Code of Valor

by Lynette Eason

  “Have him update Linc.”

  “I can do that,” Adam said.

  “Can you get us in closer to the boat, Anissa?” Gabe said.

  Once they were right over the spot where Emily went down if the boat was any indication, he and Gabe went to the dive platform and slid into the water feet first.

  The man with the knife had moved closer and Emily had grabbed the rope to give it two yanks. Only to find he’d cut her loose. For several minutes, they’d done a crazy kind of water dance. He’d move closer, she’d dart away, her goal to get to the door. And then he’d move back to block her. The water continued to grow murkier as they stirred things up. What did he want?

  Panic quickened her breathing, and while she desperately wanted to look at her air gauge, she didn’t dare take her eyes off the blurry man in front of her.

  He lunged at her. She kicked hard and shot past him, swinging out with the crowbar she still clutched in her right hand.

  Her shot in the dark connected with his arm, and the knife sank to the bottom of the vessel. His dark eyes flashed at her from behind the mask, and she kicked backward toward the doorway.

  And stared in horror as his hand snaked out to grab at the trailing rope. He missed. Emily continued her exit even as she snagged the rope to reel it in. She had to get out of the boat before she had a full-blown panic attack. Her feet kicked in frantic swipes, propelling her toward the galley. She expected to feel the edge of the blade sink into her back at any moment.

  She spun to see him gaining on her, reaching for the still-trailing end of the rope with one hand and gripping the knife in the other. The fact that he’d stopped to retrieve it had gained her a few precious seconds, but not many.

  She continued to kick even as she yanked the rope away from his grip. If he managed to grab it, she was done. She darted out of the side door and into the open expanse of the lake.

  With frantic kicks, she headed for the surface.

  The next raging question was, how was she going to slow down to avoid decompression sickness? No more than thirty feet per second, right? Was it better to risk that or would it be better to let him catch up with her and try to escape later?

  Or would he just stab her when he caught her?

  God, please!

  She glanced at her gauge and gasped. Fifteen minutes remained and then she’d be in serious trouble. Her rapid, panicked breathing had used the air faster than was good. Not only that, but she was quickly reaching her no decompression limit.

  She inflated the BCD and slowed her ascent. She needed to stop for at least three to five minutes and that just wasn’t going to be possible.

  The man behind her did the same. Emily continued to gather rope only to have him make a whip-fast lunge and snag the end of it.

  A strangled shriek escaped her and she kicked out.

  He yanked her back . . .

  . . . and slowly reeled her in.

  27

  Brady and Gabe kicked their way deeper. “See anything?” Gabe asked.

  “No.”

  “What was she doing down here anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” Brady said. “Everyone’s been chasing the location of the Lady Marie, which supposedly sank in this area. Whatever was on it when it sank is apparently worth killing and kidnapping over—and they believed Emily could lead them to it due to some pictures that were texted to her by her friend.” The conversation was good. It kept his fear for Emily from completely overwhelming him. He could talk and scan the water, mostly because he couldn’t see much. It was churned up and visibility was poor. “She could be two feet in front of me and I wouldn’t know it,” he muttered.

  “All right, let’s do another sweep. Swim in a grid just like in training. If we don’t see the boat, we’re going to have to bring in the ROV. Even though we’re right under the dinghy, they didn’t anchor it and it could have drifted.”

  “Yeah.” Nothing he hadn’t already thought about.

  “You got that, Anissa? Ryan?”

  “Got it.”

  For the next few minutes, they swept the area, communicating with Anissa and Ryan above, who guided them in the search, making sure they were staying on course and not simply covering the same area over and over.

  “There.” Brady pointed. “I thought I saw something. Ryan, I need more rope.” He swam toward whatever it was his light had snagged. As he got closer, he could see a solid object that grew bigger and finally morphed into the bow of the sunken vessel. “This is it. We found it.”

  “See if you can see the name on the side,” Gabe said.

  Brady swung around to the side and used his light to illuminate the port side near the front. “The Lady Marie,” he said. On the one hand, knowing Emily might be in there, it was all he could do to keep from dashing into the boat. On the other . . .

  “All right, let’s get in there and see what we can find.”

  Brady’s gut twisted. “I hate penetration diving.”

  “Right there with you,” Gabe said. “Going into those unstable environments is enough to give me nightmares.”

  “Gabe? Brady?” Anissa said. “Adam said the team just arrived to process the boat with the two dead guys. And the chopper just communicated that they caught the guy who shot them.”

  “Excellent. Find out who he is if you can.”

  “Adam’s on it.”

  Brady came to the entrance of the craft and stopped at the sliding glass doors. Was Emily in there? Was she alive? Hurt? He swallowed and pushed on through. He hated penetration diving. There were so many ugly ways to die, so he avoided it at all costs. Only for Emily—or one of his teammates—would he do this. He went inside and Gabe went around him. “Man, bet this was a pretty sweet lady when she was on the other side of the water.”

  “Yeah.” Brady followed. “Watch that drawer full of knives down there.”

  Gabe gave him a thumbs-up and headed for the short hallway. Brady trailed behind, keeping an eye on the lines. Through the control room, the galley, down the hall . . .

  . . . and slammed into Gabe’s back.

  The man placed a hand on the wall to steady himself and turned. “Dead bodies.”

  In the span of half a second his heart stopped, then galloped out of control. “Emily?”

  “Oh no, man, sorry. Two guys. I think. One’s definitely shot in the head. It’s not pretty, but it’s not Emily.”

  The thundering in his chest slowed. He slid around so he could see and shuddered at the sight. Horror-movie worthy. He’d dealt with his share of recovery calls, but he never got used to it.

  “Dead bodies?” Anissa said. “Plural?”

  “Affirmative, but we’re not exactly following recovery protocol at the moment,” Gabe said.

  “We’ll sort it out later. Keep looking for Emily.”

  Brady scanned the lines as Gabe made his way into the bedroom. So far, so good. No snags, catches, or other trouble. Other than the fact that he hadn’t found Emily yet. Please, God, let her be okay . . .

  “The safe’s open,” Gabe said. He swam over to it. Brady stayed with him, adjusting his BCD pressure slightly. “Lots of money in here. She didn’t bother with that. Interesting.”

  Brady turned and headed for the exit. “Okay, I think it’s safe to say Emily’s not here. Let’s get out of here.”

  But if she wasn’t in the wreckage and her line had been cut, what had she done and where had she gone? More important, who had she gone with?

  Emily had stopped struggling when she realized that she couldn’t escape. Fighting used up her air, and she had a feeling she’d better conserve as much as possible. Her captor didn’t seem compelled to try to explain what he had planned, he simply swam next to her, the knife in his hand a constant threat.

  The knife she’d pilfered from the galley was still tucked in her belt and she didn’t think he’d seen it or he would have taken it. Not sure how he could have missed it, she decided to be grateful and let him lead, since it appeared he w
as headed to the surface. When he stopped for a moment, she stayed at the end of the line as far from him as she could.

  Then he was moving again, pulling her along.

  After one more stop, they surfaced. He pointed to the dock. It was similar to the one she’d started out on with Todd and Snake Man, but was farther away and located in a cove lined with large houses. Out of sight of most of the open water area, Emily had no idea where she was. She just knew she needed to get out of the water and away from this man.

  He gave her a yank and she swam for the dock. She scrambled up the ladder and sat for a moment, making sure her left arm covered the knife at her side. She was surprised at how tired she was. Exhausted, actually. According to the small computer on her arm, she’d been down there close to forty-five minutes. It had felt like forty-five years. She pulled off the helmet and set it aside. The cold wind lashed at her face and she left the dry suit hood covering her head.

  He stood over her and pulled his mask off. “Give me the flash drive. And before you argue about it, I won’t kill you, but I will hurt you to get it. Am I clear?”

  And he’d find the knife. “Crystal,” she said. She pulled the flash drive out of the little pocket on her suit and handed it to him.

  “Keep that nice, cooperative attitude and he might be merciful and kill you quickly. Otherwise, you’ll hurt for a very long time.” As she was processing that, he nodded to her feet. “Get the flippers off and let’s go.”

  She debated arguing with him and decided against it for now. Keeping her left side away from his line of sight, she wordlessly slid the flippers off, grateful for the neoprene that protected her feet from the chill.

  She stood. “Now what?”

  “Walk.”

  Emily walked, keeping her left elbow down and her face tilted away from the wind. “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a van parked up that hill and around the curve. Fortunately, I work for a man who plans for every contingency. He’s had his eyes on Cavendish for a while now, watching him, following him.” He scowled. “Following you. He wasn’t happy with your bodyguards.”

  “Sorry to inconvenience him.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle. The fingers of her right hand touched the knife.

  “We’re going to get in that van and I’m going to take you to someone who’s very anxious to meet you.”

  That didn’t sound promising. “Where’s Todd and Snake Man?”

  He raised a brow. “Snake Man?”

  “The guy who was with Todd. Had the big snake tattoo on his neck that ran down to his hand. Grant.”

  “Oh. Grant Hudson.”

  “Right.”

  “He’s dead. So is Todd.”

  She swallowed a gasp. “Okay. But I thought . . .” She stopped. “You work for Paul Bailey, don’t you?”

  A hard smile curved his lips. “He said you were smart.”

  “Todd said he and his brother hated each other.”

  “That’s an understatement. Now go.”

  Emily trudged to the van, wondering if she was making a mistake in cooperating. But that knife hadn’t left his hand and she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk him using it. Not to kill her, as it was obvious he was keeping her alive for something, but she was quite sure he wasn’t lying about hurting her. She shivered and spotted the van. God, I’m going to have to put this in your hands. You know how I want this to end. I’m scared. Really, seriously scared, and I need you more than ever right now.

  She continued her prayer as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. While he rounded the van, she slid the knife from the left side of the belt to the right.

  God? Please help me.

  Brady pulled his helmet off. “I can’t believe this.” Would he never catch up with her? “Where’d you see her?”

  Anissa lowered the binoculars. “She and another person exited the water using that dock. There was a van parked at the top of the hill. They got in it and drove away. I couldn’t get the plate, but I’ve already called it in and the chopper is looking for it right now.”

  “Can we head in? I need to be helping search for her.”

  “Absolutely.” Anissa aimed the boat toward the other side of the lake where they’d originally started. Brady skimmed out of the borrowed dry suit, then called Linc. He paced and they schemed while the boat skipped effortlessly over the waves, headed to shore. “Did the chopper get a visual on the vehicle?” he asked his brother.

  “Not yet.”

  “We’ve got to find her, Linc. I know she’s scared out of her mind.”

  “Hopefully not. She’s going to have to keep it together.”

  Brady sighed. “Yeah.”

  Finally, the shore came into sight and he saw Linc waiting, leaning against his vehicle. Hopefully, the truck that would take him to Emily.

  He turned to Gabe, Ryan, and the others. “Thank you all for your help.”

  “Anytime,” Gabe said.

  The others echoed the sentiment and Brady jogged to join Linc. Once he settled in the passenger seat, Linc handed him a COMMS piece and Brady shoved it into his left ear.

  “What’s the update?” he asked Linc.

  “Still no sign of the vehicle description or plate.”

  Brady closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer. One thing about this situation, it had him speaking to God again. Begging. Pleading.

  Just like Emily had done with Heather.

  The thought chilled him and he pressed his palms against his eyes. How had he fallen so hard so fast for this woman? It terrified him. And thrilled him at the same time. As long as he could get her back.

  Linc’s phone rang. “It’s the sheriff of Carrington. They gave him my contact info when they figured out who the two men on the boat were.” He hit the Bluetooth button that would allow Brady to listen in as well. “Yeah, Sheriff, what do you have?”

  “We’ve identified the two men. An ex-con named Grant Hudson and a man by the name of Todd Cavendish. Both thirty-four years of age.”

  “I recognize the name Hudson, but not Cavendish.”

  “I did a little research. He’s had an interesting business career with a lot of ups and downs. As a teen, he was involved in a boating accident that left a bad scar on his face. He recovered and graduated from high school and legally changed his name after his parents got divorced.”

  “What was his name before he changed it?”

  “Todd Garrett Bailey.”

  28

  Emily gasped as her captor turned into the driveway of a gated estate, and she leaned forward, taking in as much of it as she could. Not because she appreciated the beauty, but because she needed an escape route.

  Unfortunately, all she saw were rolling hills surrounded by a wrought-iron fence with a pointy spike at the tip of each piece.

  The vehicle pulled around back and her driver killed the engine. “Try to run and I’ll shoot you in the back.”

  “Kind of defeats the purpose of not killing me in the water when you had the chance, doesn’t it?”

  He scowled. “Get out.”

  Emily did so, refusing to acknowledge her pounding heart and wobbly knees. She needed to get a message to Brady or 911 or someone, but how to do that wasn’t clear. She had no phone again and the man who’d taken her from the lake didn’t appear inclined to share his.

  She let him guide her toward the back entrance. He kept a hand on her upper arm, but his grip didn’t hurt. Fear wanted to send her running, the knowledge that it wouldn’t do a bit of good propelled her forward.

  Just inside the back door off the garage, a set of steps led down. “Go down,” he said.

  Stomach churning, she started down, only the knife at her side gave her the courage to continue. At the bottom of the steps, she stopped. A large wooden door at the bottom stood cracked open. “Inside,” he said and pushed it open over her shoulder.

  Emily grappled for control of her terror while ordering her heart to slow its frantic p
ace. She stepped over the threshold and gasped, barely managing to contain the shriek clawing to escape.

  The man tied to the chair rolled his head at the sound, but his eyes remained closed. “No more,” he said. “Please, no more.”

  She looked at the contents on the plastic that covered the floor, then looked away before she threw up. The poor man’s face ran red as did his exposed chest. But wait . . . she steeled herself and took another look at the battered face. “Jeremy?”

  His lids fluttered and he squinted, as though having a hard time focusing. “Emily?”

  “Oh my . . . Jeremy . . .” What could she say? Or do? For so long she’d hated him, but now . . . pity filled her. And maybe even compassion.

  A man stepped out of the shadows, the knife in his right hand clearly used recently. “Paul Bailey,” she whispered his name. “You killed Todd and Snake Man . . . uh . . . Grant Hudson.”

  “Well, not me personally, but I have very efficient hired assassins. Take Jake over there. Former special forces, sniper, diver, and bomb expert all rolled into one—and worth every penny.”

  “You killed Heather.” Fury rose, almost obliterating the fear racing in her veins.

  “Actually, I didn’t. You can thank Jeremy for that one. He went out on his own and hired Burnett. I only found out about it later.”

  “Because Heather had seen him at the lake. How’d she know he was there?”

  “Apparently, she’d been following him. The Tuesday before she was killed, we talked a good bit. She was very angry with that man in the chair because of some past misdeed he’d committed against a friend of hers and had taken it upon herself to follow him. When she came upon him, he’d stolen the boat and taken it out to Carrington.”

  Heather had been following Jeremy because of Emily. The knowledge was like a kick in the stomach.

  “How did you discover all this?” If she kept him talking, maybe she could think of a way out. Although, with only one small window in the corner, she wasn’t sure what that would be.

  “Heather had her laptop in the car and had a document open where she was writing her story and making notes. It was very informative.”