Brent: Military Heroes (The One I Want Series Book 2)

by Ellie Masters

  "What are we going to do?" She clutched at his arm.

  "My friend is on the way."

  "He'd better get here quick."

  Brent paused. "She will."

  "She?"

  "Yes, Commander Erika Black is an old friend of mine."

  A surge of jealousy raced through Brie—at a time like this?—but she silenced those thoughts. Brent hadn't given her any reason to think she wasn't the reason the sun rose and set in his world.

  They both had pasts. It wasn't her fault her past had very little in it to brag about.

  He placed his hand over hers and lowered his voice. "Erika is an old friend. Nothing more."

  She ducked her head, ashamed of her jealousy, but more so because he picked up on it.

  "I want you to hide." He pointed to an impossibly small space between the starboard engine and the hull.

  "Brent..." Her gripped tightened. "There won't be any hiding. They know we're here."

  He let out a frustrated sigh. "Just stay behind me."

  There wasn't enough room in the engine bay to do anything but stand behind him, not that she was going to argue the point, but her heart fluttered with the knowledge he would protect her.

  Brent stood a little sturdier, and his hand felt steady over hers. She eased back, releasing her death grip on his arm, and worked as far back into the engine bay as possible.

  Help was on the way. All they had to do was wait for the Coast Guard.

  But then what?

  Doors crashed open and banged shut. Men searched, working their way back.

  The door to the engine bay shuddered beneath a kick. A second kick twisted the door in its frame. It crashed open on the third hard kick.

  She and Brent stared down the barrel of an AR-15 and into the hardened eyes of a mercenary dressed all in black. A dark mask covered his face as he stood in the doorway and leveled his weapon at Brent's chest.

  "Hands where I can see them." He gestured with the gun.

  Brent glanced over his shoulder and sucked in a breath. "I love you."

  She clutched at her stomach, stunned by his words, but feeling their truth in every molecule of her body.

  "I love you, too."

  He reached back and took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze, before letting go.

  "Leave the girl." Brent took a step forward.

  "Hands up, palms on your head. You blink and that's the last thing you do." The man waved the gun to the side and shifted his attention to her. "Don't move."

  She held her hands up and out, terrified as Brent placed his hands on the top of his head.

  All they had to do was stall, but would they have enough time?

  Another man appeared behind the one at the door. He too had a gun trained on them. The first man lowered his weapon and handed it off to the one behind him. A third man stood behind the second. The first man's gun passed between them, until the third held it.

  "Turn around." He pulled out a set of zip ties from his pocket. "Lady, take two steps back. Don't try anything. And keep your hands where I can see them."

  She complied.

  With Brent facing her, she kept her focus on him rather than the men behind him. The emotion spilling from his determined gaze told her everything she needed to know. He would do anything to make sure they made it out alive.

  She backed up against the bulkhead, hands up and out, while the man approached Brent.

  Brent didn't fight as the man secured zip ties around his wrists. The man yanked Brent, spinning him until he faced the second man. That one backed up. There was some jostling in the narrow quarters, but eventually, they marched Brent out of the engine bay and down the hall, leaving her alone with the first.

  “You don't have to do this.” She tried reasoning, knowing it was futile.

  "Turn around." His tone brooked no nonsense.

  With much more care than he had shown Brent, he zip-tied her wrists behind her back, then led her above deck where she joined Brent.

  Donald sat on one of the storage boxes and clutched at his ruined leg. His glare had her catching her breath. Two of the men aimed their guns at her and Brent. Another two sifted through what little they’d brought on board in the trays.

  The fifth man stood beside Donald. “Is this it?”

  The two men sorting through the trays stacked gold and silver ingots into black bags.

  “There’s more down below,” Donald said, “but we have a problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  Donald jerked his chin toward Brent. “He called the Coast Guard.”

  “Shit.” The one who appeared to be in charge pointed to the two sorting through the bins. “Grab what you can.” He pointed to one of the men guarding her and Brent. “Check the radar. See how much time we have.”

  The man guarding her lowered his weapon and trotted up to the bridge.

  She stood with Brent, scanning the horizon, but found nothing. They were alone with no help on the way.

  Donald performed first aid on himself, bandaging up the wound from the spear gun. Brent leaned over and kissed the crown of her head. They may be cuffed, with guns trained on them, but in that moment, Brie felt calm.

  “The Coast Guard is ten minutes out.” The man in the bridge shouted as he clambered down the short steps to the main deck.

  The news gave a little kick to her heart.

  “Well, this changes things.” The man in charge held his gun as he looked around the deck. His hardened eyes landed on Brent and Brie. He pointed to the men going through the trays. “Transfer all of that over to the boat. Grab any documents or hard drives.”

  Brent tensed beside her. All his research was on those drives. His gaze darted between the men, lingered on Donald, and pinched tight with pain. She couldn’t begin to understand the depths of that betrayal.

  The man in charge turned his attention to Donald. “This doesn’t erase your debt. The boss won’t be happy.”

  “We can go down and get more…” Donald said.

  “There’s not enough time. You’d better hope that’s enough to erase what you owe.”

  He gestured to the other men who loaded what had been recovered into sturdy bags. One by one, they transferred the treasure over to the cigarette boat. One of the men went down below, loud banging sounded as he searched. Another returned to the bridge. He exited a moment later with Brent’s laptop under his arm and maps rolled up in his hands.

  “Got everything I could find,” he called out.

  “Good. Get it on the boat.” The one in charge glanced at his watch. “Seven minutes. We’re out of here in five.” He pointed to the two of them. “Tie them up.”

  “What are you going to do with them?” Donald’s eyes widened.

  “We’re scuttling the boat.” He pointed again, issuing orders. “Find something to start a fire.”

  Donald hobbled beside the man, struggling to stand on his injured leg. “Why are you doing that?”

  “The Coast Guard will have to rescue them—if they get here in time—which will keep them off our backs.”

  Donald glanced over at her and Brent and bit his lower lip.

  The men rushed around, transferring treasure and Brent’s research into the cigarette boat. One of them had her face Brent and ordered them to their knees. He wrapped a line around them, tied them up, then pushed them over on their sides.

  Brent’s hot breaths heated her skin and she tucked her head beneath his chin. He murmured something, something she didn’t understand, but the overpowering reassurance of being with him helped to keep her calm. They would get out of this.

  Over the water, a deep chugging sounded along with the harsh blare of a horn. Brent’s friend had arrived, but would they be too late?

  “Everyone off!” The leader shouted.

  Men climbed down into the cigarette boat and Donald hobbled over to the side. The man in charge lifted his gun. “Not you.”

  “What do you mean, not me?”

  “You fucke
d this up. We don’t reward screw-ups and we certainly don’t leave witnesses.” He cocked his gun and aimed it at Brie.

  Donald lunged as the man fired, taking the bullet meant for Brie. He collapsed on the deck and didn’t move. As the man aimed for her again, machine gun fire peppered the deck. With a frustrated grunt, he pulled his shot and leapt down into the cigarette boat.

  Gunfire exchanged between the men on the boat and the US Coast Guard.

  Brent rolled her, trying to get her out of harm’s way. A loud pop sounded and a flare arced over and toward the stern. It hit the small rib secured near the back of the Pendragon, setting the rubber of the small boat on fire.

  “Shit!” Brent exclaimed. “I can’t get to my knives.”

  She couldn’t get to hers either. Tied, facing each other, with their hands behind their backs, they were helpless.

  “If that fire gets to the gas tank of the rib,” Brent said, “the whole thing will blow.”

  The cigarette boat leapt out of the water, sending a huge rooster tail into the air as it raced away. More gunfire was exchanged between it and the Coast Guard as the back of the Pendragon burned.

  Donald dragged himself across the deck. “Your knife.” He wheezed. “Give it to me.” He held out a hand to her.

  “You’re crazy if you think I’d give you a knife.” If she’d been able to, she would have kicked him.

  “I’m trying to cut you free.” He coughed red spittle and left a trail of blood behind him as he pulled close.

  “Why? After you tried to kill me?”

  Donald turned his attention to Brent. “This is all fucked. Brent, I never meant for this…” He stretched out a hand. “I’m so fucking sorry. Tell her to give me a knife.”

  “I’ve got one stashed in my belt.” Brent wiggled, shifting closer to Donald.

  She kept her thoughts to herself, not trusting Donald not to stab them, but she did trust Brent.

  Donald’s hand shook as he pulled the knife tucked beneath Brent’s waistband free. It took several tries. Donald’s strength faded. From the amount of blood on the deck, she was surprised he was still alive, but he finally cut through the rope binding them, then sliced through the zip tie shackling Brent.

  Brent took the knife from Donald and cut through her restraints. Rubbing her wrists, she worked the circulation back into her hands, then rushed for a fire extinguisher. Brent cradled Donald in his arms as she went to battle the blaze.

  The Coast Guard did not take chase with the cigarette boat, but continued on an intercept with them. Intense heat from the fire kept her from getting close enough for the extinguisher to work.

  A second later, a deluge of water rained down on her, flooding the deck with seawater. The cutter had opened its hoses to put out the blaze, drenching her in the process. When she turned around, Brent cradled Donald in his arms.

  Behind her, water poured onto the deck. The Coast Guard seemed determined to drown out that fire. She went to Brent as the cutter disgorged its RHIB, a rigid inflatable boat for rescue and interdiction work. The RHIB pulled alongside and several crewmen boarded the Pendragon.

  “How is he?” She bent beside Brent, not sure what to do.

  “He’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what to say. Was she sorry that the man who tried to kill her died? She wasn’t, and yet grief pulled at Brent. She didn’t understand it, but felt his pain.

  “I don’t understand why he did what he did, but there is more going on than we know.”

  Uniformed personnel from the Charles Sexton boarded and came at them, weapons at the ready but not aimed.

  “Brent Calloway?” One of them asked.

  Brent lifted an arm. “That’s me.”

  “Is the ship secure?”

  Brent gave a nod. “They all left on that boat. Why aren’t you going after them?”

  “It’s being handled, sir,” the crewman said. “Commander Black says we’re to render aid.” He glanced at Donald. “We have a medic on board.”

  “It’s too late. He’s dead.” The flatness in Brent’s voice hinted at the depths of his grief.

  Brie didn’t know what to do, or how to support Brent, but she would stand by his side. The entire situation made no sense, but she wrapped her arms around him. It was the only comfort she knew how to give.

  The tension in his body eased and she stayed close, never leaving his side, as the Coast Guard put out the fire.

  Chapter 25

  Brent

  The next morning, Brent stood on the deck of the Pendragon and said goodbye to his good friend, Erika.

  “Are you sure you’re comfortable continuing?” Erika scanned the damage done to the back deck of the Pendragon. She didn’t look convinced. In fact, her entire demeanor said she was ready for a fight.

  He was happy to let Erika get to it. Somewhere out there, five men had stolen his treasure and with it all of his research. They had everything, at least for now, but he wasn’t an idiot.

  Erika knew this. He turned over the access codes which would allow her to track the thieves. The moment they opened his laptop, she would know exactly where they were.

  This game was far from over, but he would leave the investigation to Erika and her crew. He had a treasure to recover before anyone else tried to steal what remained.

  “I have all my gear and the fire was limited to the rib,” he said. “Except for it, nothing was damaged, and to be honest, I want to finish before those men bring reinforcements. The thought of losing any more of the history beneath us is tearing me apart.”

  Fine wisps of ebony hair escaped her tight regulation bun and fluttered on the light breeze, framing Erika’s face, and bringing a smile to his.

  Beside him, Brie remained oddly quiet. He didn’t understand her silence. Erika posed no threat.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Erika said.

  “I wish I shared your confidence.” Brent squeezed Brie’s hand and tugged her to his side. He found breathing easiest with Brie as close as possible. “You sure you can’t stick around?”

  “Wish that we could. What you’re doing is amazing, but we have your friend’s body to take to the authorities and our mission never stops. This area is under surveillance. If any suspicious boat activity encroaches, we’ll send help. We’ll never be far away. In the meantime, you know what to do.”

  He grinned. Erika had listened to him obsess over sunken Spanish fleets since high school and over the years whenever they met the Bear Creek gang for reunions. She understood what this treasure meant to him.

  Erika thrust out her hand, not to him, but rather to Brie. “You take care of Brent. He needs all the help he can get.”

  Instead of shaking hands, Brie pulled Erika into a hug.

  “Thank you for everything.” Brie’s entire face brightened.

  Knowing Erika as well as he did, he found himself taken aback when Erika allowed Brie to hug her. Erika didn’t do ‘people’ and was most definitely not a hugger.

  They said their goodbyes and the crew of the Charles Sexton left the Pendragon to chase after the thieves.

  Over the past twenty-four hours, in the aftermath of Donald’s death and theft of the Spanish treasure, Brie hadn’t left his side. They spent their first night together, clutched in each other’s arms, and did nothing other than drift off with exhaustion.

  He hadn’t planned on their first night involving anything like sleep, but it felt perfect holding her all night long. He hadn’t slept that soundly in years. With the departure of the Charles Sexton, he turned his attention to Brie.

  What he wanted was to take her down below and ravage her until she forgot her name. Instead, he turned to his dive gear. They’d discussed going down and pulling up the strongbox, but faced a problem. All of Brie’s dive gear was at the bottom. Hopefully, it hadn’t moved from where it had sunk when she ditched it.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  She gave a nod.

  The plan was for him to go
down first, retrieve her gear, then they would dive together and pull up the strongbox.

  With a wave to the crew of the Charles Sexton, he donned his gear and hit the water. Fortunately, Brie’s gear had settled beneath the hull of the Pendragon. Pausing over the cannon, anger stirred at what Donald had done, or tried to do.

  The cannon slowly rocked over the seafloor, still attached to the single lift bag Brie had used to free herself. He didn’t understand what happened with Donald, but in the last few moments of his friend’s life, Donald sacrificed himself for Brie. He could never forgive what Donald did, or the reasons behind it. His friend turned out to be a jealous douche, but for saving Brie’s life, he would try.

  He grabbed Brie’s gear and slowly made his way to the surface. Despite everything that happened, he couldn’t wait to see what was stored in that strongbox.

  Brie said nothing when he pulled her gear on board, but her subdued demeanor spoke volumes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to go down there?” He put a hand on her shoulder and ran the pad of his thumb along her collarbone.

  “I’m good.” Her tight nod and pursed lips said otherwise.

  In this, he would let her take the lead. Any sign of distress, anxiety or a panic attack, he would take over and guide her to the surface. His girl was strong, but not indestructible.

  There was no reason to worry, however, as Brie powered through setting up her gear and jumped into the water.

  “You going to stand there all day?” She glanced up at him with a smile.

  “I’m just taking in the view.”

  “Get in here. Let’s see about some sunken treasure.”

  He took a giant stride and joined her in the water. They left the Pendragon with no one on board, not something he cared to do, but Brie came up with a compromise, attaching a tether to her dive gear. The line leading back to the ship could potentially hamper her movements, but at least one of them would always be attached to the boat. His job was to ensure that line didn’t tangle during the dive.

  They completed their buddy check and headed down. Brie showed no hesitation when she went to tie lines around the cannon. As she secured the lines, he set up the lift bags which would help them move the cannon out of the way. When she gave the thumbs up, he checked the tether attached to the Pendragon, making sure it was clear.