Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(86)

As they reached the stairs, another SUV raced onto the airstrip. Jon, Adam and Jake formed a wall between the others and the approaching vehicle. Brent tucked Alexa closer to his chest and covered the back of her head with his palm, preparing to sprint up the stairs, when he recognized the occupants of the SUV. The second Fortress team.

Within five minutes, both teams were aboard the plane as well as a unit of PSI trainees. Brent ushered Rowan to a row of seats in the back. He’d planned to shift Alexa to Rowan, thinking she’d want to sit on her aunt’s lap. Instead, the little girl clung to Brent, refusing to let go.

Rowan smiled. “You make her feel safe.”

He blinked away the mist clouding his vision and settled into the seat beside Rowan. Pressing the intercom button, he told the pilot, “Get this bird off the ground.”

“Yes, sir.”

A moment later, the engines powered up, and they raced down the runway. Once airborne, Brent called Zane. He’d rather talk to Rowan, but the questions he needed to ask her would have to wait until Alexa was asleep. He didn’t want to upset the girl if it turned out Garcia or his men had hurt Rowan.

“What do you need, boss?” Zane asked in greeting.

“St. Claire?”

“Successful rescue. They also killed several cartel members in the operation. The ambassador met his family along with the Fortress teams at the plane. They’re airborne, headed home.”

“The third plane?” The one carrying Durango and the PSI team.

“Also in the air. The Shadow unit will be on the ground in less than an hour.”

Brent settled deeper into his seat and shifted Alexa enough to take pressure off his ribs. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Carstairs hasn’t crawled out of his cave yet.”

“Have my home checked. I’m taking Rowan and Alexa home with me.”

“I’ll take care of it.” His communications guru paused. “I hear you got nailed pretty good before you left.”

Someone had been talking too much. “I’m fine.”

A snort. “Right. I’ll let you know if something comes up,” Zane said and ended the call.

A warm weight settled on his shoulder. “Where’s Jake?” Rowan asked.

Alarm snaked up his spine. Had he been right about Rowan? “Where are you hurt?”

“Not for me. For you.” She nodded toward his biceps.

He glanced down. A dull ache commenced. He sighed. That’s the way it always happened. Injuries didn’t register at first because of the adrenaline rush. “It’s not bad, baby.”

She frowned. “I want Jake to check. Please.”

Jake was already moving, mike bag in hand. The medic raised the arm on the seat so Brent could swing his legs into the aisle and give him access to the injury without dislodging Alexa.

The medic shoved up Brent’s shirt sleeve. He opened his bag and cleaned the wound. “Needs stitches, boss.”

“Do it.”

“Will it hurt, Brent?” Alexa mumbled.

“No, sugar. Jake’s good at patching me up.”

Jake numbed his arm, glanced at Rowan. “Shift to Brent’s other side, Rowan. He needs a distraction. Can’t have him passing out with this little angel in his arms.” He grinned. “I won’t tell if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.”

Chuckles broke out all over the plane from operatives who knew the instruction was for Rowan’s benefit, not his. Brent had stitched himself on the battlefield without the benefit of anesthesia when there was no time to wait for the meds to kick in. Brent turned his head and saw why Jake had made the suggestion to Rowan. She looked pale and on the verge of passing out herself. “Come here, baby.” He freed one arm from holding Alexa and wrapped it around Rowan. Settling her into his side, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You kept your head and protected Alexa. You did what was necessary until I found you.” Man, he longed to tell Rowan he loved her, but didn’t want to spill his guts and beg her to give him a chance to love her for life with an avid audience of Fortress operatives.

“I was scared to death,” she said.

“Being brave means doing what’s necessary in spite of the fear.” He glanced at Alexa, noted the closed eyes and steady breathing. Man, she’d just dropped off to sleep. Brent turned his attention to Rowan, studied her a moment. “Tell me the truth, baby. Did Phillips, Garcia, or any of their flunkies hurt you?”

She looked away without answering.

Brent’s gut tightened. “Sweetheart, look at me.” He waited until her gaze locked with his. “Who hurt you?”

“Garcia was angry about the records,” she whispered.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing. Snake Skin did the work.”

“Relax your arm, boss,” Jake murmured.

Rowan’s face was unmarked, indicating Snake Skin stuck to body shots. She must be hurting, yet Rowan hadn’t uttered one word of complaint. “If I hadn’t already killed him and Garcia, I’d go back and take care of them,” he murmured. From the heated rumbling sweeping through the plane’s cabin, his operatives were angry as well. “When Jake finishes with my arm, he’ll check you.”