CA 46.5 Operation Second Honeymoon Read Online Free
Author: Debra Webb
crack enough to pry at the wall it dissected. The section inside the perimeter of the crack shifted but didn't open. Then she pushed. The wall moved inward. She pushed it as far as it would go then crouched down to peer inside. A touch to the cell phone's screen awakened it once more. There was no floor beyond the oddly jagged door. She leaned forward and looked down. Narrow, steep stairs led downward into the darkness.
Carefully, Victoria eased onto the top stone tread. After inspecting the back of the makeshift door she found rusty hinges and a handle of sorts. With a deep breath for determination, she closed the doorlike section of wall. She sat and scooted downward, one dusty stone step at a time. The walls around the area were stone. A secret cellar? Maybe. It might very well have been necessary to conceal supplies during raids when the monastery had been occupied. Sheer survival in this remote area likely prompted the need for a hiding place.
As she reached the final step, the dank smell filtered through her intent focus, pressing around her like a thick, sickening compress. Leaning forward she touched the floor of the room or cellar. Dirt.
A soft whimper echoed in her skull as if someone had screamed in her ear. Victoria froze.
Her hand a little unsteady, she held up the phone and nudged the screen to life with her thumb. "Who's there?”
Across the ruins of wooden barrels and decomposing boxes, a woman stared back at Victoria. Next to the woman, a small child snuggled closer in fear.
Startled, Victoria peered around the cluttered space. If the woman had any other companions they were hidden beneath the rubble. "Are you hurt?” The woman said nothing. Victoria picked her way through the mess. As she neared, the woman's breath caught as if she'd only just realized she and her child were no longer alone.
Victoria eased into a crouch. "Are you all right?"
The woman and child appeared to be Hispanic. Victoria was a little rusty but she managed to repeat the question fairly accurately in Spanish. The woman searched Victoria's face as if attempting to identify a possible threat. The light from the screen faded.
"Help me." The words were soft, weary and in English.
Victoria touched the screen, reviving the light. "Are you hurt?" She'd noticed no bruises or blood. That the woman had chosen to hide down here with her son suggested that she might be running from someone.
Taking Victoria's free hand in her trembling one, the woman pressed Victoria's palm to her belly. "The baby is coming."
Dear God. The woman's protruding belly was hard with a contraction. The child beside her, a little boy, made a distressed sound. Since the mother had spoken in English, Victoria assumed she possessed a fair command of the language. "Soon?"
"Soon," she confirmed.
Victoria didn't need the light to know this was no place for the event to occur. Then again, given the gunmen outside, this might very well be the only safe place under the circumstances. Whatever their attackers wanted, the result would not be good for anyone trapped inside.
"Water," the woman pleaded, "please. My Emilio is thirsty."
Victoria's heart ached for the child. There was bottled water in the Jeep. Outside. She patted the woman's hand reassuringly. "I'll get water for him." It was dark outside. Victoria could reach the Jeep. As long as Lucas knew to cover her. She needed to brief Lucas, get Salvadore down here, grab the water from the Jeep and then get back down here to prepare for the birth. Victoria swallowed back a rush of fear. Simple.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice frail with pain.
"I'm sorry.” She should have identified herself at the outset. "My name is Victoria. My husband and I are here to see what we can do to help with the new hospital."
A low moan rose from the woman. She grabbed Victoria's hand and squeezed hard. Emilio wailed in fear.
"I heard stories about the hospital," she said, breathless from the contraction. "We have no
Carefully, Victoria eased onto the top stone tread. After inspecting the back of the makeshift door she found rusty hinges and a handle of sorts. With a deep breath for determination, she closed the doorlike section of wall. She sat and scooted downward, one dusty stone step at a time. The walls around the area were stone. A secret cellar? Maybe. It might very well have been necessary to conceal supplies during raids when the monastery had been occupied. Sheer survival in this remote area likely prompted the need for a hiding place.
As she reached the final step, the dank smell filtered through her intent focus, pressing around her like a thick, sickening compress. Leaning forward she touched the floor of the room or cellar. Dirt.
A soft whimper echoed in her skull as if someone had screamed in her ear. Victoria froze.
Her hand a little unsteady, she held up the phone and nudged the screen to life with her thumb. "Who's there?”
Across the ruins of wooden barrels and decomposing boxes, a woman stared back at Victoria. Next to the woman, a small child snuggled closer in fear.
Startled, Victoria peered around the cluttered space. If the woman had any other companions they were hidden beneath the rubble. "Are you hurt?” The woman said nothing. Victoria picked her way through the mess. As she neared, the woman's breath caught as if she'd only just realized she and her child were no longer alone.
Victoria eased into a crouch. "Are you all right?"
The woman and child appeared to be Hispanic. Victoria was a little rusty but she managed to repeat the question fairly accurately in Spanish. The woman searched Victoria's face as if attempting to identify a possible threat. The light from the screen faded.
"Help me." The words were soft, weary and in English.
Victoria touched the screen, reviving the light. "Are you hurt?" She'd noticed no bruises or blood. That the woman had chosen to hide down here with her son suggested that she might be running from someone.
Taking Victoria's free hand in her trembling one, the woman pressed Victoria's palm to her belly. "The baby is coming."
Dear God. The woman's protruding belly was hard with a contraction. The child beside her, a little boy, made a distressed sound. Since the mother had spoken in English, Victoria assumed she possessed a fair command of the language. "Soon?"
"Soon," she confirmed.
Victoria didn't need the light to know this was no place for the event to occur. Then again, given the gunmen outside, this might very well be the only safe place under the circumstances. Whatever their attackers wanted, the result would not be good for anyone trapped inside.
"Water," the woman pleaded, "please. My Emilio is thirsty."
Victoria's heart ached for the child. There was bottled water in the Jeep. Outside. She patted the woman's hand reassuringly. "I'll get water for him." It was dark outside. Victoria could reach the Jeep. As long as Lucas knew to cover her. She needed to brief Lucas, get Salvadore down here, grab the water from the Jeep and then get back down here to prepare for the birth. Victoria swallowed back a rush of fear. Simple.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice frail with pain.
"I'm sorry.” She should have identified herself at the outset. "My name is Victoria. My husband and I are here to see what we can do to help with the new hospital."
A low moan rose from the woman. She grabbed Victoria's hand and squeezed hard. Emilio wailed in fear.
"I heard stories about the hospital," she said, breathless from the contraction. "We have no
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