by Rebecca Deel
The boss man said, “All right. You got what you wanted. Now, I want those records, Ms. Scott.”
“You’re out of luck, buddy.”
He stilled. “You don’t have them? I told you what would happen to the brat if you didn’t bring them.”
Rowan tightened her grip on Alexa. “Talk to your goons. They took me before I could tell them my boyfriend has the records. The plan was for him to come with me and give you the records in exchange for Alexa. Your boys screwed everything up.”
“What do we do, boss?” Hard Hands asked.
The boss turned back to Rowan. “Your boyfriend got a name, Ms. Scott?”
“Brent Maddox.”
Hard Hands groaned. “Oh, man.”
“You know him?” Invisible Man asked.
“By reputation only and that’s bad enough.”
“Who is he?”
“The founder of Fortress Security.”
Invisible Man scowled and a vile curse spilled from his mouth. “Marshall, get the plane ready.”
“Yes, sir.” He left in a hurry.
Plane? Rowan eyed the boss who turned toward her. What did that mean for her and Alexa?
“Looks like you and your family are causing me no end of trouble, Ms. Scott.”
“Let us go. I can’t tell anyone who you are or where your hideout is because I don’t know either of those things.”
Invisible Man gave a mirthless laugh. “Doesn’t matter now. Fortress has a reputation of being relentless. I don’t have enough people and fire power to handle them.”
“So what does that mean for us?”
His lips curved. “I’m taking you to someone who can handle Fortress. You and your bratty niece will be the bait.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Brent woke to a male voice calling his name and calloused fingers tapping his cheek. He drew in a deep breath and wished he hadn’t. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes to Jake Davenport’s worried gaze. The worry morphed into relief.
“About time you woke up, Maddox. You had me worried.”
“What happened?”
“Sniper shot you in the chest. Hit your vest. The impact of the bullet threw you against the mausoleum and knocked you out for several minutes. Thought I might have to transport you to the hospital to have your hard head examined.”
He grunted, winced. Crap. He’d forgotten how much cracked ribs hurt. Though the vest did its job, he’d feel the bullet’s impact for a while. Brent turned his head, looking for Rowan. Didn’t see her. He frowned. Had his operatives hustled Rowan into the SUV to protect her? “Where’s Rowan?”
Jon Smith crouched beside him, his expression grim. “I’m sorry, Brent. After they shot you, three men grabbed her, stuffed her in an SUV, and took off with her. We have Zane hacking into the traffic cams, but he’s not having much luck. There were several black SUVs in the area. He’s having to track each one.”
“Let me up,” he snapped at Jake.
“Might not want to do that,” Jake warned. “You probably have a concussion.”
Brent stared at his medic, eyes narrowed. “If the woman you planned to marry had been kidnapped, would you be taking it easy while unknown thugs took her further away from you?”
Jake’s eyes locked on his. “Like that, is it?” He sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He leaned down and helped Brent sit up.
Brent broke into a sweat as the world tilted and swayed, his ribs protesting every breath and body movement. A moment later, Jake laid a cold pack on the back of his neck.
“If you puke, aim at Eli.”
“Hey!” the SEAL protested. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Both of you shut up,” Brent muttered. “Your yammering is making my head hurt worse.”
Eli grabbed another cold pack, activated it, and pressed it to the back of Brent’s head. “I don’t suppose you put a tracker on your woman, did you?”
Brent slanted him a look. “What do you think?”
Eli smiled. “Excellent. Want me to contact Zane?”
“I’ll take care of it.” He pulled out his cell phone and called his tech guru. He put the call on speaker.
“How’s the head, boss?”
“Peachy. Feels like I got too close to a stun grenade except I can hear. Rowan has a tracker on her watch. It’s logged under my name.”
Keys clicked as Zane logged into the Fortress system and searched for Brent’s tracker signal. “Got it. She’s heading toward McMinnville at a fast clip.”
“Stay on that signal.”
“I did more digging into the list Heather Maxwell gave Rowan for safekeeping.”
“What did you find out?”
“Two things. One, Keith Phillips is the one who has Alexa Maxwell. I haven’t been able to uncover his location yet.”
“Looks like we’ll be finding out soon. What else?”
“The reason why Phillips is so desperate to get his hands on those records is they confirm the connection between international terrorists, the militia groups, and the Navarro cartel. The terrorists are the drug couriers, Brent. Once they’re inside the United States and deliver the drugs, they disappear into the general populace.”
“Until they surface for a terrorist attack.” Just what they didn’t need. Gun-toting terrorists acting as drug mules. President Martin needed to know. Brent suspected Fortress would take on Navarro in the near future. They couldn’t let Navarro continue to import drugs and terrorists into the country. The risk was too great. He prayed the call wouldn’t come before he’d freed Rowan and Alexa. Their safety was his priority now despite his loyalty to his country and President Martin personally.
“Z, it’s Jon. How do you know this?”
“One of Phillips’ guys has a big mouth. He’s been emailing a buddy, angling for another job in one of the other militia groups. He’s worried Phillips is drunk on his own power.”
Brent and Jon exchanged glances. Not good news. Phillips would be all the more dangerous when he realized his plans were doomed to fail. The question was, what would he do to Rowan and Alexa? Would he blame them and take his anger out on them, or turn the anger on Brent? He’d prefer to be Phillips’ target any day. He had the skills to handle the man and his organization. Rowan didn’t.
“Let’s go.” Brent slowly climbed to his feet with the assistance of his medic and Eli. “Z, find out if Phillips has fast access to a plane.”
Silence, then, “You think he’s going to run?”
“I would. He has to know we’re coming after him for taking Rowan.” Brent worried the militia leader would take Rowan and Alexa with him, putting them further out of his protection. Where would he take them? Someplace Phillips felt safe, perhaps with reinforcements. But where?
“Jon, you have your laptop?” Zane asked.
“In the SUV. Why?”
“I’ll send you the frequency for Rowan’s tracker. One of the other teams is needing help.”
“What’s going on?” Brent asked. The only team in a hot zone was St. Claire’s.
“I’ll keep digging on the plane angle, but St. Claire’s team is seeing movement in their area. They need satellite imagery.”
“Copy that. Keep me apprised of their situation. One other thing, Zane. Find a way to contact Veronica Miles. Find out if she’s aware of the Navarro cartel importing terrorists with the drugs. We need intel on the cartel itself. Its size, strength, firepower. Need the information yesterday, Z.” He ended the call. He needed to contact Martin now.
Brent walked to the SUV, needing Eli’s steadying hand once. Okay, twice. But he wasn’t admitting that out loud. Finally settled into the back of Eli’s vehicle, he eyed Jake who climbed in beside him. “I’m fine, Davenport,” he groused. No way the medic could see his head felt as though it would explode into a million pieces any minute. “I don’t need a nanny.”
“Yeah? Guess the help you needed was just brotherly love from Eli.”
He scowled at his friend, hoping J
ake had missed the assist. Should have known better. Jake Davenport never missed anything. It’s why Brent paid big bucks to keep him at Fortress.
“Look, boss, I know I can’t keep you on the sidelines. However, you’re going to need help in remaining functional.”
“No drugs.” If the medic drugged him, he couldn’t function at all. Made him a card-carrying wuss, but pain meds knocked him out.
Jake rolled his eyes, reached into his mike bag, and held up athletic tape. “I can’t fix cracked ribs, but I can make you more comfortable and mobile without drugs.”
“Do it.” Brent eased up his black t-shirt and Jake went to work with the tape. “Jon?”
“I’ve got her. They’re moving past McMinnville.”
“How far behind them are we?”
“Thirty minutes,” Eli said. “If we’re pulled over, we’ll be that much further behind them. We’re loaded with enough firepower to raise eyebrows, and get us cuffed and questioned for a long time.”
Brent considered the risk well worth it. “Step on it, Eli.” While Jake taped, Brent called Cal.
“Taylor.”
“Need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“I need your law enforcement buddies to turn a blind eye to my vehicle and two others.”
“What’s going on?”
Brent explained what happened in the cemetery and that Fortress was in three SUVs, chasing after the kidnappers. “We don’t know where they’re headed or I’d have law enforcement surround the place and keep Phillips from leaving with Rowan and Alexa.”
“I’ll contact the Tennessee Highway Patrol and Warren County law enforcement. You may have to call in a favor on this one, boss.”
“Copy that.” Brent would gladly burn a marker if it meant finding Rowan and Alexa faster.
“Slide over,” Jake said. When Brent complied, the medic shifted to taping the ribs on other side. Finally, Jake stashed the athletic tape in his mike bag. “It’s not perfect. The only way to alleviate the pain is to rest and heal.”
“When Rowan and her niece are safe.”
“The tape job will keep you mobile, Brent, but you’ll hurt. That much tape will be hard to remove. Don’t rip it off, boss. You’ll peel off a layer of skin with it. You need to shower first, soak the tape. You’ll still need help because you can’t reach all of it.”
He scanned his torso, frowned as he tugged his shirt down. “Looks like you used a whole roll.”
“Not quite. If Rowan can’t do the honors, I’ll peel the tape for you.”
Brent prayed Rowan would be available to help because that would mean she was free. “Update?” he asked Jon.
“Still moving into less populated areas of Warren County.” He frowned.
“What is it?”
“She’s slowing.” He paused. “Stopped.” His fingers flew over the keys. “Got it.” Jon programmed the address into the SUV’s navigation system for Eli.
Brent called Cal with Rowan’s location.
“I’ll send law enforcement to contain them. It will take a few minutes for them to mobilize and reach the coordinates, Brent. Phillips is out in the boonies.”
“Understood. Tell them not to engage unless they try to leave with Rowan and Alexa. No one goes in but Fortress.”
“I’ll try. I can’t guarantee they’ll listen. Most law enforcement thinks we’re overpaid cowboys with a death wish.”
Jake grabbed one of the ice packs and pressed it to the back of Brent’s head as he made the necessary call to President Martin. “Mr. President, I have information.”
“I have two minutes. Go.”
Brent laid out what he’d learned about the connection between the Volunteer militia along with the other militias on the list, and the Navarro cartel.
“Is your team in place?”
“Yes, sir. Their area is heating up. Not sure the cartel or the federales are making a move.”
Martin was silent a moment. “How large is the team on the ground?”
“Not large enough.”
“Remedy that. I want this taken care of.”
“Yes, sir. Mr. President, I may not be the best person to carry out your orders right now.”
“Explain.”
“The woman I love has been taken hostage by the Volunteer militia leader. Sir, my priority is saving Rowan Scott and her niece.”
“I expect you to take care of your missions, Commander.” Martin ended the call.
Eli whistled. “The president doesn’t ask much, does he?”
Right. Save the woman he’d die for in a heartbeat as well as her niece, rescue the ambassador’s family, and shut down the Navarro cartel. He sent a text to Josh Cahill, leader of the Durango team, activating his unit, then fired off another text to Zane to notify the other units that they may be called upon to assist in the efforts to suppress Navarro.
The miles passed in tense silence except for Brent coordinating the plan of attack with the other SUVs. Jon split his screen. One half had the flashing red dot showing Rowan’s location. The other half showed the buildings at the coordinates. Phillips’ compound was laid out well for his purpose.
Zane called. “Brent, the Volunteer militia purchased a Lear jet in the past month. A small, private landing strip isn’t far from the coordinates you texted me.”
Would Brent reach Rowan in time?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Hard Hands hurried into the living room where Rowan sat on the couch, arms wrapped around her sleeping niece. The girl must not have slept much in the past few nights. As precarious as their situation was, Alexa had fallen asleep on Rowan’s lap as soon as Invisible Man ordered them to sit and keep quiet. That Alexa had so much faith in her ability to protect them both thrilled and terrified Rowan. She didn’t want to let her niece down.
“Boss, Merrick’s been listening to the police scanner. The cops are headed this way.”
More swearing from the boss.
“What do we do, Keith?” one of the other men asked.
Satisfaction rolled through Rowan. Confirmation of her captor’s identity. Small comfort if Brent didn’t know who kidnapped them or where they were taken.
Rowan glanced at her watch. Was the tracker working? Would help arrive in time to keep them from being taken to some faraway place or before they were hurt?
“Call the airfield. See if the plane is ready.” He glared in Rowan and Alexa’s direction.
She maintained steady breathing, hoping her niece wouldn’t wake yet.
A hushed conversation later, the other man said, “Plane’s ready.”
Phillips tipped his chin. “Get my bags.” After his underling left, Phillips glanced at Hard Hands. “Can Walters hold off the cops and anyone else who might try to interfere?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yes, sir. Why?”
“You’re coming with me.” He swung his hate-filled gaze toward Rowan again though he still spoke to Hard Hands. “Keep them under control until we reach to our destination.”
Oh, no. Rowan rested her chin on her niece’s head. She needed to stall. Surely Brent was the one who called the police. “You don’t want to take us with you.”
He gave a harsh bark of laughter. “On the contrary, Ms. Scott, I don’t have a choice. If I leave you here, I won’t have leverage.”
“If my boyfriend is dead, his employees won’t give you what you want. My niece and I are extra baggage you don’t need unless you want even more trouble.”
“And if I let you go?”
“I don’t want the records. Tell me where to send them or I can burn them. I’ll do either option you choose if you and your men stay away from Alexa.” Would he take the bargain?
Phillips snorted and pulled his gun. “Get up, Ms. Scott.”
Taking as long as she dared, Rowan shifted Alexa’s weight so she could stand. Her niece mumbled something in her sleep and slipped back into steady breathing. Thank goodness. She didn’t want Alexa to be afraid. Rowan was plenty afrai
d for both of them.
If Phillips flew them out of the country, Rowan didn’t have her passport or Alexa’s. She had the will proving she was Alexa’s legal guardian, but nothing else. If Phillips flew them to another location inside the country, all Rowan had to do was escape and find the nearest phone to call Fortress. Hard Hands or one of his buddies had taken her cell phone.
Rowan rose and, after being prodded in the back with the gun, followed Phillips through the hallway and out the back door where an SUV waited, a driver behind the wheel.
She got into the backseat, Hard Hands climbing in after her.
Alexa stirred. “Aunt Rowan? Where are we going?”
“Shh. I don’t know, sweetheart,” she whispered into Alexa’s ear. “I guess we’re going on an adventure. Go back to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” Somehow.
The driver raced from the collection of buildings toward the back of the property where a dirt road cut through the forest.
Her heart sank the farther they drove from the house. She prayed Brent found them before the plane left the ground.
Within minutes, the SUV exited the tree cover, turned onto another back road, and sped further away. Rowan studied the terrain, hoping for something to orient her. She didn’t miss the fact the men hadn’t blindfolded her this time, maybe because she had no reference point. More likely, though, they didn’t expect her to escape with a child in her arms and she wouldn’t leave Alexa behind.
More turns led them to an asphalt road. Fifteen minutes later, the driver took a sharp left, throwing Rowan against the passenger-side door. Alexa woke with a start. “We’re okay, Lex.”
“Where are we?”
“Not sure.”
Alexa sat up and looked around. “Look.” She pointed out the windshield. “A plane.”
Rowan’s stomach knotted. A jet waited on the airstrip. No law enforcement in sight or a Fortress SUV. Brent and his operatives would have to find her and Alexa farther away than any of them wanted.
“Are we going for a ride?”
“We’ll see.”
Hard Hands smirked at Alexa. “Yeah, kid, you are. A nice long ride.”