Hands grabbed her and she was lifted. Jorja struggled to open her eyes.
Why can’t I wake up?
This is ridiculous.
She shook, both trying to snap out of what was rapidly becoming a nightmare and shake the imaginary hands off her body. “Go away.” She tried to smack at the hands, but with the hold they had on her arms, she couldn’t quite reach. When she finally woke up, she was writing a letter of freaking complaint to whoever organized this dream. There had to be a dream department somewhere. She’d hack the freaking pope or something and make him give her an email address.
“Ms. Buchanan, there is no point in struggling,” the second voice said. “You cannot escape, so you might as wellopen your eyes. It is rude to pretend you are asleep when someone is talking to you.”
“I am asleep. And this is a ridiculous dream.”
The evil laugh in response to her muttering sent ice down her neck. She much preferred the shivers Gunnar gave her, thank you… these ones she did not recommend. Zero stars, return to sender.
“I told you not to give her the third shot.” The first voice sounded so close to her ear that she yelped. “She’s still out of it. You’ll have to wait until the drugs leave her system.”
Drugs?
I don’t take drugs.
Am I sick?
What is happening?
“Boss, give it twenty-four hours and she’ll be better able to talk.”
“I don’t want to wait twenty-four hours.”
“You’ll have to,” the first man said flatly. “She’s still out of it. Anything you ask her now, you can’t trust the answers.”
Jorja felt pressure against her neck, and everything faded again. She had a distant sensation of being lowered to the floor again.
This is all so confusing.
Stupid dreams.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Gunnar stareddown the scope at the footbridge which connected two mountain ranges of Jabal al Emir and Jabal al Faish. If he had a prisoner or a hostage in Shaharah, this was the place he would have guards waiting for a rescue to come. Or he’d expect an air infiltration. “What do you think?” he whispered softly to Colt.
“I don’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
“Me either.” On a footbridge suspending a gorge, there were so many places to hide a trap. “Once we’re on that bridge, we’re out in the open…”
“Shut it,” Colt muttered. “You are not going in there alone. We don’t even know for sure that she is there, or that she even is the JB from the text message.”
“Enough.” Gunnar scrambled to his feet. “It’s the only thing which makes sense. It’s all tied back to that mission. It has to be.” He moved into position, knowing most of his team were fanned out behind them. Talon and Zombie were with Dory and the chopper. If they needed the K9, he’d call for them. This part of Yemen had been at war for way too long. Him bringing a team in there was asking for trouble.Zombie would be shot by Shia militants on sight. He gave the signal.
“Grizzly, Zipper.” The call he’d been waiting for finally crackled in his ear; the shit signal in the mountains making Remi sound like he was on an AM radio.
“Go ahead, Zipper.”
“Grizzly, all looks quiet. Drone images don’t show anyone moving about.”
“Copy.” He held his breath, waiting for the words he craved. When they didn’t come after a couple of seconds he asked, “Orders, Zipper?” Sometimes being the boss and not being in charge of the mission sucked. The answer better be go, because even if it wasn’t, he was going in there anyway. If Jorja was in there, then that was where he had to be.
“I don’t like this,” Remi muttered softly. “Go time. Move out.”
“Copy.” As one, they moved, using the steps leading to the bridge as cover, and made their way down the mountain.
