuts without causing further damage to her body. He wet a four-by-four with more saline and tried to clean the more superficial wounds while he waited for her to surrender to the medication.

She hissed at the touch of the gauze against her raw skin and tensed, fighting against the pain.

Damián stroked her cheek and tried to soothe her. “You’re safe.”

Marc applied the antibiotic cream to the less serious cuts and bandaged the two deepest ones. Savi hissed again at the contact against her ravaged skin, twisting Marc’s gut. He didn’t want to cause her any more pain, but the threat of infection in this hellhole was too great to delay.

“Sorry,
cara
. Almost done.”

Savi nodded. He was glad she’d remained conscious, so he could be sure she hadn’t slipped into shock.

Damián continued to talk to her, stroking the back of her head. “Don’t fight it anymore. Go to your safe place now.”

A sob tore from her. “I tried not to scream, but I couldn’t hold it back in the end.”

Marc couldn’t imagine what had gone through Damián’s head when he’d heard her, though her screams had led them to her faster.

Savi’s body slumped. Good. The meds were working. Marc checked her pulse again. Strong. He heard what sounded like the SUV pull up outside.

Marc put some of the supplies back in the bag. They were moving to Plan B. “Damián, we’re going to need to call for air transport. Savi’s not going to be able to stand the SUV ride on those rugged back roads.”

“Savannah. Her name is Savannah.”

Marc nodded and patted Savi—Savannah—on the calf, trying to avoid her injuries and bandages. He radioed Grant to place the call to Palm Springs. The sooner she was at the trauma center, the better it would be. Marc could only do so much in the field, much like when he’d patched up his Marines in Iraq, just enough to get them to the next facility down the line. The civilian EMTs might not assess this as warranting air transport, but he knew Grant would make sure someone responded, even if she had to call in someone from nearby Twentynine Stumps, as he and his Marines called the desolate place. Savannah might not be one of his tough Marines, but she’d certainly gone through more than even some of them had.

Without warning, Savannah began flailing her arms, struggling to get off the ottoman. She wasn’t letting the meds do their job. Still had too much fight in her. Damián placed his hand on the back of her head. “No,
bebé
. Lie still. Do not move.”

Once more she sank down, limp.

Marc continued to assess the damage and applied ointment to the cuts on her back. When he reached for more four-by-fours, the sharp pain in his chest made him wince and reminded him to be careful how he moved. The tendons were sore still from the accident on Lodgepole Falls the other day.

“What’s wrong? You injured, too?” Never could get anything past Adam.

“Had a little accident before we came to California. It’s nothing.”

“Aw, fuck.” Adam patted Marc’s arm and pointed to Damián’s bloodied pants leg.
Merda.
Adam went around the ottoman and knelt beside Damián, tugging the pant leg out of his boot. “You stay still, too, son. We need to pack this wound.” Damián’s calf above the prosthesis had a bloody hole in it.

“Fuck, son.”

Marc grabbed the medical bag and joined Adam. Damián tried to wave him away. “I’m fine, Doc. You need to work on Savannah.”

“She’s stable. I want to give that ointment a chance to work before I put bandages on the rest of the cuts.”

Savannah gasped. “Damián, you’ve been shot!”

“Just a flesh wound.”

She tried to rise up off the ottoman. “You’re bleeding. Oh, God! What have I done to you?”

Damián opened his mouth before his head began to sway as his eyes rolled into his head. Worried he’d pass out, Marc reached for him, but Damián fought his way back, staring up at Adam. “I am not leaving here until justice is done. Go back, and keep an eye on him.”

Both of the men behind Savannah’s abduction had been caught, and Marc couldn’t imagine either getting away without severe repercussions. Their accomplices and the guards were immobilized. Still, Adam assured Damián that Grant had Savannah’s father under control. He wouldn’t be going anywhere but jail.

“Damián!” Once again, Savannah fought to get closer to him.

As Damián pushed her down and admonished her to be still, Adam ordered both of them to stand down. Savannah complied first, lowering her chest to the ottoman but keeping Damián’s face within her line of sight. Damián slumped onto the floor face up. He gasped for breath, which worried Marc. Damián closed his eyes, but they shot open again a moment later when Marc poured the sterile saline over his calf. Damián gritted his teeth. “How bad, Doc?”

He’d asked something very similar when Marc had treated his wounds in Fallujah. At least this time he didn’t have to gloss over the truth or hide anything.

“Through-and-through wound, fleshy part of your calf.” Marc injected the skin around the entry wound to numb it. “Blood loss is minimal. I don’t think you’ll have any long-term problems. We’ll fly you to the trauma center with Savannah.”

Damián reached out and grabbed Doc’s arm. “
My
mission…isn’t…over.”

Adam squeezed Damián’s shoulder. “Son, this mission just changed. It’s over.”

Marc watched Damián glare at Adam, unwilling to back down in spite of his injury. “Not leaving…until I’ve finished…what I came…to do.”

Adam growled and looked ready to head slap Damián, but instead he backed off and looked at Marc. “Can you do something to counter the reaction to the blood loss?”

“I can hook up an IV and do a quick infusion of Ringer’s; it’s a temporary blood replacement.”

“Plain English.”

Marc grinned. “Yeah, I can help.”

“Do it, Doc.”

Marc went to work as Adam tried to find out what Damián’s mission entailed.

“This is between me and the motherfucker who hurt my girl.”

Adam got in Damián’s face in true Master Sergeant fashion. “You aren’t completing this mission. Not without me, anyway.”

Marc heard the whoop-whoop of the chopper blades. Time to get these two the medical attention they needed. He hoped he’d bought Damián some time before the man passed out so that he could get whatever satisfaction he deemed more important than his own health.

Damián grabbed Adam’s sleeve. “Get me out of here before they come in. They’ll have to report a gunshot wound, and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve taken care of business.” After he kissed Savannah and assured her he’d see her soon, Adam and Marc carried him to the room where Savannah’s father was bound and gagged. Then Marc headed back to meet the EMTs from the flight crew.

The medical crew rushed into the room moments later. Grant must have assured them the scene was secure. Marc shared his assessment of her condition but watched as they confirmed it by performing many of the same actions. He admired them for not letting their emotions get in the way and hoped he hadn’t done anything to jeopardize Savannah’s recovery.

Watching them load and take off, he wondered what it would be like to be an EMT. He’d never wanted to be cooped up in a hospital setting, but these guys—and women—experienced things much as he had as a Navy Corpsman. He’d never felt more fulfilled than when he’d been with his Marines. Maybe he’d look into what it would take to train to be an EMT when he got his life back on track.

After they’d left, Adam had ordered Grant to report to Karla and Angelina that all was under control and to book flights to California. Marc felt at loose ends. Grant told him they’d also been ordered out of here, so they set out for Palm Springs where they’d keep watch over Savannah until Damián and Adam finished whatever it was they needed to do.