Chapter Seven
Cole
Cole is sipping a brandy, listening to John tell a story about a flat tire he got while coming back into the U.S. from a snatch and grab in Mexico, when Mark catches his attention. He waves him into the kitchen and follows, only to find him looking distraught.
“Keith needs to speak with you,” Mark says, handing him his radio. Cole looks at him curiously. Mark is on duty tonight, but if Keith requested him, it must be important. “You need to take this.”
“Raven One to Beta Seven.”
“Raven One, you need to come to the boat house. I have a situation.”
“Be right there.” Mark is already handing him a raincoat, a worried expression on his face.
He jogs down the lawn over the sopping grass, his boots sinking in, making it slippery. Keith stops him a few yards from the boat house.
“It’s Savannah.” Cole’s stomach sinks. “I found her lying on the deck of the boat house. She looks really sick, and her pulse is racing. She won’t let me move her. I didn’t want to force her.” He gives Cole a look; they all know better than to force things with their “guests.” Victims of kidnapping are to be handled with kid gloves. “I just thought she’d respond better to you.” Keith grips his arm as he comes closer. “Cole, she doesn’t look good.”
“Take me to her.” Cole follows him around the corner to where a drenched, lethargic Savannah lies on the deck floor. Delta Six is holding an umbrella over her head. Cole’s heart sinks as he rushes to her side and drops to his knees, shocked at how pale she is. He checks her pulse; it is racing.
“Hey, Savi.” He tries to remain calm and notices her eyes never shift from the horizon. “Why are you out here?”
“Tell Cole I’ll leave,” she barely whispers. Leave? He glances up at Keith, who gives a grim nod—she is clearly out of it. He bends down to get a good look at her pupils and finds them dilated.
He gives Keith the sign to call the doctor. “Code one, Keith.”
Keith quickly calls it in.
She moans and holds her stomach.
“Savannah, why would you leave?” He tries to distract her as she retches again.
“The American—his name is connected with mine—he doesn’t lose hostages.”
What the hell? How does she know this? What she’s saying is classified information.
“I need to leave before—” Her words are slurring, and her eyes look heavy. “Tell Cole not to worry. I’ll leave.”
Over his dead body will this woman be leaving the safety of his house.
“I’m going to pick you up now, Savi.”
“No,” she whimpers, trying to push him away. “Sick.” He ignores her protests and cradles her to him. She is so exhausted her body is like mush against his.
“Keith,” he calls over his shoulder, “my entrance.”
Keith runs ahead and opens a side door reserved for Cole only. It is a direct route to his room.
Once they are out of the rain and in the back hallway, he turns to Keith. “Go get Abigail, and don’t mention a word of this to anyone. Call in someone to replace you tonight, get dried off, and meet me back in my room.”
Keith nods then glances at Savannah before he leaves.
Cole is happy it was Keith who found her and not one of the other guys. They might have moved her, thinking it was for the best.
He opens the door to his bedroom and places her on his bed. She grips his jacket, and he stills.
Her eyes are closed, and he knows she is barely hanging on. She moans and lets go of him and clutches her stomach, and he grabs a small garbage can.
Wow, she’s really sick.