An explosion rocked the building, and Rose hit the ground with a screech. Cries and shouting ricocheted off the walls, but she couldn’t get her bearings. The darkened room felt like a tomb, waiting for her death and ready to bury her under the rubble.
Get to the door, Rose.
Scrambling across the smooth linoleum on her belly, the cold seeped into her thighs with each swipe. Another bomb went off, sending debris and glass raining down over her head. She curled into a ball, trying to protect from worse injury. It only helped to much. She hissed as glass shards sliced across her arms and legs with the force of the blow. But she couldn’t risk staying in one spot. Rose forced herself to uncurl and crawl once more for the door, only to freeze when rapid gunfire pierced her door. It took everything not to scream as she rolled across the floor; the glass piercing her skin was the least of her worries. Unable to tell which direction the bullets came from, she needed to be out of the way in case rebels came through her door.
Hurrying across the floor, Rose held her breath against the pain and spread her hands out at her sides to toss blood spears in different directions. It wouldn’t be good to lead whoever could come through her door right to her hiding space. Thinking fast, she got to her feet and raced to the temporary closet in her bedroom. First spot to check had to be under the bed, right? Just as she closed the door and pressed a hand over her mouth, her door burst open.
“Rose!”
She whimpered and sagged against the back of her closet, never happier in her life to hear a harsh male whisper.
“Come on, baby. Tell me where you are,” Welsh demanded.
“Here,” she cried out, opening the closet.
Welsh looked different, his face covered in black paint with slashes of green, and he had a black band around his neck two buttons protruding over his jugular vein. He was holding an assault rifle and had a handgun strapped to his leg.
“We need to move, okay? I want you to put some pants and shoes on as quickly as you can. A jacket, too, if you have one. Go.”
Rose stumbled, picking her way to her bed after grabbing some jeans. She plucked the glass out of her feet and slid her pants over her legs. “What’s happening?”
He shook his head. “Rebel attack. The site wasn’t as secure as we’d hoped. We need to move the Special Operation Surgical Team and MSF doctors out of here, and quickly.” Rose was already putting on her shoes when Welsh pressed a button on the black strip around his neck. “I’ve got her, and we’re coming now. Keep it clear for me.”
“I’m ready,” Rose told him. Her injuries burned under the jeans, and she cringed knowing she was adding foreign material to the cuts she would have to clean later, but for now she needed to stay alive.
“Stay behind me and hold on to my weapon strap. You do not let it go, do you understand me?”
Rose nodded, shaking. “I-I won’t.”
Welsh stepped close, swamping her in his dangerous scent. His eyes were that of a warrior, hard and glinting, but it made her feel safe. He’d get her out of here, she knew it. Letting go of his rifle with one hand, he lifted his hand to trace her cheek with his thumb.
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m your shield.”
Rose swallowed, trapped in his gaze. Time slowed, for just a moment, in the center of a battle breezing around her. Here she could breathe, could think. She understood dangerous situations, and with her expertise, she could help. She wouldn’t slow him down.
“I can do it,” she told him.
“I have no doubt.”
His smile was soft, but his lips were softer, barely ghosting over hers. The brief connection curled her toes.
“Don’t let go of me,” he warned.
“I won’t.”
Welsh spun around and she gripped the thick, black carrying belt attached to his rifle. When he lifted his rifle, resting the butt of the weapon against the pocket in his shoulder and his cheek along the top of the stock, he went silent. The lights had been cut, and they exited her room into a silent hallway. Welsh hovered close to the wall, stopping at each crossroads and to check each direction before he signaled for them to keep going. Rose’s heart was in her throat. She was scared out of her mind but forced her focus to his back.
“Almost to the stairs,” Welsh whispered, and she nodded.
She nodded. Not that he could see her. “Okay.”
She heard buzzing, then static, before Welsh cursed. “Explosive armed, get back!”
He didn’t give her time to react. Instead, he spun around and jerked her into his arms. Before she could even react, he had her off the ground and running back the way they had come. Fire and heat blasted through the hall, sending missiles of rock and mortar into the air. She buried her face in his shoulder, but it didn’t block out the sound of the blaze roaring just steps away. It reached out like fingers hoping to pull them in, the heat from the flames burning her hair. Smoke billowed, sending her into a fit of coughs.
“Escape route blocked. Provide another rendezvous point, Glitz.”
Welsh slid them around a corner and slammed Rose back to the wall. It took the breath out of her, but the way he curled around her, blocking her with his large frame, she knew it wasn’t intentional.
“Not possible, Glitz. Rear and side both block– Glitz! Heim. Snake. Someone come in. Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re cut off. We have to get out of here so I can see what’s going on.”
She nodded, unable to say more as pounding feet sounded on the opposite side of the hallway.
“Baby, close your eyes.”
“I don’t—”
“Trust me,” Welsh told her.
Rose closed her eyes just as he lifted his rifle.