Merline Lovelace - Course of Action - The Rescue - Jaguar Night / Amazon Gold

Josh hadn’t been intimate with a woman in six months. But he wasn’t the type to find a prostitute to satisfy his needs. Nor could he do one-night stands. Usually his partners would want a second, third and fourth night. Celibacy was easier in many respects than having to deal with women or marriage. But that didn’t stop his heart from wanting to know Aly better.

He had such strong, gut intuition, which had saved his life too many times, that he couldn’t idly dismiss the feelings he had toward her. Josh couldn’t get out of his mind the tragic car wreck she’d survived. And he also wondered how her Marine Corps father, probably a major around that time in his life, had dealt with his critical daughter and grieving for the loss of his wife and son simultaneously. Josh wasn’t sure he could handle it. The emotional fallout must have been brutal for Aly.

It was none of his business, so he dropped it for now. Still...that picture spoke strongly of someone who was kind and compassionate. A woman with tender sensitivity toward the plight of others. She was a nurse. She put her own life in jeopardy to help relieve the suffering of others. Aly might be a romantic and idealist about life, but at least she lived what she believed.

And that was something Josh respected whether he agreed with her decision to work in one of the worst areas of Brazil for drug lords and drug trafficking. He smiled a little, one corner of his mouth hooking upward as he continued to recon the villa. Her father might think her soft and incapable, but Aly’s life decisions spoke differently. How far apart were she and her father emotionally from one another?

He shifted slightly, seeing a door at the main entrance open and close. A tall, bald man, armed and looking important, met and talked to one of the guards in the plaza.

Slowly allowing his rifle to hang from his left shoulder harness, Josh took out his digital camera, turned it on and, utilizing the long lens, snapped photos of each of them. As the second guard came around, he took more pictures.

Later, when he opened up his laptop and connected with a satellite, he would send the photos to the CIA in Langley to be identified. Josh wanted to know who he was dealing with. Later, after he got the gist of the rhythm of the villa and its occupants, he would begin a thorough search of the perimeter. Sometimes, he knew from his Recon experience in Peru, villas often had a tunnel that ran from the inside directly into the jungle. It was an escape route should the villa be overrun.

He watched as a tall red-haired woman emerged from a nearby tiled walkway. She was dressed in one of the skimpiest outfits he’d ever seen and she was drop-dead gorgeous. She wore a red halter, breasts pushed up, the nipples damn near showing. The tiny red shorts she wore hid just about nothing. Makeup heavy, her hair up on her head, gold bangles in her ears and at least six or seven gold bracelets on one arm, Josh let out a low breath. He snapped several photos of her: full face, quarter face and profile. Grinning to himself, he was sure the agents at Langley would enjoy the eyeful of this woman.

The bald-headed soldier looked up. Yeah, damn right he was giving her a look that spoke volumes. The redhead tossed her chin upward, as if dissing him, turned and swayed like a runway model to the main door of the house and disappeared. Josh remembered that Duarte dealt in sex slavery. Was this one of his slaves? Because she sure as hell couldn’t survive out here in an outfit like that. Now, if he could spot Aly... Would she be dressed similarly? Where were they keeping her? Was there a section where sex slaves were kept? Guarded? So many questions. No answers. Not yet.

Chapter 3

Aly slept restlessly in her new room. She’d been removed from the apartment with the three women who serviced Duarte. The windows in her quarters had iron bars over them, though she had opened the shutters to let in the sluggish, humid nighttime air. The only door was locked from the outside. She could not escape.

A hand suddenly clamped over her mouth.

She screamed and fought, eyes wide with terror.

The man who leaned over her held her shoulder down so she couldn’t move and rasped out, “Allison Landon?” His voice held a Texas drawl.

An American! Nostrils wide, breathing in explosive breaths, her eyes slowly acclimated. There was a small night-light in the room, shedding just enough light for her to see him.

Oh, God, he was a soldier! An American soldier! And he was holding his large hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. His eyes were narrowed, his face was painted in dark colors, and he wore a flop-brimmed hat on his head. He was also wearing jungle camos.

“I’m Marine Corps Staff Sergeant Josh Patterson. I’ve come to rescue you. Now, don’t scream. I’m going to lift my hand away.”

Aly sobbed and shot into a sitting position, staring up at the large man. He put his hand to his lips, cautioning her not to speak. He was carrying a rifle on his left shoulder. She saw a huge knife in a sheath on his right calf. In a drop holster low on his thigh sat a pistol. He eased a small ruck off his broad shoulders and set it on the bed.

“Get into these,” he told her quietly, pulling out a dark green T-shirt, black cargo pants, socks and a pair of combat boots. “Hurry!”

Shaken, Aly gave a jerky nod. How had this man gotten in here? She noticed the door was still shut. Somehow, he’d gotten into her room. Oh, God, she was going to be rescued! Climbing off the bed, her knees weak with adrenaline, she grabbed the clothes and hurried to the bathroom down the hall.

Josh looked around, moving like a shadow to the nearest window. The soft scuff of boots on the tiled walkway could barely be heard. It was guard number one walking by her door. He pulled the cover off his watch and read the dials. In ten minutes, guard number two would patrol past her door.

He glanced down the hall, trying not to be emotionally affected by Aly Landon. Even in the grayish darkness of her small room, he’d seen the color of her wide, beautiful eyes. She’d been so frightened when he’d clamped his hand across that mouth of hers. Feeling badly, but knowing it couldn’t be helped, Josh waited impatiently for her to reappear.

She didn’t disappoint him, swiftly moving down the hall. Josh grinned to himself. Aly gave new meaning to that T-shirt of his. He’d brought along a pair of women’s cargo pants and combat boots he’d guessed would fit her. He watched as she quickly wrapped her hair up into a ponytail as she approached him, pleased he’d been so accurate.

Aly reached out, gripping his arm. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quavering as she met his eyes. “You’re risking your life to help me.” Her lower lip quivered and then she closed her fingers more firmly around his lower arm. “I’m so grateful...”

The swelling on her left cheek upset him, along with the large bruise. Anger moved through him. Then he saw bruise marks around her throat. What the hell? What had happened to her?

“Ms. Landon, are you ambulatory?”

His voice was low. Calm. She certainly wasn’t.

“Yes, I can walk.”

“Good. Wear this.” He pulled the last piece of clothing from the small ruck. It was a camo blouse with long sleeves. It would hide her white skin out in the dark jungle, making her less easy to spot. And Josh knew that Duarte, once he found Aly gone, would launch an immediate, all-out hunt to find her. And kill her.

Aly’s hands were shaking as she pulled on the lightweight blouse. She tried to button it.

“Let me,” he growled, pushing her hands aside, quickly buttoning it up.

“I—I’m sorry,” she said, meeting his shadowed eyes. She saw his stoic facade drop for a split second; saw the compassion in his eyes. And then it was gone.