by Rebecca Deel
“What’s happening?”
“I think we’re going to land soon.”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know, Lex. We’ll find out soon.”
Minutes later, the lock turned and the door opened. Hard Hands stood in the doorway, gun in hand. “Let’s go, Ms. Scott.”
With Alexa’s hand in hers, Rowan returned to the cabin to find the hatch open and the stairs down. Phillips waited at the opening along with another man, this one a stranger. Dark skin, dark hair, cold gaze.
Alexa pressed close to Rowan’s side. She squeezed the girl’s hand, hoping to reassure her. She wished someone would do that for her, but Brent wasn’t here. Yet. How far away was he?
Hard Hands jabbed his gun in Rowan’s back again. “Move.”
“This way, Ms. Scott.” Phillips gestured to the opening. “We have an appointment. We don’t want to keep our host waiting.”
Their host? Rowan straightened her shoulders. Whoever the host was, if he was a friend of Phillips, he wasn’t an ally for Rowan and Alexa.
The girl glanced up at her, waiting for direction from Rowan. A slight nod and both of them walked toward the doorway. At the top of the stairs leading to the tarmac, a warm tropical breeze surprised her enough that Rowan paused.
The stranger spat out something in a foreign language, shoving her forward. More strangers scurried around the tarmac, all of them speaking Spanish.
Where had Phillips taken them?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Brent strode into the main building in Phillips’ compound with Jon, Eli, and Jake close behind. Another of Brent’s operatives angled his head toward the living room.
He registered the oversized leather furniture newer than his own. The militia gig must pay well. It was more likely the drug money paid well.
Brent focused on the man tied to a chair in the center of the room. The militia member stared straight ahead as Brent approached, though he continued tugging against his bonds. Wasted effort. The captive sported a cut over his left eye with the right rapidly swelling. He’d have a shiner in a few hours.
An operative standing behind the captive caught Brent’s attention. Brent raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry and received a head shake in response. Didn’t figure this guy would talk freely. In the end, he’d tell them everything he knew.
The mission clock continued to tick in his head. The helicopter would arrive in twenty minutes. Enough time to learn what this soldier knew.
Brent refocused on the captive. An underling, he would guess. He doubted Phillips planned on returning to this compound. Maybe took his senior soldiers with him to control Rowan and Alexa during the flight.
He signaled Jon to move behind the man. At first, the militia soldier sneered at Jon. That morphed into uncertainty and a flicker of fear when he elicited no response from the legendary sniper.
“Name?” Brent asked, voice soft.
A snort was his response.
Jon immediately popped the back of the soldier’s head.
“Hey! Knock it off,” the man groused.
Definitely no training in resisting interrogation. Made Jon’s job easier. Brent turned his head toward Roberts, the other operative.
“Judd Walters,” he supplied.
A scowl from the soldier confirmed the information.
“How long have you been with the militia, Walters?” Jon murmured.
“Long enough.”
“Good.” Eli leaned a shoulder against the wall, his attention focused on the captive. “You have information. If you’re smart, you’ll answer our questions.”
“Right.”
“Tell him what happens if he doesn’t volunteer the information.” Brent sat on the arm of the couch, his movements unhurried and as casual as he could make them. In truth, he didn’t want to sink into the depths of the couch and have to fight his way out of the softness, not with his ribs like they were. Jake had taped him well, but he still hurt. No need to make it worse.
Jon dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “We’ll get the information from you the hard way. You won’t like our methods.”
“You don’t scare me.”
Brent shook his head, crossed his arms as though nothing important pressed him and his heart didn’t threaten to burst from his chest. A clock ticked in his head, warning that time was running out. “You should be afraid, Judd.” His mouth curved into a cold smile. “We’re very good at what we do.”
Walters’ gaze darted from Brent to Eli to Roberts. No matter how he twisted, he couldn’t see Jon, an action designed to further unnerve him.
Brent saw the exact moment the soldier decided to brazen out the interrogation. No surprise.
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “But it is in your best interest.” He glanced at Jon. Though an amazing sniper, the SEAL had top-flight skills in interrogation techniques, courtesy of the Navy.
Jon pressed on a pressure point near Walters’ left shoulder blade.
The soldier’s eyes widened and his face lost all trace of color. His hands fisted as he fought to keep his reaction concealed. A futile effort. Jon Smith had been trained by the best and knew well every trick and technique. Walters didn’t stand a chance.
“Where did Phillips take the woman and the girl?”
The militia man clenched his jaw, glaring at Brent.
Eli sighed, shaking his head. “Not smart, Judd. You don’t want to go up against us. You’ll lose.”
The man’s gaze searched the room as though seeking an escape. Brent’s lips curled. There wasn’t one. He glanced at Jon who shifted to another pressure point.
A loud groan escaped.
“The pain will escalate,” Jon murmured. “Answer his question and the pain stops.”
Judd shook his head.
A subtle movement from Jon and the living room filled with the militia man’s screams. When his screams died down to soft moans, Brent crossed the room to stand in front of Judd.
He waited until the soldier’s gaze met his. “Here’s what you need to know to survive the next ten minutes,” he said, his voice soft. “The woman Phillips took is my woman. I will do anything necessary to find her and bring her home. Nothing and no one will stand in my way. Not Phillips, not you, and none of your militia buddies. Unless you want to die for a man who left you to face us and the cops, you’ll tell me everything you know right now. Otherwise, I turn my friend loose on you. You’ll talk, then die in excruciating pain.”
He cocked his head. “Do you want to live or die, Judd?”
Another movement from Jon elicited a second round of screams. Brent flicked a glance at the sniper. The screams died off to moans. He waited, arms crossed, for the militia man to make his choice.
A glare of hatred came his way.
Brent raised a brow.
A short nod was his answer.
“Lie to me and I’ll leave you in my friend’s capable hands. You hear me?”
Another nod.
“Where is Phillips taking my woman, Judd?”
“Mexico.”
Brent’s blood ran cold through his veins though he made sure his expression revealed nothing. “Kind of vague, Judd. Mexico is a big place. Where in Mexico?”
“I don’t know. I swear,” his voice rose as Jon shifted his hold.
“Not good enough, Judd,” Jon murmured.
“Please. Wait.” Walters was silent a moment, obviously thinking hard. “The boss mentioned something about going to the people he’s been doing business with.” His lip curled.
Crap. Not what Brent wanted to hear. The woman he loved with every beat of his heart was heading into Chihuahua province, into the hands of the cartel that hated Brent and Fortress. “Did Phillips mention a name?”
“Some guy named Navarro. I don’t see how that can help. There must be a million people with that last name in Mexico.” Walters looked resigned to his fate.
“It’
s enough,” Brent said.
Jon stepped away and crossed the room to stand at Eli’s side.
Brent’s cell signaled an incoming text message. After a glance, he moved toward the front door.
“Hey, what about me?” Judd protested.
“Find another line of work. You aren’t cut out for this one.” Brent didn’t break stride. Outside, he said, “Chopper is two minutes out.”
“How many teams are available?” Eli asked as they climbed into the SUV.
“Not enough.”
“On-the-job training?”
Brent blinked. “Maybe.” He pulled out his phone and called Zane.
“What do you need?” his tech guru asked.
“Contact Greer at PSI. The training class is in their last week, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Phillips is taking Rowan and Alexa to Navarro territory.”
“Oh, man. He’s taking them to Lucero, isn’t he?”
“That would be my guess since that’s where Garcia has his hacienda and headquarters. Has Durango boarded the jet?”
“Not yet. The plane should land in twenty minutes.”
“Tell the pilot to wait. I need volunteers to go with Durango. Only those who trained as units, Zane. Emphasize that this is a volunteer assignment. However, if they go, they’ll be exempt from the last week of training at PSI. Tell Greer to have them pack heavy. We’re destroying the viper nest.”
“Copy that. Other orders?”
“Tell Roberts to pick up our SUV when he’s clear. We’ll leave it at the landing zone.” He hesitated a second. “You still have Rowan?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“I’ve got her, Brent. The signal is clear and strong.”
The invisible band around his chest loosened a fraction. “Are the planes ready at John C. Tune?”
“Yes, sir. One plane has two teams aboard, fully equipped and ready to go. Another team is on the second plane, waiting for you to arrive. Adam is also on board the second plane.”
“Tell the first plane to take off. I want a list of team leaders. We’ll coordinate our plan of attack in the air.”
“Roger that.”
Eli parked the SUV in the field at the edge of the landing zone. Within two minutes the chopper flew into sight and set down as though light as a feather. They each grabbed their Go bags and climbed inside.
Brent put on the headset. “Go.”
Immediately the pilot lifted off the ground, heading toward the airport where the Fortress jets were housed. When they landed at John C. Tune, Brent and the others unloaded quickly and jogged across the tarmac to the waiting jet.
He dropped into a seat next to Adam and activated the intercom. “Take off as soon as we have clearance. Push this baby as fast as she’ll go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Five minutes later, the plane powered up and taxied down the runway. Soon, they were airborne. When they leveled out, he unbuckled his seatbelt and motioned for Jon, Eli, and Adam to follow him to the conference table.
After they were seated, he said, “We have a few hours to nail down a plan. I don’t have to tell you how important this is. We can’t make any mistakes.”
“What’s the mission?” Adam asked. “Rowan and Alexa?”
“They’re my primary mission, but we have two others. St. Claire’s team is on the ground, scoping out the situation with the ambassador’s wife and kids. The last word we received from him indicated the situation was heating up fast. The president has also ordered us to take out Navarro, and shut down their drug and terrorist pipeline to the States.” A wry smile curved his lips. “Without anyone finding out this is a sanctioned operation.”
“Of course.” Eli blew out a breath. “No wonder we’re carrying enough artillery to start a war.”
“The Navarro cartel started this war years ago. I’m finishing it. No one hurts my woman and lives to tell about it.” He grabbed a laptop and clicked on the files Zane had sent to his email. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
When Alexa kept trying to climb Rowan like a tree, Rowan picked her up and carried her into the large house. Hacienda, maybe? The house looked old and stately from the outside. Stucco exterior, red clay tiles on the roof. The stranger on the plane hustled her and Alexa into the house before she could take a close look at her surroundings.
Inside, the air was cool and the furnishings reminded her of movies and pictures she’d seen of Spanish homes. Again, she wasn’t allowed to linger and absorb the view. She longed to slow their progress. A glance at Snake Skin told her that move wouldn’t be accepted with humor or grace.
The stranger led her and Phillips to a closed wooden door. A sharp rap on the panel with his knuckles and the door opened.
Rowan’s eyes widened at the sight of the linebacker-sized man who scanned her, then Phillips. He snapped out something in Spanish to Snake Skin. The man who’d met the plane scowled, then said to Phillips. “No weapons allowed in here.” A sly grin curved his lips. “Except ours.”
“I’m not going unarmed,” Phillips protested.
In the blink of an eye, Linebacker pointed a gun at Phillips. He wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if Phillips continued to object to surrendering his weapons.
Snake Skin searched Phillips and pocketed the gun he found before waving Linebacker aside. “Look at it this way, Phillips. You have us to protect you.” As though he’d said something hilarious, the two men guffawed. Clearly she was missing some vital clue to the conversation. Phillips looked as confused as she felt.
Linebacker stepped back, his gun still pointed at Phillips. “He’s waiting. Only you and the woman and kid.” A sneer at Hard Hands. “Your man waits in the hall.”
Snake Skin dragged Rowan into the plush office. Alexa burrowed even closer, burying her face against Rowan’s neck. She wished she could do the same. She had a bad feeling about this meeting.
Behind a massive teak desk sat a man with a patch over one eye, a long scar running down his cheek. Over his black shirt was a shoulder holster with large gun. Were the gun and holster a normal part of his attire? Probably, she decided. His career choice was downright dangerous.
The man’s gaze drifted down her body, making Rowan shudder in revulsion. His attention shifted to Phillips. “I don’t like surprises, my friend.” His voice was almost a purr.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices. Some make wiser decisions than others.”
Oh, boy. Rowan picked up the clear undercurrent from Patch. Danger and raw fury. Didn’t Phillips see the danger? What did he need, a flashing neon sign?
She scanned the room for an available exit. Bars covered the windows and Linebacker blocked the door with his body.
Something bad would happen. She felt it down to her bones. Not knowing what else to do, Rowan inched away from Phillips, closer to the outside wall. A cushioned chair looked like the best option for shelter. She had to protect Lex with whatever was available, including using a chair to shield her from direct view.
Snake Skin noticed her edging deeper into the room. Rowan motioned to the chair. Her response was a slight nod though he shifted position to keep her in sight.
Looked like Snake Skin wouldn’t stop her sitting down with Lex. Rowan crossed to the chair and sat on the edge of the seat.
“Why are you here, Phillips?” Patch’s cold gaze remained fixed on his quarry though Rowan had no doubt he was aware of every move she and the others made in the room.
“It’s Maxwell.”
Oh, man. Rowan covered Alexa’s ears, knowing where the conversation was headed next. She didn’t want her niece to learn of the deaths of her parents from Patch or Phillips.
“He’s dead and no longer of importance to me.”
“Yeah? He should be. The idiot kept a record of our transactions. All of them, Garcia.”
The boss stilled. “And you are only now telling me of this problem?”
“I was ha
ndling it.” Phillips slid a hatred-filled look toward Rowan. “The problem should have been resolved a few hours ago, but the woman ruined everything.”
“Your problem was Maxwell’s fault, then this woman’s? You blame everyone but yourself.” Garcia turned his gaze to Rowan. “Who is she and why did you bring her to my home?”
“This is Rowan Scott, Maxwell’s sister-in-law. She has the records. Or at least she did. I instructed her to turn them over to me. She refused.”
Not exactly the truth. Rowan frowned.
A dark eye narrowed at her. “Where are they, Ms. Scott? You would be wise to hand them over to me,” he said gently.
Somehow, the false gentleness was more terrifying than harsh behavior would have been. This man would shoot her and Alexa if he thought their deaths were necessary to protect himself and his business enterprise. “I don’t have them.”
“Tell him who has them, Ms. Scott,” Phillips snapped.
What choice did she have? Ironic, considering the point Garcia had made to Phillips. Again, her priority was keeping Alexa safe. She believed Brent wasn’t far behind her. She had to. To believe otherwise would destroy her hope. Besides, Phillips already knew Brent’s name. She prayed she hadn’t made a mistake and traded Brent’s life for theirs. “My boyfriend has the records.” She leveled a cutting glance at Phillips. “This man shot my boyfriend and kidnapped me before he obtained the records.”
“I see.” His gaze dropped to Alexa. “And the child? Why is she here?”
“A pawn in a deadly game.”
“Indeed. Did you kill Ms. Scott’s boyfriend, Phillips?”
“I…I don’t know. My men shot him in the chest, then grabbed the woman and brought her to me.”
“So now a trail leads from the records to Ms. Scott and her boyfriend to you.”
“I didn’t know he had them.”
“What is this boyfriend’s name?”
Phillips swallowed hard. “Brent Maddox.”
Garcia’s jaw clenched. “Fortress Security’s CEO is her boyfriend?”
A quick nod.
“You are indeed a fool, Phillips.” He stood slowly. “And I do not conduct business with fools.” He grabbed his gun from the holster, aimed at Phillips, and pulled the trigger. Between one breath and the next, Phillips’ protests stopped and he dropped to the floor in a heap, a bullet hole dotting his forehead.