The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(90)

He backed out and followed Noah to the only other door on the hall. This time Noah led the way into the room. A man huddled over a computer. He was wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants and no shirt.

“Move away from the computer. Now.” Bennett clipped the words out loud and slow, even though the information they’d been given indicated the man was fluent in several languages including English.

The man didn’t move except to throw a glance in their direction, still frantically typing.

“Move.” The force in Bennett’s voice did nothing. He couldn’t let the man delete or corrupt the information on the computer.

“On the floor, hands over your head.” Bennett grabbed the back of the man’s neck and forced his compliance.

The man went to his knees but no farther. Noah put a boot in the middle of his back and pushed him down, letting his gun drop to pat the man down. He pulled a knife from a holster strapped to his leg but no gun.

Bennett scanned the small room again. Nothing. The man had left himself unprotected. Inner alarms rang.

Time ceased to abide by the laws of physics. Noah reacted to something over Bennett’s shoulder, a curse rolling out of his mouth like molasses to Bennett’s ears. Noah launched himself at Bennett, their shoulders making jarring contact. The move shoved Bennett off his feet. He landed hard on his opposite shoulder and elbow. The report of gunfire echoed against the walls and reverberated in his head.

Adrenaline pumped his heart and masked any pain. He couldn’t tell whether he’d been hit or not. He flipped to his back and brought his gun up. A woman stood in the doorway with a gun she was fitting another magazine into.

Bennett didn’t hesitate. The force of the bullets sent the woman backward into the hall. A wail came from the leader as he scrambled toward the woman. The gun was at her side. Bennett fired again, putting two bullets in the man’s legs. He crumpled over and grabbed his legs with a high-pitched scream, blood welling through his fingers.

Noah was sitting up, his hand around his throat, his torso wavering. The clomp of boots up the stairs put Bennett on alert, and he trained his gun on the doorway. Darren appeared, the shadows of other team members behind him.

“We need a medic!” Bennett yelled.

Darren called the same to a team member down the hall.

“Secure the women in the other room. Here’s our guy. I only hope he didn’t have the chance to delete everything.” Bennett gestured to the man on the floor. “What’s the situation outside?”

“All secure. Get him out of here.” Darren gestured two men into the room, stepped back, and radioed as Bennett turned back to Noah.

Two team members grabbed the leader under his arms and dragged him out of the room, red streaking the floor like a gruesome finger painting.

Blood slicked Noah’s fingers and pooled on the floor. A neck shot. Bennett eased off Noah’s headgear and helped him stay upright. Keeping the wound above his heart to minimize blood loss was crucial. Noah’s hand trembled.

“Let me. I can put more pressure on it.” Bennett’s voice was rough.

The brief moment the wound was revealed sent ice through Bennett’s veins. Blood pulsed from Noah’s neck with every beat of his heart. An artery had been hit. Bennett slapped his fingers over the gash and pressed hard, but blood leaked through.

“Fuck. Where’s Doc at?” he yelled.

Now that the situation was secure, the moment scrolled through his head on repeat. Noah had sacrificed his own life to save Bennett. Noah was the one with a wife and a baby on the way. Bennett had nothing and no one to miss him. He was the one who was supposed to take a bullet to save Noah, not the other way around.

“Why’d you do that, man? Why?” Bennett whispered, not expecting an answer. Someone turned on lights and Bennett ripped off his headgear.

Noah’s bloodied hand circled Bennett’s wrist with a surprising strength. His mouth opened and closed before words emerged on the wisp of a breath. “Tell … tell Harper … love.”

“You’re going to fucking tell her yourself. I’m not going to let you die.”

They locked eyes. Noah blinked and looked straight through Bennett.

Bennett gave him a little shake. “Hang on. Doc’s coming.” He yelled over his shoulder, “Where’s the fucking medic?”

“On his way.” Darren knelt on Noah’s other side.

“Baby,” Noah whispered.

“You’ll see your baby. Just hang on.”

Noah gave a small shake of his head and a slow blink.

Emotion stripped away the platitudes and reassurances and lies. Bennett’s boots slipped in blood. The reality was stark and devastating.

“R-remember your promise.”

“I’ll make sure Harper and the baby are taken care of.” He swallowed but couldn’t stop the tears from stinging his eyes.

Promise? Noah mouthed the word as if the strength to even speak was too much.

“I promise.”

The fight went out of Noah, his body growing slack in Bennett’s arms. He drew Noah into his chest but kept his hand clamped over his neck. The flow of blood slowed and eventually stopped as Noah’s heart ceased pumping.

Bennett rocked him back and forth and held him tight. The medic arrived with a clatter and fell to his knees next to Darren. He was young, with acne scars along his cheeks and a gaunt face that made Bennett wonder how long out of training he was. They tried to ease Noah out of Bennett’s arms, but he growled at them like a wild animal protecting its young.