As soon as he entered the alley behind the building, he activated the thermal goggles. Hugging the wall, he stopped shy of the back door. Heat sensors showed the images of two people in the break room, both seated.
Maverick switched to his night vision goggles and shot open the lock. He burst through the back door and stormed into the room where he’d seen the figures.
For a split second, his mind froze, the sight too heinous to be real. Internado had his gloved hands around Carly’s throat. Her head was back, her eyes closed. She made no sound, didn’t fight back.
“NOOOOO!” Maverick charged toward the senator.
Pure evil shone from his eyes, but he wouldn’t release his hold around Carly’s throat. Maverick threw him aside and he crashed against the small kitchen table before slamming to the floor.
Carly didn’t move and panic turned to dread, but Maverick shoved down the emotion and went to work. He found a kitchen knife and cut the ropes, freeing her. She slumped forward into his arms and he laid her on the floor.
Behind him, the tiniest sound roared in his ears and he turned as Internado rained down on him with a metal chair. He grabbed the chair before it hit him and shoved Internado back with such force he hit the wall and bounced off.
As Maverick stood, Internado came at him again. Maverick grabbed his Glock and aimed for his chest, but Carly’s words crashed into his thoughts. If he dies, the truth dies with him.
In that split second, Maverick lowered his aim and shot him in the thigh. As Internado screamed, Maverick hammered his head with the butt of his weapon and dropped him cold. After storing his Glock and yanking off the goggles, he turned his attention back to Carly.
She was still as death. Forcing down the panic, he knelt by her side and felt her carotid artery.
Nothing. No pulse.
God, no. No, no, no.
Adrenaline coursed through him as he placed the heel of his hand on her chest, laid one hand over the other, and performed thirty compressions.
No change.
“C’mon, Carly. Breathe.”
He tilted her head back, lifted her chin, and breathed life into her.
She remained lifeless.
“Breathe, Carly.” Dread surged through him.
He repeated the maneuver.
No change. “No, no, no. You can’t leave me.”
Determined to bring her back, he moved into position and resumed thirty more compressions. Still, she offered him no sign of life.
“Carly, come back to me.” Dread was morphing into panic, but he flat-out refused to give up on her.
Again, he tilted her head back, lifted her chin, and breathed into her. Twice.
She lay there lifeless, but he forged forward. No way in hell are you leaving me.
“Fight, Carly. Fight your way back to me. I can’t live without you.” He performed another set of compressions. On the seventeenth, she gasped air into her lungs.
Hope coursed through him. “That’s it. Breathe.”
She inhaled another raspy breath and coughed. “Nice and easy. Slow, easy breaths.” He covered her with his suit jacket, checked her pulse. It was faint. He called 9-1-1.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“My girlfriend was strangled. She had no pulse and I performed CPR. I need police and an ambulance.” He kept his voice steady, though his heart was exploding out of his chest.
“Is she breathing now, sir?”
