Navy SEAL Captive (12 page)

If he did it again, Jenna could aim her hand for his waist instead of his shoulder. Then she could slip the disk into his pocket and be done with the subterfuge. She, Carly and Natalie could get up and walk out of the bar without worrying about being attacked or caught in the act of bugging the boss.

Instead of twirling her outward, Devita pulled her close against him. Though the man wore an expensive suit, tailor-made to fit him, and an expensive cologne, his alcohol-laced breath nearly knocked Jenna over. She fought not to gag and remained pressed to his chest swaying to the music, when they should have been waltzing around the room.

“Tell me, pretty lady. What is your name?” he asked, words stirring the loose hairs at the side of her neck, sending cold chills down her spine.

“I'm Jen...nette,” she finished quickly, unwilling to use her real name, choosing instead to opt for a form of her name to keep it as close to the truth as possible to cover her faux pas. Damn. She'd almost given the man her real name.

He tipped his head. “Jennette. I am Carmelo.” He said it with a flair, his tongue rolling the
r
so easily.

“Nice to meet you.” Hell, would he never swing her out and back so that she could drop the disk?

The waltz ended before Devita could swing her out again, and his hands dropped to his sides. With a slight bow, he swept his hand out in the direction of the bar. “It has been a pleasure. I hope to dance with you again.”

“Thank you.” She let him guide her back to the table, wondering how she would be able to turn or bump into him. Devita walked beside her, his pockets out of reach. There was no way to move her hand closer without making it obvious she was putting her fingers into one.

As they neared the bar, Natalie slipped from the stool. “I'll just make a quick run to the bathroom. Will you watch my seat for me?” she asked. No sooner had she set her feet on the ground than she tripped and banged into Devita, who in turn lurched toward Jenna.

Jenna braced herself for impact, realizing Natalie was setting her up to be crashed into. Her fingers tightened around the disk, afraid she'd drop it if jolted too hard. As Devita stumbled forward, Jenna braced one hand on his chest. The other hand found his pocket and dropped the disk.

One of Devita's men lunged for Natalie, yanking her away from their boss. Another grabbed Devita's arm and helped him upright.

Jenna staggered back, her bottom connecting to the bar stool. She sat down hard. “Oh, my.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips. “Are you all right?”

He nodded once, tugging on his suit jacket to straighten it.

Jenna turned to Natalie. “Are you okay?”

“I'm so sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch Devita's shoulder. “That was clumsy of me.” She glanced at the man who still held her arm in a tight grip. “Thank you for helping me.”

Devita's eyes narrowed for a second at Natalie. Then he turned to Jenna, lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the backs of her knuckles. “Until we meet again.” He executed an about-face and returned to his table.

His bodyguard released Natalie and followed.

Jenna and Carly both hooked Natalie's arms.

“We'll go with you to the bathroom,” Carly said.

“I'm sure I need to powder my nose,” Jenna added, ready to make a run for it. “Are you sure you're okay?”

Natalie giggled, a sound so silly coming from an expert marksman. “I must have had too much bourbon.” Leaning heavily on Jenna and Carly, she pretended to be a little tipsy and let them help her out of the bar and presumably to the bathroom.

Once they cleared the door to the bar and the men guarding it, Natalie straightened and stepped out, heading for the back of the hotel that led to the boat dock.

Jenna fell in step with Natalie. “Time to go.”

Chapter Twelve

Sawyer had been hunkered low in the bougainvillea bush for a good fifteen minutes when he spotted the three truckloads of armed men as they raced toward the hotel.

Devita's guards saw them, too, and rushed forward to meet them before they skidded to a stop in front of the Playa del Sol. Shouts sounded and Devita's men scattered into the darkness, taking up covered positions.

This new development wasn't good. With the women still inside with Devita and what appeared to be a contingent of Devita's rivals on top of them, things were about to go south real fast.

While Devita's men were tied up with approaching trouble, Sawyer saw his chance to fall back and find another way into the building without charging through the front door.

“Rival drug lord rolling up in front of the hotel,” Sawyer said into his headset.

“Thought something was funny. The guards at the corners just ran inside an employee entrance,” Duff reported.

The sound of gunfire erupted in front of the hotel.

“Can we get inside and find the women?” Sawyer asked.

“We can go in the way the guards did,” Duff said.

“Duff and I are going in. Montana, we need you to secure the boat.”

“On it,” Montana replied.

“Quent?” Sawyer paused.

“Here,” Quentin responded. “What's going on?'

“Be ready to bug out ASAP. Devita's rivals decided now would be a good time for gang warfare,” Sawyer said. “Duff and I are going in for the ladies.” He didn't wait for Quentin's response. Instead, he grabbed the door handle for the back entrance and tugged.

“Needs a key card,” Duff noted.

“No, it needs to open.” Sawyer pulled the gun from the waistband of his trousers, aimed at the lock and squeezed the trigger.

A single shot blew open the lock, and Sawyer yanked the door open. The corridor was empty. Carrying his nine-millimeter in front of him, his hand on the trigger, Sawyer ran toward the interior of the building, praying Jenna, Carly and Natalie were already on their way out.

Sprinting down the hallway, he slowed as he neared a junction. One of Devita's men barreled around the corner, glancing behind him as he ran.

Sawyer swung his arm, handgun and all, catching the guy in the throat with the barrel of the pistol, crushing his Adam's apple. The man dropped his gun and clutched at his throat, gasping for air.

Sawyer grabbed his arm, shoved him into a one of the conference rooms and dispatched him with a clean sweep of his knife, all in a matter of seconds.

Back in the corridor, he ran toward the end of the hotel where the bar was located, fear for the safety of the women foremost in his mind. The closer he came, the louder the shouts and screams from men and women desperate to get out of the way of the warring factions.

Once again, he came to a junction and slowed. A scream from around the corner made him pick up the pace. As he neared the corner, more sounds of gunfire made his blood run cold. Was he too late to get Jenna out?

* * *

“W
HICH
WAY
?” C
ARLY
ASKED
.

“I think the bathroom is this way,” Natalie said loudly enough the guards behind them could hear.

They headed across the lobby, toward the rear of the hotel.

Before they reached the back doors leading to the boardwalk and their boat, the glass doors of the front entrance exploded, shards spraying inward, the sound of gunfire echoing off the high ceilings of the entryway.

“Run!” Natalie yelled and took off for the rear exit.

Jenna lifted her skirt and raced after her.

Men burst through the doors they were aiming for, wielding submachine guns, firing at Devita's men positioned in front of the bar.

Becca Smith appeared in front of Jenna and shouted, “This way!” She grabbed Jenna, Natalie and Carly and shoved them down a hallway, out of the melee of shouting men, screaming women and gunfire.

They ran to the end of the hallway, where another corridor intersected with it.

Carly looked in one direction. “Which way?”

Jenna checked out the other end of the corridor. “There.
Salida.
That means exit.” She grabbed Carly's arm and dragged her toward the door. Natalie brought up the rear.

Jenna reached the door first and slammed her body into the lever to open it. The door swung out, and a man dressed all in black brandished a machine gun in their faces and shouted at them in Spanish.

Jenna threw herself to the floor and rolled to the side.

Natalie did the same.

Carly stood frozen.

Becca charged at the frightened woman, hitting her in the backs of the knees, sending her slamming to the hard tiled floor. Then Becca rolled behind a huge potted tree.

The man with the gun shifted his aim downward. Just as he pulled the trigger, he jerked backward, the bullets slamming into the ceiling, nothing but a gurgle coming from his slit throat.

The man fell to the side, and Sawyer waved to the women. “Let's go!”

Jenna, Carly and Natalie scrambled to their feet, kicked off their shoes and ran out the back door of the hotel, following Sawyer to the beach.

The popping sound of gunfire filled the air.

Jenna ran as fast as her bare feet could carry her through the sand, refusing to look behind her, afraid if she slowed, Devita's men would catch up.

Instead of running toward the dock, they ran toward a deserted part of the beach. When Jenna thought her lungs would explode, she spotted the boat Sawyer, Montana and Duff had used to follow them that evening.

Sawyer reached it first and started shoving it toward the water. The tide had gone out, leaving the boat stranded in the wet sand.

Natalie grabbed the side of the boat and helped shove it toward the water.

Carly and Jenna joined Natalie and Sawyer, pushing and shoving the boat toward the sea. It was too heavy and, with the tide so far out, they'd never get it into the water.

About the time Jenna had given up hope, Montana and Duff arrived and threw themselves into pushing the boat out into the surf. A wave rolled in and lifted the hull, giving them just enough help that they could get it out into water deep enough to float.

“Get in!” Sawyer grabbed Jenna and swung her over the side, depositing her in the boat. “Start the motor.”

She landed on the floor of the boat, the wind momentarily knocked from her lungs.

Carly flew over the side and landed next to her, upside down, her feet in the air.

Jenna scrambled to her feet, dived for the driver's seat, fumbled for the key and twisted. The motor chugged to life.

Another wave lifted the boat. Duff slipped over the side and landed in the boat, grabbed Natalie's hand and dragged himself aboard. Sawyer and Montana hauled themselves over the side and into the boat.

“Wait.” Jenna scanned the beach. “Where's Becca?”

“Who?” Sawyer asked.

“Becca. She helped us get out of the hotel.”

“We can't wait,” Sawyer said. “Go!”

A barrage of gunfire settled it for Jenna, and she shoved the throttle to the rear. The small boat backed away from the beach. “What about Quentin?”

“He should be out to sea by now. Just go,” Sawyer called out. He stepped up behind her, bent over and rested his hand on hers over the steering wheel. Together, they spun the wheel around and shoved the throttle forward, taking the little boat far enough away from Playa del Sol to avoid stray bullets.

Or so they hoped.

“We've got a tail!” Natalie shouted.

They rose and fell in the waves as they pushed past the shore and out into the open water.

Bullets flew past them.

“They'll catch us at this rate,” Duff said. “We have more people on board than they do. It's slowing us down.”

“Would it help if I jumped?” Carly asked.

“No!” responded everyone on board.

The boat behind them slowly closed the distance between them. Starlight revealed the men aboard wielded automatic weapons.

“Everyone down!” Sawyer yelled, shoving Jenna to the floor. He hunkered low, but high enough to see over the dash to the ocean ahead. He twisted the steering wheel right, then left, zigzagging through the water. Bullets peppered the hull. Some slammed into the windshield, shattering the glass.

Sawyer tossed his gun to Jenna. “Know how to use one of these?” he asked.

She fumbled but caught it. “Not really.”

“Then drive this boat.”

She slipped in front of Sawyer and took the helm, her hand resting on the throttle, her insides quaking.

“They're coming in range,” Sawyer shouted. “On my mark, I want you to shift the throttle all the way back to Neutral.” He waited until the trailing boat was almost upon them. “Now!”

Jenna pulled the throttle back, bringing the boat to an abrupt stop in the water.

The craft behind them swerved, barely missing them. All the men aboard the other boat teetered, grabbing for purchase as the boat tipped precariously.

Sawyer, Montana and Natalie all aimed their weapons and fired at the other boat. Duff aimed for the motor and fired all of his bullets into the engine. Smoke billowed from the casing and rose into the night sky, fogging the stars.

Sawyer shifted into Forward and spun the little boat away, putting as much distance between them and Devita's men as possible.

Soon he noticed another boat's lights blinking in the night. “Get ready in case it's Devita,” he warned the others.

“I'm out of ammo,” Duff said.

“Me, too,” Natalie added.

Montana released his magazine and reported, “Five rounds. We better make them count.”

“I think I have ten left,” Sawyer said, aiming his weapon at the other boat.

“Hey, don't shoot!” Quentin's voice sounded in Sawyer's ear through the headset. “We just barely got out with my skin still intact.”

Sawyer drew in a deep breath and let it out. He turned to Jenna. “Want me to take the helm?”

“Yes!” Jenna gladly let Sawyer slide in front of her and she eased out but stood beside him, rocking with the waves, staring at the dark ink of the ocean before them. “Is your life always this insane?”

Sawyer slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “Sometimes even more so. Stick around. You're likely to find out just how crazy we are, too.”

* * *

J
ENNA
WAS
HAPPY
to get back to the marina and the luxurious yacht. Quentin and Montana had gone ahead and were waiting when the rest of the team arrived.

“What the hell happened back there?” Quentin asked.

Duff snorted and dropped onto one of the white leather sofas. “We had a little altercation with some of Devita's men. At least, I think they were Devita's. When their rivals showed up, it was difficult to tell who belonged to which cartel.”

“I'm glad we all made it out safely.” Natalie eased into Duff's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Jenna envied Duff and Natalie's ease with each other. She was amazed they'd known each other for only about a week. The woman appeared unruffled by all that had happened, while Jenna's head was still spinning from being shot at and nearly killed. She glanced down at her beautiful dress, a little wrinkled and damp from their dash through the hotel and pushing the boat out into the water. She hoped the salt water didn't stain the fabric.

“The question is, did you tag Devita with the tracking device?”

Natalie grinned and stared across the room at Jenna. “Jenna caught his eye. Apparently Devita likes redheads.”

Jenna's cheeks heated. “The man definitely likes red hair. And yes, I managed to drop the chip into his pocket thanks to some...uh—” her lips twitched “—fancy footwork by Natalie.”

Natalie laughed. “She means I fake-tripped, slamming into Devita, shoving him up against Jenna so she could get her hand into his pocket and drop the bug.”

Carly smiled. “They were amazing. And Jenna was as cool as a professional spy, dancing with the man. You should have seen her.”

Sawyer stepped up behind Jenna and whispered, “I'd rather have been dancing with you.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I never should have let you go tonight. It was far too dangerous.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “And we did just fine.”

“Damn right, you did.” Lance sat at his laptop. “Devita is on the move. Ideally he's headed back to his compound. I'd like to get as much information as I can on the layout before you attempt an infiltration into the lion's den. I think I can tap into one of the CIA's satellites. It should be going over this area sometime in the next couple of hours.”

“Let us know as soon as you get a clear image. The sooner we get to Devita, the sooner we resolve this nightmare,” Sawyer said.

“In the meantime,” Duff said, “we should conserve our energy. We might be infiltrating Devita's compound tonight or tomorrow. Either way, we need sleep.”

Natalie slipped off his lap and stood. “I think it's a safe bet to assume it might not be smart for us to return to the resort at this time.”

“Even if it was safe, it's getting pretty late.” Duff stared around at the people in the room. “This yacht can sleep all of us. I suggest you stake a claim on a room and rest up.”

“I'll take the first watch tonight,” Montana offered. “Lance might need help going through the images.”

“Wake me in four hours,” Quentin said. “I'll take the next watch.”

“All of my things are back at the hotel,” Jenna said. “I could call a cab.”

“No, you're not exactly safe,” Sawyer said. “We still don't know who the assassin is, but he knows who you are. You can't go back in the middle of the night.”

“Each stateroom is equipped with a bathrobe, spare pajamas and toiletries,” Quentin said. “And if you don't have everything you need in your room, the steward's cabin has a supply cabinet with everything from shampoo to spare razors.”