Destination Wedding (11 page)

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Trouble.” Teddy pointed to the screen, then toward the ocean where four small boats were just visible in the gray light. “I was worried about something like this.”

“Who is it?” Bobby Cunningham asked, his voice going thin.

“I can’t be absolutely sure. I mean, they’re not flying flags with their boss’s coat of arms on them. But I was figuring the odds of a sneak attack when I had a look at the list of wedding guests. My best guess is that it’s Stanis Ivanov.”

“Why him?”

“He and Zanov have been rivals for years. He probably came to the wedding to case the joint—and decided that his men could take Zanov’s. Especially if the king of the island is busy entertaining his bride.

“Oh great. Where does that leave Nick and Camille?”

“Up shit creek.” Teddy turned to the radio and tried to call the Decorah agent, cursing again when the signal was still jammed.

“The new guys could take out some of Zanov’s men.” Bobby pointed out.

“There’s that, but Nick and Camille could get caught in the cross fire.

Bobby slapped his fist against the palm of his other hand. “I thought we were in the homestretch.”

“It’s not over till it’s over,” Teddy answered.

“Can we go in there?”

“It’s not like we’ve a lot of men or much firepower,” the Decorah tech countered. “I think we have to stick with Nick’s plan and hope they can get off the island after these guys clear the beach.”

oOo

From their hiding place in the foliage at the edge of the jungle, Nick watched the first boat coming toward the shore. Maybe it had a motor, but at the moment it was running silently with several men manning oars.

Had Zanov brought in reinforcements when his men had come up empty-handed in their search for the wayward bride? If that were true, why would the reinforcements be coming in so quietly?

Nick took Camille’s arm and pulled her farther back into the shadows.

“Who are they?” she whispered as she kept her eye on the incoming boat.

“Not sure,” he answered, wishing to hell he had better information.

“Could my father have sent them?” she asked.

“Not unless he’s totally thrown our plans out the window. He knows that would be dangerous for you. That’s why he agreed to send me in alone.”

“Then who?”

“Maybe someone who thinks that if Zanov is distracted by his nuptials, they can take him out. Like maybe it’s men sent by one of the wedding guests who used the opportunity to case the joint.”

She made a low sound. “Nice. And they’d probably take me out, too, since I should be with him.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you think any of them were acting strange at the reception?”

“Just your typical Russian thugs having a good time.”

“They were all drinking a lot of vodka?”

“Yes.”

“Any that didn’t?”

She thought back. “Maybe one guy. I didn’t catch his name, though.”

The conversation cut off abruptly as they watched the unexpected invasion force come through the breakers. Ten men wearing camouflage uniforms and boots jumped out and pulled the craft up onto the beach. Then they moved the automatic weapons slung over their shoulders to firing position.

“They’re not trying to hide the boat,” Camille whispered.

“I guess they think they’ve got surprise on their side. And I’d say they do.”

Behind the first boat a similar craft hit the beach and more men jumped out. In all, forty tough-looking armed men landed onto the shore. And from what Nick could see, they were better armed than Zanov’s guards.

Camille eyed the boats. “Can we use one of those to get out of here?” she asked.

“It would be hard for one man to row something that big.”

“I could help.”

“It would still be a hard pull. And we’d be sitting ducks if someone saw us from the shore. I think we’re better off swimming. If we have to, we can dive.”

She answered with a little nod.

“When these guys move into the interior, that should distract Zanov’s men enough for us to get away.”

Nick grasped his weapon, waiting. Then he caught his breath as a woman stepped out of the jungle.

Beside him, Camille made a strangled sound.

“Who is that?” he whispered.

“Mary Ann, Zanov’s assistant. You saw her in the living room last night.”

“It was dark, and I didn’t get a good look at her.” The woman was waving a white flag as she approached the men from the first boat.

She spoke in a low voice to one of them, and he nodded. After a brief conversation, she led the men into the jungle—in the direction of the house.

“My God, is she giving them directions?” Camille asked. “I thought she was in love with Zanov.”

“Maybe she was, and the wedding made her really angry. Maybe she switched sides.”

“I did see her make a quick phone call in the living room.”

When Mary Ann and the invading force had passed, Camille gave him a questioning look. “Is it safe to go now?”

“Better wait a few moments,” he cautioned. “Zanov’s patrols could still be in the area.”

No sooner had he said the words than they heard gunfire—coming from one direction and then the other. The invaders had encountered the island’s security force, and the two groups were engaging each other.

“Okay. We get the hell out of here now,” Nick said, handing her the transponder. “Clip this to your shirt, then make a run for the water, and I’ll cover you. After you’ve cleared the breakers, kick off your shoes and pants, and swim straight out.”

“Okay.” She bent low, running for the water. But when she’d gotten halfway across the sand, a party of men rounded a curve in the island. They were wearing the uniforms of Zanov’s security force, all except one of them, and Nick saw that it was the Big Z himself, personally supervising the frantic search.

His face was a mask of anger as he focused on the bride who had escaped his clutches. He said something to his men, who pulled up in formation around him. Then he addressed Camille.

“You bitch,” he shouted, his Russian accent thicker as fury overwhelmed him. “If you think you’re getting away from me, you’re wrong.”

“If you think you can kidnap a woman and force her to marry you, you’re crazy,” she shouted back.

His eyes flashed as he studied her and Nick, taking in their rough appearance. “What were you doing, fucking your lover—Nick Cassidy—in the bushes last night?”

He heard her draw in a quick breath, but she answered, “He’s not my lover. He never has been.”

Zanov laughed. “My contact at the estate says you’ve been intimate with him for months.”

“Your contact is dead wrong,” Nick corrected.

Zanov laughed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you were hot for each other. I know you must have been doing it. Maybe not in the house—but out on the estate grounds. Like last night.” He went on, his face reddening and his rage building as he addressed Camille. “I was willing to overlook your indiscretion when we married. But now, if I can’t have you, nobody can.”

Camille blanched as she listened to the threatening words from the man who had wed her the day before—and claimed he loved her.

“Go,” Nick shouted to her, firing his automatic rifle at the security force. He didn’t think he had much chance of getting out of this alive. But Camille could make it to the Minerva.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nick stayed between Zanov and Camille, standing in the open, firing at the approaching men who were now running down the beach toward them. As bullets hit the ground only a few feet in front of him, he reached in his pack, pulled out a grenade and lobbed it at the advancing guards.

It exploded with a loud crack, knocking the men in front to the ground.

When Nick saw that Camille had turned and was running toward him, he felt his whole body go cold. “Get in the goddamned water. Get out of here,” he shouted.

“I’m not leaving you.” She still had the weapon he’d given her last night, and she started shooting at the advancing force, the handgun not much competition for the automatic rifles.

Then from the jungle, more gunfire erupted, and some of the men who had been shooting at Nick turned toward the unexpected threat. It must be the invaders, drawn by the firefight.

Some of the cammy-clad newcomers burst out of the foliage, firing at the defending force.

The rest of the security force focused on the new threat, and the two groups blasted away at each other.

Nick saw some of the men on each side fall, and he helped the cause along with another grenade. Then Zanov himself went down. The newcomers converged on him, firing as they went, and Nick saw the man’s body jerk as bullets hit him.

Camille ran to Nick, and he turned toward her, his face fierce.

“I told you to get into the water.”

“Not without you.”

She looked at his arm and gasped.

“What?”

“You’re hit.”

“It’s not bad.”

“How do you know?”

Because I can still move my arm. He winced as he proved the point. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the breakers. Looking behind him, he saw that the gunfire had stopped.

Zanov and his men lay on the beach, blood soaking into the tropical white sand. Some of the assault team were also down, and some of them had turned and were headed into the jungle. Moments after they disappeared, Nick heard more weapons fire.

One side or the other was winning, but he didn’t give a damn who it was, as long as he got Camille out of here. He kicked off his shoes, and she did the same. They both plunged into a cresting wave, emerging into deeper water.

“Get rid of your pants,” he told her.

They both did, before they began swimming away from the island.

Nick gritted his teeth, then turned over on his back, kicking with his strong legs as he propelled himself farther into the ocean.

“You still have the transponder?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.” But just in case, he pulled out a flare gun and shot a missile into the air.

They kept going, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the island. But Camille stayed beside him. He looked at his arm, thinking that yesterday he’d tossed a bleeding man into the water to attract sharks. So far his wound wasn’t bloody enough to draw them. Still, he wanted some distance between himself and Camille.

“I’m slowing you down,” he said in a grating voice.

“We’re almost there.”

“Can’t be.” Then he looked up and saw the Minerva closing in on them, open water behind it.

The yacht slowed, then came to a stop. Bobby lowered a ladder over the side, and Nick waited while Camille climbed up. Then he hauled himself up the rungs and they both stood half-dressed on the deck.

Bobby looked at the blood that had soaked his shirtsleeve.

“You’re hit.”

“It’s a flesh wound.”

“I’m going to take care of him,” Camille said.

Nick paused to question Teddy. “Who were those guys that attacked the island?”

“My best guess is that it’s Stanis Ivanov.”

“Who?”

“One of the wedding guests.”

“His men killed Zanov,” Nick said.

Bobby gave him a critical look. “We were watching the action. They almost killed you.”

“I had to make sure Zanov didn’t get Camille.”

Camille turned to the sloppy-looking man. “Who are you?”

“Teddy Granada. Decorah Security, technical support.”

“Nice to meet you. But we’ve got to get out of these wet clothes. And I have to tend to Nick’s arm.”

“Okay.”

“Nick and I will be back, . .” She paused at the entrance to the lounge. “Later.”

Bobby had been standing with his arms rigidly at his sides. Now he turned to Camille, his face etched with apology. “Camille, I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are. We’ll talk—later,” she reiterated, then ushered Nick across the lounge and down the companionway. This was one of her father’s boats, and she knew the layout.

Now that the crisis was over, Nick let her take charge, and she ushered him to the owner’s cabin in the bow, seeing from the unmade bunk that someone had slept there.

“You used this cabin?”

“Yeah.”

Turning on the light, she gave him a critical look.

“Take off your shirt.”

He did as she asked, and she examined his arm. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“Like I said. How do
you
know?”

“Because I volunteered in a local hospital when I was a teenager.”

“Your dad let you do that?”

“He let me do a lot of things before he got hyper about security. But back to your arm. I’m sure the salt water made it feel like hell.”

“Yeah.”

“Wash off in the shower, and then I’ll bandage you up.”

He disappeared into the bathroom without protest, and she took the opportunity to grab a white terrycloth robe from the closet and rush down the hall to another bathroom where she washed the seawater out of her hair and off her body, then hurried back before Nick emerged from the more luxurious head in the owner’s suite, wearing a similar robe.

She pulled out the chair at the dressing table.

“Slip your arm out of the sleeve and sit down.”

Again he did as she asked, and she opened a sterile pack of disinfectant, which she carefully applied to the wound. Then she pressed a bandage in place and secured it with strips of gauze wound around the arm.

“You were up all night,” she said. “You need some sleep.”

“You’re in charge?” he asked.

“For now,” she answered.

He wasn’t quite steady on his feet as he crossed to the wide bunk, pulled back the rumpled covers and climbed under.

“I’m going to call Dad,” she said. “After I get dressed.”

Nick’s eyes were already closed, but they snapped open again.

“Tell him what happened to Zanov.”

“I will.”

He closed his eyes again, and she saw him give up the fight to hang on to consciousness.

Turning, she opened drawers and found underwear and a knit shirt and loose white pants.

After seeing that Nick was asleep, she kicked her feet into sandals and went back to the men who had brought the yacht to her rescue.