Chapter 2

Irina saw Jack stumble and fall. She was at his side in an instant. Crouching down, she saw a dark stain rapidly spreading across his trouser leg. "You're wounded? Dammit, Jack! When were you going to tell me?"

She looked into his face and saw him grimace in pain. When his eyes met hers, the emotion was immediately stifled and he glared up at her defiantly.

There was a shout, and the searchlights flickered in their direction. "We've got to move," she urged him. "I've got a Rover parked just beyond that hill. Can you make it?"

He struggled to his knees, then to his feet. "I'll make it," he grunted. He took a step, and shivered as his weight bore down on his injured leg. Irina winced in sympathy. She was just about to assist him when he took another step, and started haltingly down the hill.

An admirable attempt, but he was too slow. Ignoring his protests, she stepped up to his side and drew his arm around her shoulder. She felt him stiffen immediately. Irina growled in frustration and fought the urge to hit him.

"Come on, Jack. Stop being so damn stubborn." She took a step forward. Jack still held his body completely rigid, though he didn't fight her. Irina sighed, and the sound was more like a hiss.

"Relax. Look, either you trust me, or you don't," She pressed him. "But if we don't get moving right now, we're both going to die in this mudhole. Is that what you want?"

"Just move," Jack gritted between his teeth. Irina led him across the field as quickly as she dared, not wanting him to pitch forward and fall. Sporadic gunfire could still be heard behind them, and spotlights criss-crossed the ground, but never targeted their location. The hill was difficult; the vegetation was thick and the ground uneven. More than once they had to stop so Jack could gather his strength for another climb.

At last they crested the hill, and Irina saw the dark hulk of her vehicle, parked in a ravine below them. She and Jack stumbled and slid down the grassy slope. Irina winced as Jack nearly fell, forcing her to jerk him upright quickly, lest they both go down together. She heard him gasp. "We're almost there," she said.

They made it to her battered but sturdy Rover. As she helped Jack into the passenger side, Irina wished she'd had the foresight to pack a first aid kit. *But then, I wasn't exactly prepared for an escape for two*, she thought grimly. Irina slid into the driver's side and glanced over at Jack. His eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back. She frowned, hoping that the leg wound was the extent of his injuries.

Gunshots rang out, reminding her that their pursuers hadn't given up. Irina gunned the engine and slammed the car into drive. She maneuvered them down a gully, slipping and sliding through a muddy creekbed until finally climbing the embankment and rolling onto a narrow dirt road.

Time passed, the scenery whipped by them as Irina tore past farmhouses and tiny settlements at breakneck speed. She took her eyes off the road for a moment, glancing in Jack's direction. He was slumped in the passenger seat, his head lolling to the side. She frowned. "Jack!" The Rover hit a pothole and she winced as his body jerked. And still he remained silent.

"Jack. Can you hear me?" No response. *Damn*. Irina spun the wheel to the left, abandoning the road for a patch of nearby undergrowth. She slammed on the brakes, and the Rover skidded to a stop.

"Irina?" Jack asked quizzically. He swallowed dryly and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window. "I think I need some help," he slurred.

*You need more than that* Irina thought, but said nothing. She leaned over him, noting the blood pooling under his thigh. Why the hell hadn't he said anything? This wasn't a flesh wound-it was death. Irina noticed he had retained the presence of mind to attempt his own tourniquet his belt lay over his thigh. She pulled the blood-slicked leather from his weakened, trembling hands, surprised her own weren't shaking. "Jack, I've got to stop the bleeding..." *So much blood. On the seat...staining his clothes*. "You have to lift your leg. Lift it!"

She slid the belt under his thigh and secured it above the wound, tight. He gasped.

She saw his eyelids flicker, then slide shut again. "Dammit, Jack! Stay awake. Look at me!" She gave the ends of the tourniquet a final tug, and he flinched.

"Here," Jack responded. "I'm here." His eyes opened and he regarded her. "Call Carmelita," he instructed.

Her eyebrows shot up. Carmelita? But she didn't have time to consider the odd request. Instead, she said: "Where's your phone?"

His brows knitted together. "My bag," he said thickly. "No... it's here, or in the bag. She's a doctor."

"All right." Irina kept her voice low, and matter-of-fact. She reached into the Rover's back seat and rifled around in his gear until she found a small, black cell phone the size of her palm.

She turned back to Jack. His eyes had slid shut again. She nudged him. "Jack." She snapped. "Stay with me." She raised her hand so he could see the phone. "Tell me how to contact Carmelita."

"Call her," Jack supplied. "Number's in there. Borges. Tell her I said hello. Nice lady."

Irina nodded. Quickly, she hit the speed dial and put the phone to her ear. She waited as the call rang through, not at all sure what to expect. She kept an eye on Jack. The bleeding had slowed, but it had not stopped. She bit her lip. This 'Carmelita' had better know what she was doing.

A voice came over the line and spoke in Spanish. "Hallo Juan? You call twice in one week, I'm hoping you're not in trouble again," the woman's voice said.

"This isn't Juan." Irina replied. "But he is in trouble. You're a doctor?" She asked tersely. She had no idea who this woman was. Jack seemed to trust her. It was all she had to go on at the moment. She hoped it was enough.

"Si," the woman replied crisply. "And who are you and why do you speak for Juan?"

"A friend. Jack's been injured. He's dying." The words were harsh. Her own voice seemed distant, and cold. "I don't have time for this. Are you going to help, or not?"

"Si, si. But I am in El Tigerito. Can you come?"

Irina did a couple of quick calculations. The town wasn't far, however, given the nonexistent road system it may as well have been fifty miles. But it was as good as she was going to get. She glanced over to Jack, gauging how much time he might have before the blood loss became critical. Irreversible.

"Give me twenty-five minutes." Irina cut the connection without ceremony and put the car back in gear. Jack moaned, and Irina's hands tightened on the wheel. "Focus," she commanded. "What is the square root of 94?"

"Nine," Jack bit out. "Point six nine... five."

She nodded sharply, and the tightness eased in her chest. She took a deep breath and continued to pepper him with mathematics questions as she sped them towards El Tigerito.

They arrived in the hours before dawn. Irina slowed the Rover, scanning the street for the address Carmelita had given her.

"Carmelita Borges, MD" graced a battered shingle on small storefront in the center of town. Irina eyed the place uneasily. The street was deserted, as one might expect at four in the morning in a tiny Peruvian town. But she knew instinctively that their pursuers wouldn't simply give up. They had resources all through this province, and probably beyond. Between herself and Jack, they had done enough damage to the chemical plant that night to be made examples of. It's what she would have done in their place.

She wouldn't allow them to succeed.

Irina knew she couldn't risk taking Jack through the front door. It was too exposed, and small towns were notoriously difficult to hide in. She drove past the store and circled around it, finally backing the Rover between a small shed and a large shade tree.

Jumping out of the car, she strode to the passenger side and began the laborious process of getting Jack out of the car. He was barely conscious now. She struggled to get him to his feet, slinging one arm over her shoulders in an attempt to lever him out of the car. His body was like a dead weight in her arms.

"No, no, use this," A nearby voice urged in Spanish. When Irina turned she saw a diminutive woman, barely five feet tall, and in her seventies at least. Her long grey hair was tied back in a braid, and her small, round glasses were very thick. She steered a wheelchair along the cobblestones and brought it to Irina's side. "Slide him on this," she insisted. "He's an ox, we can't carry him."

Irina nodded her thanks, and the two of them managed to get Jack in the chair. As they wheeled him through the back door, Irina said: "He's been hurt badly. I did the best I could, but he needs more than field medicine." Her tone was flat.

She told the woman the basics, but skated over the circumstances that led up to the injury. Carmelita was an unknown quantity; Jack seemed to trust her, yet Irina couldn't afford to do the same. Not yet.

They hurried down the narrow corridor and emerged into a small surgery with medical equipment that ranged from rudimentary to fairly advanced. "Let's slide him onto the table," The woman instructed. It took both of them to tilt the chair and drag him up. When he was reasonably situated, Carmelita asked, "You can help me, yes? I see you don't faint at blood. Can you set an IV?" She donned a lab coat and picked up a pair of large scissors and began attacking Jack's pantleg to expose the wound.

Irina nodded. Carmelita, in preparation for their arrival, had laid out an array of medicines and equipment. Irina began working, setting up a saline drip that was laid out and ready for them. Irina adjusted the tubing and slid the needle into the vein at the juncture of Jack's forearm and elbow. *He'll have a hell of a bruise in a few days* she thought. Still, it got the job done.

"Good, good," Carmelita muttered as she explored the wound. She made a tsk-ing sound several times. "Too much blood. However, the femoral artery is undamaged." Looking up to Irina, she gave her a series of instructions, as if she were a surgical nurse. All the while the doctor's wizened fingers efficiently cleaned and repaired Jack's thigh.

"Gracias, Senora," the doctor said as she finished with the last stitch and then stripped off her gloves. "He will be all right, do not worry," she added with a smile. "As I said, he's an ox. I call him Juan el Toro. A very sore toro tomorrow though."

Irina laughed, surprising them both. 'Si, Senora. Es un toro muy obstinado!" She shook her head. Glancing at Jack's prostrate figure, she allowed a small smile to tug at her lips.

Carmelita laughed, "Yes, but I take care not to tell him he's stubborn. Or he will glare at me." She eyed the digital heart monitor, and nodded, pleased with the results. "Too big to move to a bed, so we'll put some blankets on him until he wakes up and can move himself."

"How long will he be out, do you think?"

"Some hours I hope," the doctor replied. "Longer is better for him." She reached out and smoothed Jack's hair from his forehead in a curiously maternal gesture. You two are in danger, no?"

Irina tensed and fell silent. With the threat of death temporarily averted, Irina's suspicious nature reasserted itself.

"Do not worry," Carmelita replied breezily as she pulled several woollen blankets from a cabinet. "I do not ask Juan too many things, and I won't ask you. But perhaps your name? So I may ask you to breakfast and coffee?"

Irina released a breath. "My name is Laura." It wasn't the truth-but it was /a/ truth, the only one she could give at the moment.

"Laura." Irina felt the older woman's keen gaze. She lifted her chin and met Carmelita's eyes without flinching. "Well then Laura," Carmelita handed her a blanket. "Let us tuck in our bull and then look to breakfast."

They worked in silence, folding the blankets around Jack as he slept. Irina followed Carmelita down a hall into her cramped kitchen and watched as she put a pot of coffee on to boil.

Irina leaned against the edge of the counter and viewed Carmelita speculatively. The woman had a quickness to her movements that belied her age. /A sharp mind, as well./ She thought. Carmelita hadn't wasted time asking unnecessary questions, something Irina was grateful for. The very fact that Carmelita hadn't questioned her meant that emergency visits Jack weren't all that uncommon.

"How long have you known Jack, Senora?" Irina asked casually. She moved toward the cabinets and located two coffee cups, setting them on the counter.

Carmelita began preparing a simple breakfast, humming to herself as she worked. "I have known Juan many years. He saved my son from the Shining Path; he is now very successful in business in Lima. And I see Juan from time to time, and sometimes sew him up. He is a good man."

Irina ran a finger along the rim of her coffee cup. "Yes, a very good man," she agreed.

Carmelita placed a plate in front of Irina full of eggs, tortillas and fruit and poured her a cup of strong coffee. "When the shops open I shall go into town and see if anyone is looking for you."

"Gracias, Senora." Irina hadn't realized how hungry she truly was until the food was placed in front of her. She dug into her eggs with relish. "This is very good," she commented.

"I think you are hungry enough to eat anything, Senora," Carmelita said with a lilting laugh. "But thank you for enjoying my humble meal."

Irina gave a slight nod. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Carmelita smiled and picked up her own fork and they enjoyed a companionable silence during the meal. Soon, Irina had finished her breakfast and Carmelita was on her feet beside her. "Would you like more, Senora? Coffee?"

"No, thank you. I think I should go move the car. And then, if you wouldn't mind, to take a shower."

"Of course, of course my friend. You are tired, I can see. And not just from danger, but from worry."

A smile flashed briefly over Irina's face.

Excusing herself, Irina went to park the Rover in Carmelita's garage. She wondered again at the doctor's willingness to help. Whatever debt Carmelita felt existed between herself and Jack had to have expired long ago. Yet, it was obvious that Jack trusted her, and Irina sensed no duplicity in her.

How much had Jack told her about himself, about what he did? The doctor didn't seem to know any details, but she had first hand knowledge that his work was dangerous. Irina shook her head. Well, whatever she suspected, it was clear that Jack hadn't told Carmelita about her. There had been no recognition in the woman's eyes at the name Laura.

Irina returned to the clinic, carrying her travel pack. "If you could point me to the bathroom."

"Si, si," Carmelita said. "Follow me." She walked Irina up a steep flight of stairs to the living quarters above her practice. "Please, use this. And there is a bed if you wish to sleep."

"Thank you." Irina responded. The room was small, and quaint. It had a rustic charm that Irina found appealing. There was no shower, only a bathtub. The handles squeaked as she turned on the faucet.

Shedding her torn black garments, Irina stepped into the hot water, hissing as the liquid met abraded flesh. Quickly, she washed away the night's accumulated grime and blood *Not mine, a tiny voice whispered*, noticing an ugly blue black bruise forming on her calf.

A few minutes later, she stepped out of the tub and moved into the adjoining bedroom. The room was modest, with a small twin bed in the center, and an old wooden dresser in the corner. Clean, fresh air blew in from the open window to her left, and the curtains billowed with the breeze.

Irina felt her muscles twinge as she sat down on the bed, the ache merely a prelude to later stiffness. She ignored it. Rifling around in her bag, she pulled out a a pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt. Donning them quickly, Irina turned her attention to the set of binoculars she'd brought with her.

Earlier, she had seen a staircase leading up to the roof. An excellent vantage point, she thought. Both she and Jack were moderately safe, but it would be foolish to believe their haphazard escape had gone unnoticed.

She gave the binoculars the once over, checking for any damage. Satisfied, Irina slung the strap around her neck and headed for the roof.

To Be Continued