Page 50 of Her Faithful Protector

“It’s okay, honey,” Nic crooned in Spanish to the thrashing girl. “You won’t be hurt.” He looked up at Leo who had the baby in his arms. “Tell her, Leo.”

Leo crouched down and started talking to the girl in rapid Spanish. She responded, then he got up and flung back the sheet that separated the back of the little house from the front. Nic cursed to himself when he saw the dead woman lying on the bed.

The little girl looked at her mother and started sobbing.

“I’ve got one,” Kane said, “and the rest of the houses are clear.”

“We need a village woman over in this house, now,” Nic said into his mic. “Can you help us out?”

He waited as he attempted to soothe the little girl in his arms.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay,” he said as he stroked her hair. She just sobbed louder. Who in the hell could blame her? Her dad and mom were both dead. In her mind, her world had ended.

Nic turned when a haggard woman rushed forward and started speaking calmly in Spanish. She rushed Leo, trying to take the baby out of his arms. Leo and the woman seemed to be arguing, then she turned to Nic and she fell to her knees in front of him.

“Give her to me,” she said slowly enough in Spanish for Nic to understand.

He released the little girl into the waiting woman’s arms. The little girl fell against the woman and sobbed.

15

“We need to get the hell out of here now,” a man in a military uniform said to the group. He was wearing camouflage paint all over his face.

Camilla looked up at him from where she was kneeling on the floor. She was hazy with pain, still trying to grasp the fact that they might just get out of this alive.

“Raiden, start moving them out, I haven’t got this disarmed yet,” the man named Asher yelled from the front of the church.

“We’re going out the front doors. Raise your hand if you need help walking,” the first military man said.

Camilla snorted. Hell, even raising her left hand at this point was going to be almost impossible, but she’d try.

“I’ve got you, Doctor Ross,” Travis knelt down beside her.

“If you can help, pair up with anyone who has their hand raised. If you can’t help, just haul your ass out the front door.” As Camilla peeked around Travis she saw the man gently pick up Lisa.

“I can carry you too, Doctor,” Travis said to her.

“I can walk. I don’t want to slow you down. That way you can come back and help others,” Camilla said as he helped her to her feet. The cloth fell away. Of course, it did, but she was past the point of caring. All she cared about was everybody getting out of here alive.

The first step she took with Travis’ help hurt like hell. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as fast as she could—anything to get out of the church so that Travis could go back inside and help others.

“Thanks, man,” Travis said to Brian who was holding the church door open. He helped her down the steps.

Ahead of them, a man yelled, “Get as far as the satellite truck.” She looked up and saw that it was Raiden, who was setting Lisa down so she could rest against the wheel of the truck. Paul and Jan had stopped at the bottom of the stairs but now they started to move again. She didn’t see any of the other students.

“Where are the others?” she asked Travis as Raiden ran past them to go back into the church.

“Don’t worry, they’re coming.” He positioned Camilla down next to Lisa and handed her the cloth he’d been holding. “I’ve got to go.” Camilla watched as he ran back into the church, passing Jan and Paul. And Wendy, who was hobbling down the steps under her own steam.

She heard something off to the side, like running footsteps, and her gut clenched. She wanted to sob; here she’d thought they were safe, but now more men were coming to get them.

In the weak light of morning, she stared in horror as she counted at least five men running toward them. Wait, were there more? Six? Seven?

She tried to make herself smaller when she saw two of them break off from the pack and run straight at her and Lisa. Oh God, just when I thought we were safe.

One of them skidded to a halt in front of her, the other one bent over Lisa. She reared back at the terrifying sight he made, his face covered with smears of black paint. “Ma’am, are you all right? Where are you injured? My name is Cullen Lyons with the US Navy, we’re here to help you.” Finally, she understood he was wearing some sort of disguise. He was a good guy. He was an American.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.