Navy SEAL to Die For (15 page)

Quentin leaned over Geek’s shoulder. “Where?”

“She’s still inside the building.”

“Where in the building?”

“It doesn’t tell me what floor and room she’s in, just that she’s inside.”

Quentin watched the screen with the others, praying for some idea of what the hell was going on. When he couldn’t stand still any longer, he headed for the door. “I have to get closer.”

“You can’t. The place will soon be inundated with cops and the bomb squad.”

“I can’t do nothing.”

“She’s moving!” Kat exclaimed. “Look, the green dot is moving through the building.”

Kat’s excitement drew Quentin back to the screen.

Quentin leaned closer, studying the position of the dot on the street. “She’s outside.”

“She’s outside the front door of the building,” Geek corrected.

“That place has to be crawling with cops by now.” Kat shook her head.

Sam punched numbers into his cell phone. “I’m calling Royce. I hope he can pull strings and get her cut loose.”

“I’m going,” Quentin said.

Kat touched his arm. “You can’t. They’ll have dogs out there. They’ll know you were the one to set off the bomb.”

“Becca could be in trouble.” Quentin shook off her hand. “I can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

“Don’t get close enough they see you. And Quentin—”

Quentin paused at the door.

Geek tossed a hand-held tracking device at him. “Take this.”

Kat held out her cell phone. “And this. Let us know what’s going on.”

Sam pushed her hand aside. “Keep yours. I’ll take mine. I’m going with him.”

Kat straightened. “If you two are going, I’m going, too.”

“I need someone to drive this crate if something goes down and we have to move.”

Sam gripped her hands. “Kat, you’re a better driver than I am.”

“That’s not what you tell me when I’m driving cross-country.” She shook her head. “Fine. I’ll stay. But don’t let anything happen to you guys or our Becca.”

Quentin couldn’t wait any longer. He was out the door and halfway down the street before Sam caught up to him. They dodged between buildings and came out a block and a half away from the CIA building where several police cars, a bomb squad truck and a line of fire trucks were pulling in.

Glancing down at the tracking device, Quentin took a moment to orient himself with the dot on the screen. A car raced past on the street, barely missing him, when he realized Becca’s dot was moving. Fast.

“Damn!” He spun and took off running after the car. “She’s in that car.”

“Quentin, you can’t catch them on foot,” Sam called out from somewhere behind him.

The car turned left at the next block.

Quentin cut down an alley between two buildings and emerged in time to see the taillights of the vehicle blink red as it slowed to turn right onto another road.

He ran until his lungs burned and his legs cramped, but he couldn’t stop. Becca meant more to him than he’d previously realized. The smart, sexy, kick-ass woman had crawled under his skin like no other. He’d get her back if it was the last thing he did.

Chapter Fifteen

Becca lay in the backseat, struggling to regain control of her limbs. Eventually she was able to wiggle a toe, then another. She flexed her fingers and moved her jaw. Forcing air past her vocal cords she hummed, then tried for words.

“Can’t.”

“The effects wearing off, are they?” John said.

“Can’t.” She managed to swallow, forcing moisture down her throat and thoughts to congeal. “Get. Away. With. This.”

“What’s that?” He laughed. “You have something I want. I have ways of getting the information out of you. It’s part of the job description. You know, the part they don’t advertise. Interrogation techniques.”

Becca rolled her wrists and moved her arms and shoulders. Before too long, she’d have full control of her entire body.

“The problem with hiring people for a job, they aren’t always as thorough as you would be if you’d done it yourself.

“Take you, for instance. I asked Ivan to take care of you, so what did he do? He sends a sloppy mercenary after you. What was he thinking? What better way to announce to the world that you’re a fool than to shoot down an airplane on American soil?”

“You killed Ivan,” Becca said.

“Damn right I did. After I had him take out Melton. One less person to worry about. I’ll find the rest. Make no mistake. They won’t get to me or anyone else in this deal.”

“What deal?”

“Ah, now that’s where that little disk comes in. I suspect the information on that little storage device is enough to sink several ships. And I don’t plan on being on the Titanic when it goes down. It should also tell me who was involved in the investigation.”

“What investigation?”

“The one your father died for. You’ll have to ask him all about it when you see him on the other side.” John swerved sharply, the motion throwing Becca onto the floorboard. By now she was able to move her hands but they were secured behind her back, and the rest of her body still felt jerky and hard to maneuver.

The vehicle slowed and came to a halt. John got out of the driver’s seat and opened the back door, grabbed her beneath the shoulders and dragged her out.

“I really don’t care where you’ve hidden the disk. If it’s on your person, it will go down with you. If you left it somewhere ‘safe’ its location will be lost with you. I’m tired of all the drama you’ve caused me.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t think the CIA pays me enough to keep my wife in booze, do you? I’ve acquired properties in different countries, I’m retiring next month and I’ll be damned if you sabotage my plans to disappear off the grid before that time.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her down an embankment.

It was dark out, but the city lights made the sky glow enough she could make out trees. They were in a park. By the sound of water lapping at a shore, she guessed they were somewhere along the Potomac River.

Her heartbeat quickened. He was going to dump her in the river while her body was still too dysfunctional for her to get out. She focused on her feet, praying they would move more than just the twinge or two she’d managed thus far. If he threw her into the water, it was deep enough she’d drown.

“Don’t do this, John.”

“I have to.”

“Killing isn’t the answer.”

“How do you know? You have no idea what the question is. Walk a mile in my shoes and you’d come to the same conclusion.” He held her over the water. “Gonna tell me where that disk is?”

Becca knew if she gave him the disk, he’d go after others who were involved in whatever investigation he was so determined to stop. Someone else would be murdered. A father. A mother. Someone’s brother or son. She took a deep breath, knowing her next words would be her last. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Have it your way. At least I’ll be done with you.” He let go of her and she fell.

Becca dragged in a deep breath just before she hit the icy cold water, and sank beneath the surface.

Her world went dark. With her hands behind her back, she had no way of treading water. Her legs were almost useless, her feet the only things moving. And barely, at that.

This was it. She’d always thought she’d die of a gunshot wound or in a fatal car wreck. Never had she imagined death by drowning. Her lungs burned with the need to release the air she held and the frantic urge to suck in another breath. The water was so black she couldn’t tell what was up or down. And the numbing cold...

She thought of her father when he’d taught her how to swim. Of her beautiful mother so full of life before she died in the plane crash. And then she thought of Quentin and everything that might have been had she lived to get to know him better. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to get to know him. What was his favorite food? What sports did he like to play? Did he like dogs or cats? Would he have taken her out on a date had they been regular people with regular jobs?

She kicked her feet, wanting to live so badly she refused to give up. Her foot touched the silty, muddy bottom of the river and she tried to push off to get to the surface, but she couldn’t get much traction when her legs refused to cooperate.

Damn. This couldn’t be the end. She wasn’t ready to die.

* * *

Q
UENTIN
RAN
UNTIL
he couldn’t run any more. A horn honked behind him and he staggered to the side of the road as a van pulled up beside him.

“Get in,” Kat yelled from behind the steering wheel. “Becca’s somewhere ahead along the side of the river. Hurry!”

The side door slid open and Quentin fell inside next to Sam and Geek.

“They stopped in one of the parks along the river.”

Quentin dragged in deep lungfuls of breath, willing his heart to slow so that he could hear over the pounding in his ears. “Whoever has her is going to throw her into the river. Can you make this thing go any faster?” He pushed to his feet and leaned over the back of the driver’s seat.

Kat took a turn so fast the right side of the vehicle lifted off the ground and crashed down as soon as she straightened.

Quentin was thrown into a panel of electronics, jolting his injured shoulder. When he righted himself, he could see the glare of light shining off the surface of water. The river was dead ahead.

“She should be ahead about fifty yards,” Geek called out. “Shut off the lights. We’ll go in on foot.”

Kat slowed the van, hit the switch throwing them into darkness with only the lights of the city providing a dim glow overhead. She pulled into the entrance of the park and turned sideways, blocking the drive for anyone who might wish to exit.

All four of them leaped out of the vehicle and ran toward the water.

A solitary figure stood at the edge of the river. When he heard footsteps behind him, he turned and ran.

Quentin reached him first and tackled him, hitting him hard. The man slammed into the ground, face first. Quentin flung him onto his back and grabbed him by the collar of his tuxedo. “Where is she?”

He laughed in Quentin’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Becca. Where is she?” He lifted the man by the throat and slammed his head against the dirt. “Tell me!”

“I might have seen a woman throw herself into the water. But that was a few minutes ago. I looked but I couldn’t see her.”

Quentin’s heart dropped to the sour pit of his belly. He punched the man so hard it knocked him out. Then he leaped to his feet and ran for the river’s edge.

“Becca?”

He studied the water, looking for any sign. The moon drifted out from behind some clouds and shone down on the smooth surface. A few feet downstream, something moved. Were those bubbles?

Quentin ripped off his jacket and shoes and dove into the water. The chill hit him hard, but he refused to let it slow him down. He swam to where he’d seen the bubbles, tucked his body and dove beneath the surface, his hands out front, feeling for her, praying he’d find her. He didn’t feel anything. Rising to the top he took a deep breath and went down again, his heart aching, desperate to find her.

Then he felt something light and silky float through his fingertips. He pushed deeper and wrapped his hands around hair. Long strands, attached to a head and body. He tugged the hair, pulling her up through the murky depths. When he could get his hands on her body, he grabbed her beneath the arms and kicked hard for the surface.

As he emerged into the cool night air, a scream rent the air.

“Quentin! Look out!”

Headlights blinded him as a vehicle raced toward the water, launched off the bank and plunged into the river mere inches away from where Quentin held Becca in his arms.

A huge splash washed over them like a wave and the water sucked at them as the vehicle sank beneath the surface.

Struggling to keep himself and Becca from going down with the car, Quentin fought to make it to the shore. His lungs burned and his arms and legs strained with the weight of the two of them dressed in formal clothing.

Then Sam and Kat reached out and hooked Becca’s arms, dragging her up the bank to lay her on the grass.

With the last bit of his reserves, Quentin crawled up beside her.

Once Quentin and Becca were out of the water, Sam dove into the river after John Francis’s car.

Quentin didn’t have the strength to help. After running through the streets and then diving in to find Becca, he had hit his limit. If John Francis drowned, so be it. He’d dumped Becca in the river. The bastard deserved to die.

Kat cut through the zip tie around Becca’s wrists and went to work reviving her, pushing the water from her lungs and performing CPR.

Quentin knelt beside her. For every thirty compressions, Quentin sealed his mouth over Becca’s and breathed air into her lungs twice. They repeated the process four times.

Quentin’s heart pounded, his chest hurt and for the first time in a long time, he sent a silent prayer to the heavens.
Please spare her life
.

Becca bucked beneath them, and she lifted her head to cough. She continued coughing until she’d cleared the majority of the river water from her lungs. Then she sank against the grass, raising her hand to cup Quentin’s face. “You found me.”

He laid his hand over hers and smiled. “Geek had you tagged with a tracker.” Quentin didn’t tell her the tracker did no good for finding her in the water. Faith, fate or something bigger and more meaningful than anything he’d ever known had led him to her. He squeezed her hand and helped her sit up.

Kat ran to the river’s edge and watched for Sam.

A siren’s wail sounded in the distance, getting closer.

Sam surfaced again and swam to shore, breathing hard. “Francis’s car is too deep. I can’t stay down long enough to get to him, and the doors are locked.”

Geek ran to the van and returned with an emergency window escape tool. “Use this.”

Quentin followed Sam into the cold water and, tracking the air bubbles, they found the car. Sam used the device to break the window and scrape the glass aside. Quentin opened the door, swam in with the tool and sliced through the seatbelt, grabbed Francis by the shoulder and hauled him through the window.

His lungs burned and he was desperate for air, but he worked his way to the surface. Sam had gone up for air and came back to bring Francis the rest of the way up.

When he emerged into the night air, Quentin sucked in deep breaths and tread water for a few seconds. Between him and Sam, they swam Francis to shore.

Geek and Kat hauled the big man up over the bank and started CPR.

Quentin left them to it and returned to Becca’s side.

A fire truck pulled into the park and stopped, red strobe lights cutting through the night sky. Emergency personnel leaped out, grabbed their gear and ran toward their group huddled near the edge of the Potomac.

The paramedics took over from Geek and Kat, performing compressions and pumping air into Francis’s lungs.

Geek went back to the van and returned with a blanket. Quentin wrapped it around Becca’s shivering body and held her close.

“Are we going to get in trouble for breaking and entering in the CIA building and detonating explosives?” she asked, flexing her bare feet, her shoes lost somewhere in the Potomac. “Even Royce might have a problem on that front.”

“He’s fixing it.” Geek knelt beside her. “They’re calling it an unscheduled terrorist training event. Oh, and he’ll be here in an hour.”

“He shouldn’t be out of the hospital,” Becca said.

Sam chuckled, a violent shiver shaking his body. “The hospital staff had no choice. Royce was leaving whether they discharged him or not.”

“Sam, you need this blanket more than I do.” Becca tried to pull off the blanket.

“No way. I wasn’t nearly drowned like you.” He held up his hand. “Keep it.”

Quentin held her against him, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. She was still shaking.

When the ambulance arrived, he reluctantly released her into the care of the emergency medical technicians. They covered her in warm blankets, started an IV and carried her toward one of the waiting ambulances.

She didn’t need him anymore. The hospital would take care of her, and the man responsible for killing her father was no longer a threat.

Becca reached out her hand. “Quentin.”

He hurried to her side, glad to hold her cold hand in his. “Yeah, baby.”

“Ride with me to the hospital. Please.” She pressed his hand to her face.

He glanced at the medical personnel.

“It’s okay,” said the EMT. “She’s not in immediate danger. We can spare the room.”

“We’ll catch up with you at the hospital,” Kat called out.

Quentin sat beside Becca on the way to the hospital, holding her hand, wishing he could hold it forever. But that would be impossible. He wondered how they could make a relationship between them work, with her on the east coast and him stationed in Mississippi. He could ask for a transfer to one of the SEAL teams based out of Little Creek, Virginia. Then he could see her when he wasn’t deployed on a mission. Whatever happened, he didn’t want this to be the end.

* * *

B
ECCA
HELD
ON
TO
Quentin’s hand like a lifeline. Never had she been so scared of dying, nor had she been so close. What hit her hardest was the realization that even though she’d lost her father, she had so much to live for. Her father wouldn’t have wanted her to grieve her life away. He would have wanted her to live, to find someone she could love as much as he’d loved her mother.