Authors: Gwen Hernandez
Tags: #romance, #military romantic suspense, #supsense
She sat up and scrambled to the other end of the couch, not meeting his gaze. “Well, thank you. I feel better.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and he jumped to his feet, rubbing his face to wake himself up. Scott stopped on the bottom step and took in the scene without comment, then moved into the kitchen and started making coffee. “Hit the road in thirty?” he asked.
“Roger.”
Half an hour later, Jason and Scott took off in the first truck, heading toward the outskirts of Terre Verte, dressed as contractors for a U.S.-based company that specialized in rebuilding infrastructure. Tara had even secured magnetic signs with the company’s logo for the vehicle doors.
Dan loaded his weapons bag into the space behind the bench seat of his and Alexa’s truck and then climbed into the driver’s side. “You ready?”
She gave the door handle a death grip and swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“We’ll get her back.”
“I know.”
He started the engine and began the long drive over winding, narrow, pothole-laden roads.
They encountered very little traffic on their way into Sancoins. The city was still mostly asleep, the shops with their garish signs and colorful flags still closed. Only the fisherman, the homeless, and the police patrols were out as they passed through town.
“We stick out more than I expected,” Dan said. “Which means Scott and Jason will too.”
“I’m sure Frederick timed it this way on purpose.”
She was probably right.
They reached the road to the airfield outside of Terre Verte at eight-fifteen. Alexa wasn’t supposed to go down to the runway, just stop nearby. Dan turned onto the small side street and whipped around so they were facing out, then cut the engine.
“Roll down your window.” The cab had quickly turned hot. Sweat trickled down his back and along his sides as he took care of his own window. “We want to be able to hear anyone approaching.”
She did as he advised and a warm breeze filled the truck, bringing little relief from the morning sun that glared through the windshield.
“I hate waiting,” she said.
He managed to keep his hands to himself by wrapping them around the steering wheel. “Almost there.”
She nodded and looked away.
They sat in silence, much as they had the entire morning, each lost in their own thoughts. Dan pushed all of the emotional elements of this mission out of his mind and focused on their surroundings, wary of a sneak attack.
Nothing ever went according to plan. Nothing. But that didn’t make the process worthless. Just walking through the different approaches had forced his team to consider the tools and strategies they’d need. And if things went sideways, they’d improvise.
He and Alexa both flinched when her phone rang, its cheerful tone out of sync with the tense moment.
She snatched it up, fumbling with it before she hit the speaker button to answer. “This is Alexa.”
“Drive down to the airfield. A plane will land in five minutes.” The man disconnected.
Alexa frowned. “So much for a nine o’clock meeting.”
“You can’t trust a guy like this.” Dan held his sat phone on his lap to keep it out of sight and dialed Scott. “Plan Charlie. Five mikes.”
“Copy that.” The sniper hung up.
“Look,” Dan said. “No matter what, you are not getting on that plane.”
“Why would I?”
“I have a feeling you’d do anything for Flore.” He softened his voice. “I understand your need to protect her, but this has trap written all over it. If she’s not on that plane, or he won’t let her off unless you board, we’re not doing the exchange. Got it?”
Her mouth was tight, but she said, “Yes.”
He drove them to the end of the road and parked next to the fence, where three men armed with AR-15s waited at the open gate.
Before they could even exit the truck, the guards surged forward and surrounded them. “Out!”
“Slide across the seat and come out behind me,” Dan said. He wanted her close to him as long as possible.
They exited the truck slowly, hands up. Sudden movements were inadvisable, and he also wanted to give Scott and Jason more time. There wasn’t much high ground around the airfield, and the Marine needed to get into position without alerting Frederick’s goons.
“Give up your weapons,” the blond directly in front of Dan said. He looked suspiciously like the guard they’d seen several days ago while skirting this very runway.
Dan had brought a couple “throwaway” guns for just this purpose. They’d never believe he came unarmed. “So you work for Jeannot, huh?” he asked, removing the nine-mil from his thigh holster and a small Sig from his back. This country was a fucking mess. Was anyone honest?
The man just glared. Most likely he worked for whoever was paying him at that moment. Or paying him the most. Dan had been a mercenary, but not like this. He had believed he was on the right side of things. Then again, his teammates had died because Dan and Mick didn’t have a clue.
He shook off those unproductive thoughts and kept his eyes on the armed men in front of him, keeping himself between them and Alexa.
“I’m unarmed,” she said.
Two of the guards moved in and patted them both down, and Dan used every ounce of will he had to refrain from attacking the man who was running his hands over her body with a gleam in his eye. Despite her humiliation, she wouldn’t want him to jeopardize the exchange.
Apparently satisfied, the lead gunman—the blond—waved them through the ten-foot-wide gate in the fence and along the grass toward a rundown shack that had once been white, but was now a sad gray.
The faint buzz of a plane engine grew louder until a small prop job passed overhead, looped around, and landed with a slight bounce before rolling to a stop near the dilapidated wooden building.
Blondie halted the group and motioned them to face the four-seater. Flore was visible through the back window, her eyes wide as she stared out at them. He could practically feel Alexa’s desire to run to the girl.
Nillin Petitt stepped down from the front passenger side of the aircraft, rounded the slowing propellers, and stopped to face them. He was spiffed up in a collared shirt and chinos, embellished with a shoulder holster stocked with two handguns.
“Help her down.” Petitt signaled to the pilot. Then he waved Alexa forward and held out an iPad.
Two million dollars in small bills like twenties would weigh over two hundred pounds. It was also hard to count quickly, and was easily lost or stolen. Smart man that he was, Frederick had requested a wire transfer instead. That Alexa had access to that much money still boggled Dan’s mind.
She stepped forward and Dan made to follow, but Blondie blocked him. “Just her.”
He could only hope that Scott and Jason were in place and watching the scene unfold.
“Send the money now,” Petitt said, giving her the device.
She took it. “Let Flore go to Dan first.”
Dan silently applauded.
Petitt hesitated but then nodded to Flore. “Go.” He must have decided Dan wouldn’t endanger Flore or Alexa with heroics.
The little girl ran to him and flung her arms around his waist so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe. He returned her embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’ve got you.”
Seeing that Flore was in his arms, Alexa began pressing the iPad screen under Petitt’s intense scrutiny.
Bang!
A bullet slammed into the plane’s fuselage.
She screamed and dropped the tablet, crouching down with her hands over her head. The guards went to their knees, scanning for the threat. Petitt took off running toward the shack.
Another bullet shattered the side window and blood sprayed the cockpit.
“Take cover!” Dan yelled at Alexa. He yanked Flore to the tarmac and dropped on top of her. “Stay put.”
Twenty yards from the small building, Petitt’s shirt bloomed red and he fell face down as the sound waves from the rifle fire finally caught up, thundering in the air around them.
Dan’s pulse spiked as he scanned the area. Who the fuck was shooting?
ALEXA CRAWLED TOWARD DAN AND Flore. Scott shouldn’t be shooting. He was only supposed to fire under imminent threat.
The lead guard—the blond one wearing hunting-style camouflage complete with leaves and pine needles—pointed his gun at her. “Don’t move.”
She froze. “It’s not us.” She was pretty sure. But then who was it?
“I know,” Camo Man said.
Dread pooled in her belly. She tried to catch Dan’s gaze, but he was scanning the area, his eyes narrowed.
A large, black SUV shot through the opening in the fence and drove onto the tarmac. It stopped a few yards from the plane and three more men dressed in tactical gear and carrying rifles jumped out to surround the vehicle.
When the additional security was in place, the back door opened and a tall, black man in a tan linen suit and mirrored glasses emerged.
Frederick Jeannot. Had she really tended his wound only four days ago? A lifetime had passed since then.
“At ease,” he said to the men.
The guards lowered their weapons, but kept them at the ready.
He took a few steps toward Alexa and gestured to her and Dan. “You may stand.”
They complied.
“Bring me the girl.”
“No,” Dan said.
Alexa’s heart pounded against her ribs. Would this nightmare never end? “I was about to transfer the money.” She reached for the iPad that lay near her feet. The heavy-duty case had protected it from the fall and its screen still glowed.
“
No
.” Frederick motioned a guard to retrieve it from her. “That was Nillin’s account.” He spat. “Foolish boy.”
She blinked. “He took Flore from you?”
“He thought if he came early, the deal would be done and he would be on his way out of the country before I arrived.” He took the tablet from his goon and tapped on the screen, then handed it back to her. “Send your money to me.”
She stared at the screen. If she gave him the money, she was supporting everything she detested. Her foundation could take the financial hit, and Flore was worth any expense. But now that she was faced with the man again, she couldn’t bring herself to enter her credentials on the wire transfer.
“What are you waiting for?
Do
it.”
She glanced at Dan. She could offer herself, but that would start this whole nightmare all over again. She didn’t want to give this man a dime, but Flore’s safety was paramount, and the odds were not in their favor.
Reluctantly, she typed in the numbers and approved the transaction. “It’s done.” She handed him the iPad.
He nodded and gestured to his personal security team. “Finish this.”
His men turned in unison and shot the mercenaries in the head. Flore screamed. Alexa gasped.
Frederick’s closest guard hooked an arm around Alexa’s neck and pulled her close, holding a gun to her head. “Don’t try anything,” he said.
The other two men grabbed Dan’s elbows and pushed him to the ground. He held Alexa’s gaze and went down without a fight.
Frederick snagged Flore.
“No!” Alexa cried out.
“Thank you for your donation to the cause, but she’s not leaving this island. She belongs to St. Isidore.”
“But all those other children…”
He gripped Flore’s arm and stopped. “That was Nillin. He was willing to sacrifice them for his own gain.” His voice rose, hard and angry like a nest of bees. “He set up something on the side and raided the orphanages that
I
funded.” Frederick hit his chest with an open palm. “I want better for my people.”
Alexa inhaled sharply and looked at Dan. Her mind whirled. Frederick might not have been behind the black market adoptions, but that didn’t make him a good man.
She struggled against her captor. “But you agreed.” She had been such a fool. “No one will ever pay you a ransom if they know you go back on your word.” She had to be desperate to try reasoning with a terrorist, but what options did she have?
“They always pay.” Frederick dragged a wriggling, wailing Flore toward the truck.
Alexa couldn’t ignore the gun pressed to her temple, but she had to get to Flore.
Think
. They’d covered this in her self-defense class. Arm up, twist. Simple if she didn’t screw it up and get herself killed.
Deep breath
. She exploded into action. Her right hand shot up to shove the gun back. She gripped the barrel and twisted under the man’s arm to face him.
He looked at her in shock, the gun pointing at his chest. Holy crap, it worked! She shoved the gun down and it clattered to the tarmac. He reached for his rifle, raising it toward her chest.
The world came to a standstill. Everyone around her moved in slow motion as if under water. Dan fighting against his guards, screaming at her would-be executioner. Flore calling her name. Oblivious birds flying overhead.
She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live. She wanted to live with Dan. She wanted to have babies and raise Flore with him. She wanted to go to bed with him at night, and wake up with him every morning, and tell him every day how much she loved him. She wanted to grow old with him by her side.
She’d never get over her role in Despina’s rape and suicide, but she knew down to her toes that her sister would want her to do more than live. She’d want her to thrive.
Alexa had no doubts now.
She dropped to the ground. The bullet passed overhead and shattered the airplane’s windshield. The guard swore and tracked her with the rifle as she lurched sideways toward the plane.
His head dissolved into a cloud of pink mist. The rifle clattered to the ground. His body followed with a quiet
thunk
.
Scott
. Thank God.
She gagged and turned away.
The remaining two guards froze, their faces carved in shock. Dan took advantage of the beat of confusion, fighting free of their hold. The trio became a chaotic thrashing of fists. Too risky for a sniper to take a shot.
She launched to her feet and ran after Frederick, who was attempting to wrangle Flore into the SUV. Alexa kicked the back of his leg and punched him on the upper left arm, right where she’d stitched him up days before. “Let her go!”