He rounded the building and was happy to see Irene waiting, as he’d requested.
“Anything?” she whispered.
“Not yet.”
Irene grabbed his arm. “The fire? Won’t they see it?”
He smiled. He really liked this woman. She thought like he did. “I smothered it with sand.”
“Oh, good thinking.”
He pointed to the ground. “Settle in. We might be here for a while.”
Her eyes widened as she lowered her body to the sand. “Where are you going?”
“I won’t go far. I’m just going to make my way to higher ground. As you said, I want to make sure I’m right. I can’t imagine anyone saw our SOS already, but just in case, I want to hear what they have to say.”
Blinking rapidly against the bright sun, she lifted her hand to his. “Alex, please be careful.”
“Of course.” He stared down at her, then lowered himself until they were face to face. “My problems are far from over, Irene, but … I don’t want to die; I know that now more than ever. Please believe me.”
She touched his cheek. “I don’t want you to die either, Alex.”
“And I’m sorry for what I said about you and where you live. You obviously understand a lot about human nature. I was wrong to lash out at you. I swear I didn’t mean it.” He pressed his lips to hers for a quick kiss before she could respond, then stood. She didn’t need to respond. He was the one who’d been a jerk. “We’ll talk later. Stay here, okay? No matter what. Even if something happens to me, know that my family will be here soon. I promise.”
Again, her eyes widened, then she blinked back tears. “Alex …”
“I’ll be fine, honey. I’m just thinking ahead. Everything will be all right.”
She nodded and settled back down, her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked like a little girl trying to play hide ’n’ seek by just burying her head in her hands.
He forced a smile that he hoped would comfort her, then walked toward the edge of the barracks, farthest away from the cabin. The birds squawked as he passed, but seagulls always squawked. For no reason at all, the entire group would get into an uproar, and then settle down. No one who lived anywhere near the coast would think anything of them belting out a round of protest.
Alex crawled up the embankment, making his way behind a track of seagrass bordering the road. This team was coming by water, which meant they’d be coming up the road, which doubled as the runway, on foot. He moved to his belly, working his way through the sharp blades. He had the higher ground, and more than likely, the team wouldn’t be looking for a couple eyes peering through the grass; they’d be looking on the ground for the duffle bags. If he were lucky, he’d have the advantage.
Minutes ticked by. What would Irene be thinking by now? That he was crazy? That she shouldn’t trust a man who admitted to wanting to commit suicide? Had she believed him when he told her he wasn’t the least bit suicidal? The last thing he wanted was to die; he’d proven that to himself yesterday. A part of him still wanted to fix the situation, though. Still wanted the nightmares to stop.
There has to be another way …
“Over here!” A man’s voice called from the other side of the dune leading from the beach.
This is it. Alex clenched and unclenched his fists, digging his fingers into the icy wet sand. Adrenaline filled his veins as if he were rappelling down a cliff face, one of his least favorite rescues. He could only imagine what Irene was doing. Would she stay put as he’d requested?
A shaved head came into view, quickly followed by the man’s body, dressed in black. All black. From his T-shirt that poked out through his open black coat, to the faded black jeans and black combat boots. Even the knife strapped to his thigh and the gun and holster clipped to a tactical belt were black. The man looked like retired military … or a wannabe soldier.
Another man, this one with a head of blond dreads pulled back in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, tromped over the dune. Like his older counterpart, he was dressed all in black. “Damn, dude! What’s that stench? And damn … those birds make it hard to think!”
The older man smacked the younger one upside the head. “As if you think. If you thunked before you jumped, we wouldn’t be standing in frozen bird crap. And ain’t you never seen kittiwakes before?”
“A kitty-what?”
“It’s a type of seagull, numbnuts.” The combat-ready man waved a black-gloved hand at the hundreds of circling scavengers above them. “Stupid hick!”
“Damn straight! And proud of it! All’s we got that smells like that is chickens. But at least we can eat them bitches.”
The older man waved the younger man forward this time. “Run up the road a piece. The drop is usually between the shack and the next hill.”
Oh crap. As he’d thought, Kevin hadn’t been trying to land. He’d just been flying low enough to find the drop point. If they don’t find the duffle bags, they’ll assume Kevin might have dropped them behind the barracks.
He inched backward, keeping his belly against the sand. As soon as he was sure he was out of range, he ran toward the bird coop.
Irene hadn’t moved. She was still huddled against the siding, head tucked and arms draped around her knees.
As quietly as was possible in his alarmed state, he inched his way to her.
Her head popped up and a squeak emitted before she realized it was him.
He lifted his fingers to his mouth, and he knew his eyes must be wider than they felt, since she was staring at him as if he were a ghost. He waved for her to come up the embankment, but she stayed where she was, shell-shocked. She’d obviously heard the new arrivals and had deduced, as he had, that they weren’t here to rescue, but to collect.
As much as he didn’t want to waste the time, he knew, just like one of his rescuees who were afraid to move, he needed to make her move. He moved sideways down the knoll, creating deep indentations. He’d have to cover the holes once they were back at the top. He doubted either of the men would be able to climb the unstable mound.
Beside her now, he gently nudged her up and to his side.
Irene shook her head, her eyes wide. Clearly, knowing they were drug dealers made her nervous. Then again, it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and she’d lived through an airplane crash, almost drowned, and then had been taken hostage at gunpoint. She had to break eventually. He just couldn’t afford for her to lose it right now.
“It’s okay, honey,” he whispered. “We’re just going to go over the dune.”
Her clammy hands latched around his arm, tighter than earlier, and he helped her up the sandbank. She slipped several times, but he managed to get a good grip on a root system. With one final push beneath her, he vaulted her up to the top of the ridge.
Alex gripped the edge, but there was nothing but sand. He dug and dug, but only came up with sand. His feet couldn’t find purchase either, as he’d stripped away most of the plants with his previous two trips. His left hand burned where he clenched the root. He couldn’t hold on much longer.
He threw his right arm up again, determined to grab onto anything, and Irene clamped her hand over his arm, her fingers encircling his wrist.
“Lie down, Irene,” he whispered loud enough for her to hear, but hopefully not enough to rise above the squawking birds.
With her gripping his wrist, it was just enough pressure for him to dig his hand into the sand and pull himself up. He sure didn’t like rock climbing, but all his practice with Erik was paying off.
“Oh, thank God!” Irene said on a quivering breath.
“Come on.” Alex moved to a squat and pulled her with him, staying low as they made their way down the other side of the dune. The west side of the island wasn’t as steep as the east side, where wind and waves had carved steep cliffs.
Together, they inched themselves through the sea grass.
“Try not to grab the grass, Irene. The blades are sharper than they look.”
“I know,” she mumbled. “You told me that yesterday.”
Alex bit his lip and smiled as he moved down the embankment, Irene by his side. One thing was for sure, as sensitive and helpless as Irene could seem, she recovered quickly. Maybe he’d been wrong when he thought she was a fragile city girl. Maybe Irene could keep up with his chaotic lifestyle.
If they made it home alive, that is.
Chapter 12
~ Alex ~
On the other side of the dune, Alex directed Irene toward the shipwreck.
“We’ll be able to spy on them from there,” he said, pointing to the beached cargo ship. “We’ll be above them anyway. That way we’ll know when they return to their boat.”
“I thought you said the ship was unsafe.”
“To set up camp, it is. The top is exposed to the elements, and what’s left of the hull is rusted out. Not to mention that the numerous birds that make their homes in it, won’t appreciate the intrusion. We’ll stay near the exterior.”
Alex really wanted to linger near the cabin and listen to the men’s chatter, but doing so would be unwise. As much as he doubted that the black-clad dealers would try to climb the dune, he couldn’t take a chance. He assumed they’d scour the island the best they could, though. That amount of drugs had to be worth a small fortune. Hell, it was probably worth a large fortune.
The duffle bags had been stuffed to the seams, and they weighed about the normal checked-bag weight of fifty pounds each. He’d heard meth’s street value in Alaska was about forty dollars a gram — his area anyway; supposedly it went for much more in Anchorage — and there are roughly 450 grams in a pound. That’s 450 times forty …
He gave up trying to multiply the numbers in his head. “Irene, is that your phone in your jeans pocket?”
She turned to him, ducking her head as she reached for her back pocket. “Habit. Although, it does have an amazing camera, so I figured I could capture some pics.”
Alex waved off her obvious embarrassment. “I understand. Can I borrow it? Or … would you just calculate something for me. I’m pretty good at math, but the number I’m coming up with seems too high.”
She stepped toward him. “Shoot.”
He shot his gaze around them, making sure they weren’t in eye or ear range. “Multiply 450 times 40 and then multiply that by 100.”
“One million, eight hundred thousand.”
He swiped his hands across his chin, but couldn’t keep his heart from racing and his face from burning hot.
“One point eight million,” she said softly. “That’s what you said yesterday … the amount of your life insurance.”
“Thirty times my annual salary. That’s the most the insurance company would let me take out.”
Irene huffed and shook her head. “I don’t understand. What are you doing? I thought you said —”
Alex waved his hand to stop her. Bile rose in his throat and he felt like he might puke. He inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm his heart. Irene was right. Life isn’t fair.
“Alex? What’s going on? I thought you decided —”
“Those men,” he cut off her words, “they’re looking for the duffle bags. Two fifty-pound duffle bags with a street value of meth worth one point eight million dollars. My life is worth two duffle bags of meth, Irene.”
“Oh, Alex …” She stumbled forward, latching onto his arm as she tripped over a rock. “Your life is worth way more than that. How could you think that?”
He shrugged. “That’s all I’m worth, honey. That’s all the insurance company would give me because that’s all that I’m worth. Sixty thousand a year times thirty years. If I can work search and rescue until I’m sixty-three, that is.” He lifted his head to the heavens, hoping his stupid eyes would dry. “Two duffle bags of poison.”
“Alex …” She rested her hands on his arm again.
“I’m okay.” He trudged forward. “You just never add that up, you know. How much you’re worth.” Irene huffed beside him, so he stared down at her. “What? Have you?”
She shrugged. “I have life insurance … but … what difference does it make? I haven’t spoken with the people who would benefit from my death in more than seventeen years.”
Alex patted her hand. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”
She peered up at him and actually smiled. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
Alex continued to scan their surroundings as they approached the rusted-out ship. The bird chatter increased as they grew near. He also saw the men’s anchored boat, but as he’d hoped, no one was waiting on the beach.
“Pretty cool.” Irene moved her gaze to the heights of the S.S. Colebrook, the sides of which were at least forty-some feet over her head. She pulled out her iPhone again and snapped a few pictures. “If we do make it home, this is going to be one hell of a story.”
Only a journalist would think about a story and not the dangerous men half a mile away. He couldn’t argue with her comment though, but he could argue with if. “When we make it home, you mean.”
She flashed a grin over her shoulder. “When we make it back, Alex.”
He smiled and stepped up beside her. For some reason he couldn’t understand, Irene thought he was worth more than he was. Her faith in him, he realized, was important. He wanted her to know she could count on him. His family would show up by tomorrow or the next day, he was certain, so all he had to do was keep her safe until they arrived.
“Can we go inside?” she asked, her voice chipper. Amazing how she seemingly forgot about the two drug runners with weapons strapped to their sides.
With her inquisitive nature, keeping Irene safe until a search and rescue team arrived might be harder than he’d hoped. “I don’t think going inside is a good idea, but we can walk to the opening in the hull and look in. We need to keep our heads down, though. No telling when those men will head back to the beach.”
And they’ll be mad. And they have weapons. Neither of which he wanted to suggest to Irene.
~ Irene ~
Irene stared up at the ship as they walked along its sandy berth. She’d never stood outside a ship on land, only when it was docked. But this ship had found itself beached high above the ocean. Like Alex had said, once upon a time it had been moored in water, and now she could imagine wildflowers sprouting up along its rusty hull in the spring.
Above them, the familiar sounds of their constant companions shrilled unhappily at the intrusion. Behind them, the constant rhythm of the waves crashing against the rocks and sand drowned out any background noise, so she kept her eyes scanning her surroundings, watching for any unwanted arrivals.
Similar to when she’d worked on the San Francisco streets, her adrenaline bubbled at the surface, ready to kick into gear if she needed to run or defend herself. She gripped the stun gun in her jacket pocket, always making sure that she had it in the right position. She practiced repeatedly at home, tested the on-button, knew how to slide it into the ready position. Then she’d pull it out, push the button, watch as the mini lightning bolts lit up her bathroom. She hadn’t been ready when Kevin attacked her, but she’d be ready if those thugs found them.
“They can’t stay long,” Alex said, as if he’d heard her unspoken words.
“Excuse me?” she asked, hoping he’d clarify his statement. She sure hoped that she wasn’t already getting cabin fever and speaking her thoughts aloud without knowing.
“Those men … They anchored their boat right offshore. The shelf is wide due to the uplift from the earthquake I mentioned, but when the tide comes in, they won’t be able to wade to the boat.”
Irene scanned the beach. “When will that be?”
Alex looked up as if in thought, then scanned the horizon. “The tide was going out about 9:30, so my guess is that it will start coming back in around 4:30, which means the waves will be too powerful to clear.”
“Four thirty is right about sunset,” she added, “so those men probably won’t even wait that long. Doubtful they�
��ll want to make that hike in the dark.”
Alex nodded. “Exactly.”
Her hand in his as he led her to the bow, she scanned the length of the boat. “This beast’s as long as a football field.”
“At least.” Alex looked to the front and back. “Probably a fraction more.”
He removed his backpack and dug inside, pulling out a beach-size towel from the cabin. He spread it over a sun-dried patch of grass. The highest mount at the southwestern side of the island, their current spot was devoid of snow. Probably because it received the most sunlight.
Irene fished out one of the protein bars from her pack and sat cross-legged on the towel. “Whale watching, drug runners, and a picnic lunch of protein bars … I’m telling you, Alex, you could charge a fortune for this excursion.”
Alex lifted a protein bar from the side pocket on his pack and settled beside her. “Hmm … maybe so. Sam has considered leading hikes. He figures he and Nora could make money on the front end, instead of hoping for donations from rescuing people who paid a fortune to visit Alaska.”
Irene stared at Alex as a thought occurred to her. “You know, I’m curious … Isn’t Nora willing to help the company out? From my research on blockbuster movies, she probably made several million just on her first one.”
Alex sighed. “Her agent controlled everything. And with the investigation into his practices, the money could be tied up in probate for years.”
“Couldn’t she get a new role … or a fight?”
This time Alex’s face was wistful, but in a good way, as if he were thinking about Sam and Nora. “She’s pregnant.”
“Oh …” Irene laughed. “A UFC fight or even fighting bad guys in a movie is definitely out of the question.”
Alex nodded his agreement, but she could see that he still had that far-off look. Obviously, he’d thought the same thing … That meeting Nora could have saved his father’s business and save him from throwing away his life.
Without warning, the anger simmered inside her again.
Alex lifted his hand to her cheek. “What is it?”
Alex's Atonement (Midnight Sons Book 2) Page 13