Ivy's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 4)

by Elle James

  The two men hit him with their shoulders, square in the gut, grabbed his arms and pushed him to the edge of the bluff.

  Ivy dodged her attacker and ran toward Duff.

  He fought them, getting a few good punches in before they lifted him off his feet and sent him flying over the edge of the cliff.

  Ivy screamed. A hand clamped over her mouth and around her arms.

  She struggled and kicked but couldn’t break the hold. Soon, the other two men returned to help her captor carry her back to the road where they’d parked a maintenance van behind a stand of bushes.

  “Let me go,” she yelled as they shoved her through the side door and onto the metal floor of the van.

  She landed on her hands and knees and scrambled backward, trying to get out.

  Two men climbed in after her. One yanked her arms behind her and sat on her legs while the other secured her wrists together with duct tape. They taped her ankles together next.

  “Get the hell off me. You can’t do this!” She screamed again, the sound filling the van, deafening her ears.

  The guy who’d bound her wrists and legs slapped a piece of tape over her mouth and muttered a curse at her in Spanish.

  Once they’d secured her hands and feet, the two men left her in the middle of the van floor. One climbed into the passenger seat beside the driver. The other sat against the door working with a black case.

  Ivy rolled and squirmed, desperate to get out of the van and back to Duff.

  Sweet Jesus, she hoped he’d hit the water, not the rocks below. She had to get away and go for help.

  Her captor by the door withdrew a syringe from the case, stuck it into a small vial and withdrew liquid. Then he set the case and the vial aside and came toward her.

  Ivy froze. She couldn’t let him stick that needle into her. Duff’s life could depend on her ability to get away. She didn’t give a damn about herself, but Duff didn’t deserve to die because of her. He couldn’t die. He was a good guy, someone she could see herself with for the long-term.

  She’d just found him. It couldn’t end like this.

  As the man approached her, Ivy lay perfectly still. When he was close enough, she turned on her side and shoved her legs at him, hitting him full in the gut.

  He flew backward, hitting the door with a hard thud. Muttering curses, he came at her again, this time from behind, avoiding her legs this time. When he got close enough, he sat on her knees.

  Ivy couldn’t move. She tried, but she couldn’t even roll out of position.

  The man jabbed the needle into her arm and emptied it into her.

  Her vision blurred and her head spun. She closed her eyes and prayed Duff was all right.

  Please. Please be all right.

  Darkness consumed her.

  Chapter 10

  Duff hit the water hard. Air shot from his lungs on impact, before he sank beneath the surface.

  As he dropped toward the bottom, he thought, How just. How fitting that his death hadn’t been from being shot at or blown up by an IED or mortar round. That he should die by drowning seemed appropriate after he’d allowed Katie the same sentence.

  Stunned by the jolt when he hit, he drifted slowly, unable to move, unable to do anything but let the water take him down to the murky depths of the lake.

  As he sank, he looked up at the light, wondering if his body would be found in a day, a month, a year. Not really caring that he would die.

  When he touched the bottom, something clicked inside.

  Those men who’d shoved him over the cliff hadn’t wanted to kill him so much as get him out of the way.

  So they could take Ivy.

  Motion returned to his body. He bunched his legs beneath him and kicked off the giant boulders at the bottom of the lake, shooting himself upward toward the surface.

  Ivy was in trouble. She needed him, and he was at the bottom of the lake, useless to help her.

  They could be a county away by now, and he would never catch up. He couldn’t let them hurt her. He’d just found her. Found the one for him.

  Like Zip said, as soon as he’d met her, he’d known. At least he’d known in his subconscious. His stupid consciousness had stood in his way of admitting it. Guilt over loving another woman who wasn’t Katie had held him back.

  But Ivy. She was amazing. Smart, beautiful, independent, and determined. What more could he want in a life partner?

  If he didn’t get out of the lake and find her, he might not get that chance to ask her to be with him for the rest of their lives, no matter how long that might be.

  She made him want more out of life. She made him want to take another chance on love.

  When he thought his lungs might burst or that he’d have to inhale and suck in a shit load of water, he burst through the surface and out into the open air.

  Sucking in lungs full of air, he swam to shore and ran up the narrow game trail to the top.

  His bike was there, but Ivy wasn’t.

  Thankfully, the men who’d taken her hadn’t touched his motorcycle. His cellphone was toast, having gone over the cliff and into the lake in his pocket. He shook it and prayed for reception or that it would even turn on. Alas, it didn’t.

  Duff leaped onto his motorcycle and raced down the road and out onto the highway, speeding up to eighty miles per hour.

  When a policeman got behind him with his blue lights flashing, Duff sent up a prayer to the heavens to send help his way.

  He pulled over, jumped off his motorcycle, and ran toward the police car.

  The officer emerged from his service vehicle, gun drawn. “Stop right there and put your hands up,” he called out.

  “I’m not the criminal,” Duff said, his hands in the air. “My girlfriend and I were attacked. They pushed me into the lake and took my girlfriend. You have to help me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. Give me your driver’s license. Make any sudden moves and I’ll shoot.”

  “Reaching for my wallet,” Duff called out. He kept one hand in the air and reached into his wet back pocket and extracted his sodden billfold. He tossed it to the officer and raised his hand again. “I’m a soldier from Ft. Hood. My girlfriend is Ivy Fremont, Senator Elizabeth Fremont’s daughter. Call your supervisor, get him to get Senator Fremont on the phone. She’ll know me, and she’ll know that I’m telling the truth.”

  The officer pulled out Duff’s license and called in the number to dispatch.

  “Please,” Duff begged. “The sooner we put out an alert, the better chance we have of finding her. There’s no telling where they’ll take her.”

  The officer ignored his entreaties, continuing to talk on his radio to dispatch. Finally, he looked up. “Mr. McCormick, you realize you were going eighty-five miles per hour in a fifty-five zone?”

  Anger burned in Duff. “Do you not understand? My girlfriend was kidnapped. The men who took her tried to kill me. You’re damn right I was going over the speed limit. My cellphone was waterlogged when they pushed me over the cliff into the lake. I couldn’t call 911.”

  Another police car arrived, lights flashing.

  An older man got out. He spoke to the original officer and then turned to Duff. “I got a hold of Senator Fremont’s assistant. She was able to confirm that a Magnus McCormick is in fact dating her daughter. The question is, how do we know you weren’t the one to kidnap her daughter?”

  “Because I was pushed into the lake. I couldn’t kidnap her daughter when I was trying not to drown. Could you at least let me borrow your cellphone so that I can call 911 and report a missing person, since you aren’t taking me seriously?”

  The radio crackled. The older police officer stepped away to answer the call while the younger one continued to point his service weapon at Duff.

  “You don’t seem to understand,” Duff said. “My girlfriend is in danger. Please, let me use a cellphone. I need to call my friends if you’re not going to do anything about it.”

  The older police offic
er returned. “Let him go. His story pans out. The senator has had threats to herself and her family. The chief put out an APB for the return of Senator Fremont’s daughter. Roadblocks are being set up on the interstate and on the roads leading out of Belton and Killeen.” The man held out his cellphone. “Sir, you can use my personal cellphone. Sorry for the trouble.”

  Duff grabbed the phone and dialed Merlin’s number. “Merlin, Duff here. Need to gather the team.”

  “What’s up?” Merlin asked. “Why are you calling on this number?”

  “They got Ivy.”

  “When?”

  Duff gave a brief version of what happened. “We need to get Senator Fremont on the horn and find out who we’re dealing with and where they might have taken her.”

  “Where are you now?” Merlin asked.

  “Near Lake Belton on my way to Killeen.”

  “Meet me at my place. I’ll have the others assemble here. ETA?”

  “Ten minutes.” Duff ended the call and handed the phone back to the police officer.

  “If you’d like a police escort, we’ve been instructed to provide one.”

  “I’ll take you up on it,” Duff said. “As long as we can exceed the speed limit.”

  “You’ve got it,” the older officer said.

  Both police officers jumped into the cars as Duff mounted his motorcycle.

  The older officer took the lead, followed by Duff and then the younger officer.

  They pushed ninety all the way into Killeen. Once Duff turned off the main road, the police officers disengaged.

  Moments later, Duff pulled up to Merlin’s place.

  His team came out of the house to greet him.

  “You all right?” Zip asked.

  “Heard you took a fall off a cliff, man.” Jangles clapped him on the back. “Glad you made it out of the lake.”

  Woof poked his head out the door. “Merlin’s got the senator on the phone. You need to get in here.”

  Duff entered Merlin’s place. Merlin stood at the table with his tablet propped up and a video call in progress with Ivy’s mother.

  “Magnus,” she said as he came into view of the tablet’s webcam. “I thought you were the man to keep my daughter safe.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’ll find her.”

  “I think I can help you.”

  “How so, ma’am?”

  “If she’s wearing the necklace I gave her for her last birthday, it has a tracking device embedded in it.”

  Hope bloomed in Duff’s chest. “She was wearing a necklace.”

  “Was it gold with a green pendant?” the senator asked.

  “Green the color of her eyes?” he asked.

  “That’s it.”

  “Yes. She was wearing it.”

  “I’ve got my men on it. They’re pulling it up now. How big a head start did they get?”

  “From the time I hit the water to the time I called Merlin, about thirty minutes.”

  “They could be anywhere in thirty minutes,” Zip said.

  “Wait. They’ve got a location,” the senator said. She turned away from her webcam. “Where?”

  Duff held his breath and waited.

  She turned back to Duff. “Apparently, there’s a small general aviation airport near Killeen.” She turned back to whoever she was talking with. “It’s Skylark Field. The tracker indicates that’s where she is.”

  “I’m on it.” Duff spun and was out the door in two seconds.

  He heard Merlin call out, “Zip, give him your cellphone.”

  Zip followed. “Here, take my phone since yours is out of commission. I’ll be right behind you.” He jumped into his Corvette and followed Duff down the highway.

  Duff pulled into the terminal and was off his motorcycle before the engine completely shut down. Zip’s phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out to see Merlin’s number. “Yeah,” he answered.

  “Fremont says the tracking device is out on the tarmac about fifty yards straight out from the terminal.

  Inside, he approached the counter. “I need to get out on the tarmac.”

  “Sir, I’ll need to see your ID and know your reason for going out on the field.” She held out her hand.

  “My girlfriend was kidnapped, and we think she might be out on the field right now.”

  “I’ll still need to see your ID.” Her hand still out, she waited.

  Zip ran inside. “What’s the hold-up?”

  Duff threw his wallet at the woman. “My ID is in there. If she’s out there, we have to get to her before they take off with her.”

  The woman took out his military ID. “You can go.” She hit a button behind the counter, opening the sliding glass doors leading out onto the tarmac.

  Duff raced through the door.

  Behind him, he heard the woman say, “Not you,” to Zip. “I’ll need to see your ID.”

  Duff didn’t wait. “Fifty yards,” he said with the cellphone on speaker.

  Merlin responded. “Give or take.”

  Duff stared out at the tarmac. “Straight out?” He slowed to a halt.

  “Straight out from the FBO.”

  “There’s nothing there,” he said, his tone flat, his heart sinking to his knees.

  “There has to be. The tracker shows her there.” Duff walked out fifty yards, searching the ground. Something glinted in the sunshine. He hurried toward the shiny object and bent to find the necklace Ivy had worn that day and the night before. “I found her necklace. She’s not here.”

  Zip ran up behind him. “That’s the device?”

  Duff nodded and looked to the sky. “She was here.” He turned and ran back to the terminal. The door slid open. “What aircraft just took off?”

  “Sir, I can’t answer that question.”

  “Do you know what plane just left from here?”

  “The plane that was out on the tarmac didn’t require fuel. I don’t have a record of his tail number,” the woman said. “If they filed a flight plan, you can look them up on one of the flight tracking apps.”

  “Which one?” Duff asked.

  The woman showed him how to download the app on Zip’s cellphone.

  “What’s happening,” Merlin’s voice came over the cellphone’s speaker.

  “Hold a minute,” Duff said as the app came online.

  “There,” the receptionist said and pointed to the green dotted line where a plane had left the small airport. “That has to be it. Click on the tail number and it will bring up the flight plan.”

  He clicked on the tail number and the flight plan came into view.

  Duff cursed.

  “Costa Rica?” Zip said, leaning over Duff’s shoulder.

  “They’re headed to Costa Rica?” Merlin asked over the speaker.

  “Looks that way,” Duff said.

  “Do we have time to scramble military aircraft to divert them?” Merlin asked.

  “No,” Duff said. “They’re almost to the Mexican border. And what could military aircraft do? Shoot them down?” He shook his head. “We want to save Ivy, not kill her.”

  “I’ll work with her mother to see if we can contact any special agents on the ground in Costa Rica to intercept the plane when it lands.”

  “Heading back to your place,” Duff said. “Anything they can do will help.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll contact the CO and see what we can do to scramble our team for an extraction.”

  “To Costa Rica?” Duff asked, a fleeting spark of hope growing inside.

  Merlin snorted. “Where else?”

  Chapter 11

  Ivy woke with a splitting headache, her hands and feet numb and pain in her hip where she’d been laying on a hard floor for who knew how long.

  She opened her eyes to sunlight finding its way around blinds in a window above her. Not her room. Not her bed. Where the hell am I?

  Slowly, the events following her picnic at the lake with Duff came back to her and she jerked to full wakefulness.r />
  Duff.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Had he survived the fall from the cliff? God, she hoped he had.

  If she got out of the restraints holding her wrists and ankles, she’d kick some ass.

  Ivy twisted and turned in an attempt to sit and take stock of her surroundings. Nothing about them was familiar. Even the smell.

  She heard voices on the other side of a wooden door. They were speaking Spanish. She wished she could remember even half of what she’d learned of Spanish in the two years she’d taken it during her undergraduate degree at Texas A&M University.

  She had no idea where they’d taken her or how long she’d been unconscious. All she knew was that she couldn’t rely on anyone else. No one knew where she was. She had to get herself out of this situation. Whatever they wanted from her mother, they wouldn’t get. Her mother had a policy…she didn’t negotiate with terrorists.

  Not even for her daughter.

  The room was bare except for a rickety bed with a thin, soiled mattress in one corner, bare of sheets, blankets or a pillow.

  The room was stifling hot with no air movement and no sign of air conditioning ducts or a window unit. The walls were some sort of stucco with peeling paint and cracks in the finish, showing the ragged bricks beneath.

  If she could get close enough to one of the cracks, she might be able to scrape the tape off her wrists.

  Scooting across the floor, she made her way to the wall a few short feet away. Then she turned and backed up, but her wrists were too low to reach the crack while she sat on the floor.

  Listening for footsteps, she rolled over and up onto her knees and backed up to the wall again. This time, she could reach the crack with her wrists and began rubbing the tape against the bricks.

  She worked at the tape for several minutes, unsure how well it was working, but hopeful that if she rubbed at the duct tape long enough, it would eventually wear through.

  Voices sounded on the other side of the door.

  Her heart hammering against her ribs, she dropped to the floor and lay on her side with her eyes shut. She opened them a slit. Enough to see what was going on at the door.

  Metal scraped against metal as a key was inserted into the lock and turned. The doorknob turned and the door swung open.