Page 68 of Prisoner of War
“Post? Courier?”
“Hand delivered.” She gasped.
“And...?” he coaxed.
The window overlooking the sea exploded inward with a blast of hot, roaring air.
Nick’s reaction was instant. He pulled Calli tight against him and turned the big, high-backed chair away from the window. He held on to her as the blast battered at them, hunched over her to protect her from the worst of it.
The deafening blast lasted only a few seconds. Then came the tinkle of glass pattering onthe desk, the carpet. It was a deadly rain of shards, plaster and dust. Hot air that throbbed around them.
Nick carefully lifted his head and Calli looked up at him, blinking. His dark hair with the deep red highlights was almost white on top where the dust had settled.
He swiveled the chair around to face the window.
The window was gone. In its place was a gaping hole in the wall. Even theframe had been ripped from its moorings, exposing the old stone building blocks.
Nick said something. Calli could see his lips moving and even the low rumble in his chest, where it rested against her arm.
“What?” she said. She couldn’t hear her own voice either. “I can’t hear!”
Nick brought his lips close to her ear. “Help the others! There will be injuries!”
“What happened?” she shouted back.
“Bomb.” Nick shook his head sharply, clearing it. “Car bomb. I think...I fear Blanco is dead.” He got to his feet and settled her on her own. “Go. They will need someone calm to direct them.” He pushed her toward the door.
Calli walked stiffly, glancing at the gaping wound in the wall as she went. She was stunned, her senses all wrapped in cotton wadding. Nick expected her to be the calm director?
She buttoned her shirt and stepped out into the main rooms and was hit with panicked, hysterical Spanish as dazed people covered in dust instantly coalesced around her. Already, her hearing was returning.
She held up a hand. “Slowly, slowly,” she said in Spanish. “Who is hurt? Tell me.”
* * * * *
Forty minutes later, Nick appeared at her side as she scratched off names on one list and addedthem to another. He crouched down next to her as she bent over the woman on the makeshift pallet on the second-floor landing to ask her name.
Nick was covered in dust, splattered with blood and looked as tired as a man who had gone a week without sleep.
He picked up her hand that held the pen and kissed the knuckles. “Mi esposa,” he murmured.
Calli looked up as Josh moved beside Nick. Her unclelooked around the landing, shaking his head.
“Tell me what you need, Josh,” Calli said. “Triage is in the kitchen. There’s also filtered water there and food. Just sandwiches, but the carbs will get you over the shock quickly. Or do you need communications?” She pulled Nick’s cell phone off her belt. “I just traded batteries, so it’s fully charged. The land line is out, but we have email—I setup my laptop on the next landing.”
Josh just stared at her.
“Something else then,” she guessed. “I thought I had covered everything.”
Nick gave a low chuckle and got to his feet.
“You did,” Josh said, his voice hoarse. “Jesus Maria, all this in ten minutes?”
“Forty,” she corrected, glancing at her watch. “You know what Nick’s like. He tends to give impossible-to-meet demands and expects youto meet them, so you just somehow do it.”
Nick tried to shrug it off. Josh, though, shook his head. “He knows exactly what everyone is capable of,” he told Calli. He turned slowly around the room. “Sweet Maria,” he breathed. “They wanted to make sure, didn’t they?”
“What happened?” Calli asked Nick. “Was it...?”
