Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service) (20 page)

“We have to find out where they’re taking
Jimmy. I have to get more information. Stay close.”

Cole crouched his way past the front
entryway, avoiding the surveillance cameras as best he could. That was the
advantage of knowing the property so well – he could use this knowledge
to his advantage. On the north side, Cole decided that Katrina would have to be
placed in a safer location so he could do some investigating without having to
worry too much about her. He led her down a path that was relatively secluded
from view of the mansion and pulled her down into the brush. Still wearing a
damp bikini, Katrina grew chilled despite the warm sunshine.

Cole pivoted on his feet and faced her as
they crouched. The cedar hedge was high enough that they could stand, but
somehow being lower seemed safer. “I want you to stay here. It’s too dangerous
to get any closer. That’s my job. I need your help though.” He thought it best
to give Katrina a role so she would stay focused and stay alert.

“Anything,” she waited.

“I need you to cover me. Be my eyes at a
distance. If you see anyone coming, you have to signal for me by waving an
arm.”

“I can do that.”

“I’ll be back. And like I said before, if
there’s a problem, you run to George’s cottage, call that number I told you,
and get off the property as quickly as you can and find a safe place to hide
until help arrives. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Cole asked her to repeat the number once
more just to make sure and then he kissed her for strength and reassurance.
“You can do this.”

Turning, he ran toward the house and
crouched beneath one of the open windows of the study. It was the sound of
muffled voices that drew him to this particular window. Taking a quick peek, he
noticed three men before ducking down again. Cole’s heels dug into the soft
earth of the flowerbed as he waited patiently for information. He was not
disappointed.

“Sure, Wilco, whatever you say.”

Cole could feel the vibration of a large
man’s footsteps as he lumbered away and slammed the door.

“What an idiot,” Wilco chuckled to the
other man. “Lets round up the women and put some fear in them. Make em’ think
we’re going to do something nasty to them so they stay quiet. I love to see the
fear in someone’s eyes just before something bad happens. There’s nothing
better.”

“You’re a sadistic bastard, Wilco.”

“Yeah, Gatten, I am. My time in solitary
confinement led to some vivid fantasies, things that’d make even you cry like a
baby.”

“Hey, I could take anything you throw at
me.”

“Good. I obviously picked the right
team.”

Cole heard a phone ring.

“What?” Wilco answered on the second
ring. “Gatten, get out.”

As discretely as possible, Cole peered
through the window and saw the back of Gatten as he opened the door and left,
closing it behind him. Cole could now confirm that Gatten was the man with the
dark goatee from the golf cart.

“How’s the money transfer going on your
end?” Wilco paced a little, his back to the window. “What do you mean delays? I
want this wrapped up so we can disappear fast. I promised these guys they
wouldn’t be heading back to jail if I could help it. Promised them they’d be
living on an island like this one soon.”

Wilco turned and slowly walked toward the
window, looking out at the crystal blue that stretched ahead of him endlessly.
Cole brought himself down and pressed his back into the stucco, acutely aware
of the man standing just above him.

“Don’t ‘David’ me, you can’t treat me
like a child. Yes, I know these things take time, but make it happen. You got
me into this. I’m doing this for us. You told me your plan was foolproof and
now who’s the fool? Maybe it’s me.”

Cole wondered who it was. An inside
person? The mastermind behind the crime? He inched closer, straining to listen.

“We told each man they’d get a hundred
grand. I don’t want them knowing what the amount the ransom payout really is.
You know how they are; they’d probably turn on us and rob us blind. They have
to be kept in the dark,” Wilco ordered.

Cole could hear the man pace, the
vibrations drawing close and then retreating repetitively. The pause was
lengthy, the person on the other end obviously talking considerably. When Wilco
finally spoke again, his voice was lower than it had been and Cole had to lean
in closer to the window and strain to hear.

“It takes time, but I’ll do some harm if
I have to. Trust me, I’ll do anything for five million, even kill a kid as long
as I get away with it. Means nothing to me.”

Cole swallowed hard as he thought of
Jimmy.

“Yes, I trust you. I just don’t want to
go back to the slammer for this. I’ll be in there for life. I don’t want to
start killing people around here either, but like I said, if I have to…”
Wilco’s voice grew hard with an edge of exasperation. “Yes, let me know. I’ll
be waiting.”

Cole heard the phone snap shut and the
man let out a long slow breath. There was silence, but he could sense the man
standing at the window, perhaps thinking as he admired the view. “Bitch better
get it done,” he muttered before turning with purpose away from the window, his
footsteps receding as he left the study. Cole pivoted on his heels again, still
crouching as he looked toward Katrina’s hiding place. He lifted a finger
indicating that she should stay put and he’d be back in a second.

Staying low, he skirted the building
behind the thick brush and approached another window. This one was closed, but
it would offer a clear view of the living room. Cole raised his eyes to pane
level cautiously. He glanced quickly, taking in the scene. Helene and Edward
Greenbaum were huddled on the plush white leather couch with Noah and Zachery
between them. Cole noticed their pained expressions. They were watching a tall
man wielding a submachine gun pace the floor in front of the large window. As
the man switched direction, Cole ducked below the sill and held his breath.
Again, he could feel a slight vibration from the heavy footsteps and sensed the
man was looking out the window.

The footsteps receded and Cole brought
his eyes up over the sill again. He noticed another man with a gun standing at
attention at the back wall. Three here, one in the back room. He assumed it
would just be the two men with Jimmy. So six men in total. Should he risk
taking them all out himself? That would jeopardize the hostages. But, he could
focus on Jimmy. Yes, that’s what he would do. The boy was in the most danger
since there were no witnesses to his treatment. With the volume of hostages
here, there was power in numbers and the captors were likely to be more
cautious. But for Jimmy, it was anything goes and he was vulnerable.

‘But there in lies the problem,’ Cole
thought. How would he find out where they were keeping Jimmy? While trying to
reason it out, Cole noticed movement to his right and in the distance he saw a
seventh man dressed in black sauntering down the flagstone path in Katrina’s
direction, gripping his machine gun confidently.

Cole knew that if he emerged from his
present location, everyone in the living room would see him and his cover would
be blown. He would have to double back. Pulling out his gun and running low,
Cole ran back toward the study and then crossed the path in Katrina’s
direction. As he approached, he saw the man leading Katrina out of the bushes
with her hands raised. He nudged her bare rib with the point of the gun.

“The boys are gonna love what I’ve found.
A nice little prize hiding in the bushes.” The man eyed Katrina in her bikini.
“You’ll offer a bit of entertainment while we wait for the cash. Get moving.”

From a distance, he saw Katrina’s face
contort in fear and his rage grew uncontrollably. When Katrina spotted Cole
approach from behind, her face couldn’t hide her relief and the wiry man
instinctively turned in Cole’s direction. He naturally led with the gun and as
he turned, Cole grabbed it and punched him simultaneously, knocking him off
balance and confiscating his gun in one fluid motion. Bewildered yet still
conscious, the man struggled to get back to his feet. Katrina took a few steps
back as he flailed around, half crawling until he found his footing and came up
into a half run. As Cole ran after him, Katrina looked toward the mansion,
certain they would be seen. She was thankful for the wall of cedar hedge that
separated their position from view. Cole tackled him into the grass, landing
squarely on him with a strong hand clasping his mouth. The man’s eyes were wide
in fear, his breathing heavy.

“Where’s the boy?” Cole demanded through
clenched teeth.

The man shook his head and raised his
eyebrows, denying Cole his answer.

“I’ll ask you again, where did they take
him?”

Again, the man shook his head and
remained silent. Cole’s swift jab to his stomach made him fold in agony. It
took a moment for him to regain his breath.

“Where?”

Cole released his hand slightly so the
man could talk.

“A motel near some park. I don’t know the
name.”

Cole hit the man again.

“I swear, I don’t know!”

Katrina hunched down beside Cole, leery
and looking over her shoulder constantly. “What are we going to do with him?”

Before he could answer, the man managed
to free his arm and as he did he pulled a knife from his pocket and swiped at
the air in front of Cole. Cole pushed his arm back, knocking the knife from his
grip and hit him in the face again. They struggled, rolling in the grass as
Katrina stood back helplessly. With a swift move, Cole moved the man’s neck in
a direction that was silent yet deadly and he fell limp into the grass.
Shocked, Katrina’s mouth gaped as she watched Cole take his wrists and drag him
into the thick brush at the side of the property. His body was completely
hidden from view. When Cole emerged from the thicket, he carried the man’s
walkie-talkie.

Without a word, Cole took Katrina’s hand
and led her toward the garage with the remaining SUV.

Chapter
Fifteen

When they entered the immaculate four-car
garage, they suddenly heard a man’s voice crackle to life on the walkie-talkie.
Cole turned the volume up and listened.

“Holden, are you there? Come in Holden.
Any activity?”

Katrina looked over at Cole in a panic.
“They’ll know something’s off if we don’t answer.”

“True.” Cole had to agree that Holden not
answering would certainly cause suspicion and paranoia among the captors. It
was not a good situation for the hostages to have edgy, irate men with nothing
to lose guarding them. “We’ll have to write a note impersonating Holden.”

“And say what?”

“That he couldn’t handle the pressure,
that he decided to leave, that he wanted out, whatever we need to write to
convince them.”

The voice on the walkie-talkie demanded a
response. The man’s voice was growing more and more agitated.

“We need a paper and pen though,” Katrina
looked around, frazzled by the immaculately clean garage with not a trace of
anything useable.

“The SUV’s open. Maybe we’ll find what we
need.” Cole opened the door and rummaged through the glove compartment.
“Jackpot.” Pulling out a pen and pad of paper, he chicken-scratched a brief
note explaining Holden’s absence. Folding it, he tucked it into his breast
pocket. “I have to shove this under the front door somehow.”

Discretely closing the door of the SUV,
Cole leaned his back against the vehicle and faced Katrina. He could see the
goosebumps from a few feet away. “Come here,” he motioned for her to enter his
arms. Stepping forward, Katrina brought herself against him as he wrapped his
arms around her back. “We have to find you some clothes. I’m sorry I didn’t
grab you anything inside. I was a little distracted by what was going on.”

“That’s okay.” Katrina nuzzled into the
spot below his chin, comforted. “Can we take the SUV and get the hell out of
here? I’m willing to smash through the front gate if that’s what it takes.”

“I know that sounds like a logical thing
to do, but we can’t or the captors will panic. There’s no telling what they’ll
do to the hostages then.”

“You’re right. But we can’t stay in this
garage forever.” Looking out the open garage door, Katrina noticed the haze
hovering above the cliff. The sun was already starting its descent in the late
afternoon and it wouldn’t be long now before it grew dark. “It’s already almost
five,” she said, looking at her sport watch. “We don’t have much daylight
left.” Being November, the sun always began to descend around this time, and
quickly.