Movement sounded behind him, but he couldn't risk turning his back on Ammar. Damn but he hoped it was help and not an ambush.
Ammar's eyes flared with panic. Which meant help for Yasmine. Drew allowed himself one heartbeat of relief.
Two shadows slid past him, footsteps closer, until Jack Korba and Monica Hyatt stopped beside him.
Ammar inched back. "No closer! Stay there or I will blow her up now."
He extended his arms on either side of Yasmine—a grenade clutched in each fist.
Pins pulled.
Fuck.
His beautiful Yasmine was seconds away from being blown up by a fanatic. Five seconds to be exact, once Ammar released the safety levers.
Unless somehow he made a Hail Mary save in a situation that twenty years of combat experience told him could only end in one horrible, explosive way.
Ammar's hostage plan would not work, if that was even his true wish. More likely the man planned to blow himself up and whomever else he could take along.
Logical answer? Bluff a while longer and let the sniper likely sliding into place take out Ammar. Hope the bullet wouldn't go through and hit Yasmine. Pray like hell somehow he could move forward fast enough to pitch both grenades after Ammar fell.
Too many variables. All ending with Yasmine dying, and God help him, as much as he knew he would do his damnedest to save anyone, this wasn't just anyone.
This was the woman he loved.
She wasn't Glenna any more than he was the same man from all those years ago. He didn't even bother to dodge the self-recriminations over having not figured it out sooner because that would have wasted precious seconds he could spend looking at her. He telegraphed his apology through his eyes that this woman swore she could read. >But the time had come to accept responsibility. Nothing could have stopped her from coming to Rubistan. And not even a whole bottle of tequila shots could have made her marry Jack if she hadn't wanted to.
Sydney pulled her arm free from Monica's waist. "I don't know if I could have made it through an exam from a stranger."
And yet Sydney sat tall, radiating far more peace than Monica could find within herself. God, she'd made a mess of things all the while deluding herself that just because her medical trays and suitcases were organized, she had control over her life.
Her little sister was the stronger one today. Wounded but not broken.
"You would have held it together. But I'm glad I could be here to make it a little easier for you."
"Me, too." Her arms crossed over her stomach. "I'm thinking about giving the baby up for adoption."
"You can come stay with me," Monica answered instinctively.
"Blake and I are together again, for good this time. That's one decision I'm certain about. As hellish as all of this has been, we understand each other better now."
Not only was Sydney stronger, but Monica's little sister wasn't so little anymore. Roles shifted and shuffled some more. How strange she'd never thought to look to Sydney for advice, far more comfortable in the role dispensing it. "I'm so glad for you and Blake both. You deserve happiness more than anyone. But the offer stands. If he's TDY, you could drive down. I'll drive up when I can. We're family."
"I'm really going to be okay."
"Maybe I'm not." Well, hell. Way to go with the support.
Sydney blinked, wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"
Okay, she would hold it together enough not to sob her eyes out, but maybe some truth was good, too. "Call it a part of my puzzle and journey— acknowledging I'm not okay yet. God, hon, you know I was worried as hell. I need to see you're all right. Often. And I suspect that's not going to ease up for a while."
"Of course." Sydney pressed her sunburned cheek against Monica's, then pulled back. "I figure we're due some major gab fests with lots of pizza and popcorn because, God, I'm craving popcorn these days so much I can hardly stand it."
The Ziploc seal strained close to breaking even with her newfound respect for her sister's wisdom and strength. Tears burned the backs of her eyes and no way was she imposing the full extent of her pain on Sydney.
"Popcorn. You're on. Lots of it, with extra butter." Sliding off the litter, Monica pulled a smile and wondered if her other sister liked Jiffy Pop. After twenty-three years, maybe it was time to find out. "I really should see what's keeping Yasmine. And I'll check on Blake while I'm out there."
"Thank you."