GUARDIANS: Mission To Rescue Innocence (Beauty 0f Life Book 7)

by Laura Acton

  Brody nodded. “Halfway is a decent start for your first time. About face and haul your ass back to bed before you face plant. We brought more broth, so you need to go sit down anyway.”

  Dan groaned at the prospect of hurling again, but he recognized the out Brody supplied him for not reaching his goal. Pivoting toward his bed, Dan relied more on Mason to hold his weight. He glanced up and met Mason’s eyes, noting only the caring expression he came to appreciate. Mason never treated him as incapable or weak, for that matter, none of the guys did. Once at the bunk, Dan said in a hushed voice, “Need help to sit.”

  Brody positioned several pillows to prop Danny up so he could eat as Mason lifted Dan and settled him on the bed. He retrieved the beef broth and returned to the bedside. “Thought we would try beef instead of chicken.”

  With shaking hands, Dan grasped and lifted the mug to his lips. He took several deep breaths, hoping this time the food stayed down. Inhaling the aroma his stomach rumbled. I’m so damned hungry. He sipped the tepid broth, savoring the flavor. “Tasty.”

  Patch joined the others near Blondie and said, “We’ll do another round of PD tonight. I’m going to sedate you though after the day you had. You need to be well rested if we leave tomorrow.”

  Dan nodded. He hated being sedated, but he recognized the need, and a part of him craved the hours of oblivion … the respite from constant pain. Dan took another few swallows of his clear soup before the inevitable clenching in his gut reasserted itself. Shoving the cup at Brody, he moaned, “Basin,” as the retching began.

  Paris – Dominique Savoy’s Home – 3:00 p.m.

  Jeannette Savoy sat with her feet tucked under her on her living room sofa staring at the photo album. She peered at blurry pictures as she gazed at her sweet girls through tears. Her delicately formed finger traced Nicolette’s and Anna-Marie’s oval-shaped faces as she prayed for their safe return.

  Many moons ago, she was a highly skilled covert operative, but motherhood became more important. Nurturing and raising children with the man she loved provided her everything she desired in life. Without hesitation, she gladly gave up the life of intrigue to focus on their precious daughters.

  Both she and Dom understood the risks they took in the field but neither ever imagined their girls would be at risk. Families tended to be out of bounds for most in their profession. An unwritten rule of sorts … fine to go after other operatives, but children were innocent and therefore off limits.

  Or so she thought until Dom was betrayed by someone in SAS. Without a doubt, Jeannette knew once Dom rescued their sweet ones, he would ferret out whoever divulged his identity and seek vengeance. Her phone ringing interrupted her distressing thoughts. She checked the caller ID and smiled. A friendly voice would offer a distraction. “Bonjour, Harriet.”

  Speaking hastily as always, Harriet Lambourne said, “Hello, Jeannette. I only have a minute but wondered if you are available for dinner tonight.”

  “Not tonight, sorry.” Jeannette wished to spend time with her friend and long-ago boss, but they decided to keep the girl’s abduction under wraps. Keeping quiet would be imperative to finding them.

  “Too busy for a friend? My treat,” Harriet cajoled.

  Jeannette brushed away more tears. Being alone again tonight would be difficult. She wouldn’t sleep until Dom contacted her telling her their girls were safe. What harm would come from having dinner with Harriet? I need to eat. I might as well do it with a trusted friend. Wait, no. What if Dom arrives and I’m not here? I can’t leave. “I’m sorry, another evening perhaps.”

  “How about tomorrow? You can bring your girls,” Harriet offered, sticking the virtual knife in and twisting. She caught the almost imperceptible gasp.

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check with Dom and find out his plans. The girls have been home ill, so one of us needs to stay here.” Jeannette hated to be deceitful with Harriet, but she must tread warily and maintain the pretense for the safety of her husband and daughters.

  Oh, you lie well, Jeannette, but not near as well as me. Harriet offered fake concern, “Oh dear, I’m sorry they are unwell. I’ll whip up Aunty Harriet’s famous homemade chicken soup for the little ones and bring it over.”

  Thinking fast, not wanting to reveal anything she shouldn’t, Jeannette said, “Thank you, but not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow.”

  Harriet became insistent about visiting to check on her goddaughter’s health, and before ending the call, Jeannette assuaged her concerns by agreeing to talk tomorrow. She wanted to tell Harriet the whole story and draw strength from a friend but couldn’t. She set the album on the end table, stood, and aimlessly wandered around until ending up in Nicolette’s room.

  Standing in the center, she slowly turned as she gazed at her thirteen-year-old’s possessions. A poster of her favorite boy band with lipstick kisses on the raven-haired lead singer. A bulletin board chalked full of snapshots with all her girlfriends. Her laptop and diary laying on her desk.

  Jeannette grabbed her pillow and went to Anna-Marie’s purple and blue bedroom. She curled up on the comforter, after moving a menagerie of stuff animals to the side and lay her head on Anna’s pillow as she squeezed Nikki’s. Anna’s bedroom still reflected innocence of childhood. No boy crushes yet, only dolls, animals, and frilly little girl things scattered on her dresser … ribbons, sparkly nail polish, a glittering tiara, and one special item.

  She stared at Anna-Marie’s angel music box, a gift from Yvonne and William at Anna’s birth. It matched the one they gave Becca when she was born. Jeannette missed her daughters so very much and had no clue what she would do if Dom did not find them. A sob escaped as she realized she might experience the same unbearable grief Yvonne did when little Sara was taken from this earth too soon.

  No! I refused to think that way. Dom will never give up so I will persevere too. Dom is a resourceful and persistent man. He will locate our girls and bring them home safely. Even with her renewed conviction, sobs racked her weary, sleep-deprived body, and she cried until she fell into a fitful sleep.

  Al Sattar Palace – Ifran’s Room – 10:30 p.m.

  Ifran entered his bed chambers and began undressing. He had the past three days of mourning to decide what to do with their guest. Unwilling to show his hand, they treated Savelievich as they would any visitor, with considerable hospitality. Although, doing so rankled him and his family.

  Many times, Shareef required calming. His mule-headed and undisciplined brother often challenged his patience. Though he much preferred dealing with Shareef’s hot head and stubbornness to cleaning up after Fakhir. Although Jaasir and Saleet acquitted themselves well in eliminating all the guards who might identify Fakhir, physical evidence had been collected.

  To destroy all evidence, Ifran sent a trusted embassy guard in Russia to set fire to the forensics lab and nightclub. However, before Faadi arrived, their problems resolved themselves. An inattentive officer caused a fire in the lab and someone, most likely those who rescued the children, set the club ablaze.

  Luckily, Saleet had the foresight to have Jaasir pose as Fakhir when they went through security in Russia. Their family resemblance was close enough if one did not peer too closely. Mid-morning on the twenty-ninth, Ifran communicated to the press that Fakhir unexpectedly passed away from anaphylaxis caused by a severe, previously unknown allergy to cherries. A necessary and fitting deception since Fakhir died in the Cherry Club.

  The only loose end Ifran needed to check on was financial transactions which might link the family to Savelievich. Fortunately, he held little worry regarding the possibility since his father long ago set up accounts for Fakhir which would not be traceable.

  Ifran lay down next to his wife and smiled up at the ceiling. Tomorrow he would be released from his mourning period and could begin exacting vengeance for Fakhir’s death

  Sacred Heart Abbey – Unit’s Room – 2350 Hours

  Brody sat on his bed with knees pulled close and lightly banged his head on
the wall behind him. A boat. A goddamned yacht out in the middle of the friggin Caspian Sea. What the hell am I going to do? I promised Danny to help him through this without revealing his fear of water to the rest of the guys.

  Not fond of deep water himself anymore but Dan was terrified. Having drowned, well, technically almost drown, gave Danny a right to be afraid. The hazing years ago went terribly wrong, and precipitated Dan’s phobia.

  Goddammit! How am I gonna help Danny? His ego has taken too many blows in the last seven months. Though Danny perceives this a weakness, our brothers won’t, but I can’t give up his confidence and break his trust. I’m in a no-win situation.

  Brody understood the drunken relative scenario concocted by Mike only caused more panic in Danny because excessive alcohol played a crucial role in them being hazed and Dan’s near drowning. Brody needed another option … to change things up to assist his brother through this exfil and manage to keep his hard fought for self-worth and confidence intact.

  Glancing at Dan, who was currently sedated, his heart broke. Danny still couldn’t keep much down. Nearly everything he took in came right back up. He kept trying. Boy, did Danny try. They all witnessed the effort he put forth and his attempts to hide his agony as he projected an optimistic attitude.

  Patch approached Blondie’s bunk to do the exchange of fluid for the dialysis and glanced at Brody. He noted Brody had been subdued all night. Part of him wondered if Brody feared water like he feared flying. As Patch donned gloves to attach the collection bag, he inquired, “What’s the problem, Brody?”

  Brody peered over at Patch for a moment. “I’m worried about Dan.”

  “We all are, but he will make it. So far, so good, on the renal output. I do not think his kidneys were permanently damaged by the toxin, though the doc will need to confirm once we return.”

  Rubbing his hands briskly over his face several times, Brody grappled with how to help Dan. Inspired by Dan’s current state, he declared, “I don’t think Dan should be conscious on the boat.”

  “Why?” Patch turned a slightly confused gaze to Brody.

  Why indeed? Brody could not reveal Dan’s apprehension. His mind struggled to come up with a solid reason. Again, he drew on Dan’s health condition. “He’s been so ill. He can’t keep anything down. Last time Dan and I went boating he ended up queasy.

  “Might’ve been bad fish, but I don’t want the memory to surface at an inopportune time and cause Danny to start upchucking which might draw people’s attention to him.” Brody studied Patch’s face trying to judge if his explanation, in truth, a bold-faced lie, sounded plausible to Patch.

  Patch sighed. “I also thought the yacht might exacerbate Blondie’s condition. His stomach is a mess and becoming seasick is the last thing he needs. I think you’re right. It might be better to sedate him, but we need to find a way to get him aboard unseen. Taking an unconscious man on to a boat would be noticed.”

  Brody nodded. “Yeah, it would.”

  Mason, Blaze, Mike, and Anastasia entered the room, after doing a late-night recon of Andrei’s yacht. Patch turned to Blaze. “I want to move Blondie to the boat while he is sedated.”

  “Why?” Blaze sat on the bed across from them.

  “I don’t want to risk the rocking motion making him nauseous. He’s done enough vomiting to last a lifetime.”

  Mason sat down to think about what Patch said as he scratched his scruffy jaw. Like the others, he had not shaved in several days, which would assist in his disguise as a grizzled fisherman. “I could sling Blondie over a shoulder to carry him and still be in character of a fisherman.”

  “No. The catheter needs to stay in. I’ll cover it with waterproof bandages to prevent contamination but rubbing on your shoulder wouldn’t be wise and might dislodge the tubing.”

  Grimacing, Mason did not want to cause any more harm to Blondie. The kid had enough to deal with already, and Mason only wanted to be a source of laughter for Blondie, not more pain. As he tried to come up with another solution his mind wandered. Endeavoring to make Blondie laugh and ease his discomfort earlier today, Mason had recounted how Winds teased him about dressing as a nun. Blondie chuckled a little at the retelling. And truth be told, all the ribbing the guys gave him was worth witnessing Blondie’s smile.

  Anastasia lowered herself into the chair at the head of Dan’s bed and gently ran her fingers through his golden locks as she mulled over the need to sedate him. Aware this motion gave him comfort she did it even though he slept. Dan always gave her a soft smile if he woke while she massaged his scalp. Her hand continued to glide as she said, “Too bad we have to shear this off.”

  “Danny can’t wait to be rid of the long hair. Hates any reminder of posing as the slimeball Maks,” Brody said.

  Voicing her concern, Anastasia said, “Cutting his mop will alter his appearance a tad, but I’m worried his blond hair, though shorter, combined with his distinctive sapphire eyes and overall handsome features will still draw unwanted attention.”

  Blaze considered both issues for a long moment. His mind tried to figure out a solution for boarding Blondie without anyone catching sight of him, yet he came up blank. He decided to address the sedation first. “I agree with sedating him, but it must be light. We need him to be awake when we transfer from the yacht to the seaplane.

  “I don’t want Blondie unaware of his surroundings during the transfer. If anything goes wrong, he might end up in the sea and drown. That is not something I will allow to happen, so he needs to be aware enough to stay afloat if he falls in. Anyone got ideas for moving him onboard unconscious?”

  Mike suggested, “If he is reeking of alcohol, we could simply claim he is so drunk he passed out. Mason could carry him in his arms instead of over his shoulder to protect the catheter.”

  “No alcohol,” Brody blurted out without thinking and realized his mistake when all eyes turned to him. He thought fast and added, “He was poisoned drinking vodka, don’t think he would appreciate being drench in it.”

  Reading Brody’s eyes, Blaze discerned Brody’s response covered up something he didn’t want to share. He understood that Brody, as Blondie’s confidant, was the keeper of many secrets. Both men held their pasts tight to the vest, rarely sharing, and relied on each other when ghosts or demons haunted them. Whatever he didn’t share must be important, so he supported Brody without explanation of the issue. “I agree. Dousing him with alcohol and having Mason carry him will only create more curiosity from the politsia that will be patrolling the docks. The two shouldn’t be seen together either since they are both being sought.”

  Brody breathed a sigh of relief, but the flick of Blaze’s eyes told him he had not covered his slip as well as he thought. Their CO was an astute man, which most times he appreciated, but right now, put him under scrutiny and made him uneasy. He decided to remain quiet and listen to what the others suggested. He did agree with the light sedation. He had not considered Danny needing to be awake to move between the boat and plane.

  Mike stared at Mason and an idea formed. His indolent past turned out to be somewhat useful on this mission. He grinned. “Fish bait.”

  Everyone turned confused eyes on him at his obscure comment.

  “Fish bait?” Brody asked.

  Mike chuckled and explained, “I remember this one time I went deep-sea fishing for swordfish. There was this huge, grizzly fisherman who was in charge of making sure the clients on the charter boat had all the necessary gear. He brought all the tackle and carried on this long, locker type box filled with chunks of bait.”

  Warming to the idea, Mason said, “So, if I understand your meaning, we procure a box and label it bait, hide Blondie inside, and I carry the thing to the yacht with no one the wiser. Right?”

  Mike’s grin grew. “Exactly. This will help with your disguise too. No one will want to come anywhere near a guy carrying smelly bait.”

  A little weight lifted from Brody’s shoulders. The light sedation would reduce Dan’s pa
nic to a manageable level. Any shaking or other symptoms he and Dan would blame on the effects of the poison. Dan need not divulge his fear of deep water. “I like the subterfuge. Dan can blissfully sleep until we have to wake him to transfer to the plane.”

  Patch nodded. “I can adjust his dose to make this work.”

  Blaze stood and said, “Excellent, we have a strategy. And we don’t have to worry about giving him a haircut now since no one will see him.”

  Anastasia shook her head. “No, I will still trim his locks. As Brody said, Dan wants to purge himself of any association with Maks. I can shear him now so when he wakes tomorrow morning he has a pleasant surprise.”

  “I’ll help,” Brody eagerly said as he realized the action would indeed lift Danny’s spirits.

  “You can cut it before I add fresh dialysate.” Patch capped off the port.

  Anastasia popped up. “I’ll go borrow the clippers from Sister Maria. Mason if you would bring in two buckets of water and the shampoo from the showers, I’ll wash Dan’s scalp after I’m done cutting, so all the little hairs don’t make him itchy.”

  Nodding in agreement, Blaze stated, “Mike come with me, we need to go hunting for a box which will fit Blondie and procure a few things to make this work.”

  Mason, Anastasia, Blaze, and Mike left to take care of business as Patch moved over to the table for a cup of coffee. Brody leaned in close to Dan and whispered, “I kept my promise. No alcohol and we have a halfway decent solution. Parts you still won’t like, but I won’t let you drown. I give you my solemn word. You will not drown again.”

  Blindsided by Betrayal

  54

  June 1

  Paris – Harriet Lambourne’s Home – 1:10 a.m.

  Staggering upstairs in her empty abode, having only now arrived home from the bar she frequented most nights, Harriet’s foul mood had not improved since her phone call to Jeannette. Still pissed off the haughty bitch rebuffed her every attempt to come over. She wanted to witness firsthand the results of her handiwork … to view the distress in Jeannette’s eyes when she received the news Dominique and her brats are dead.