Avery thanked them all again and grabbed a change of clothes from her bag before disappearing into the tiny bathroom.
The second they heard the water turn on, Rocco cast knowing eyes on Rex. “She’s not dealing with what happened.”
“I know. But she literally hasn’t had time,” Rex said.
“She’s gonna crash,” Gumby warned.
“I know,” Rex repeated.
“You gonna be there to help her through it?” he asked.
“Yes.” There was no need to elaborate; his friends knew as well as he did that she was important to him.
“I’m glad we found her,” Gumby said softly.
“Me too,” Rex agreed. “Me too.”
Ensign Scott Wheatland lay on his bunk in the crowded tent he’d been living in for the last four months. He had his earbuds in, but they weren’t on. He found out a lot of good information by listening to his bunkmates talk when they didn’t think he could hear them. But currently he was alone, scowling at the canvas above his head.
His life was quickly going from bad to worse.
He’d been demoted before he’d been deployed, and it was bullshit. The other naval police officers—otherwise known as shore patrol officers—who’d been at the underground dogfighting ring had escaped during the raid, but he’d been nabbed trying to climb over a chain-link fence around the property.
The naval lawyer he’d been assigned had been able to convince the board it was his first time at such an event, and instead of court-martialing him, they’d merely demoted him down to the rank of ensign. It was humiliating and degrading.
And Scott had needed every penny of his previously higher pay to afford the prescription drugs he was hooked on.
He’d gotten hurt on the job over a year ago, tweaking his knee. He’d been given codeine…and once he’d started taking the pills, that was it. Everything else ceased to matter. The high he got from them, the feeling that nothing in his life could go wrong, was so intoxicating, he’d soon begun lying, telling the doctors he was still in extreme amounts of pain.
When the navy doctors had eventually stopped giving him the pills, he’d found another supplier.
He’d been shipped over to Afghanistan on a temporary assignment, but Scott knew it was because his commanding officer was embarrassed to have him around and wanted to punish him further. As soon as he went back stateside, he’d most likely be shipped to Norfolk or somewhere. That was fine with Scott…but the lack of money was not.
So he’d taken matters into his own hands.
The very first day he’d been assigned to this godforsaken place, he’d been patrolling the nearby town, and he met a man who spoke very good English. While chatting, the man had mentioned the lack of a hospital in the area, the fact that there was nowhere to go for the locals when they were sick or hurt. That conversation had given Scott the opening to ask if people had access to painkillers when they were injured.
His new friend had turned out to be a goldmine.
He’d been supplying Scott with his much-needed pills ever since.
One time, when he’d been desperate and out of money, he’d brought the man one of the old bulletproof vests the shore patrol wore while on duty. That had obviously gotten the man thinking…and before Scott knew it, he was sharing information about the activities on the base.
Soon, he’d graduated from trading MREs and old clothes and equipment, to giving the man more and more details about the operation of the base, including when and where supplies would arrive.
When the man had offered him a million US dollars for information on the exact route, timing, and the number of personnel who would be accompanying an upcoming ammunitions convoy, Scott hadn’t thought twice.
He’d worked his ass off for his country, and what had it gotten him? A demotion and a trip to this hellhole as punishment over a bunch of dogs.
Well, fuck everyone.
The problem was, that bitch nurse had seen him talking with his contact in the village.
Scott had done everything right, had made sure no one suspected anything—and he’d be damned if she would fuck up his payday.
He’d made up a bullshit story and a contractor on base helped him set up an account in Abu Dhabi. After he’d given up the details about the weapons convoy, money was transferred into that account, where it was safely hidden from authorities if Scott was ever suspected in the convoy attack.
The navy nurse was supposed to be killed quickly, and what he’d done would never be discovered. It was the perfect setup, as the clinic she worked in was along the convoy’s route.
But his contact had changed the plan. The asshole had kidnapped her instead.
A team of Navy SEALs had shown up to rescue the nurse, and now she was here, on base. Being guarded by the same SEALs.
If there was anyone he hated more than his commanding officers and the asshole judges who’d demoted him, it was the SEALs. They all thought they were God’s gift to women, that they were indestructible.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’d heard a rumor back in California that it was a team of SEALs who’d assisted the local cops in the raid on the dogfight where Scott had been arrested.
He knew he’d never be able to get to the nurse before she left the country. Not now. The only consolation was that he wasn’t already in the brig. That had to mean she hadn’t identified him…yet.
All he had to do was stay out of her way while she was at the base.
He was scheduled to go home in three weeks. Once he got back to California, he’d find her and make sure she kept her mouth shut…one way or another.
Scott also knew he couldn’t transfer the money into his stateside account now. Not while there was a chance NCIS would be checking for any out-of-the-ordinary transactions from anyone who was stationed at the base.
He just had to hope and pray that she didn’t figure out who he was before he could get home and do the job his Afghani dealer hadn’t. He’d have his money one way or another.
Leaning over the side of his cot, Scott grabbed the bottle of aspirin he kept in his duffle bag, which hid his illegal stash of pills. He shook out two codeine tablets, wincing at how fast he was going through his latest acquisition. He swallowed them down with a large chug of water; he couldn’t wait until he was back home, and could crush them up and smoke or inject them again. The high was faster and seemed to last longer that way, but he didn’t have the privacy he needed here. He was always surrounded by others. It grated on his nerves.
Three weeks. Then he’d be home…and could silence the fucking nurse once and for all and get on with his life.
Chapter Eleven
The hot water stung as it rained down on Avery’s battered and bruised body. There wasn’t a full-length mirror in the bathroom, but even without it, she knew she had bruises in places she’d never experienced before.
She hadn’t let down her guard when she’d been out in the desert because she was always afraid an insurgent would leap out from behind a rock and start firing.
She’d been on a roller coaster ride of adrenaline rushes, and for the first time, she felt as if she could simply relax. Oh, Avery knew she wasn’t out of danger. Whoever had wanted to make sure she was dead was still out there. And as long as he went unidentified, her life was still on the line.