Shadow Rescue

by Rebecca Deel

  Sam and Mercy glanced at each other and burst into laughter.

  Joe stared at Sam. “What’s so funny?”

  “Did you hear what those women were talking about?”

  He shook his head.

  She moved closer. “They were talking about their chances of spotting SEALs in the terminal.”

  A scowl from Shadow’s spotter. “What’s wrong with soldiers?”

  “Sore spot?”

  “Didn’t it bother you when you were enlisted?”

  “The Special Forces teams were more interested in me being female than anything else. My medic skills didn’t matter unless they needed patching up.”

  A member of the security staff approached. “You’re the Fortress group?”

  Nico stepped forward. “That’s right.”

  “The captain would like to speak with you and your team.”

  The operatives grabbed their gear and followed the employee. Mercy walked beside Nico, carrying her art supplies.

  The security worker led them off the ship to a conference room in the terminal and knocked on the door. He opened it for the operatives, then left.

  A dark-haired man at the head of a long table stood and motioned toward the empty chairs. “Have a seat. I’m Captain Jerry Greer.”

  Nico held out his hand. “Nico Rivera. My wife, Mercy.”

  A smile bloomed on the captain’s face. “The resident artist.”

  “That’s right. I paint under the name MJ Powers. Thank you for allowing me to share my love of art with your passengers.”

  “The pleasure is ours, I assure you. Did you bring paintings to sell?”

  Mercy shook her head. “Too difficult to travel with my inventory. I have a slide show that continuously scrolls through my complete catalog of work. I brought business cards with my website listed. The website showcases my available work and provides purchasing options.”

  “I’ll have to visit your website. My wife is a fan of your work.” He turned his attention to Nico. “Introduce me to your team.”

  Nico pointed to each team member in turn. “Sam, Joe, Ben, Trace, and Curt.”

  Greer’s eyebrows rose. “No last names?”

  “I’m protecting my team. We’re on an undercover assignment although our role in today’s events makes keeping our cover intact more difficult.”

  The captain looked skeptical. “I don’t know if you will blend in with the Pacific Star’s passengers.”

  “As long as the employees who know about us keep quiet, we’ll be able to proceed as planned.”

  “How much can you tell me about the bombs?”

  Nico inclined his head toward Ben and Joe. “They defused the devices.”

  “Simple construction,” Ben said. “Timer along with enough C-4 to do serious damage to your ship. The bomb in the engine room was placed on the engine.”

  “The bomb in the kitchen was in the pantry attached to the underside of a shelf against an outside wall,” Joe said. “The blast would have blown a hole in the hull. Both devices were timed to explode at the same time.”

  Greer dragged a hand down his face. “Law enforcement insisted the passengers and crew leave the ship while the dog teams are searching for more bombs.”

  “Standard procedure,” Nico said. “We’ll be close and available to answer law enforcement questions.”

  “You’re familiar with law enforcement procedures. Have you worked in the field?”

  “Joe was SWAT before he joined Fortress. We work with law enforcement on many missions inside US borders.”

  “Although our passengers won’t know what you did, thank you for handling this dangerous situation. You saved many lives by your selfless actions.”

  “Glad we could help.”

  “I know you have protocols to follow, but I want updates on any progress or discoveries you make while you’re on board my ship.”

  Nico helped Mercy stand. “We’ll tell you what we can.”

  The captain smiled slightly. “But it won’t be as much as I want? Fine. I’ll take what I can get.”

  After a nod at Greer, Shadow’s leader led his team from the room. He approached the security employee standing a few feet from the door, keeping watch.

  From his alert stance, Sam wondered if the man was protecting the captain. If so, Winestock was wise. Since the bombs hadn’t detonated, the next obvious target was the Pacific Star’s commander.

  If the saboteur hadn’t planted other unpleasant surprises.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Shadow, Curt, and Mercy followed the security member’s directions to the terminal employee dining room where they were to meet Winestock. Joe dropped into a chair beside Sam, gear at his feet. “Who is buying food for everybody?” he asked Nico.

  “Not you or Ben. The police will want to talk to you.”

  Trace glanced at Curt. “That leaves us since Nico’s running this operation. The cops will want to interview Sam as well. Anyone have a problem with burgers and fries?” When no one protested, Trace and Curt left.

  Ben grinned at Mercy. “You should have specified what size burger you wanted. Those two have appetites of teenage boys.”

  Nico chuckled. “Like you’re any different.”

  “Just thought Mercy should be prepared for a serious meal, not her usual child-size portion.”

  Bart Winestock entered the dining room followed closely by two men in suits. Joe’s lip curled. At least one of them was a fed. He shifted his chair closer to Sam’s.

  The security chief nodded at Joe. “Good job with the second bomb.”

  “Thanks.”

  He glanced around the table. “I’m Bart Winestock, Pacific Star’s security chief.”

  Nico held out his hand. “Nico Rivera. This is my wife, Mercy.” He introduced the rest of the Fortress operatives. “Two more team members will be here soon.”

  “First, I’m sure Captain Greer expressed his gratitude for your service but I want to add mine as well. Second, local and federal police want to interview those directly involved in discovering and defusing the bombs.”

  “Sam discovered the explosive device in the kitchen. Ben and Joe defused the bombs.”

  “Then those are the three we need to interview.” The six-foot blond-haired man spoke for the first time. “The rest need to join the other passengers and crew.”

  Nico stared at the cop. “We’ll stay.”

  A scowl from the blond and the scarecrow thin man with a scar running from his temple to his ear. “If you stay, you’ll keep your mouth shut,” Scarecrow insisted. “If you don’t, we’ll boot you out.”

  “We’re on the same side.”

  Joe flinched. Although Nico’s tone was mild, a storm brewed in their team leader’s eyes.

  Blondie snorted. “You aren’t on anyone’s side but your own. You’re a mercenary.”

  Winestock sighed. “Can we get on with this? Pump up your ego on your own time, Brock. Nico, this is Special Agent Travis Brock and Detective Ray Mathis with the San Diego Police Department.”

  Nico motioned to the empty chairs around their table. “Have a seat, gentlemen. I assume we’ll be here a while.”

  “Which one of you is Sam?” Brock asked.

  “I am.”

  The two law enforcement officers frowned. “You know what a bomb looks like?” Brock asked, a sneer on his face.

  Joe scowled, his temper ratcheting up several levels at the implied disrespect from the man.

  “I spent six years in the Army.”

  “What was your job?” Mathis opened his notebook and grabbed a pen from his pocket.

  “Medic.”

  The detective glanced up, respect in his eyes. “Tough job.”

  “It can be.”

  “You answered in the present tense. Are you a paramedic now?”

  “I’m a medic with Fortress Security.”

  A soft whistle. “I’ve heard of your company. Hard to get a job there.”

  Brock snorted. “Tell
us what happened from the time you boarded the ship until now. Don’t leave anything out. We’ll decide what’s important.”

  Joe bit back a growl at the patronizing way they treated Sam. They acted as though she wasn’t as trained as the rest of the Shadow team. Nothing could be further from the truth. In some ways, her training was more extensive. She had completed the same training regimen as the rest of them plus all the ongoing medical training.

  He remained silent during her recitation of events. Not much to question her over in Joe’s opinion.

  Eyes narrowed, Brock asked, “How did you know where to look, Sam?”

  “I didn’t. The kitchen and dining facilities were my assigned area.”

  “Why did you contact Joe?” The agent glanced up from his notes. “Is he your team leader?”

  “I texted Joe because he was with our explosives expert in the engine room.”

  “Why not contact the expert directly?”

  Sam smiled. “Never a good idea to startle a bomb tech when he has his hands on a bomb.”

  “You knew about the bomb in the engine room?” Brock’s stare made Joe’s hands clench under the table.

  “Winestock was in contact with Ben while we drove to the ship. He knew about Ben’s training and suspected there was a bomb in the engine room. With the timer ticking, I contacted Joe.”

  “Why?”

  Enough. Joe knew the men had to ask questions, but they were hounding Sam. “I’ve been training with Ben between missions.”

  “Is there a reason for that?” Mathis asked.

  “The rest of our unit knows something about bombs, but it seemed wise for Ben to have backup.”

  Brock’s eyebrows soared. “Your team sent a rookie to handle a bomb that could have killed hundreds of people and damaged the ship?”

  “I dismantled bombs like this before under Ben’s tutelage. If I had waited for the bomb squad, that device would have gone off before they arrived.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “How about well-trained? I had a good teacher.”

  Ben saluted him.

  “Your turn.” Brock gestured to Ben.

  He explained where the bomb was located, it’s components, and the procedure for dismantling the device.

  By the time the cops had finished questioning Ben, Joe, and Sam, Trace and Curt returned, arms full of take-out bags and cardboard drink carriers from a restaurant in the terminal.

  Brock and Mathis stood, shoving notebooks and pens in their jacket pockets. “How can we contact you if we have more questions?” Mathis asked.

  “Call Fortress Security’s main number.”

  The FBI agent frowned. “I want a cell phone number. You already mentioned texting each other so we know you have phones.”

  Shadow’s leader smiled. “We do have phones. We don’t, however, pass out the number. Security reasons. We’ll contact you if you leave a message with Fortress.”

  “You better or you’ll see me on your doorstep with an arrest warrant for obstructing justice.” The agent eyed Winestock. “You coming?”

  He shook his head. “My people know how to reach me. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  Curt and Trace dug into the bags and pulled out a mountain of hamburgers and fries. They handed out drinks. “You want to join us, Winestock?” Curt asked. “We bought plenty.”

  The security chief glanced at the logo on the bags. “Thanks. Those hamburgers are my favorite food in the terminal.” He dropped into a chair beside Nico. “Those cops are only the first of many who want to talk with you and your team. Eat while you have the chance.”

  Nico glanced at Joe who nodded. “He’s right. The Coast Guard will want in on this along with the alphabet agencies.”

  Shadow’s leader turned back to Winestock. “Since we don’t want our cover blown, we’ll stay here until it’s time to board the ship. Direct the agents to us. Trace, Curt, once you finish eating, join the crowd in the terminal. I want eyes on our targets.”

  As Winestock swallowed the last of his meal, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and rose. “Captain Greer wants to visit with passengers in the terminal.” He gathered his trash. “I’ll send the law enforcement agencies here.” The security chief slid Nico a business card. “Call if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll see you on the ship.” After dropping his trash in the garbage, Winestock left.

  Soon afterward, Curt and Trace joined the terminal crowd.

  Over the next few hours, various law enforcement agencies came in and out of the dining room. Amazing how similar their questions were. They left the interviews frustrated that the Fortress operatives didn’t know more.

  When the door closed behind the last of the agents, Joe scrubbed his face with his hands. “Well, that was fun.”

  “As much fun as having a bone set without anesthesia.” Sam stood and stretched, wincing as she lowered her arms.

  Nico pulled out his phone. “I’ll update Maddox and let him know to expect multiple contacts from law enforcement.” Before he could initiate a call, his cell phone rang. “It’s Curt.”

  He tapped the screen. “You’re on speaker with our unit.”

  “We’ve got trouble. Greer was attacked. We need Sam.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sam grabbed her mike bag. “Where?” she asked Curt as she hoisted the bag to her shoulder. Weren’t paramedics on site?

  “Conference room. He insisted Winestock take him there so the passengers wouldn’t panic.”

  Joe stood. “I’ll go with you. You might need another pair of hands.” He grabbed his bags and her duffel.

  “Trace and Curt’s hands work fine.”

  He winked at her. “Not as well as mine. Besides, they need to keep tabs on our targets.” He glanced at Nico. “Find out if the four of them were together when the captain was attacked.”

  “I’ll look into it.” Nico turned to Mercy. “You want a tour of the terminal, sweetheart?”

  “Looking forward to spending time with you in a crowd of impatient cruise passengers who want to get on with their vacations in the next minute.” She grinned at her husband. “Where did you say the body armor was?”

  With a laugh, he planted a quick kiss on her mouth.

  Their easy manner and obvious love for each other was fun to watch. Maybe one day she would have the same kind of relationship with Joe. She turned to the man in question. “I’m ready.”

  “I’ll hold off on reporting to Maddox until you update me on the captain’s condition,” Nico said.

  “Yes, sir.” Joe pressed his hand to Sam’s lower back, urging her forward.

  They retraced their steps to the conference room. One of Winestock’s people glowered at them as they approached. He pulled back his jacket, revealing the weapon he wore holstered at his waist.

  “I’m Sam, the medic Winestock asked to treat Captain Greer.”

  The man indicated Joe with his chin. “Who’s he?”

  “My partner.” She didn’t elaborate on the fact Joe wasn’t a medic. All Fortress operatives had basic training in field medicine in case they had to assist teammates or treat themselves in the field. “Confirm it with Winestock or get out of the way.”

  The door behind the security man opened. Winestock stood in the opening. “Good. You’re here. This way.”

  When Sam entered the room, her gaze tracked immediately to Jerry Greer. He was seated at the table with Trace at his side, pressing his hand against the captain’s bloody sleeve.

  “What do we have?” She slid her mike bag from her shoulder and sat in the chair Joe moved next to the captain for her.

  “Knife wound. Looks like it needs stitches.”

  “Let’s have a look.” Trace removed his hand and blood spilled from Greer’s wound. Sam whistled softly. “Oh, yeah. You need stitches. Do you want a paramedic to treat this for you?”

  The captain shook his head. “Trace says you’re a crackerjack medic. Would you take care of it, please? The passengers are al
ready upset. I don’t want to make matters worse by scaring them, too.”

  “I can, but I’m not approved to work as a paramedic in California.”

  Greer waved her protest away. “I need you to do this for me, Sam. Bart, find me a long-sleeved shirt to hide the bandage. I can’t walk around the terminal in a bloody shirt.”

  “I’ll take care of it, sir.”

  Sam pulled out her suture kit, lidocaine, and hypodermic needle and set them on the table for easy access. She hurried to the nearby sink and washed her hands. While Joe washed his, she slipped on a pair of gloves, then handed him a pair. “Trace, you can return to your assignment. Joe and I will handle this.”

  She sat in front of the captain again. “I’m going to clean the wound and numb your arm, then stitch the cut.”

  Greer glanced at his arm and grimaced. “You can’t just tape it together?”

  Sam shook her head. “With a wound this deep and in this location, it’s better to use stitches.”

  “Trust Sam’s judgment. She knows what she’s talking about.” Joe ripped open a packet of alcohol wipes and cleaned the captain’s arm. “You sent for her instead of your ship’s doctor.”

  “All right. Let’s get this done. I need to be out in the terminal.”

  Sam filled the hypodermic with lidocaine. “This will numb your arm. You’ll feel the tugging as I stitch the wound, but that’s all.”

  Greer hissed when she inserted the needle in his arm.

  “Is your tetanus vaccination up to date?”

  “Yes. The ship’s doctor keeps a close eye on the crew’s vaccinations.”

  “Smart.” Sam dropped the needle in the hard container she used to store used hypodermics until she could dispose of them safely.

  “How did you get cut?” Joe asked.

  “I was visiting different areas in the terminal, talking with our cruise passengers. As you can imagine, it’s crowded in there. I found myself in a large group of people. There was a lot of jostling around. I felt something tug on my sleeve and didn’t think anything of it until my arm started to burn. I looked down and saw blood.”

  “Your security team didn’t see anything or anyone acting suspicious?”