The Heroic Surgeon

Gulnar suddenly spoke, translating, and from the amount she said it seemed it was everything he’d said from the beginning. He wanted to shut her up, made a desperate gesture for her to, but she shook her head and plowed on.

Molokai went for her and Dante roared, “Come near her and you will die, right now, Molokai! Do you hear me? You know I can do it. I brought your trained armed men down, alone and unarmed. I don’t need my hands to snap your neck!”

Molokai stopped, his lips compressed. Gulnar kept talking. Then he smiled. “So she isn’t just your harlot, huh? You care about her!”

Oh, God, no!

“That makes everything easier.” Molokai rubbed his reddish beard. “You see, Guerriero, I want to put you on video, saying what I tell you to, begging and weeping for your life. I knew you might refuse to, even with torture. She’d do it, but I don’t want a woman. Not good for our image. I want you! Now, if you don’t, we’ll rip her apart a piece at a time until you do!”

Dante’s blood charred in apoplectic impotence. Gulnar said something to Molokai in Badovnan. His men gasped then a couple burst out in helpless snickers. She said more and two laughed outright.

Molokai snatched his gun from his holster and turned on her.

“Shut up, Gulnar!” Dante growled.

“Easy on the English, darling. The guys didn’t understand a thing until I explained, and the one who understands English I think is with his boss on it. I think it was news to the others.” Her eyes swung to Molokai. “Seems you’re not that popular either, if they enjoy your embarrassment that much, Molokai.”

Molokai bared his teeth. “Azeri bitch, I can shoot pieces off you and you’d still live. I don’t need you in one piece to have your lover begging to do my bidding!”

Gulnar smirked. “Go ahead, you fart! Makes you more and more of the brainless, rattled coward that you are! So scared of a tied-up woman!” She quickly translated to the others, drawing more of their resentful glee.

“Gulnar!” Dante was losing his mind. He was still male and entitled to challenge Molokai to a degree, but her…Molokai might shoot her outright!

She turned flashing eyes on him. “I live with you, or not at all!”

No. No way.

Dante struggled to his feet. “Molokai! I’ll do what you want. One condition. She walks out of here, gets delivered back to GAO, unharmed. I get proof of that, I’ll record anything you want!”

“No, Dante. He’ll double-cross you! He betrayed his own men and you think he’ll honor his word to you, after you exposed him to his men?” She rushed to translate to the men.

Molokai gave her a murderous glance, circled around him. “How can I be sure you’d keep your word? You broke your word to me once.”

Dante almost gagged on rage and loathing. “I didn’t give you my word then. You allowed me two lives, didn’t ask me to pledge my agreement. This time I am giving you my word.”

The men’s murmuring rose at Gulnar’s translation and Molokai’s almost colorless eyes crinkled. He was enjoying this, the son of a bitch! He said something to his men. They fidgeted.

They were hesitating to obey him!

Yes, yes! Their plan was working.

One of the men said something. Gulnar translated. “He’s asking him if what we said is true.”

Molokai turned on his man, fury blotching his pale complexion. Gulnar kept talking, addressing the other men. “I’m telling them their turn is coming, that he will just keep conning them, disposing of them one by one and getting more stupid recruits all the time, using their heroic example.”

Molokai turned the gun on her and one of his men stayed his hand, raised his voice. The enraged exchange went over Dante’s head. He only knew the tide was turning. He noticed the right-hand man slipping out. Then all hell broke loose.

There was a gunshot. A thunderclap, curdling Dante’s blood. His shouts for Gulnar to get down were drowned in more and more gunshots and roars. Then a fully fledged storm of gunfire broke out—outside.

A man, bloody and inert, fell over Dante. He struggled to shove the body off him, bellowing for Gulnar to stay down, to answer him. He was heaving in a breath to bellow another shout when everything hushed. For five seconds. Then the door to their cell exploded open and a dozen heavily armed soldiers stormed in.

Dante barely registered them, his eyes seeing only to find Gulnar, his breath coming only to gasp an incoherent litany of her name. Then he found her. Face down, with one of the fallen men on top of her.

Hands were on him, someone was cutting his restraints and he was roaring for her. He exploded from the hands that pulled him to his feet, hauled the man off her and hurled himself to the ground beside her. She was covered in blood, unmoving. Air screamed in his chest, came out in choppy howls, his hands, out of control, groped for her pulse. Nothing. Nothing.

“Gulnar!”

Someone tried to help him turn her over. “No!” He rammed him away. No one was touching her. He’d do everything. He’d save her. He’d stop her hemorrhage and she’d be OK. Get yourself together!