by CW Browning
“Lieutenant Miller.” Blake looked at his watch. “Rob said the Coast Guard will have a crew ready to go once Angela is off the yacht. Do you know how many things can wrong with this?”
“You need to have a little faith,” she said with a frown. “Just because they aren’t the Marines, it doesn’t mean they don’t know what they’re doing.”
Blake glanced at her but was silent, his lips pressed together in a grim line. Stephanie looked at him and sighed silently. It was clear that he wasn’t happy about them being here, but what else was she supposed to do? Just let her two best friends die while she relaxed in a house in the woods?
She turned her gaze out the window and stared at the dark city speeding by. Who knew what Angela had gone through, or was currently going through! And as for Lina, Stephanie was determined that tonight would not be the night that her old friend met her fate. Alina might be of the opinion that this was how her life would most likely end, but Stephanie wasn’t about to let fate have any say in what happened on that yacht. As soon as Angela was safe, she was sending in the cavalry, whether Viper liked it or not.
“When Michael does get Angela off that boat, he’s going to have to get her somewhere safe,” Blake said, breaking the silence. “Until we know for sure that Harry has been...neutralized, she’s going to need to be hidden.”
“We’ll take her back to Lina’s,” Stephanie said. “That’s the only logical place. But to be honest, I don’t think we’ll have time to get her there. I’ve seen Lina work. It’ll all be over tonight.”
Waves lapped at the sides of the speed boat and Michael glanced at his watch, pressing the button on the side to illuminate the face. He was in position and letting the motor idle, waiting for the text that would tell him to proceed. If it didn’t come in the next five minutes, he was to abort. Damon had been very clear about that when he briefed him earlier.
Michael’s jaw tightened and he looked up into the night sky sparkling with a million stars. It was a cloudless, mild night and the breeze across the water was warm. He really couldn’t ask for better weather to attempt his first covert ship boarding. He shook his head. Those were words he never would have dreamed he’d think. He was a Marine, not a sailor. Yet here he was in a boat, waiting for the signal to storm a yacht on the open seas.
All for a woman he promised to keep an eye on twelve years ago.
She certainly wasn’t boring, he’d give her that. Michael lowered his gaze to the plastic dummy laying across the bottom of the boat and felt his lips pull up at the corners. Then he looked at the instrument panel again, focusing on the silently flashing dot that represented the Sea Queen. She was straight ahead, six nautical miles away in the darkness. When he got the signal from Damon, it would take the boat about ten minutes to reach the yacht. Once they saw him, there was no turning back. He was committed to risking his life to save a woman he barely knew.
He must be out of his mind.
As soon as the thought entered his head, Michael sighed. No. He wasn’t out of his mind. He was doing the right thing. It wasn’t Angela’s fault that she was caught up in this, just as it wasn’t Alina’s fault that they were all where they were now. He knew she blamed herself, but in his mind that was ridiculous. She hadn’t arranged for a terrorist to come into the United States and attack Three Mile Island, kicking off the series of events that had led them all here. That was solely the work of Colonel Harry Shore.
His brows drew together and Michael stared out over the moonlit black waves thoughtfully. Why had the colonel done all this? None of it made any sense. He was a war hero, who had committed his military career to doing what was best for the United States of America. What made him suddenly turn traitor twelve years ago? By then he was already well-established in Washington and, as it turned out, busy training men and women to lead the next wave of clandestine security to protect US interests across the globe. Why risk all of that and turn into one of the enemy?
The watch on his wrist vibrated and Michael’s pulse leapt. He pulled his phone out from a pocket on his arm and glanced at the screen.
Go.
He tucked his phone back inside the pocket and secured it again. He touched the leg holster to ensure it was closed and then patted the other pocket at his hip. Satisfied that the suit was sealed properly, he pushed the throttle and the boat leapt forward over the waves. Once he had the speed at a steady forty-five knots, Michael set the GPS cruise control. After checking everything to make sure it was on course and holding steady at speed, he turned to the inflatable dummy laying behind him. Finding the pump, he pressed the button and air began pouring into the plastic, inflating it rapidly. He watched as it quickly took on the shape of a person, complete with tactical headgear and goggles.
Viper hadn’t been exaggerating. The dummy was fully inflated in less than a minute and the pump switched itself off. Michael disengaged it and sealed the intake valve. Then he looked at the life-sized dummy. It was uncannily life-like and he shook his head before wrapping his arms around it and hoisting it over the back of the driver’s seat to place it at the wheel.
“There you go, Bob,” he murmured. “You’re the skipper now.”
Grabbing some nylon cord, Michael quickly secured the dummy to the seat. By the time he was finished, it appeared that the rubber person was actively driving the boat. Sparing only a quick grin at the sight, he turned to the back of the boat and crouched down, peering under the back seat. He pulled a thin flashlight out of one of his pockets and shone it under the bench, illuminating the explosive set up against the back hull.
He glanced at his watch. It was time. After a moment of natural hesitation, Michael took a deep breath and reached out to lift the clear, hard plastic cover protecting the timer. He pressed the button and a digital display popped up, counting down from five minutes.
He switched off the flashlight and slid it back into the pocket. Then, turning to the side of the boat, Michael switched on the tank in the bag Viper had given him. He strapped it onto his back and pulled the mask over his face. After taking a few easy breaths, he glanced at his watch again.
Without another hesitation, he hopped over the side of the boat and plunged into the dark, endless waves of the Atlantic.
Stephanie looked up as Blake joined her, tucking a phone away in his pocket. Before boarding the plane in Philadelphia, Rob had pressed a pre-paid phone into Blake’s hand. Rob was the only one with the number and Blake had taken it gratefully. The lack of communication devices was driving both of them crazy, and Stephanie wasn’t even irritated that Blake was the one with the phone. She was just glad they had one.
“Rob just got off with the Commander,” he told her in a low voice. “He doesn’t want to commit crews to this until he’s sure all the civilians are off the yacht.”
“Agreed,” she said. “That’s what we said from the beginning.”
“Yes, but what he considers off the yacht and what we consider off the yacht appear to be very different things. He’s talking about waiting until morning.”
Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. “That will be too late!’
He nodded grimly.
“I know. Rob said that he was assured that they are monitoring the yacht via satellite and at the first sign of trouble, the Commander will re-evaluate.” Blake looked at his watch. “There is one thing in our favor though. The Lieutenant meeting us was a Marine.”
Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “How does that make a difference?”
Blake grinned at her. “Semper fi, my dear. Semper fi.”
The door to the large recreational room where they had been left to wait opened and a broad-shouldered man with dark hair entered, a clipboard in his hand.
“Agents Walker and Hanover?” he asked, looking across the room.
“Yes.”
“I’m Lieutenant Miller,” he said, striding forward and holding out a hand. “I understand you’re here to see about the yacht hovering offshore.”
“Something like that,”
Blake said, grasping his hand firmly. “I’m Agent Hanover and this is Agent Walker.”
Miller nodded to Stephanie and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Have you received any new information about the Sea Queen?” she asked, shaking his hand. “There’s a civilian being held onboard and I’m worried for her safety.”
Lt. Miller nodded soberly.
“So I’ve been told. As of an hour ago, there’s been no sign of unusual activity. No boats have approached the yacht and no one has left. It’s all quiet.” The Lieutenant looked from one to the other, his dark eyes probing. “My briefing gave me the layout, but why don’t you tell me what you know.”
Stephanie glanced at Blake and hesitated.
“That’s not much, I’m afraid,” he said calmly, his expression neutral. “All we know is that Angela Bolan was kidnapped by the cartel and taken to that yacht. We have no idea why or how.”
“How do you know she was taken aboard?”
“I pulled satellite footage from yesterday morning.”
The lieutenant nodded and walked over to lean against a ping-pong table. He set his clipboard down and crossed his arms over his chest.
“And you have no idea why?”
“No,” Stephanie said a little too quickly, “but I’m sure you understand my concern.”
“Yes, and I share it,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, my hands are tied right now. We’re under orders not to approach the vessel. All we can do is monitor and be prepared to move if needed. The problem is that they’re staying in international waters. We need a clear and present danger to be able to approach, and even then it’s a diplomatic nightmare. Do you know who’s on that yacht?”
Stephanie and Blake glanced at each other.
“The Casa Reinos second-in-command, for one,” Blake finally said. “Who are you referring to?”
“Colonel Harry Shore,” the lieutenant said bluntly. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the Coast Guard falls under the jurisdiction of the Department of Homeland Security. Essentially, our boss is on that yacht.”
Stephanie swallowed hard and sank into a seat. “So you know.”
Something like a smile crossed the lieutenant’s face.
“Yes. We know.” He studied them for a moment, looking from one to the other. “I understand that you want to make sure that the civilian gets off safely, and that the cartel is apprehended. Trust me, I’d like nothing more than to see the same thing myself. Right now, though, we’re in a holding pattern until further notice.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” Stephanie asked, looking up at him.
“It means all we can do is watch and wait,” he said. “Now, I can set you guys up in an office to work from, but there’s not much that can be done yet.”
Blake nodded.
“I appreciate that,” he said slowly. “When you get confirmation that Angela is off the boat, what then?”
The lieutenant shrugged. “Then we can approach if there are indications of danger or illegal activity. Until then, my orders are to stand down.”
Blake looked at him steadily. “You don’t like that anymore than we do,” he said softly.
Lieutenant Miller met his gaze and shook his head.
“No,” he admitted. “But those are my orders.”
“I know about following orders. My company got ambushed once from following orders.”
The lieutenant looked at him with a spark of interest.
“You served?”
“Fox Company, Second Battalion, Marines.”
A rare smile crossed the lieutenants face.
“The Magnificent Bastards,” he said with a nod. “I flew your company a few times.”
Blake grinned. “I saw your bio on the way in. What made you come over to the Coast Guard?”
Miller shrugged.
“I wanted a change,” he said easily. “The Coast Guard needed pilots, and I needed a break from deployment. It was a good move for me. How about you? How did you land with the FBI?”
“I just kind of fell into it. A good buddy of mine discharged and went into the Secret Service. You’d be surprised how many of us ended up in law enforcement.”
Miller chuckled.
“No, I wouldn’t. It makes sense, in a way.” He looked at his watch, then seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Look, I’m about to make an observation run over the Sea Queen,” he said slowly. “Nothing crazy. Just taking a chopper out and doing a pass to make sure they know we’re watching them.”
He paused again and looked from one to the other.
“I know you’re concerned, and rightfully so. Why don’t you come with me? Then you can see for yourself that everything’s quiet?”
Stephanie stood up quickly, leaning on her cane.
“Yes, please!”
“That would be awesome,” Blake said. “We’d really appreciate that.”
Miller nodded and picked up his clipboard, turning toward the door.
“Hey, it’s the least I can do for a fellow Marine,” he said over his shoulder. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you can leave your gear and then I’ll take you up.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Harry knocked once on the door to the bridge before opening it and stepping inside. The room where the captain spent most of his time was spacious and comfortable, resembling something closer to the command center of a spaceship than the bridge of a yacht. Located on the uppermost level, the large room was surrounded with windows that afforded a three hundred and sixty degree view of the ocean around them. Flat touch screen monitors lined the captain’s helm, giving him instant and easy access to all the information needed to ensure a safe and uneventful voyage.
Behind the helm a comfortable sectional wrapped around a table, allowing the crew or owners to sit with the captain and take in the view. It was also where the captain liked to eat, and Harry found him seated with a plate of lasagna and a basket of garlic bread.
“How’s it going, Tony?” Harry asked, glancing at the monitors. They cast a bright and cheerful glow against the blackness of the night outside. “Anything new?”
“No,” Tony answered, swallowing and reaching for a tall glass of soda. “Everything is still quiet.”
“Nothing at all?” Harry frowned and looked at the captain, seating himself across the table from him.
Tony shook his head.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” he said with a shrug. “The radar picked up a boat about seven miles away, but it’s been in the same spot now for about ten minutes. Someone’s doing some night fishing.”
Harry grunted and glanced at the monitors again. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
He was silent for a moment.
“What about flights?” he finally asked. “Any planes fly by?”
Tony shook his head again and forked a mouthful of lasagna into his mouth.
“No. A flight plan was logged from a small airport on one of the barrier islands, but it’s a private plane going down to Palm Beach.” Tony glanced up. “It logged a path over the water, so Roberto followed up on it just in case. It’s carrying some rich playboy and his girlfriend down to Florida. Nothing to worry about.”
Harry was quiet, watching him eat for a moment, then he got up and turned back toward the door.
“Well, let me know if anything changes. It looks like we’re in for another quiet night.”
“Yes, sir.”
Harry left the bridge and made his way down the narrow stairs to the lower level. Where was she? He knew Viper would have marked the location of the Sea Queen by now. He couldn’t have made it any easier for her. They were coasting along the same stretch of ocean constantly, not moving more than half a mile in either direction. He’d made sure that the marina cameras picked up Angela being taken offshore in the yacht tender. Viper knew she was here, so where the hell was she?
He went down the corridor and into the large entertaining area. A bar stretched across the back an
d large, comfortable chairs and sofas were arranged around a coffee table. A seventy-five inch TV dominated the front of the room while the sides offered floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water. The TV was dark and silent now, and Harry picked up the remote, switching it on and looking for a baseball game. Landing on the Phillies game, he set the remote down and went to the bar to pour himself a drink.
She was waiting for something.
The thought popped into his head as he poured bourbon into a glass and he paused, raising his eyes thoughtfully. That was the only explanation. Viper moved quickly, striking before her prey even knew she was on her way. That was her MO. The very fact that she hadn’t come after Angela yet could only mean that she was waiting for something. But what?
Harry capped the bottle again and lifted the glass to take a sip. It wasn’t backup. She worked alone. There was only one person she would ever trust enough to work alongside, and he was halfway across the world in Russia. No. She would be coming alone, of that he was sure.
He sipped his drink and watched the Phillies game absently. The only emotion Viper ever showed was for those two women, which was precisely why he’d targeted them. As soon as she found out Angela was on this boat, Viper should have come straight into his net. Yet she wasn’t here, and he was running very short on time.
Roberto, La Cabeza’s right-hand man, was getting impatient. He had been entrusted with the Sea Queen and he didn’t like how long they were idling in the same spot. He wanted to take Angela to Cuba, where Harry would catch his flight to Montenegro, then sail back to Mexico. Roberto thought La Cabeza would like her. Harry grunted to himself. He was probably right. Angela looked like exactly the type of woman to keep Martese amused, at least temporarily.
Harry set the drink down and turned to leave the room. Angela was the key, whether she knew it or not. Whether they stayed one more night or left in the morning was still to be decided, but it all hinged on her. And he hadn’t checked on her since yesterday.
A few minutes later, he approached her room on the second level. Two men were seated outside the door, one with his phone in his hand, discussing the merits of one brand of phone over another. When they saw him coming towards them, they both stood up quickly and nodded to him.