Chapter 9

9

brYAN

B ryan’s boots slid on loose dirt as they tore through the jungle, the sound of shouts and gunfire echoing behind them. The humid air clung to his skin, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He glanced back, checking on Sara. Somehow, she was managing to keep up. Despite the strain on her body, she moved with fluid precision, the weight of her injuries seeming to evaporate under the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

“They’re gaining!” Sara hissed, ducking under a low-hanging branch.

Bryan tightened his grip on the strap of his medical bag, his jaw clenching. “We need to lose them.”

“We’re running out of jungle,” Sara replied, her tone grim.

Ahead, the dense foliage gave way to open air. Bryan’s stomach sank as they emerged onto a rocky outcrop. The jagged edge of a cliff dropped into a river far below, its waters gleaming faintly in the moonlight. The sound of rushing water filled the air, drowning out the distant shouts of their pursuers.

“No way down,” Bryan said, scanning the sheer cliff face.

“Not without a parachute,” Sara muttered, her eyes darting back toward the trees. The cartel men would burst through any second.

Bryan’s mind raced, calculating their options. “We need another plan.”

Sara exhaled sharply, her gaze locked on the dark compound below them. “The boats. Back at the docks.”

Bryan’s eyes narrowed. “Boats?”

“There’s a small fleet,” she said, her voice low but urgent. “We can use one of their boats to get out. Then we destroy the others—cripple their physical operations as well.”

Bryan’s chest tightened. “You want to go back into the compound?”

“It’s the only way,” Sara said, meeting his gaze.

“Are you crazy?”

“Probably, but what other choice do we have?”

Bryan nodded grimly.

“I slipped some explosives into your medical bag…” Sara continued.

Bryan shot her a sharp glance.

“It never hurts to have a little C-4 with you,” she explained calmly as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world. “We get in, lay the explosives, and take one of the boats to safety. We take out the dock and their transport in one move.”

Bryan swallowed hard, the riskiness of her plan settling over him. It was insane, but she was right, it was their best shot. And if Sara was willing to do it, so was he.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady. “But we wait for cover of darkness.”

They found a hiding place to wait it out, listening each time their pursuers passed close by and breathing easier when they did. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it seemed the cartel’s men had called off their search.

Bryan crouched low, his focus on the task at hand absolute. The jungle was alive with the sounds of night when they moved from their hiding place.

“This is crazy,” he murmured, glancing up at Sara.

She was watching the compound through a pair of binoculars, her features illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. “I know, but it’s kind of fun, right?”

He shook his head. “Not really. We’re going to have a long talk about your definition of fun,” Bryan said, his tone firm.

Sara lowered the binoculars, her gaze softening as it met his. “I know. I just… This is dangerous. Even for us.”

Bryan reached out, his hand brushing hers briefly. “We’ve made it this far. We’ll make it out.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smile. “You better be right.”

The compound was a hive of activity, guards patrolling the perimeter with flashlights cutting through the darkness. Bryan followed Sara’s lead, his movements silent and deliberate as they slipped through the shadows. His heart pounded in his chest, each step a calculated risk.

They reached the dock, the faint sound of water lapping against the boats blending with the distant hum of conversation. A single guard stood near the closest boat, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder.

“I’ll take him out, quietly,” Bryan whispered, his voice barely audible. “You cover me.”

Sara nodded, her body ready to move as she maneuvered into position.

Bryan crept forward, his breath steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He approached the guard from behind, his arms wrapping around the man’s neck in a precise sleeper hold. The guard struggled briefly, his movements weakening as Bryan applied steady pressure. Within seconds, the man went limp, and Bryan lowered him gently to the ground.

Sara appeared beside him, gesturing for Bryan to move the body out of sight. He complied, dragging the unconscious man into the shadows before returning to her side.

“Nice work,” Sara murmured, her lips curving into a faint smile.

Bryan raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think I had it in me?”

“I’ve seen you work under pressure,” she replied, her tone teasing. “But this is a new side of you.”

“Stick around,” Bryan said, his voice low and laced with heat. “You might see more.”

Sara’s smile deepened, but she quickly refocused. “Let’s move.”

Bryan worked quickly, his fingers finding the explosives in his medical bag and placing them with care. Sara kept watch, her sharp gaze scanning the area for any sign of movement. The tension between them was palpable, a thread stretched taut by the danger of their mission and the unspoken emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“Done,” Bryan whispered, closing the bag. “Let’s get to the boat.”

They moved as one, their steps silent as they approached the remaining vessel. Bryan climbed in first, his hands steady on the controls as he prepared to start the engine. Sara joined him, her rifle at the ready as she scanned the dock.

The hum of voices grew louder, followed by the beam of a flashlight cutting through the darkness.

“They’re coming,” Sara murmured, her voice tight.

Bryan’s fingers hovered over the ignition switch, his jaw clenched. “Hold on.”

The engine roared to life, shattering the stillness of the night. The guards who reached the dock shouted, their rifles raising as they fired blindly into the darkness. Bryan pushed the throttle forward, the boat lurching away from the dock as bullets splintered the wood around them.

“Bryan, now!” Sara shouted, her hand gripping the detonator.

Bryan nodded, his focus split between steering the boat and the chaos erupting behind them. “Do it.”

Sara pressed the button. The explosions were blinding, fiery blasts that blew as one and lit up the night sky. The shockwave rolled over them, the force rocking the boat as debris rained into the water. The dock erupted in a fiery blaze, the remaining boats consumed by the inferno.

Bryan glanced back at the sight of the destruction. “They’ll be on us.”

“How? We blew up their boats.”

“You don’t think they have patrols out on the water?”

Sara shook her head. “Of course. Sorry.“

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

She nodded. “Let them come. We’ve got what we need to make some huge dents in the cartel’s business, and the fact that they haven’t been able to take out one pesky doctor isn’t going to play well with their friends.”

“We make a pretty good team,” Bryan said, a grin tugging at his lips despite the danger.

“Not over yet,” Sara shot back, her tone grim.

As the boat cut through the dark waters, the glow of the burning dock fading behind them, Bryan knew the cartel wasn’t finished. But neither were they.

Ahead, two small power boats emerged from the shadows, their engines revving as they gave chase. Cartel men crouched in the boats, their rifles gleaming under the moonlight.

“Shit! There they are—patrol boats.”

Bryan’s jaw tightened. “Hang on!”

He spun the wheel hard, sending their boat into a sharp turn that sprayed water into the air. The patrol boats struggled to adjust, their smaller size making them more maneuverable but less stable in the wake of Bryan’s larger craft.

Sara crouched low, her rifle on the deck of the boat at her feet as she pulled out her pistol. “Keep them off balance. I’ll handle the rest.”

Bryan grinned, adrenaline surging through him. “You got it.”

He pushed the throttle to its limit, the boat cutting through the water with precision. The boats closed in, their occupants firing sporadically. Bullets pinged against the hull, but Bryan’s calculated turns made it difficult for them to get a clear shot.

“Bryan, turn left!” Sara shouted.

He complied without hesitation, the boat veering sharply as Sara fired. Her shot was clean, and one of the drivers slumped over, sending the boat spinning out of control before crashing into the waves.

“Nice shot,” Bryan called, his eyes flicking to her briefly.

“Focus on driving, Doc,” she replied, her tone teasing despite the danger they were in.

The second boat was faster, its driver more skilled. The cartel men onboard leaned out, their guns trained on Bryan and Sara’s boat.

“Take the wheel!” Bryan barked, letting go and moving to the stern.

Sara didn’t question him, sliding into place and gripping the wheel with steady hands. Bryan grabbed the rifle from the deck, bracing himself against the railing as he aimed.

The first shot took out the smaller boat’s engine, the spray of sparks and smoke sending the boat skidding to a halt. The second shot hit the fuel tank, and the resulting explosion sent the remaining cartel men diving into the water.

Bryan lowered the rifle, his chest heaving as the adrenaline ebbed slightly. He turned back to Sara, who was grinning. There was a part of her, he realized, that really was enjoying this.

“Not bad,” she said, her voice laced with approval.

Bryan shook his head, moving to take the wheel from her. “Not bad yourself.”

As they powered through the dark waters, the burning remnants of the dock and the destroyed patrol boats faded behind them, Bryan couldn’t help but glance at Sara. Her hair was windswept, her face flushed with exertion, but her eyes burned with determination.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice low but sincere.

She glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Doc.”

The first rays of dawn bled across the horizon, painting the sea in shades of gold and crimson. Bryan tightened his grip on the wheel of the boat, his jaw set as he navigated the still-choppy waters. The silence between him and Sara was now more companionable than charged. There was a comfort and familiarity that seemed odd given the short amount of time they’d known each other.

Sara leaned against the rail, the satellite phone pressed to her ear. Her voice was calm but clipped, the precise tone of a professional keeping emotions at bay.

“This is Gray. We’re requesting immediate extraction. I’m sending the GPS coordinates.”

“Tell them they’ll find us in that small inlet just to the southeast of those coordinates. It’ll be easier to stay out of sight.” Bryan steered the boat toward the inlet that was shielded by rocky cliffs.

“Got it.” Sara relayed the information. “Cartel assets neutralized, but they’ll regroup soon.”

The line crackled as the response came, a familiar voice carrying a tone of urgency. “Extraction team in route. ETA thirty minutes. Hold tight and stay low.”

Sara ended the call, shoving the phone back into her pocket. She turned to Bryan, her expression unreadable. “They’re on their way.”

With that, all the wind seemed to have gone out of her sails. She looked weary, the weight of her responsibilities etched into every line of her face. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, his hand brushing her arm.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

She met his gaze, and for a moment, her guard faltered. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “It’s not every day you blow up a cartel’s entire dock.”

Bryan couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Not every day you escape in a boat, either.”

Her lips curved faintly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “They’ll come after us, you know. The cartel doesn’t just let things go.”

“We’ll be ready,” Bryan said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

She looked at him then, her eyes searching his. Whatever she saw seemed to steady her, because she nodded and leaned slightly into his touch.

The distant thrum of helicopter blades broke the quiet, growing louder as the extraction team approached. Bryan brought the boat to a stop as the chopper descended onto the beach.

The downdraft from the rotors whipped through the narrow space, kicking up spray and making the air thick with salt. Bryan moved quickly, helping Sara to her feet and steadying her as she climbed onto the rocky shore.

Two operatives emerged from the chopper, their movements precise as they approached. One of them, a wiry man with sharp eyes, nodded to Bryan. “You must be Dr. Mena. And you—” He turned to Sara, his expression softening slightly. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“Something like that,” Sara replied, her voice steady but tired.

Bryan stepped closer to her, his hand resting lightly on her lower back. “She’s been through enough. Let’s get her on board.”

Sara shot him a look, her lips parting as if to argue, but the exhaustion in her eyes betrayed her. She allowed Bryan to guide her toward the chopper, the operatives falling in step behind them.

Inside, the noise of the rotors was deafening, but Bryan didn’t care. He settled Sara into a seat, fastening her harness and ensuring she was secure. She glared at him faintly but didn’t resist.

“You really are bossy,” she muttered as he tugged the strap snug.

“And you really need to rest,” Bryan shot back, his tone soft but firm.

The chopper lifted off, the ground falling away as they soared over the coastline. Bryan sat beside her, his body tense as the adrenaline of the night began to ebb. Sara leaned back in her seat, her head tipping against the side of the cabin. Bryan reached for her hand, his fingers brushing hers. She didn’t pull away.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the chopper.

Sara turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. “I’m not used to this,” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

“Used to what?”

“Not being the one in control,” she said, her tone raw. “Letting someone else… take care of me.”

They didn’t speak again until the chopper landed at a secure compound on the isle of Crete. The soft, cool breeze of the Mediterranean was a refreshing change from the heat and humidity they had endured in the jungle. The operatives led them inside, the thick walls and high fences offering a sense of safety that had been elusive for days.

Once they were alone in the elegant room assigned to them, Bryan turned to Sara. She stood near the bed, her back to him.

“Sit,” he said gently, his voice carrying the same quiet authority he’d used on countless patients.

Sara hesitated but obeyed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. Bryan knelt in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her knees.

“You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” he said, his voice low. “It’s okay to let go, Sara. Just for a little while.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked down at him, her eyes glistening. “I don’t know how.”

Bryan reached up, his hand cupping her cheek. “You let me help you. You trust me.”

For a moment, she didn’t move. Then, slowly, she leaned into his touch, her body trembling as the walls she’d built around herself began to crumble.

“I trust you,” she whispered, the words a quiet surrender.

Bryan’s chest tightened, a mixture of relief and protectiveness flooding through him. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

The moment stretched, the air between them charged with a mix of emotions—fear, trust, love, and something deeper that neither of them could name.

They’d faced hell and come out alive. Whatever came next, they’d face it together.