Before she could rise, Max reached out and snagged her wrist. “Hey,” he said gruffly, “Thanks.”
Max rested his upper torso and head back to the ground, looking exhausted. Her chest got tight and she said, “You’re welcome.”
She got up and searched the brush until she found four sturdy branches, which she brought back to where Max lay. Using her climbing rope, she tied the shorter branches to the longer ones to make a crude frame, then threaded it through to make a crude “mattress” to support Max as comfortably as possible. She laid her sleeping bag over the frame and ropes.
“You’re making a litter? Doc, that’s a lot of weight to pull.”
“I know, but we don’t have any choice. It’s our only alternative. You can’t walk.”
“I can damn well try.” He struggled to sit up and she quickly knelt down to stop him.
Max, you’ll injure yourself worse than you already are. Don’t be stubborn.”
She got him settled onto the litter and he laid back with a disgruntled look on his face. Satisfied, she picked up the litter poles and started to pull him. The way was hard as hell with so much debris on the jungle floor and obstacles to go around. But there was no alternative. He would die if she didn’t keep going.
She had to keep moving.
Each day rolled into the next, and she worried that she wouldn’t get Max to medical attention fast enough to save him. Sweat poured off her, her legs burned, and her chest ached from her heavy breathing as she hauled the gear and Max. On the third day, she stopped and set him down to give her blistering palms some relief. Pulling out water, she drank thirstily, poured some for the limping dog, and handed the rest to Max. He looked pale, his features tight with pain. Regardless of her patching him up, he wasn’t going to last long with that bullet still in him. He could succumb to sepsis. It wasn’t an if, either. He would get an infection.
“I’m sorry this is so rough, but I think we’re near a road. It should be easier going.” She wiped at her brow and sank down to the ground to rest.
The chatter of indistinct male voices sounded from the road, and they both froze.
3
“Anna, what are you doing here?” Dodger’s hoarse voice showing his stress at seeing her. He had planned to stay away from Max’s family because Max got too agitated, and it messed with their brotherhood and team cohesiveness, which was often precarious. He felt like crap whenever he ignored calls from Gina, Rhonda, or their mom.
“It’s good to see you, too, Oliver.” Her tone was frosty. “I need to speak with Fast Lane.”
“2-Stroke. Go get Fast Lane, but be discreet about it.” He didn’t know what to say about Max. SEALs were supposed to be prepared for all contingencies, but Anna was one hell of a wild card. Max had been missing for almost twenty-four hours. He could be injured or worse. He shook off that thought. He wasn’t going to think about his teammate out there alone and dying. An urgency gripped him by the throat, and he wanted to punch something. They would get this sorted out and go after Max. Why the hell was Anna here?
“Copy that.” 2-Stroke took off at a run and disappeared into the building.
She made a soft, irritated noise and sent her hands into her hair, ruffling it into a tousled silky mess around her face. The mass framed her exquisite features and added to her exotic look. Her complexion was smooth and creamy, and she possessed the kind of lush lips that inspired all kinds of provocative, X-rated fantasies. When he met her gaze, her smokey silver eyes gleamed impudently, triggering him into remembering that he had many questions.
“I didn’t expect you to be here while we’re on an op. Did Max—”
She stiffened, pinning him with gray eyes as cold as a dark winter sky. He felt the chill to the bone. Anna was pissed at him for refusing to engage with her at the wedding. He’d slipped out on the sly, dodging like he usually did when faced with an untenable position. Better to bail.
“Max would never reveal his location to me, and I wouldn’t ask. I know it’s classified.”
“Then how—”
“I understand you have questions, but I was instructed to talk only to Lieutenant Nixon,” she snapped. He knew that Keegan look. It mimicked Max’s, and there was no prying any information out of her.
Fast Lane came out of the building. He stopped in front of Anna. “What’s going on here, Ms. Keegan?”
“Who are you?” the pencil neck from the Paraguayan government demanded, barreling up to them.
“Watch out, mate,” Dodger said, shoving his hand against the guy’s chest and making him take a couple of steps back. He told himself he was just protecting his teammate’s sister, nothing else. He had no feelings one way or the other about Max’s sister. That was his story and he was sticking to it.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m Anna Keegan. My brother is Max Keegan, and I’m looking for him. My mother’s ill, and he needs to get home.” Her eyes teared up, but the guy was such a wanker. He didn’t even look contrite.
“Identification, por favor, señorita?”
She pulled out her passport and handed it to him. He looked it over.
“You’ve been in the country for a week?”
“Yes, I work for National Geographic, and we’re doing a large spread on Iguaçu Falls.”
“You have National Geographic identification then?” He looked at her with open skepticism, his eyes narrowed.
She pulled that out and offered him the badge. “What are you doing to find my brother?”
Dodger looked over the guy’s shoulder. The ID badge looked legit, so her credentials supported her story, the camera also adding credence to her explanation. He gave Fast Lane a slight nod and his LT looked as skeptical as the pencil neck. Finding Max on a black op was about as easy as finding a needle in the proverbial haystack. If Max hadn’t told her exactly where he’d be, there was no way she could have known. Unless…
He handed the documents back to her, lifting his hands and trying to look apologetic and failing miserably. “We’re working on it.”
“Right, got it,” she said, her tone as skeptical as his look had been moments ago.
Something was up, and Dodger’s dodging senses were tingling. His motto was you were only in trouble if you got caught. He made sure he never got caught.
Clearly, Anna was spinning a woven tale for this guy’s benefit. He lifted his gaze to hers, and Dodger experienced a remembered feeling that only made him wary, as if he was looking into the face of his ideal match. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his gut churned. Nope. Not happening. Even if she hadn’t been Max’s sister and he wouldn’t be committing team suicide, he would go running in the other direction. He remembered all too well Pitbull’s confession to them and the feeling of betrayal he’d experienced when he’d found out Pitbull had been intimate with Myerson’s wife and fathered a child. It was during the couple’s separation in preparation for divorce, but it had still been a violation of trust.
After Hermione, he couldn’t see himself ever giving his heart to anyone like that ever again. Losing her had shown him there was a dark side inside him that he never wanted to give free rein. He was happy where he was, loved being a SEAL and part of this team. Never did he want to spiral like he had after he’d lost Hermione. She’d cut out his heart and left it in pieces somewhere between that dark place and now.