by Sheila Kell
“What’s the smile for?” Kate asked.
For some unknown reason, that made him laugh out loud and all heads turned to him. They probably thought he’d lost it, and he didn’t care. Having a surge of joy flow through his veins leveled him. It brought him back from thinking he wasn’t enough.
His laughter was short lived. The van stopped and his muscles tensed. Jesse and Neftali then exited and slipped into the jungle.
The rest of the men exited and were on instant alert. Actually, as far as Devon could tell, they’d been on alert since he’d seen them back in Baltimore.
With a few hand signals from Ken, they disappeared into the jungle at various points, rifles at the ready. Devon assumed his position between AJ and Trent, who’d been assigned to babysit him as far as he could tell, and pushed his way through. With each step, his blood flowed faster and faster until when they stopped, he thought his veins might burst.
The area to the house was open field and where armed guards patrolled. Suddenly four pops sounded, rifles with silencers, and the four guards dropped. The sharpshooters were fucking awesome.
Through his earpiece, which he’d almost forgot he had because the men were so quiet, Jesse commanded them to converge on the house. Again, with his small group, they raced across the field, his blood pounding loudly in his ears. They were the second group entering the house. The first was to locate Carver. He was to find Rylee. Silently they made their way down the hallways they’d mapped out. When they reached where they’d make the final turn and run into a guard, AJ called them to halt.
Leaning back against the wall, Devon gave a silent prayer that he’d be able to do what it took to save his wife and the girls.
AJ nodded at Trent and the two turned in the hallway, weapons pointed, with AJ screaming, “Get down, motherfucker!”
More shouting and then he heard two shots. His heart skipped a beat and he turned the corner to see his brothers over a prone man with blood seeping onto his shirt. It took several deep breaths for him to relax from worrying about his brothers.
“The fucker reached to his back.” AJ kicked a handgun aside, then nodded again at Trent.
During that time, Steve and Danny arrived. The group set up surrounding the door while Danny had their six.
Coming up beside him, AJ spoke quietly, “I know you want to go first, but be smart and stay behind me this one time.”
With his pulse racing and adrenaline surging to his heart, Devon didn’t think he could wait that long, even behind one person, but his mind remained clear and he knew when to follow. His brother had been trained in this. There was no way he’d chance putting Rylee or those girls at risk.
He gave a short nod in agreement.
They turned back to the heavy door. After removing keys from the downed guard’s pocket, Trent passed them forward to Steve who inserted them in the lock, but waited to turn the key.
The men slung their rifles over their shoulders and unholstered Glocks so Devon did the same. He preferred the handgun anyway. If the women weren’t alone, he’d have to use his weapon. His hand shook. Breathe. I can do this.
AJ nodded and Steve unlocked the door. Then, his brother counted to three with a flash of fingers. Devon took a deep breath and held it to calm his nerves, but his heart still pounded rapidly, beating hard against his chest. Surprisingly, his hands were steady. I’m coming, Rylee.
Steve stood with them, weapons ready, covering the door to the room now absent a guard. Trent and Danny had pulled the man out of the way and watched the hallway. Devon wondered for a moment if the girls heard the shots. Using silencers, didn’t mean silent. Rylee would know what it was though.
When AJ extended three fingers, Steve jerked opened the door and AJ eased in, weapon pointed.
Devon entered next and stopped in shock. A dark-haired girl was on AJ’s back and two strawberry-blonde girls, twins, tripped him with a white sheet. When he fell, amidst extreme profanity Megan would kill him for, he spun and caught the girl on his back, initially pointing his weapon at her. When he realized it was a kid, still trying to corral him, he grabbed her wrists with one large hand and yelled, “Stop it!”
While Devon fought laughter, watching that hilarious scene, the other room occupants noticed him. His gut clenched. None of which were his wife.
“There’s another one, girls. Get him,” a red-haired girl charged.
To forestall them, he raised his hands palms toward them in surrender with his Glock slipping to his thumb, away from them. “We’re here to rescue you. Where’s my wife? Where’s Rylee?”
While he spoke, the girls had gravitated closer to each other and further from him. They whispered and one of the twins stepped in front of the group. “Are you really Devon?” she asked softly.
He nodded and smiled. “Yes.”
“Rylee said you died.”
Rocks tumbled in his gut. How he wished he’d been able to give her some sign he’d been alive. There was no telling the grief she’d been enduring.
“I survived and I’m here to get her. And all of you,” he added before looking at AJ, still sprawled on the floor, straddled by the girl. Devon looked over his shoulder to see Steve and Danny wearing shit-eating grins. Thank God, Trent covered their asses because their attention had been derailed.
Glancing back at his brother, he shook his head. Poor AJ. He just couldn’t catch a break with these guys. They were always on his ass about something. This would be the big story on the flight home. A chuckle slipped out against his will. It was fucking funny. “AJ, get the hell up.” He turned back to the girls. “Where is Rylee?”
“They took her hours ago, and she never came back,” the girl climbing off his brother said.
Had they sold her already? Were they raping her? Torturing her? Pain stabbed at him as if his heart had been ripped from his chest in a brutal assault. He couldn’t be too late. Couldn’t.
DEVON’S HEART NEARLY stopped. “Where?” he barked out as he holstered his weapon. The poor girls, who’d appeared defiant in their attempt to escape, now looked scared shitless. He hadn’t meant to make them jump, but dammit, he wanted his wife. Right the fuck now.
“Th-they—” one of the twins stammered with a quivering lip. A gulp slipped down her throat.
“They took her to see the boss,” a red-haired girl said matter-of-factly.
“Fuck!” he roared and spun in a circle tossing his arms up. “Fucking Carver.” God, he wanted to punch something, and he’d never been violent. It was why he’d joined the agency instead of a gun toting job like his brothers. Something behind a computer and without a weapon. This situation sorely tested that restraint.
Taking a deep breath to bring down the hostility within, he focused. Finding Rylee was all that mattered; it was the key to soothing his soul. Jesse’s team was on the main area of the house where they’d expected to find Carver. Devon hadn’t heard his team check in. Then again, they hadn’t checked in either.
His heart pounded soundly against his breastbone, as if seeking an escape to the turmoil. Enough was enough. No more following the fucking leader. This was his wife. That made this his mission. Bucking up and snapping his body straight, he turned to AJ with steel in his resolve. “You and Trent are with me.” His thumb pointed toward his chest to ensure there was no confusion. Then, he spun and hustled out of the room at what he could’ve sworn, had he taken longer to observe, was a grin from his baby brother.
Outside the room, he halted and hailed Jesse over the comms. “We’ve got the girls. Rylee’s with Carver. Do you have her?” he said in clipped tones, ready to race to his wife’s side. Yet, something held him back. Something that told him not to leave the area. Maybe it was mission planning. Maybe it was something else. He couldn’t describe it, but he obeyed that overwhelming urge and waited for a response.
In his mind, it took hours for that answer, even though it was spoken in his ear almost instantaneously. “We’ve got Carver and she’s not here,” Jesse said.
“Can’t do it. Matt introduced his fist to the man’s face, and he’s taking a nap.”
His stomach plummeted to his feet. Wanting to rant at Matt for making this harder on them, he held back because he didn’t have time. Squeezing his eyes shut, a shot of despair lanced his heart. He’d never forgive himself if they’d sold her that afternoon while the men had waited. His head snapped up. No way would he allow those emotions to run through him. “Okay,” he said to his two brothers in the hallway. “We still need to check each room on this wing.”
At the other end of the hall, Neftali and Jamaal, from Jesse’s team, appeared. They nodded and went to the first door, and Matt and Kate came around the corner next and went to the second. They had six rooms to check and Jesse had just made it faster. Thank you, big brother.
Like the others, they could’ve done the job in twos, but no one questioned his wanting his brothers to have his back. Besides, they’d both worked with Rylee and didn’t like the situation any more than he did.
“On me.” He led them to a door. While not the nearest, something drew him there. Did he imagine the noise? Listening intently, it didn’t reappear. It didn’t matter. Devon had chosen and he’d stick to this door.
Nodding, they removed handguns, and he took a deep breath. Once they were set, AJ opened the door and Devon led them in, weapon sweeping the room from left to right for any threat. An empty bedroom. That feeling of despair tried to peek its ugly head into him again, but he set his jaw and squashed it.
Hearing a noise in an adjoining room, they silently continued until they entered the brightly lit room, Devon stopped dead in his tracks at a sight that almost drove him to his knees.
To his horror, none other than Jackie stood behind a kneeling Rylee, bloody and naked, and his blood ran cold. With her hands twisted in Rylee’s hair, Jackie tugged and his wife’s head leaned back exposing her neck to the shiny knife Jackie held there.
This time he allowed his rage to soak in, but held a firm control of it. He couldn’t allow this to happen again. Counting on the men had their aim on Jackie, he allowed his gaze to meet his wife’s.
“Devon.” Rylee’s disbelief swam in her voice and features, and a tear slipped down her cheek. She tried to move toward him, but was held in place. “You’re alive.”
Something inside him almost broke at her emotions. If that bastard let anyone touch her, he’d kill him. “I am,” he said calmly. “And, I’m here to take you home.” He’d love nothing more than to banter with her, and soothe her physical and emotional ailments, but a little bitch needed to be taken care of first.
“Hello, Devon,” Jackie said.
Turning his attention upward, he narrowed his eyes at his wife’s threat. “Jackie,” he bit out. Only the top of his wife’s head if his aim wasn’t true. Why couldn’t the woman be taller? He sensed his brothers behind him. And while he wanted to make them leave and not look at his wife’s unclothed body, he needed them there. If nothing more than moral support. He would get Rylee out of this.
The woman tightened her grip on Rylee’s hair, and her eyes darted between the men.
“Let her go.” His hand felt clammy on the weapon and a slight tremble appeared. He willed it away, but it remained. At least it didn’t get worse as his nervousness amped up.
“Are you willing to risk my hand not slipping if you were to shoot me. How about instead”—she licked her lips and his stomach revolted—“I get a ticket outta here. I can give you names and whatever you need to put Carver behind bars.”
“Shoot her, Devon. Don’t trust her.” Rylee’s words may have been strong, but there’d been fear laced in them that maybe only he could hear. Did she fear his failure? He couldn’t have that.
Jackie jerked Rylee’s head back and his wife’s eyes gleamed with fury. “Shut up.”
The tremble on his Glock disappeared and his aim, he knew, held true.
“I can take her,” Trent said.
“Me, too,” AJ added.
Relief flooded him just as it bolstered him. Rage like he’d never known flowed through his veins. “Why should I trust you? Last time you offered information, you murdered a CIA operative.” Devon’s finger lightly touched the trigger. Just one movement from Jackie was all he needed.
“Carver ordered me to do it.” The little bitch’s flippancy grated on his strained nerves.
“Release Rylee and we’ll bring you in. In fact, you can talk with the FBI deputy director.” Let Arthur deal with the fucking shit.
“Liar.” A small bead of blood formed on Rylee’s neck when Jackie’s knife pushed against her throat.
That slight movement of her hand was all it took. Devon pulled the trigger. Jackie gasped and her eyes bulged before she crumpled to the floor. He then slid across the floor on his knees to his wife. “Rylee.”
Lifting her into his arms, he barked out orders to the men. While awake, all her fire was gone and a grogginess had overtaken her. He laid her down on the bed in the adjoining room and either AJ or Trent, hell he didn’t care who, handed him a towel to cover her. It didn’t take long for the light-colored towel to have streaks of blood from her two wounds.
Touching her face ever so lightly, he whispered her name. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him. He stood, ready to call for Matt.
“I’m here,” Matt bounded into the door. While not a medic, Matt’s SEAL training set him up as the closest thing they had to one. They really needed to hire a real medic though. It wasn’t fair to his brother since his training only went so far.
Glancing at the door, he saw a majority of the team congregating.
Matt worked as gently as possible with her naked body covered.
Devon watched like a hawk to make sure of it. He should’ve shooed the men out, but knew they were only concerned about her condition. Running his fingers through his hair in frustration and worry, he watched Matt wipe away blood and probe. “How is she?”
“Patience, I just got here.” Matt checked her eyes and asked her how she felt. She told him she was nauseous. Then, she rolled on her side and threw up all over a silky looking bedcover.
Standing, Matt smiled. “I think she’ll be fine. The gash on her stomach could use a couple of stitches, but she can wait for those. I’ll bind it good enough for now. Give me about five more minutes and we’ll be ready to go. Are you planning to carry her the entire way?”
“Yeah,” he said incredulously. As if he’d let another man handle her.
“Walk,” Rylee said weakly.
Rushing to kneel beside the bed, he held her hand between both of his. “Rylee, we may have to hurry out of here.”
“Please. I need to walk out of this hellhole,” she pleaded.
Devon looked at Matt, who nodded, and then back at his wife. “Okay. You can walk, but if you get tired or start bleeding, I’m carrying you.”
Her free hand cupped his cheek, and he leaned into the softness. Immediately, all felt right in his world.
“I love you, Devon.”
His world achieved perfection. Hearing the words was as sweet as he thought it would be. “I love you, too.”
“Great, everybody fucking loves everybody,” Trent said from the doorway. “Can we get this show on the road before the locals move the fuck in?”
With that, Matt took care of Rylee, then Kate helped her dress. And on her two feet, they walked out of Carver’s and into waiting vans. Although he guessed Rylee could make it, when she stumbled at the front door, he hoisted her into his arms and carried her to their transport.
Sitting with Rylee across his lap, Devon only half listened to the chatter over the comm system. His focus was on her. She was becoming more lucid.
“The girls?” she asked with her hands wrapped in his T-shirt.
“They’ve got them. Arthur acquired a se
cond plane so we can take them home.”
“I want to be with them.”
“Hang the fuck on!” Mike, their driver, shouted.
Devon tensed, as did his wife. She slipped off his lap to the seat next to him that’d been left vacant. Fumbling a bit, she connected her seat belt.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
“I don’t know yet.” Focusing on the comm, he heard what they’d been trying to avoid. “Fuck,” he said. “Belize authorities are chasing us.”
The van swerved into the opposite lane to pass a car and swerved back to avoid an oncoming vehicle.
“I take it we’re not stopping.”
Reaching down, he clasped her hand in his, felt the tremble in hers, and held it tight. Rylee drugged, even if she was coming down from the effects, wasn’t the tough and strong woman he’d fallen in love with. Oh, he still loved this one, but his woman would be ready to kick some butt, not sit here with a tremble, even as slight as it was.
Another swerve and he reached to the ceiling to hold himself in place. They had three vans that needed to outrun the locals. Arthur was supposed to have cleared the way as best he could, but they knew the government didn’t approve. Hell, they might not even be real police. HIS wouldn’t be finding out.
“Drivers to your alternate routes,” Jesse stated firmly in Devon’s earpiece.
Gunfire erupted and the van careened to the right, and he slid into his wife on the left. Straightening, but keeping his head down, he asked, “Are you okay?”
Maybe the jostling was clearing her mind, because the eyes that looked back at him appeared clean and focused. “Fine. Is there a plan?”
Here they were running for what could truly be their lives, and like an idiot, he laughed, a dig deep and come up happy laugh. Thankfully no one either took notice or said a thing about it. Maybe they thought he’d lost it. Maybe he had. All he knew was he had Rylee by his side, and that was all that mattered. “With Jesse, there’s always a plan and a backup plan.”