the door. Bits of cement crumbled to the stone floor, indications that the hinges would soon give away.
Her stiff fingers cramped around the pistol. Well-aimed shots to the center torso were the only thing that might save her now.
All at once the door lurched. With a loud groan it twisted inward, providing the intruders just enough space to wedge their way inside.
The dust cleared; still, she waited, guarding her precious bullets. This is it, she thought, praying for a speedy death—no more agonizing torture.
As a shoulder edged into the room, accompanied by a quick peek, she pulled the trigger. Her sluggish brain was still processing the pattern of the intruder’s camouflage when her bullet whizzed by him and ricocheted off the opposite wall.
“Lucy!” exclaimed the voice she’d heard so often in her dreams this past week she was certain she’d imagined it. “It’s us! For Christ’s sake, don’t shoot!”
“Gus!” she croaked. The pistol clattered to the stone floor as the strength drained out of her. He spun around the door in time to catch her wilting body.
“I’ve got you, Luce,” he rasped, crushing her against him as they sank to their knees. Delicious heat leapt off him. His familiar scent enfolded her. Lucy tried to climb inside of him, so wildly relieved it was all she could do not to burst into sobs. “I’ve got you,” he repeated as she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed, just breathed.
Hot tears seeped through her lashes to track her filthy cheeks. She was vaguely aware that four more SEALs had stepped inside the cave, calling words of reassurance to Maria, who crept from her hiding place. Opening her eyes, she took in the painted faces of her saviors—Luther, Harley, Vinny, Teddy, and Gus, her one and only partner. “I thought you were the rebels,” she admitted hoarsely.
“They’re right behind us,” Gus informed her.
His words sent a shaft of fear through her heart. “But how? I just sent out a mayday.”
“They’ve been tracking us all day,” he explained, “since we captured and questioned Buitre this morning. He’s dead, by the way.”
She let the announcement sink into her consciousness, a balm to her fears. “Good,” she said, quelling painful memories that threatened to unfocus her. “But how did you know I’d be here?”
“We got to Arriba right after you escaped. How’d you manage that?” he asked with amazement.
“It was a total fluke,” she admitted wryly. “The lock around my neck fell open.”
Horror flickered in Gus’s eyes as they fell to her chafed neck. “And then what?”
“Then I shot the first guard paying his hourly visit. I tossed his keys at the other captives, who took out the second guard.” And in hindsight, she could scarcely believe her own temerity.
“We heard the other captives heading downhill in the dark,” said Gus, “but I knew you had more sense than to go with them. I knew you’d remember the E & E extraction point.”
“I hate to break off the reunion,” Luther interrupted gently, “but we’ve got a helo extract to prepare for.”
Lucy’s relief mounted. She wouldn’t have to wait on pins and needles now for her mayday to be processed. She’d be flying out of here in a matter of minutes.
“Vinny, find out our helicopters’ ETA,” rapped out the OIC. “Tell them I want a read on the number of hostiles closing in.”
The reminder of a lingering threat put a damper on Lucy’s euphoria.
“Harley and Teddy, set up a perimeter outside,” Luther added.
“Have some water,” murmured Gus. Ignoring his leader’s urgency, he pressed a canteen of reviving water to her lips. “How do you feel? How’s the hip?”
“It’s healing. I had a raging fever from the filthy knife they used, but I survived.”
“My brave girl,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with a gloved hand. His eyes glimmered wetly as he gazed down at her. “I’m so sorry for what happened, Luce,” he added hoarsely.
“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted. “You couldn’t have known Buitre would dump you in the river. God, Gus, I don’t know how you survived that, but I knew you would,” she added, clutching him harder.
“We went after you that night,” he told her quickly, “but we were too late. They’d already removed the microchip and used it to lure us away from you.”
Lucy cringed at the memory of her torture.
“How’s your hip now?” he pressed. “How badly did they hurt you, Luce?”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “They didn’t break me, Gus. If anything, they taught me how much I want to live.”
At her