Dodger let out a hard breath. “I’m bullheaded, and I can be a right pain in the arse, but you can be certain that I will follow orders, LT.”
Two days later, Dodger had to swallow his anger and resentment as he stood outside the Hotel Rosa. He had to give it to the CIA. They had pulled off a slick switcheroo when the seven of them swapped places with US volleyball players on their way back to the US. When the plane had taken off, courtesy of the Air Force, Dodger and the team were in a van already heading back to the city.
Dodger was talking to one of his friends—he had them all over the world—getting transportation and equipment. His friend, a native Paraguayan stood with him across the street from the hotel.
“Hey, Dodger?”
He turned at the sound of the masculine voice to see Hemingway’s BUD/S roommate, Milo “Professor” Prescott.
When Anna had gotten to the hotel, she’d had an update for them. They were getting another Team Seven member.
“Hey, Professor. I heard you were joining us for this fun jaunt into the jungle.”
Professor smiled and they shook hands. “Always glad to help. Adrian sends his regards.”
Professor’s LT was also a BUD/S graduate from Hemingway’s class. Adrian “Rock” Lane.
“This is Pablo Gutierrez, a friend of mine,” Dodger said.
“He saved my damn life,” Pablo said, and Dodger clapped his shoulder and shook his head.
“Right. The save that shall not be named. Sorry.”
Professor smiled, his brow lifting in a quizzical manner, but he didn’t press for the details.
“Okay, are we—”
He was interrupted when dogs started barking…everywhere. Then there was a terrible grinding roar as fruits and vegetables spilled from the market carts. Wind chimes tinkled violently as roof tiles hit the pavement and shattered just to the left of where they were standing. The concrete beneath his feet started to shake hard, the ground waving beneath his feet.
“Get to the middle of the street!” Pablo yelled. “Earthquake!”
They all moved as one.
The sound of breaking glass and another horrible roar like trash being dumped from a tall height sounded behind him as he lost his balance and fell to his knees in the street. People were clutching each other, screaming, crying, and yelling as the shaking intensified, then subsided.
His heart pounding, he turned his head to look over his shoulder. The entrance to the Hotel Rosa was full of rubble and the structure partially collapsed with Anna and his teammates inside.
Renata only had to make a very small incision just above the lodged bullet to remove it. She then stitched up the small cut and dressed it. With the help of the digital X-ray, she used forceps to extricate the foreign substance, which turned out to be material from his clothing. Once she was sure she had gotten everything, she rinsed the wound with an antibiotic flush. Leaving the bullet hole open so it could drain, she reached for a bandage when all of a sudden, Jugs darted toward them. Then the floor beneath their feet started to shake and roll, dust and debris falling from the ceiling.
She threw herself over Max’s body to protect his wound and to make sure he didn’t roll from the table during the violent shaking.
“It’s an earthquake,” Carolina called above the rumble. Jugs crouched, ready to tackle this terrible threat to his partner, barking at the disturbance. “Don’t worry. My husband built all our structures to withstand earthquakes. He was very adamant about it.”
Her heart hammering, Renata, with Carolina’s help, managed to hold Max onto the table braced with their bodies.
Once the shaking subsided, Renata finished bandaging him up. By the time they had gotten him wrapped in a clean sheet and back into the sleeping bag and onto his litter, they had endured several aftershocks. Renata was running on empty.
“I can take it,” Carolina said, grabbing Renata’s hands and frowning. “When we get him settled, let’s see to your hands, get you something to eat and drink. You need rest.”
“You are so very kind,” Renata said. “I’m starving. Do you have something we can feed his dog? This is Juggernaut, by the way. Jugs for short.”
He looked up at them.
“I have just the thing. Luckily, I have a neighbor with a dog and can get some food from him to tide us over for a bit. But first things first. He needs a bath and attention too.” She looked down at Juggernaut. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Carolina bent down and removed his tactical vest and set it on the empty table. Walking over to a big basin, she turned on the water and checked to make sure it was the right temperature. When she was satisfied, she turned to them and said, “Jugs, come here boy.”
He padded over to the basin, and with a spring off his back legs, leapt right into the water. She steadied him and started to wash him. He made a contented noise and Renata smiled.
She crouched down to Max and checked his vitals, breathing a sigh of relief. They were still stable, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. She had to eradicate that infection and then get him well. Unable to help herself, she smoothed her hand over his hot forehead, still unhappy about the fever, but she understood it meant he was fighting the infection.
It was as if the last three days of trauma caught up to her. She lowered to her butt and leaned back against the table for support. She’d done what needed to be done and found that she still disliked medicine. She was thankful Juggernaut had stolen her backpack. Without her help, Max would have died out there in the jungle. She didn’t want to think about all that vitality and power extinguished. Her eyes filled and she brushed the tears away impatiently. What the hell? She never cried, not even when she’d made the life-alternating decision to abandon medicine and break her dad’s heart. It was just the stress of the situation.
Renata had her emotions under control when Carolina lifted Juggernaut out of the basin, laughing as he shook and doused her with the water. She covered him with a towel and rubbed him dry.
“You are such a pretty boy,” she murmured checking his eyes and muzzle all the way down his body. “You did a great job of closing his gash.” She turned to look at Renata. “He’s a military dog, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but please don’t ask questions about Max and why they’re here.”
“I know what it’s like to shelter an American soldier,” she said softly. “So, we don’t need particulars. You can depend on me to keep quiet.”
Renata smiled. “I don’t even know how I can thank you for what you’ve done.”
“I’m a firm believer in giving aid where it’s needed. Let’s get your man into the house.” Together they picked up the litter and dragged Max to the house. They entered through a garage onto a gorgeous cobblestone courtyard with exotic flowering plants. The woman wasn’t only a top-notch vet, but a kick-ass gardener as well.
The house was a sprawling hacienda style home with low buildings located around the central courtyard with open patios.
“My dad had his own living space before he passed. There’s a bedroom, bathroom, and great room. I think you’ll be comfortable there.” They passed a round, stone fountain in subtle organic tones with a wide bowl on the bottom and an embellished finial on top where the water cascaded from small spouts inset into carved cut-outs. The edges of the finial and bowl were decorated with alternating triangles. The sound of the running water lent a peaceful, serene tone to the area. Beyond the courtyard straight ahead was a swimming pool with a concrete deck, the water a gorgeous turquoise.