The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(91)

The fire crackled, devouring the endless supply of wood in the structure. She entered the conference room and scuttled up the central aisle to the Paris delegation table.

A loud rumbling above, and a large beam crashed to the floor in a hiss of fire, landing between the two delegation tables and spraying debris everywhere. Still on her knees, she grasped for her jacket as smoke swirled around her. She fumbled for the thermal cooling pouch that held the syringes, her fingers slow and awkward. Removing one syringe, she grabbed a fold of skin on her belly, stuck the needle in, and squeezed.

Another beam crashed down, this one closer. She depressed the needle to ensure that all the insulin had been injected. Now she needed to get the hell out of there.

Through her mental haze, she heard pounding footsteps that sent a surge of adrenaline through her veins. She reached for her Glock, prepared to defend herself.

But it wasn’t a rebel.

Rif stood above her, staring at the syringe in her stomach.

For a long moment their gazes met.

“Let’s get you out of here.” He squatted down, lifted her in his arms, and sprinted for the exit. Flames framed the doorway but he ducked low and burst through them, carrying them both out of the hotel.





Chapter Seventy-Three



Rif surged through the front doors, cradling Thea in his arms. Her breath came in rasps from the smoke clogging her lungs. He dodged behind shrubbery to protect them both from rebel gunfire and lowered her to the ground. The body of a dead soldier lay nearby. Rif ripped off the rebel’s jacket and boots and handed them to Thea. “You’ll need these.”

She stepped into the boots and shrugged into the jacket. Both were large but certainly better than no protection. She found a knife in the jacket’s left pocket and shoved it into her right boot for safekeeping.

Seconds later, Jean-Luc sprinted around the corner. The wizened Legionnaire assessed the situation quickly. “Medevac?”

“I’m fine.” Thea coughed, her face streaked with soot.

“Just cover us so we can escape to the jungle.” Rif lifted her back into his arms.

“Go.” Jean-Luc cradled his M4.

Rif scanned the courtyard. No soldiers in sight. He sprinted across the clearing.

One final step, and he lunged into the relative safety of the trees. The thick underbrush jabbed through his fatigues, scratching his legs. He slowed his pace but kept moving. Some of the foliage had already been disturbed. They weren’t the only ones who’d been here recently.

“Let me down. I can walk.” She wriggled in his arms.

“Humor me. Your skin is the color of chalk, except for the soot.” His arms tightened around her protectively. He considered what she’d been injecting into her stomach. No way could it be a drug addiction—it wasn’t in her character. “Are you ill?”

She was quiet for an endless moment. “I have type 1 diabetes.”

The news was a surprise but also made sense. She’d always been private, keeping him at a distance. Was this why? He considered her avoidance of desserts, her regimented eating patterns and fanatical exercise routine. Diabetes made perfect sense. He inhaled deeply, wanting to make sure his first words were supportive. “Thanks for trusting me with the truth.”

She must have worn an insulin pump as a child, because he’d never seen her inject herself. But why hide it from the team? From him?

He considered their missions and thought he understood. Back when Thea first joined Quantum, many of the guys were skeptical about a woman entering their action-oriented domain. She had proven herself and then some. Still, the undercurrent of sexism arose from time to time with new male team members—until she outperformed them, and they ate a healthy serving of crow.

Even if she were a guy, their demanding world didn’t tolerate illness or disease, because any weakness could be exploited. If their positions were reversed, he would’ve taken the same approach and kept the information on the down-low.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, wanting to help.

“I’ll be okay. The insulin will kick in soon.”

He remembered those syringes in Nikos’s safe. Had that been insulin for Thea? Did Nikos know about her diabetes? He wondered how many people were aware of her condition. All these years, and he hadn’t guessed. The woman was an enigma.

“Come on, let me down.” She pushed against his chest.

“You win, but lean on me if you need to. The bush is thick here.” He set her on her feet, making sure she was steady. A slight pink tone had seeped back into her skin. The insulin must be working.

He passed her his canteen. “Have some.”

She swallowed several gulps. “Thanks.”

“You could have confided in me. I told you about what happened in Chad.” He kept his tone low, wanting her to know he could be a trusted confidant.

“And have you worry about me letting the team down?”

“There’s no one I’d trust more to have my back. We’re all human, fallible, but when you and I work together, we’re unbeatable.” He brushed soot from her cheek with his right thumb.

Her gaze was thoughtful, and more open than he’d ever seen.

She placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him closer, their lips almost touching. His breath quickened.

The wind shifted suddenly, and a ghastly stench filled the air.