“That is the deal,” Carmen agreed.
“I can reach you at this number?” Taylor asked.
“Yes, but I won’t turn it on for twenty-four hours, your deadline. And don’t bother trying to track this call. You will find that the number is untraceable.”
“Harlow, stay strong,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”
As soon as she disconnected, Dante pulled her into his arms. “You did good, babe.”
Her entire body shook and she focused on breathing in Dante’s comforting scent.
“Good job, Taylor,” Logan repeated through the speaker phone. “You handled that perfectly.”
“A few minutes ago, we received an AID alert from Sawyer,” Luke told them. “We’re not sure what happened, only that Grant and Wyatt are headed that way now, based on the location of their trackers. We haven’t been able to make phone contact with any of them.”
“I’m patching Tyler in now,” Logan said.
“Hey, all. This is what we know. Grant and Wyatt were able to hike through the jungle and locate Harlow’s missing friend Carmen—”
“Wait.” Taylor pulled from her husband’s comforting grip and dropped her hands on his desk over the phone. “Carmen is the woman who has Harlow right now.”
“Well, shitakes,” Tyler muttered.
If this hadn’t been a life-or-death situation, she would’ve smiled at Tyler’s use of Kai’s favorite exclamation.
“After they reached her, they were able to meet up with Sawyer and Harlow. For some reason, they split up, with Grant and Wyatt heading off in a different direction.”
“Probably looking for transportation,” Dante guessed.
“Most likely. Sawyer is approximately a mile and a half away from Grant and Wyatt. He’s stationary.”
Her gaze snapped up to Dante. If Harlow had been abducted and Sawyer’s tracker wasn’t moving, that could only mean one thing. Her husband pulled her into his arms and she went gladly.
“Sawyer placed a tracker on Harlow, too and she’s about two to three miles in a different direction. She’s also stationary. I’m following all their locations on the map. Grant and Wyatt should meet up with Sawyer in a few minutes.
“Also, I tracked the phone call and it originated in the same location where the map indicates Harlow’s tracker is right now.”
“I thought Carmen said the call couldn’t be traced,” Taylor said.
“It couldn’t be…by any average tech geek,” Tyler boasted.
She was sure he made the remark to lighten the somber mood, but no one felt like laughing. Something bad had happened to one of their own.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Something wet brushed against his face, but Sawyer waited until the footsteps disappeared and the voices drifted away before he opened his eyes. He wanted the men to think he was dead so that they didn’t come back and finish the job for real. Next time, they might go for a head shot. He was no good to Harlow if he wasn’t breathing.
He just started to move when he heard crunching leaves. He remained motionless but cracked a lid to see Harlow’s friend Carmen rushing after the group. He opened his mouth to tell her not to follow, that she might be in danger, but she was gone before he could warn her. He couldn’t yell for fear of alerting the other men. Hell, he couldn’t yell, period. There was currently no air in his lungs.
Damn. He wished she hadn’t gone after the group. If she managed to get herself recaptured, they would now have to rescue two instead of one.
In the distance, a motor started up and then the sound faded. If they had taken Harlow away by vehicle, it would make getting to her harder.
Another wet swipe and he opened his one good eye to find Duke standing on his chest, his tongue prepared for another lick. He lifted a hand to reassure the little guy. Thank goodness the dog hadn’t been strapped into the sling when the man shot him. He’d had to hold his breath so that his chest didn’t so much as twitch when the man checked to see if the bullets had done their job and then again when he kicked at him. The shooter was gone but now he was having a hard time catching his breath again. A hand strayed to his chest and rubbed at the ache. The Kevlar had done its job and caught both slugs, but getting shot at point-blank range hurt like hell. He was pretty sure one of the shots had cracked a rib. Not to mention his head still throbbed from the giant’s crushing blow.
As he tried to pull air into his lungs, he fished out his phone and called Grant.
“Andrés…has Harlow. Took a couple…bullets to vest.”
When there was no response, he held the phone up to realize the call hadn’t gone through. The only reason could be that there was a signal jammer close. That meant Dominar had a safe house nearby. That would likely be where they took Harlow.
The hand holding the phone crashed to the ground. He stared at the sky through the eye not swollen shut. He needed to get up and follow but his chest was on fire. He’d been shot before without the protection of a vest when an escaped convict held Taylor Hudson, now Costa, hostage. He’d almost died then. That pain was nothing to what he felt now, and not from the bullets, but from having failed Harlow. They’d managed to survive collapsed buildings and drunken terrorists and suicide bombers, but in the end, he hadn’t been able to protect her and now she was gone.
Duke danced in place on his chest and kept looking over his shoulder, as if urging Sawyer to go after Harlow. Good thing the dog weighed less than ten pounds or the movement would be painful. The only thing that eased his worry a fraction was that he’d put a tracker on her. When his breath returned and his vision cleared, he’d be able to find her…if the signal jammer didn’t interfere.
Andrés wanted her for a reason. If he wanted to kill her, he’d have just shot her along with Sawyer. It had to have something to do with her grandmother. That meant they would need Harlow alive. He had to get to her before anything could happen to her.
Duke dropped to his haunches and growled, a low, rumbling sound as dark shadows fell over him, blocking out the sun’s rays. If it was a jungle cat, it was the beast’s lucky day. Sawyer couldn’t move yet.
“Hey, you okay?”
Grant’s concerned face came into view, followed by Wyatt.
Sawyer felt like shouting in relief. His coworkers had come for him.
“Yeah. Help me up.”
“Stay down, catch your breath,” Grant insisted.
“Have to go after Harlow.”
“We will and we’ll find her, but you’re no good to us if you pass out.”
Good point.
“What happened?” Wyatt asked.
“Guy came out of nowhere. He didn’t make a sound. One minute he wasn’t there and the next, he just appeared. He even had two big guys with him and they didn’t so much as whisper the leaves.”
Grant glanced around the area. “He probably knows this area well. They might’ve even been lying in wait. But how did they find you?”
“No idea. Dumb luck?”
Wyatt shook his head. “They had to have been hiding and watching you. The undergrowth is thick here. You’d have heard them otherwise.”
Speaking of thick undergrowth…he was tired of lying in it. “Help me up.”
Grant took one arm and Wyatt the other. He couldn’t help the hiss as they lifted him to his feet. Grant tugged his shirt up to reveal the slugs in his vest.
“Damn, these things are worth whatever price the company charges.”
“You’re going to have the mother of all bruises,” Wyatt said.
“Better than the alternative,” Grant replied.
True, that.
“Who made your mug uglier?” Wyatt peered at his battered face.
Sawyer gently probed the skin around his eye with his fingertips. It hurt like hell, but he didn’t think either the Zygomatic bone or Maxilla was broken. “Laurel.”
“Who?”
“Big giant of a guy. His partner was short and fat.”
“Ah,” Grant said in understandi
ng. “He’d be Hardy.”
“Right.”
Sawyer’s vision had cleared, and his lungs were working properly…or as well as possible. The cracked rib he ignored. “I think they left by vehicle. I heard a motor start up, too big to be a motorcycle. I put a tracker on Harlow.”
“Good on ya, mate. We’ll check her location now.”
“The program might not work,” he warned. “I couldn’t get a cell signal to call you.”
Grant smiled and indicated his phone. “No worries. It’s highly classified and you aren’t seeing this, but this will bust any jamming signal.”
“Sweet.”
Grant nodded. “Peter is already working on a version for the office.” He pulled up the tracker. “She’s moving east of here. Wait…it stopped. Let me pull up a satellite map. He squinted and looked closer at the screen. “It’s hard to tell, but I think this,” he indicated a spot on the map, “might be a dwelling of some sort.”
“Let’s go.”
Grant hooked up the harness around his neck and lifted Duke inside. Sawyer wanted to insist he could carry the pup, but he was already going to be a liability in the speed department. He didn’t need anything else slowing them down. Duke accepted Grant carrying him, but he gazed at Sawyer with puppy dog eyes. He gave him a reassuring pat before they took off for the location at a rapid clip.
Wyatt had shifted his backpack to one arm and then hefted Sawyer’s on the other. Grant did the same with his and Harlow’s packs. Both Grant and Wyatt were former military and were used to training like this…long hikes carrying heavy loads. He’d never been in the military. It sounded childish, but his parents wouldn’t allow him to enlist. They fully supported the men and women who served the country and donated generous amounts to veterans’ organizations, but that didn’t mean they wanted their only son to suit up and serve. So instead of going the military route, he’d headed to Quantico after graduation. To his dad, that hadn’t been much better.
Grant, in the lead, set a rapid pace. Wyatt kept up easily and it took every bit of strength, grit, resolve and sheer determination to not lag behind. Each breath was a painful stab in his chest, which he ignored. They’d found a muddy path covered in tire tracks that passed for a road and followed it. When Grant held up a hand in the universal sign for stop he pretended his breath wasn’t sawing in and out as he came up beside the two men. He followed their gazes to see a body sprawled on the ground, the head a mangled, bloody pulp. It was fresh, judging by the lack of insect life that had yet to descend, and descend they would in the jungle. The feet were too big to be female, but not big enough to be Laurel, the giant. Not fat enough to be Hardy, the man who shot him. The shirt was familiar and he gawked at the dead body in shock. “That’s Andrés.”
Grant and Wyatt both jerked their gaze from the corpse to him. “The man who took Harlow?” Grant asked.
“Yeah.” What the hell? He was dead? Who killed him and why? And what did that mean for Harlow. Better or worse? The devil you know. Now who had her? Too many unanswered questions.
“I thought he was the man in charge,” Wyatt said.
“So did I.” But a frightening scenario was building and Sawyer didn’t like where it was headed. His mind flashed back to something Carmen said earlier. She’d thanked him for bringing Harlow to her. Then she found them the perfect resting spot…the place where men had been lying in wait. He flashed on the woman hurrying after the group with not so much as a limp.
Was her friend in on it all along? If so, having them “rescue” her from the jungle was a set up. That’s how Andrés and his men found them.
“I think Carmen is in on it.”
Grant’s head snapped to him. “What?” He shook his head. “She was badly injured, could barely walk.”
Sawyer shook his head, his conviction building. “She played us. When the men took Harlow away, she chased after them. No sign of a damaged ankle. And she thanked me for bringing Harlow to her.”
“Odd choice of words,” Wyatt mused.
“My thinking, too.”
“Sonofabitch,” Grant muttered. “I fell for it.”
“We all did. She lured us here by playing the victim,” Wyatt deduced. “They couldn’t find Harlow and by acting injured, she knew Harlow would come for her. She just reeled us right in.”
“You’re right. No way Harlow would’ve left her friend if she thought she was injured.” Sawyer was sure of that. The woman had a heart of gold.
“Let’s show her that she messed with the wrong people.”
“Hell, yeah.” Wyatt pounded a fist into his other hand.
Stepping over Andrés, they continued to the destination, their eyes canvassing the area for any unknown threats. The forest wasn’t as dense so it was easier to traverse, but it made it harder to hide if any vehicles approached. So far, the road remained deserted, but the tracks were fresh so a car had gone by recently, most likely the one carrying Harlow.
Grant held up his hand again and they stopped. Stretching in front of them was a tall black fence that looked to be electrified, with an iron gate blocking their entry. He slid on a pair of glasses that would locate any infrared rays. “Clear,” he called out, shoving the glasses up his head.
Wyatt slid his backpack off and dug inside before coming out with a small black box. He opened it to reveal what looked like a flying beetle nestled on a brown velvet bed. It was in fact a tiny drone, no bigger than his thumbnail. It was disguised to look like one of the bugs that swarmed the jungle. Lifting the drone out, he handed it to Grant and then pulled up the controls on his phone. He piloted the small robot as easily and efficiently as he did a mighty airplane. Soundlessly, the “bug” lifted from Grant’s hand and fluttered away. He directed it around the outside perimeter first so they could get a look at what they were dealing with.
“Two men on the porch, smoking.”
“That’s Laurel and Hardy,” Sawyer confirmed.
“No one near the gate. Not much in the way of security. The body heat sensors confirm only two bodies outside and two in.”
“Send it inside.”
He maneuvered the device inside the open doors. Harlow was sitting at a table, blessedly alive. On the table in front of her was an open cell phone. Carmen sat across from her with an evil smile. Miraculously, all the cuts and bruises on her face were gone. Makeup. Conversely, a dark bruise was forming on Harlow’s delicate cheek and someone would pay for that.
#
Harlow wondered what Taylor would do after the phone call. Would she call her grandmother for real? She didn’t think so. She would probably tell Grant and Wyatt so they could come and rescue her. At least she hoped that’s what would happen.
She didn’t know the two men well, but she trusted them. If they worked for COBRA Securities, they were among the best trained men in the world. And women. There were female agents, too.
How could her trip have gone so horribly wrong? All she wanted to do was give back. She’d been fortunate growing up, and she wanted to give a little hope and joy to children who hadn’t been as lucky. Instead, she’d been captured by a deadly drug cartel and Sawyer was dead.
She choked back a sob. Never getting to see his beautiful blue eyes again, shining with laughter, caused a pain so sharp in her chest, she thought she might be having a heart attack.
It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. Sawyer was dead, and it was all her fault.
The two men went outside to smoke and she was glad they were gone. She didn’t trust that Carmen would keep her safe from their evil leers.
“Pity your boyfriend had to die,” Carmen smirked as she played with her knife. It was all she could do to stop from lunging across the table and clawing her eyes out. Maybe she could grab the knife and plunge it into Carmen before she knew what was happening. But that would bring her minions running and she had no doubt they would shoot to kill, as Carmen had taunted earlier. “And such a shame I couldn’t play with the tall, dark-headed one for a bit. Ooh, he’
s fine. I bet he’s a stallion in bed. Yours, too, huh? Big hands, big feet. I bet he’s big all over.”
Harlow refused to play her game. She wanted a reaction but Harlow wouldn’t cooperate. Carmen was baiting her and to what end? She got what she wanted. But there was something she had to know. “Why?”
“Why do I think that? Because you know what they say about the size of a man’s hands being an indicator of his—”
“No, why are you doing this to me? I thought we were friends.”
“We are.”
She wanted to ask if Carmen was smoking some of the drugs they were peddling, but then the woman spoke again.
“We’re the kind of friends who take off without telling the other where they’re going, not knowing the fate they are leaving the other one to face alone.”
“My intent was never malicious.”
“Mine was.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bug fly by. She hoped it was carrying malaria and it bit Carmen on the neck. One thing she noticed was that there were few people here. She’d have thought a major drug cartel would be teeming with men armed with assault rifles and machetes.
“Business must not be going well,” she taunted. “There are only what, three of you here?”
It was also a way to find out how many people Grant and Wyatt would have to deal with when they arrived. Not if, when. She was sure they would do everything they could to save her, if not for their jobs, then for Sawyer. When darkness threatened to consume her again, she pushed the thoughts aside to deal with later.
Carmen shrugged a shoulder. “Only three of us here now, but others are coming. We had more but unfortunately, those two brutes killed three of my men in the jungle and, as you know, I had to eliminate Andrés.”
“You didn’t even flinch when you pulled the trigger.”
She waved a hand. “Eh, he was disposable. They all were.”
Harlow’s mouth dropped open. “Disposable? They were human beings.”
“So? They gave their lives for the greater good. They believed in Raul’s prophesy and were willing to lay their lives on the line to carry it out. And don’t look at me with that holier-than-thou look. You killed someone, too.”
Hunted (COBRA Securities Book 12) Page 19