Double Play (Nadia Stafford 3.5)

He moved around the bushes to see her crouched in the undergrowth, and he wanted to rush forward, drop his gun, scoop her up and hug her, as tight as he could. Like some movie reunion scene. Crush her against him and say, Thank God. I was so worried. Instead, his grin fell away and he stood there, awkwardly holding his gun at his side, as he said gruffly, "You okay?"

"I think so." She started to straighten, swaying, and he could see blood on her arm, which was bound with a makeshift tourniquet. He said, "Slow down," but she was already up . . . and that sway turned into a topple. He rushed forward, his gun shoved in his pocket as he caught her.

"Or maybe not . . ." she said with a chuckle, and he heard that laugh, as wry as it was, and he gave her that fierce hug he'd imagined, her face against his chest until he heard a stifled hiss of pain and quickly moved back, saying, "Fuck. Sorry. Fuck," but she drew him into a hug as tight as his own and said, "Thanks for coming," and he had to chuckle at the way she said it, as if he'd done her a favor, possibly inconveniencing himself in the process. Hey, thanks for coming by. Sorry about all the trouble.

"Gonna get you--" he began, and then heard Evelyn's "Goddamn it!" followed by a shot. Nadia grabbed the nearest tree for support and pushed him off, saying, "Go." He cast a quick glance around, making sure the area was clear. Then he ran back to find Evelyn standing over their hostage, blood pumping from his chest.

"Fuck," Jack said.

"He's still alive," Evelyn said.

Barely. Jack glanced at Evelyn. She didn't explain what had happened, just kept her gaze on the downed man, and that was all he needed to see. That she wouldn't meet his eyes. He also noted dirt on her left knee and mentally filled in the rest of the story.

She'd lost control of her captive. Maybe she'd heard Nadia's voice. Maybe she'd just turned to see where Jack had gone. In years past, that wouldn't have made a difference. But these days, a quick shove was all it took to put her down. She'd had to shoot fast and blind. Which meant they now had a dying hostage.

"Shit," a voice said behind him. He turned to see Nadia making her way toward them, moving from tree to tree. He strode over, but she waved him off. "I've got it. Just a little woozy. Good thing you guys got here, or I might have staggered right

into their path."

Jack doubted that, but he only said, "Fill me in?" as he walked to the dying man.

11 - Nadia

I watched Jack take control of the hostage as I struggled to keep my brain on track. It was still fuzzy, like I'd woken from a deep sleep. I kept staring at Jack, thinking I was imagining this, I had to be, that I'd fallen unconscious and was dreaming he'd arrived.

He glanced over. I got the message. Talk. He had a hostage living on borrowed time.

"Not sure how much you know already," I said. "Quinn was kidnapped. Diaz came to tell me."

"Diaz?"

"The Contrapasso guy. Who is . . ." It took a moment for me to remember. Then I turned, seeing an arm on the ground through the trees. "Over there."

"Fuck," Jack said. "Turned on you? Or helping you?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I thought the former, but I think it was the latter. He knew something was amiss with Quinn's disappearance, so he let me take off as bait. That trap caught three guys, who are now dead."

Jack grunted, as if this didn't need to be clarified--of course they'd be dead if they came after me.

"Hispanic?" he said.

I nodded. "But I'm not sure if that's significant."

"Yeah. It is." Jack kicked the man on the ground. "Isn't it?"

The guy only groaned.

Jack hunkered down. "You want us to help you?"

The guy nodded. I started toward him. Jack saw that and said, "Evelyn?"

It took a moment before she blinked and then patted the guy down and removed his weapons, which was indeed what I'd been going to do. The fact that Jack had to prod her meant she wasn't quite herself either. Evelyn rarely ventured into the field these days and she says that's because she's retired, which is true, but I'm sure she also doesn't appreciate any reminder of her age. She must have been holding the hostage when she'd been forced to shoot him, which had thrown her off her game.

I watched that pat-down carefully, in case she was too distracted to do it right. She wasn't, of course. She removed a knife, gun, wallet, cell phone and then did a second pat before backing away.

"You want help," Jack said. "We want answers. Which cartel?"

The man said nothing.