Authors: Kat Martin

Against the Tide (31 page)

BOOK: Against the Tide

7.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

Rafe couldn't stop a grin. “I'm trying to behave, but you're making it hard.”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I can see that.” The tips of her breasts teased his chest and the hand in the water wrapped firmly around him. Figuring he had given her fair warning, he swooped down to capture those plump, million-dollar lips. The world around them might be spinning out of control, but the next few moments belonged to them.

Liv returned his kiss, her fingers sliding into his hair, her tongue in his mouth, his over hers, going deeper, turning wild and erotic. Life was precious. Coming so close to dying stirred basic survival instincts. The instinct to mate was strong.

Backing her up against the side of the tub, he lifted her a little, wrapped those long, sexy legs around his waist. She was wet and hot and he drove deep.

Olivia moaned. With a long, hot kiss, she arched against him. Rafe gripped her hips and took what he wanted, what he so desperately needed. Gave Olivia what she needed, too.

Time seemed to slow, their troubles somewhere far away. He took her again before reality seeped in and he reluctantly prepared to leave the water.

“We need to get dressed,” he said, pressing a last soft kiss against the side of her neck.

“I know.” With a sigh, she angled away from him, climbed out of the hot tub, grabbed a towel, dried off, and headed down the hall. Rafe grabbed another towel off the stack and followed, enjoying the elegant sway of her hips beneath the towel as she moved toward the bedroom, reminded himself it wasn't a good idea to have her again.

Ten minutes later, Liv was dressed in jeans and a dark green sweatshirt with tiny embroidered pink tulips on the front. Rafe wore black jeans and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt. If something went down, he didn't want to stand out as a target.

They headed down to the living room. It was almost dark when Rafe's phone began to play.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“We got 'em,” Noah said. “Spotted them leaving a cabin off Richardson Highway just as it was getting dark. We followed their headlights. Couldn't get a fix on the plate, so we can't be one hundred percent, but I'm betting it's them.”

“Where are they now?”

“Drove out Dayville Road toward the terminal, pulled off on a dirt lane just before the entrance. Road weaves back in a ways, runs along a creek.”

“Allison Creek.”

“They're about a mile off the main road, pulled in under some trees. We'll be landing at the airport in five minutes. We'll head out as soon as we're wheels down.”

“I'm on my way.” Rafe grabbed the semiauto he'd set on the end table next to the sofa, stuffed it into the holster he'd brought downstairs, and clipped it onto his belt.

Olivia came up beside him. “Where are you going?”

“They found the Jeep. Do you know how to shoot?”

“I can, yes. I took lessons after the first time someone tried to kill me. I'm better with a handgun than a rifle.”

Rafe felt the pull of a smile.

Olivia stared down at the weapon on his belt and frowned. “You're not going after those men?” Accusation deepened the tone of her voice.

Rafe walked over to the table and picked up his revolver. The hunting rifles leaned against the wall. He pressed the revolver into Liv's hand. “If someone comes after you, don't be afraid to shoot.”

Olivia took the weapon, looked into his face. “If you're going after those men, I'm going with you. We've been in this together from the start. That's not going to stop now.”

“No way. You're staying here. I'll be back when this is over.”

“You aren't leaving without me.”

“You can't come, darlin'. You'll only be a liability.”

“I'll stay with the truck and keep watch. You might need an extra pair of eyes out there. As I said, I know how to shoot.”

“Goddammit, Liv, I want you safe!”

She gripped his arm. “I know you do, but look what happened today. We still don't know who tried to kill us. You really think I'll be safer here than I will be with you?”

“Dammit!”

“You're wasting time, Rafe. Let's go.”

He clenched his jaw.
Damned woman.
But arguing wasn't going to change her mind and they needed to get on the road. And there was always the chance she was the target, or maybe two things were happening here at once.

“If this comes down, promise me you'll do what I say.”

“I will. I promise.”

With both of them armed, Rafe urged her toward the door.

Olivia leaned back in the seat of the pickup. She was strapped in nice and tight and it was a good thing, since Rafe was barreling a jillion miles an hour down the road. She prayed he wouldn't hit a moose.

She picked up the revolver, pulled it out of its black nylon holster, flipped open the cylinder and checked the load. Five bullets loaded and ready to shoot.

As her instructor in Texas had said, “They ain't much good if they ain't loaded.” She shoved the pistol back into its holster. She had an extra handful of shells in her jacket pocket.

On the road ahead, the pickup headlights cut through the blackness as they careened along the pavement. The vehicle hit a pothole, but Rafe didn't slow.

“Why aren't we calling the police?”

“Because we aren't completely sure it's them and even if it is, they haven't done anything wrongâat least nothing we can prove.”

“So we're going after them to see what they're up to? That's it?”

Rafe cast her a sideways glance that spoke volumes. They were armed. So were Noah and Derek. The men would do whatever it took to stop a terrorist attack.

Olivia kept pressing. “But we'll call them, right? We'll call the police if we're sure this is going to happen. We'll call, right?”

“Yes, absolutely. We need help with this. We just have to be sure we've got the information we need to get them involved.”

“Okay, then. All right.” It made sense. One thing about Rafe. He was solid as steel. He wouldn't go all macho and try to take matters into his own hands. Would he?

She didn't think so, but she couldn't say the same for Noah and Derek, who were even more overloaded with testosterone than Rafe and looked to be spoiling for a fight.

“Derek gave you their location?”

“Approximate, yes.” He slowed the pickup and turned onto a narrow dirt road. “They pulled out of sight beneath a cluster of trees. They can't just drive into the terminal unless they have some kind of clearance, and obviously they don't. If we can find them before they can launch whatever they have planned, we can stop them.”

A chill slid through her. “Stop them how?”

“Just keep looking. There aren't that many places they can be.”

“What if they see us?”

“The idea is to see them first.” Rafe slowed again, checked his mileage, pulled over to the side of the road out of sight. He rolled down the windows and turned off the engine, reached up and popped the bulb out of the overhead light, then quietly cracked open the door.

“Stay here. I'm going to scout ahead, see if I can spot the Jeep. Derek and Noah should be here any minute. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

He didn't give her time to argue, just slipped off into the darkness and disappeared. Fear coiled in her stomach. What if he was spotted? What if something happened to him? She remembered her awful, sickening terror when she thought he had drowned.

He was raised here
, she reminded herself.
He was in the military. He knows how to handle himself.
But her fingers curled around the pistol just in case.

The night sounds began to creep in, the rush of the sea against the rocky shore, the breeze rustling through the foliage, new leaves jostling against one another in the darkness. In the distance, the low rumble of an engine reached her. No lights appeared, just Rafe's big, dark SUV with big, bad Noah Devlin behind the wheel.

He pulled out of sight a little off to the right of where the pickup was parked. No overhead light went on. She didn't hear a door open or the sound of footfalls. They were just there.

“Easy,” Noah said. “It's us. Don't shoot.”

They were both dressed in black, wearing black tactical vests, and armed to the teeth. A long, ugly knife was strapped to each man's thigh, and their faces were streaked with black grease paint, making them look like villains out of a horror movie.

Olivia fought not to panic. Rafe and the others were supposed to be following Heng and his friend, not confronting them.

“Where is he?” Derek asked, forcing her to concentrate.

“Rafe's looking for the Jeep. He should be right back.”

He stepped out of the quiet just then, a tall, familiar shadow that sent a little pang of relief sliding through her.

Rafe walked over to the men, tipped his head back the way he had come. “Quarter mile down the road. Computer set up in the back of the Jeep. Looks like state-of-the-art equipment. Whatever they're planning, they're ready to roll.”

“How many?” Noah asked.

“Two.”

“Where's the big guy?” Derek asked.

“Inside,” Rafe said without the slightest doubt, though there was no way to know for sure.

“Got to be,” Noah agreed, sticking to the assumption that the man who had tried to rape her was part of the group.

“Shit,” Derek muttered. “And there may be more.”

Noah turned his head, his gaze shifting farther down the dirt track toward where the Jeep was hidden. “Explosives. Just like the boat. My guess, they're planted and ready to blow. The destruction will be massive.”

“We've got to stop these guys now,” Rafe said.

Olivia felt faint. “You said you were going to call the police. That's what you said.”

He stepped in front of her, reached out and caught her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Soon as we take these guys down, we'll call. But we can't let them blow the terminal, and that's what they'll do the minute they know the cops are on to them.” He leaned over and kissed her quick and hard. “Damn, I wish I'd left you home.”

“We need a few things before we go in,” Noah said, striding over to the Expedition. Lifting the back without the light coming on, he opened the case, took out a black tactical vest and tossed it to Rafe, who slid into it as if he did it every day.

He joined Noah at the back of the SUV, rubbed greasepaint on his face, then Noah handed him a second semiautomatic pistol and a couple of extra clips. Derek passed an ear piece to each man, who stuck it into his ear.

“Keep your revolver handy and stay out of sight,” Rafe told Liv.

Noah walked up and tossed her his cell phone. “It's on vibrate. Derek and Rafe are both programmed in.”

“The keys are in the ignition,” Rafe added. “If we don't call or get back in fifteen minutes, get the hell out of here.”

Olivia's heart throbbed with fear as the men disappeared out of sight.

Moving silently through the shadows, Rafe spotted the Jeep, pointed it out to the others, and they fanned out into the darkness around it. The rear door was up. Two men worked in the back of the vehicle in front of a laptop screen that was lit up like a NASA control room.

Rafe recognized Heng and the man he knew only as Michael Nevin.

He heard Noah's voice in his earpiece. “We need to separate them from that laptop. They can use it to detonate the bombs.”

“Roger that.”

“Copy,” said Derek.

The wind kicked up and Rafe moved closer, the rustle of leaves and the soft, damp earth covering the sound of his footsteps.

Heng typed a command into the computer. “Security's disabled,” he said, his voice clear in the quiet of the night. “From now on the cell tower won't respond to anyone but us.”

“Very good,” Nevin said.

“Two minutes till detonation, then we're out of here.” Heng's smile looked demonic in the light of the computer screen.

Noah spoke softly into his mic. “Let's move.” As a unit, they silently ran forward, appearing like specters out of the night. Being the closest, Rafe body-slammed Heng, knocking him away from the keyboard. Noah grabbed the Arab, spun him around and crashed a meaty fist into his face. Nevin flew backward, sprawling into the wet grass and mud, his body going still with the impact.

Derek went straight to the laptop, used his body to block access, turned to examine the screen.

“One of the lights is blinking. It's asking if it's okay to proceed.”

“It's asking to detonate,” Noah said. “Forgodsake, don't touch anything.”

Heng took off running, Rafe on his tail. Just as Rafe reached him, he whirled and went into a martial arts stance, crouching down, angling both hands up in front of his face. Rafe smiled grimly, his eyes locked with Heng's. The Asian never saw the kick Rafe aimed between his legs, doubling him over, or the hard blow that knocked him backward flat on his ass.

Writhing around in the grass, Heng moaned and clutched his crotch.

“Next time, Jackie Chan, don't bring a knife to a gunfight.” Striding over, Rafe dropped down on top of him, flipped him on his belly, and twisted his arms up behind his back. Derek tossed him a plastic tie and he used it to bind the Asian's wrists.

“We've got to call this in,” Rafe said. “Those bombs are rigged to blow. We can't afford to take any chances.”

“I need a couple of minutes.” Noah leaned down, grabbed the front of the Arab's shirt and hauled him to his feet. “Where's the big guy?”

Nevin was nearly as tall as Rafe, lean, hard, and fit. He spit into the dirt next to Noah's boot. “Infidel dog. You will get nothing from me. You can kill me. It will make no difference.”

Noah must have believed him. Spinning the Arab around, he bound his hands with a plastic tie, then tied his feet and shoved him back down on the ground. He strode over to Heng.

Noah grabbed Heng's bound wrists and hauled him up off the wet grass. “The third guy? Is he still inside?”

“Go to hell,” the kid said.

“That's where you're about to go if you don't answer my question.” Noah pulled his big semiauto out of the holster at his waist and pressed it against Heng's right thigh. “One more chance. Where's the big guy?”

“Fuck off.”

Noah pulled the trigger and the kid shrieked in pain.

“College graduate, right? Scholarship, right? Nice Midwest family? You really want to die for this shit? Now . . . where . . . is . . . the big guy?”

“He . . . he's heading for the rendezvous point,” Heng sobbed out.

The Arab started cursing. All the words weren't in English but their meaning was clear. “You will be punished for your betrayal, filthy traitor,” he said, spitting at Heng.

Noah kicked him, knocking him back in the grass, then returned his attention to the Asian. Blood soaked the side of the camouflage pants he was wearing. Noah was Delta. Rafe figured if he'd wanted the kid to die, he'd be dead.

“What's his name?” Noah asked.

“Cain. Darius Cain. I can't believe you fucking shot me!”

“Where's the rendezvous point?” Noah asked. When the kid didn't answer, Noah pressed the muzzle of his gun against Heng's left thigh. “Where is it?”

“Wait!” Heng started crying. “There's a boat at the turnout off Dayville Road. They . . . they're waiting for us there.”

BOOK: Against the Tide

7.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

ads