She started at ten because he’d probably been gone that long. She eased Killion’s towel from her shoulders and laid it in a neat pile in the sand. The idea of getting naked in front of a stranger made her feel sick. But these people were not day-trippers, they were here to hurt her and Killion. She wasn’t about to let a little natural reticence get them both killed. She might not be able to fire a gun, but she could show her breasts to some moron too stupid to know she was part of the plan. She got to seventy and pulled on the tie at the back of her bikini top, slipped it over her head, and dropped it to the ground next to the towel. At eighty-five she climbed gingerly down the rocks into the swell of the surf out of sight of the man on the beach. The water wasn’t cold, but it still took her breath. She struck out gingerly toward the beach and knew the moment he spotted her because he stood, resting one hand on his handgun. Even the short swim made her limbs quiver with exhaustion—or maybe that was fear. Her feet hit the sandy bottom and she stood, water streaming over her breasts and down her stomach. She grabbed the bikini bottoms as the weight of the water threatened to drag them down her legs. Crap. Now that would be a distraction.
She smiled at the guy and kept walking toward him, putting a little sway in her hips.
“Can I help you?” she asked in English even though she knew he probably didn’t speak the language.
She kept her eyes off the flash of movement behind him, just let her mouth open in shock as he grabbed his crotch and leered at her.
“Ven acá, nena.” Come here, baby. He reached toward her with grabby hands and she took a step back. He caught her wrist, dragging her toward him, eyes latched onto her jiggling breasts.
Killion grabbed the man from behind and twisted his neck sharply to an unnatural angle. The man fell dead at his feet. Bile seared her throat.
“Get in the boat.” Killion was ripping the dead man’s shirt from his body and putting it on, along with the greasy Panama hat and mirrored sunglasses. He stuffed the revolver in the back of his shorts.
Audrey ran to the boat and started pushing it into the surf, trying to be more than just a distraction. Strong hands gripped her hips.
“In the boat, Aud, now. Do as I say and we might get out of this alive.”
His fingers sent a shockwave of heat through her. Maybe it was being topless in broad daylight. Maybe it was knowing Killion had just killed to protect her—because she knew instinctively he could have swum as far as was needed.
She climbed into the boat and sat quickly as he shoved the craft back into the surf. Once they were floating clear of the breakers he jumped in and started the engine.
“Sit up front and hold your hands behind your back as if you’re tied up.”
Audrey did as she was told, painfully aware of the cold breeze scraping her exposed skin, her nipples beaded and goose flesh pebbling her body.
“I’d cover you up, but I need to use the distraction technique again.”
“What if someone finds the dead man and radios the trawler?” she asked, glancing back at Killion. The guy had seen her naked so often now she didn’t know why she even worried about clothes anymore.
Next time she’d make sure he got naked too, just to even the score. The idea made her tip her chin defiantly. Beat the heck out of vomiting over the side of the boat the way she wanted to.
“We need to take over the fishing boat before they make contact. These guys aren’t going to let us take it from them without a fight. The cartel will probably kill them if they fail.”
The cartel? Mano de Dios had followed her all the way to this tiny island? What the hell was going on?
Killion pulled his gun and handled the boat with one hand hidden behind his back. A man popped his head over the side of the fishing trawler. Audrey forced her chin up and chest out. If she was going to be the token female she was going to play the part to the best of her ability.
A radio squawked.
They got closer and while the man was leering at Audrey, Killion shot him in the head. Audrey flinched at the spray of blood and watched him fall dead into the water. Her mouth went dry and nausea stirred in her belly.
“Hold it together, darlin’, or we’re both going to wind up dead.”
Their inflatable bumped into the side of the trawler, and Killion grabbed one of the floats, quickly tying their rope to it.
“I’ll be right back.” He tucked the gun into the waistband of his shorts—good thing they hadn’t decided to go skinny-dipping—and monkey crawled around the side of the boat toward the prow.
Audrey felt ridiculously vulnerable standing there almost naked. Was there anyone else on board? She stood up on tiptoes. A loud bang had her dropping to the floor as a bullet whizzed overhead. Dammit! Footsteps made her look up and another dark-haired man peered over the side. This one didn’t look entranced by her boobs. His eyes narrowed, and he swung a big black gun toward her.
Oh, hell.
She threw herself overboard just as he pulled the trigger.
* * *
“AUDREY!” KILLION RAN to the side of the boat and looked into the inflatable, frantically searching for the woman he was struggling to keep alive.
He’d taken care of a guy in the wheelhouse who’d been trying to raise the troops attacking the house, but the geniuses had left the radio in the boat. Then he’d turned around and seen another man leaning over the railings with a bead on Audrey. The guy got a shot off before Killion managed to send him to hell. But there was no sign of his brave, nerdy, frog friend.
Shit. Where the hell was she? He needed to search the trawler for any other bad guys, but he couldn’t let Audrey drown—assuming she hadn’t been killed. The thought made something desperate twist inside him. Then a hand reached over the side of the inflatable and a dark head emerged from the water. Her eyes met his, haunted, scared. Still alive.
Sweet Jesus. She was going to be the death of him.
“Can you climb up without my help?” His voice came out meaner than he’d intended, like he wanted to rip off someone’s head. She gritted her teeth and nodded, flinging her arms over the side, hooking her leg over until she rolled virtually naked into the bottom of the boat.
No bullet holes, which was a blessing, and her stab wound hadn’t reopened, bonus. He closed his eyes in relief. Then he reached down and gripped her hand, hauling her aboard the trawler, and pulled her close for a quick, wet hug. She was shivering and had her hands crossed over her breasts. The woman had spent more time naked in his presence than any other woman he’d ever met, and he hadn’t even kissed her properly yet.
Yet?
He tore off the stolen shirt and dragged it over her shoulders, pulling it closed at the front. “I’ve gotta make sure there’s no one else on board. Come on.” He took her by the hand. Her teeth chattered, and she was shaking, probably from shock rather than cold. Inside the wheelhouse he showed her the lock. “Don’t let anyone in except me, okay?”
She nodded, those violet eyes of hers huge now. He stepped over the body of the captain, took the man’s weapon, and pressed it into her palm. “Safety is off this time.” He gripped the back of her neck and drew her close, kissing her on the lips. “Don’t shoot me.”
Killion went out the door and made sure Audrey locked it after him. As soon as he heard the click of the latch he began a systematic search of the vessel, checking every inch including the stinking cargo hold. He found enough weapons to start a war, but no other would-be killers. He went up on deck, got his pack from the inflatable, and eased the body of the man who’d shot at Audrey overboard. With luck he’d never be found. Killion went back to the wheelhouse and knocked loudly. “Aud?”
The door opened immediately, and she held out the gun to him with the barrel pointed to the deck. “Take it. I’m scared I’m going to accidentally pull the trigger.”
Killion didn’t argue. He tucked it in the waistband of his shorts, along with his own weapon, and both dug uncomfortably into his butt. He went through the captain’s poc
kets until he found a cell phone. He took it, then picked up the dead captain by his feet and dragged him over the lip of the door and down the steps onto the deck. He shoved the man over the side with the others. When he turned around, Audrey was staring at him from the wheelhouse door with a look of abject horror on her features. Shit, she looked like she was about to fall over, and no wonder. She was barely out of the sickbed and forced to run for her life again.
How had they found them?
He went over and took her hand. Led her down to the small bathroom. He turned the temperature of the shower to warm and held her trembling form in his arms. When the temperature felt okay he started to slip the shirt off her shoulders. She went stiff with resistance for a second, then her shoulders relaxed and she rested her forehead against his chest. A lump the size of Arkansas wedged itself in his throat as he eased off the shirt and tossed it on the floor.
“I’ll find you something clean to wear.”
She shuddered and he pushed her under the spray wishing he could join her, knowing he didn’t deserve an invitation. Not that it would have stopped him under normal circumstances, but this wasn’t normal. She had just watched him kill four men and he had a horrible feeling he was responsible for a lot of the things that had happened over the last week.
She turned her back to him, but the view was good from any direction. He felt himself getting aroused and curled his fingers into his palm.
For some reason Audrey thought she came up short in the body stakes. She was mistaken, but then everyone was fucked up one way or another. The fact Audrey was hung up about her body just showed she was correct about her fat bastard inequality theory.
He shook himself out of his daze and went and rifled through lockers, looking for the smallest, cleanest clothes he could find. He bundled them up and put them and a clean towel just inside the door of the bathroom. Audrey was still turned away from him, washing her hair. He dragged his eyes away from those tantalizing turquoise bikini bottoms and headed back to the deck where he started the engine and motored slowly away from the island. He retrieved his cell phone, grateful he’d put it in a Ziploc before heading to the beach. Despite his unkempt appearance, taking care of the essentials was one of the tenets he lived by.
He pulled the captain’s cell out of his pocket and called Jed’s number.
“Agent Brennan.”
“It’s me.”
Jed understood the significance of him calling from another cell. “Ah, shit. What happened?”
“Find out who owns this phone and a fishing trawler called La Santa Anna.”
“You guys safe?”
“Let me call you back on my cell.” Killion scanned the horizon as he headed north. Jed answered again before the phone completed its first ring.
“There are six armed men trying to break into the place where we were staying.” If not for his need to get out of the confines of the house and some lucky timing, they’d have been trapped. “How the hell did they find us?”
“I’m going to patch Parker into this call.”
Killion didn’t know if he trusted Parker or not—they’d never actually met and he knew that at one time the guy had worked for CIA on projects so sensitive they’d never be subject to the freedom of information act. His buddy Lincoln Frazer trusted him though, and Frazer was a hard sell. It would have to be enough.
Parker didn’t waste time on small talk. “Do the attackers have any other way to pursue you?”
“Pretty sure I just confiscated their only means of transportation. But they probably have cell phones so they could call for help.”
“Give me a sec.” Parker came back a few moments later. “I turned off the signal tower just in case one of them has a sat phone. They won’t be talking to anyone. There’s a camera system that shows them camped outside the front door, trying to figure a way in. The door is bulletproof and it looks like one of them already shot himself in the leg.”
“Bet they weren’t expecting that.” Killion’s smile felt as thin as a blade. “Does your friend Haley have some sort of end of days mentality? Is that why she has so much security?”
“Nah. She bought the house off some Russian gangster when I was in a Moroccan prison. I stayed there for a few weeks after I got out and suggested a few upgrades. It’s possible I was a little paranoid at the time. We use the place for sensitive jobs where people want to drop off the grid—usually to avoid the press. But Haley fell in love with the place and decided she should have it.” Parker laughed softly. “You don’t argue with Haley once she’s made up her mind about something.”
“Sounds like my sort of woman.”
“They’re all your sort of woman,” Jed interjected.
Not really, Killion realized.
“Those goons are going to take a few hours to even figure out you’ve escaped,” Parker said. “The place is built like a fortress. Why didn’t you stay put?”
“For the first time since we arrived I thought I’d take the professor for a swim to try and build up her strength. We were already at the beach by the time we realized we had company.”
“How is she?” this from Jed.
“Scared. Traumatized. Look, I want to know how the hell they found us when as far as I know you guys were the only ones privy to that information.”
“Only you and I knew from this end, right, Alex?” Jed was talking to Parker.
“No one else needed to know. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out,” said Parker. “I don’t like finding holes in my security protocols. Could the Brits have given you away?”
“Possible, but not likely,” Killion had to admit. “Could someone be tracking this cell?”
“CIA and NASA can track it.”
“Can you track it?”
Parker kept quiet for a long moment, and then admitted, “I could if I had to.”
“Can you make it so they can’t?”
Another few moments of silence. Killion didn’t think Parker was thinking about the technicalities, more the legalities of doing this for a federal employee.
“It’s possible your phone could malfunction and start popping up in other parts of the globe, all at the same time.” Thus confusing the trail. “Langley won’t appreciate losing track of one of their top officers though.”
“Better to disappear temporarily than permanently. See if you can figure out any other way we might have been compromised so I’m not making the same mistake twice. And I’m going to need travel documents to get back to the States. Where do I head from here?”
“Your trawler is out of Honduras. Captain Tippitat was probably one of Gómez’s many smuggling conduits.” Parker relayed the information in a thoughtful voice. “Head north to Jamaica. Sink the trawler offshore, find a small hotel somewhere and call Jed again. Someone will deliver the documents you need.”
“Someone trustworthy?”
“You bet your life on it.”
“I am.” There was a beat of silence. “What about the idiots camped out on the island. Do we let them starve to death?”
“They can sit tight for now. I’ll see if I can hire your buddies from across the water to go pick them up,” said Parker. “Let Gómez remain ignorant about what’s happening out there for as long as possible while we figure out who tracked you down and how.”
“We’ll get you out of this,” Jed promised.
“I appreciate it. And I hope your friend’s home is still standing by the end of it.” Killion wasn’t happy about the damage those guys might inflict when they figured out they’d been stranded.
“We can fix property,” Parker said, his voice serious. “We can’t bring people back from the dead. If Audrey Lockhart is innocent—”
“She is.”
“Then we need to figure out who the real bad guy is and finish this thing.”
Killion couldn’t agree more.
They hung up.
He’d find out exactly how far he could trust them when he hit Jamaica. A figure moved silently up to th
e wheelhouse door and Killion rested his hand on the grip of his P229.
Chapter Twelve
HE PACED HIS corner office. Why the hell hadn’t he heard anything yet? It would have been faster if he’d swum to the island and took care of business himself.
Finally the burner in his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out, making himself take a calming breath before he answered it. “Is it done?”
“We’ve lost contact with the people we sent,” admitted Gómez.
“Lost contact?” What the hell did that mean?
“The radio is probably broken and there’s no cell phone coverage out in the middle of the ocean.” Gómez laughed but it sounded forced.
He held onto his patience. “So what is the plan?”
“My people will continue trying to raise our hermanos on the radio. There’s another boat we can send but it’s eight hours away. It is a big ocean. Si?”
Eight hours? He didn’t think he could wait that long. He had the horrible feeling Audrey had once again slipped through his fingers, or maybe everyone was screwing with him, trying to milk him for more money.
“You know I’m a rich man, amigo?”
“Si. We are both rich men.”
“About to get a lot richer, huh?”
“Si.”
“Unless this woman gets away,” he hissed.
The silence on the other end of the line told him Raoul had definitely underestimated what this meant to him.
“If this woman escapes, our association will be forfeit.” He spelled it out so there would be no misunderstanding.
“She’ll be taken care of. She’s probably already dead.” The Colombian tried to sound nonchalant, but he heard the edge of uncertainty.
“The stakes are too high to make assumptions.” He calmed himself before he continued. “Hear me, friend, and hear me well. No product moves anywhere until this thing is finished. Understand me?”
“I understand, amigo. Don’t worry. I understand.” Gómez finally had a note of urgency in his voice.
“Send a helicopter to see whether or not your men failed you.” He allowed a beat of silence to follow his order. “And if they did, they die. Every single one of them.”
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