A Dangerous Leap (18 page)

Several hours later the subtle shift of her boat woke Kelly. She blinked at the clock then smiled. Oh three hundred. Ian must have decided to stop by instead of calling.

The boat shifted again and Mizzen growled a low warning from the end of the bed. Nerve endings prickled across Kelly’s body.
Two
people had boarded her boat.

Despite Ian’s nagging, she hadn’t thought to lock the hatch. Her nine millimeter service weapon was stowed in her locker at the air station.
Think, dammit, think
.

Moving silently, she rose to her hands and knees and edged toward the end of her platform bed. Her phone was plugged in near the clothes locker. If she could reach it—

The hatch opened with a clatter and a white tactical light swept across the cabin to pin her in its blinding glare. She felt more than saw Mizzen leap from the bed.

“Yeah, you were right, she’s awake,” a harsh male voice said.

He was somewhere behind the light, but Kelly couldn’t tell if he was the one holding it or not. Either way, she didn’t recognize his voice

She settled back on her haunches. Unable to see anything but the burning white beam, Kelly tried to protect her sight by squinting. It didn’t seem to matter as tears flooded her eyes. She held her hand up to block some of the light. “Who are you? What do you want?”

She didn’t keep much cash on her and she only had a couple of credit cards—

“Your boyfriend.”

“Ian?” What in the world would they want with Ian?

A short muttered conversation took place between the two intruders. Her whole body froze when she heard one of them say
fuse
. Fuse? Dear God. They were looking for Matt!

“Where is he?” The voice and rustle of clothing came closer and the light shifted to the side. “You think he cares enough to save your life?”

Heat flashed over her body followed by a wave of chills. Matt had flown out days ago. She had no idea where he’d gone. Anything he did, including where he went, was classified information. It was safer for him, and her, if she
didn’t
know what he was doing.

“Don’t play dumb. We saw him here. He spent a couple of nights with you…” the light traveled up and down her crouching body.

“So we’re thinking it was more than just sex, otherwise he would have been with the hot redhead,” the second voice said with a sneer.

Jesus, they had been spying on her and Caitlyn?

Anger replaced fear. She would
not
let them use her to hurt her brother—or anyone else she loved. While she didn’t have a weapon on board, she did have more than one flare gun. All she had to do was create enough of a diversion to reach it.

And hope to hell she didn’t catch the Admiral’s boat on fire in the process.

A hand reached out from behind the blinding beam and grabbed her upper arm. “Come on, we have a plane to catch.”

He yanked her off the bed and when her legs collapsed he shook her roughly. “Don’t try to slow us down or I’ll just knock you out and carry you.”

A plane? It would have to be a private plane to haul an unwilling passenger…oh hell, these men had to be the drug buyers. They would have been keeping an eye out for their delivery. Matt had been tracking the drugs from South America. He had never admitted it, but come on, how else had he known about the DC-3 and its load of cocaine?

“Bring the dinghy around and I’ll hand her down to you,” the man holding her said to the other one. Then he set the light on the dinette, its beam pointing up.

He shook her again. “And so you don’t get any ideas about calling for help, you’ll be wearing this,” he said and released her arm. He quickly wrapped a rough cloth that smelled of oil and gas around her mouth and tied it tight enough to make her gag.

Ha, ha, maybe that’s how it got its name. Don’t be an idiot, Kel, this situation is about as serious as it gets
.

He snatched up the light and pulled her toward the steps, his hand like an iron band around her triceps.

Her emergency flares were clipped to the underside of the railings on both sides of the cockpit. She just needed to come up with a way to get her hands on one of them.

Kelly had reached the top step when Mizzen yowled and suddenly she was being pulled downward. The tactical light flew across the deck and the man let go of Kelly, probably to try and break his fall. She rolled toward the side rail and grabbed the flare gun.

She stripped it from its case and aimed it at the man with one hand and yanked off the gag with the other. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot. It may not kill you outright, but the heat and resulting fire will probably make you wish it had.” She dropped the gag and then steadied her grip with her left hand.

“I don’t think she’s bluffing,” a voice said from the dock behind Kelly.

Lights suddenly flooded the area and a half-dozen men in jackets with various letters emblazoned in yellow swarmed onto her boat to take control of the man still sprawled on the deck.

Dazed, Kelly looked around at the flurry of activity.

“I think you can stand down now,” the man who’d joked about her bluffing said with a chuckle. “Do you have a propensity for blowing things up too?”

Kelly relinquished the flare gun to the narrow-faced young man now standing beside her. She started shaking so badly her teeth actually chattered as if it were twenty degrees out, not seventy.

“Come on, you need to sit before you fall down.” He took her arm but immediately dropped it when she winced. He flashed a small but equally bright light on her upper arm. “Hell, he did a number on you,” he said softly. He took her other arm in a very gentle hold and led her to the cabin below.

Kelly sat on the edge of the padded bench seat hugging herself and trying to process the craziness that had just happened.

“Here,” the man said, producing a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. Then like a magician, he placed Mizzen in her lap. “I think she’s earned fresh fish for life.”

Kelly closed her eyes and hugged her cat to her chest. Who would have thought Mizzen’s habit of tripping people would save the day? She opened her eyes and looked closely at the man staring back at her. “You must be Squirrel,” she said.

A twinkle and a slight twitch of his mouth confirmed her suspicion. “Fuse told me he could always count on you to come up with needed supplies when the going was tough.”

He shook his head. “I wish I’d figured this out before they got to you. We lost track of them a few hours ago and I had a bad feeling about where they were going.”

Mizzen was happily purring and kneading Kelly’s thighs through the blanket. She knew Matt well enough to know he would not react well to what just happened.

“Maybe we should keep this our little secret.”

Squirrel laughed. “Hell no, I can’t wait to tell him how you got your new name.”

“New name?”

“There she stood, in a skimpy tank top and shorts, fighting off the bad guys with her trusty
flare
gun.”

Lord, Kelly hadn’t given a thought to how she was dressed. Or not dressed. Heat engulfed her face. “There is nothing skimpy about my tank top.” She raised her chin and sniffed. “And I don’t think that’s a good thing to bring up to a man known for his short fuse.”

Squirrel choked on his next belly laugh. “Flare and Fuse. Yeah, I can see the pyrotechnic family resemblance.” He stood. “I’ll see if we can get the powers that be to take your statement from here so you can get some sleep. I understand you’re slated to be on duty tonight.”

Startled at the reminder, Kelly glanced at the clock on the coffee maker. Less than an hour had passed since she woke to the feel of her boat moving. It felt like days.

Squirrel patted her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll have someone keeping an eye on you until you report to work. Then I think your Coasties will keep you safe.”

* * *

The buzz of her alarm finally broke through the wild dream of surfing off the barrier reef on a broken helicopter rotor, shooting flares like a gunslinger while being chased by a bright white light. She squinted at the red digital readout of her clock and squealed. It was twenty-two ten. Shit! Her alarm must have been buzzing for some time or she’d hit snooze without really waking up. Regardless, she was late.

The adventures of the early morning felt as unreal as her dream of surfing. Part of her wanted to treat it the same way—just a frightening dream she should forget about.

She threw on a clean flight suit and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the dinette table. Maybe she’d have time to run through a fast-food place on her way to the air station. She grabbed her cell phone and noted there was no message icon showing on the LCD screen. Ian hadn’t returned her call.

Kelly left instructions for the cat-sitter to buy Mizzen a case of fancy canned cat food. Her cat was eating like a queen for the rest of her nine lives.

She ate a burrito on the way onto the base and tried Ian’s two numbers again without success. Double damn, she’d wanted to see him before they took off for south Florida. She was stowing gear on the Jayhawk when the rescue alarm blared in the hangar. She glanced at her watch. It was twenty-two forty and their crew wasn’t due for another twenty minutes.

The two on-call helos were still out on separate missions, leaving them “on” only if they could assemble a crew in time to scramble.

Caitlyn ran out of the ready-room, her expression grim. “We’ve got a grounded boat west of the Keys and an inbound hurricane bearing down on them,” she said. “Has Joe made it in yet?”

“Right behind you. What’s up?” he asked trotting to catch up to her.

“Two families, consisting of five adults and two children, aboard a sixty-five-foot sailboat tried to make a run in from Fort Jefferson to Key West. They went off course in the gale and ran aground in the Rebecca Shoal area. Now Gina is spanking them. We’re their best chance of making it to land safely before Gina hits full force.”

While Caitlyn talked she went through her preflight check of their helicopter. “They’ve got some minor injuries sustained during the grounding along with a potential heart attack victim on board. Flight ops is trying to locate another swimmer to help, but it’s not looking good.”

Kelly and Joe climbed into the helo and began stowing gear and going through their own checklists. Her stomach threatened to send her dinner back up for reconsideration. It looked as if Ian’s prediction was coming true—she’d get her chance to ride out a hurricane, or at least the leading edge of one, with Caitlyn at the controls. At least it would keep her from thinking about drug smugglers and buyers.

Ryan joined the crew a few minutes later and the ground crew towed the helo out of the hangar. Caitlyn fired up the engines and they sat on the ground, rotors spinning.

Joe looked at Kelly with raised eyebrows before keying his mic. “What’s the delay, Cait?”

“We’ve got one more crewmember on his way. Kelly, could you use another medic on board?”

Distracted with her own gear, Kelly murmured her assent. If someone required advanced lifesaving, she’d take all the help she could get.

When the side door slid open, filling the Jayhawk with wind and rain, she didn’t have to look up to know it was Ian. Heck, if she’d been hooked up to monitors, her vital signs would have set off alarms.

Her eyes devoured him as Joe gave him a high-five. The smile he shot her way started tentative, then grew downright cocky. Double dang doggies, her lovesick expression must have broadcast her capitulation. She grinned anyway. Why pretend indifference when her heart tumbled end over end at the mere thought of him?

Ian slipped on his helmet and adjusted the mic. “I heard you were looking for me when you got back in from Georgia. Did you have something important to say?” he asked too casually as he stowed gear behind his jump seat.

For a split second Kelly thought Ian had learned about her attack on the boat. No, he wouldn’t have such a cavalier attitude about her near abduction.

She cocked her head at him. Jeez, was that line just a little too practiced to be off the cuff? Oh yeah, he’d overplayed his innocence. The look he gave her, or the tone of voice by itself might have worked, but the two together were definite overkill.

One glance at Joe confirmed it. The bastard had ratted her out.

“Oh, no, nothing much,” she said with feigned indifference. She settled back onto her seat and stared out the window at the slashing rain.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His raised eyebrow was irritating, but the smirk, the smirk made her do it.

A dramatic sigh preceded her next statement. “All right. I was going to tell you how much I loved you, but now I know better. It was only delusional thinking brought on by sleep deprivation and stress. After my little nappy-poo I’m all better.” She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes for the full effect.

Amidst hoots of laughter Ian lunged across the Jayhawk’s floor and hauled her into his arms. Helmets with headsets were definitely not designed with kissing in mind, but their lips made contact anyway. Kelly tried to ignore the smooching sounds her crewmates bombarded them with, preferring to concentrate on Ian’s delicious mouth. She groaned with pent-up hunger and frustration. She had been an idiot.

Turbulence bounced their helo, sending Kelly sprawling on top of Ian. “Buckle up kiddies, it’s only going to get rougher from here on out,” Caitlyn informed them calmly over their headsets.

They scrambled into their jump seats, Ian buckling into the one next to her. Kelly wanted to hold his hand and talk about their future, but Gina, that bitch of a hurricane, had other ideas.

The hour and forty-minute flight out to Rebecca Shoal reminded Kelly of the videos she’d seen of the hurricane hunters. Whereas the NOAA and Air Force crews routinely flew into hurricanes, and were used to being thrown about the sky, this was her first time. If anyone but Caitlyn was flying, she might have opted out of this little excursion.

Somewhere along the way Ian had taken her hand, lacing his fingers between hers and squeezing whenever the Jayhawk shuddered. Talk about mixed blessings—she loved the contact, but hated the helpless feeling of being batted around the night sky.