She’s on comms.
“You have to tell the general what he wants to know,” Dani says, then winces and cups her cheek. “Dammit. That wasn’t…” Her eyes flutter, and she collapses against me.
“Dani, breathe.”
The door opens, and Ochoa’s harsh voice makes us both jump. “Your time is up, Señor Moana.” The general snaps his fingers, and two of his men appear behind Dani. “Take her back to her cell.”
“Wait!” Dani’s fingers curl around mine, and I tense when I feel her press something hard against my palm. Her gaze is almost…triumphant. “Tell him everything, Trev. Please. Then, we can get out of here.”
She keeps repeating those words until the door slams shut, and the other two men who entered with the general pick me up and deposit me into a chair.
I still have whatever she gave me hidden, and as I look the general up and down, I realize what it is. One of his complement of medals. It’s not much of a weapon, but it’s the only thing I have, and it’s better than nothing.
Ochoa drops a small notebook and pen in my lap. “What will it be, Señor Moana? Freedom? A long life with the beautiful Daniella outside of Venezuela? Or a very short one where you will both be in constant agony?”
Seven minutes. Less now. If I can stall long enough, we’ll have a chance. “You’re the worst kind of asshole, Ochoa. One who thinks he’s better than everyone else. I’m only doing this for Dani. Because you hurt her, and I won’t ever let that happen again.”
With my wrists still cuffed and the medal hidden in my left hand, it’s awkward as hell to write, but I start making up names and randomly picking cities and neighborhoods these fictional assets live in. I stop after the fifth name, pretending to be too tired to continue. “I could…finish this…a lot easier…if you gave me some food…shithead.”
One of the soldiers knocks me off the chair, but before he can haul me back up again, the lights flicker and then go off completely.
Dani
Locked in a cell on the basement’s top level, I grab the rough blanket off the bed and press it to the cut on my collarbone. The pain makes me hiss, but it’s nothing compared to the throbbing in my cheek.
It has to be shift change by now. Ry, Austin, and Graham should be inside.
“Lois. What’s your location?” Ry asks.
I turn away from the cameras. “Sublevel One. Third cell on the right. Superman’s on Sublevel Three. Door facing the elevator. Or was.”
“Hold tight.”
Only seconds later, something shakes the floor under my feet. Holy shit. All of a sudden, carrying that tin of thinking putty filled with C4 in my bag, only inches from my heart, seems like a very stupid idea. The lights flicker, and then I’m plunged into darkness.
The elevator doors inch open, a faint glow spilling from the interior. I squint as three men fan out in formation. Graham—he’s all wiry muscles, as opposed to Austin’s bulk and Ry’s…mountain-like silhouette—heads straight for me. Less than a minute later, he has the cell door open. “Want to get out of here, Lois?”
“Hell, yes.”
He holds out his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me forward until the men surround me.
“Put these on.” Graham helps me with a pair of night-vision goggles, and I cry out as the rubber eye cup hits the fresh burn on my cheek. “Shit. Sorry.”
“One to ten, Lois. How bad is the pain? Honesty this time,” Ry says.
“Six.”
He makes a low, frustrated sound. “Jimmy, get her out of here.”
“No. Trevor’s in bad shape. I’m not leaving him.” I hold out my hand, staring at Graham through the goggles that make the world glow green. “Hand it over, Jimmy.”
He looks to Ry, then pulls a Beretta from his vest. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I haven’t fired a gun in ten years, but some things you never forget. Like the hours my dad—my real dad, the one who adopted me and never once looked back—spent teaching me how to shoot. “I won’t.”
Ryker sweeps his gaze over the other cells. In Spanish, he calls out, “We’re putting an end to the Crypt tonight. In two hours, the Democrática Resistencia will liberate you all.”
A chorus of cheers follows, and Ry nods. “Let’s go get our boy back.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Trevor
“Find out what is going on,” Ochoa spits out. A beam of light pierces the darkness, and one of the guards snatches the pen away from me before the three of them leave the room. The door locks, leaving nothing but pitch black around me. A moment later, a loud alarm starts blaring at regular intervals.
I trained for this. Too many years ago, but some things you never forget. My fingers are still stiff after so long in the freezing cold, but I pry the pin open and start to work on my handcuffs. Twice, I drop the medal, and to retrieve it, I have to feel around blindly until the sharp point digs into my palm.
But after the longest minutes of my life, the cuffs clatter to the ground. Now to get out of this room and find Dani.
My legs cramp constantly as I inch towards the door, but I force my body to ignore the pain. I’d crawl through fire for Dani, and now that I know we’re not alone, I can endure anything if it means we have a chance to be together again.
On my knees, I fumble for the lock and get to work. With my hands free, I’m faster, and the door opens almost silently. The two times I’ve been to this level, I’ve never seen anyone else, but that doesn’t mean it’s empty.
Staccato bursts of low, almost muffled sounds echo from above me. Gunfire. I have to find Dani and get the fuck out of here before there’s more blood on my conscience. My family’s blood. I don’t know who’s here with her, but it doesn’t matter if it’s West, Graham, Ford, or Ryker. Or anyone else from Hidden Agenda or Second Sight. They’re all family.
Using the wall for support, I close my eyes and clench my jaw, then push myself up. My quads and hamstrings feel like they’re tearing into a thousand pieces, and my eyes water, but I’m standing for the first time since they locked me in that frigid cell.
“You can do this. One foot in front of the other.”
Three times, I fall. But I get back up. I have to find Dani. The guards and Ochoa aren’t anywhere around, so there’s a stairwell somewhere. In the pitch darkness, I have to rely on my other senses, and I feel along the wall, finding a window, another locked door right next to it, and then a second window. In another six steps, I’m at the end of the hall, and then a door next to me bursts open, sending my heartbeat skyrocketing.
“About damn time.” Ryker. His voice shouldn’t shock me. This is what he does. But we’ve barely talked since all the shit went down with Ripper and Cara. He only said half a dozen words to me at the wedding. I never expected him to lead the rescue team.
Yet, he’s the one who catches me when my legs give out, and if I thought he’d let me, I’d hug him. I’m so damn overwhelmed that he’d risk his team breaking into the most notorious prison in the Southern Hemisphere, I don’t know what to say.
“Relax, superman. We’ll do the work from here.” He claps his hand on my shoulder and holds on for the briefest of moments before passing me to another set of strong arms.
“Superman?”
“Just go with it,” Austin says as he shifts me so he can still hold a gun. “We were running out of characters.”
Somewhere close, I can sense Dani, and I look around blindly, needing to know she’s okay.
“Can it. Gotta find Rojas, then we can get the fuck out of here,” Ry says. “Gear him up and let’s go.”
“Put these on.” This voice belongs to Graham, I think, who hands me a pair of NVGs, then shoves a comms unit into my right ear. As soon as I get the goggles situated, my surroundings come into focus, and I can see Dani between Austin and Graham.
“Eyes and ears, ready to go,” I say.
“About to have company,” Ronan says over the line, and if I wasn’t certain we were going to find troubl
e at any minute, I’d have some words for him. Like how much more training he needs before coming on a mission like this. “A dozen hostiles breaching the exterior doors.”
“This is gonna get messy,” Ry mutters.
He’s about to say something else when emergency lights start flashing, the sudden brightness burning our eyes through the night vision. Almost as one, we tear off the NVGs. A pained whimper escapes Dani’s lips, and she grabs onto my arm. We’re all blind, and we’re sitting ducks.
“Move!” Ry orders. “Get Superman and Lois back up to the second level. Do not go any higher. Not with all the hostiles headed right for us. Base, what can you do about those goddamn lights?”
“Working on it,” Wren says, tension lacing her tone.
The elevator starts to whirr, and in front of me, I can feel Ryker tense. “Go. Now!” he says and slaps Austin on the back as he and Graham raise their rifles and advance on the elevator.
The door to the stairwell closes behind us to a burst of gunfire, and we double-time it up the stairs. My legs are still screaming in agony, but Austin supports much of my weight, and each step is easier than the last. By the time we reach the second level, I think I might be able to stand on my own.
Austin passes me off to Dani, then cracks the door. Her arm tightens around my waist, and fuck, it’s the best feeling in the world to have her next to me again. “I can manage, baby,” I whisper in her ear. “As long as you’re safe, I can do anything.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” she hisses back.
“Clear,” Austin says. “Let’s go. We’re headed for the security room. If base can’t cut the power again, at least we’ll be able to see what’s coming for us. Plus, that door should be reinforced according to the blueprints.”
We don’t make it three steps before a barrage of gunfire erupts from the other end of the floor. I pull Dani against the wall while Austin starts to bob and weave, returning fire as he heads for the cadre of soldiers fifty feet away. “Go!” he shouts.
My quads strain as we rush forward, and those damn flashing lights make it almost impossible to get my bearings with any certainty. Dani pushes through a door and freezes as the overhead lights flicker to light and flood the room in sudden brightness.
“Drop the gun, Daniella,” Ochoa says. His pistol is aimed directly at Dani’s head.
She doesn’t move, and I squeeze her shoulders before letting her go. We need to keep Ochoa occupied until someone hears we’re in trouble or I can find a way to disarm him. “It’s okay. Just set it down gently.”
Dani inches in front of me, putting herself between me and Ochoa. “It’s too late, General. I was lying when I told you the news article about you was coming out in two days. Part One went out two hours ago. And there’s a hell of a lot more in it than just a few incriminating text messages.”
“Gun. Now,” he says, but there’s fear in his eyes. Behind him, on the monitors, I can see Ryker and Graham moving through Sublevel Four, firing the occasional shot and dropping soldier after soldier who stands in their way. And then, one who holds up his hands in surrender and gestures something I can’t understand.
Dani hasn’t moved. Her right arm is down by her side, the barrel of the gun pointed towards the floor. She’s not a threat. Not when the general is ready to fire. But she’s not giving in either.
“Aren’t you interested in what else I found?” she asks sweetly. “Because you might want to consider running far away from here. Presidente Farías won’t be too happy with you when he learns you’ve been siphoning off a portion of the money he’s stealing from the Venezuelan people.”
“Puta,” Ochoa growls. Striding forward, he grabs Dani’s wrist and wrenches it hard. She cries out in pain and drops her weapon while he jabs the barrel of his pistol against her side.
On one of the monitors, Austin heads straight for us, and the look in his eyes? That’s the most controlled man I’ve ever met about to blow his stack and burn down the world.
“Call me a bitch one more time,” Dani manages as the general pulls her away from me, “and you’ll be sorry.”
“I do not think so, puta. You will regret ever coming here. So will your CIA spy when he has to watch me have my way with you.”
“Ready to breech,” Austin says on comms. “Distraction coming in five, four, three, two, one.” Multiple shots right outside the door pull Ochoa’s gaze away from Dani, and she grabs the barrel of the gun with one hand and the general’s wrist with the other, twisting sharply. He’s caught off guard, and I surge forward, dropping my shoulder and catching him under his right arm. The three of us go down in a heap as Austin kicks the door in.
“I can’t get a shot!” He’s pissed as hell, but this bastard’s mine. Dani wrestles the gun away from him, but Ochoa uses his free hand to punch her in the face, and she yelps, losing her hold on the weapon.
“Get Dani,” I grunt as I ram my fist into the general’s back, landing a hard strike in the vicinity of his right kidney. That gives me enough time to snatch the gun from the floor.
Austin grabs Dani around the waist and pulls her off of Ochoa, and as she sputters a protest, I hold the bastard’s gaze, the gun pressed to his heart. “You should have known, asswipe. I don’t break promises,” I say, then squeeze the trigger.
Dani
Half a dozen armed resistance fighters help liberate the facility, and within an hour of Trevor killing Ochoa, The Crypt is nothing but a burned out shell. Ry, Graham, and Ronan went back through the lower floors after everyone still living had been cleared out and set explosives on every level.
“Blowing it now,” Ry says from his position just outside of the open doors of the van. Trevor leans against me, and though he looks a lot better after two bottles of water and a protein bar, there’s a haunted, almost vacant look in his eyes that breaks my heart.
The ground under us shakes, and even from half a mile away, we can hear The Crypt’s windows shatter.
Trevor jerks, and I reach over and cup his cheek. “Look at me, TJ.” As soon as he does, I regret asking. With the bright red wound now bisecting my cheek and blood staining my face and chest, every time he sees me, he blames himself even more.
I don’t know how we can get past this. Or if we ever will. But dammit, I have to try to get through to him. “Listen to me. I am never going to give up on you. I lost you once because I was too scared to get in your face and tell you how I felt. I’m not now.”
He starts to protest, but Austin clears his throat as he ducks his head inside the van. “Dani, Luis is here.”
Letting Trevor go feels wrong, but Luis had to watch Ochoa torture me, and he’s the reason for everything that’s happened since I walked into Trevor’s office two weeks ago. The good and the bad. “I’ll be right back,” I whisper as I brush my lips to Trevor’s cheek.
Luis leans heavily on Franco and another man—one of the resistance fighters—and his eyes light up as I step out of the van.
“Mi hija—“
The term—my daughter—sends panic flooding me. “Don’t. Please.” Behind me, Trevor gets to his feet, and I glance back at him. He’s in full protective mode, but I shake my head, and he sinks back down onto the bench seat, but keeps his eyes glued on me.
“I’m sorry,” I say when I turn back to Luis. “That came out wrong.” A deep breath shudders through me, and I try again. “Kate died when I was less than a year old. When I was eight, I was adopted by two amazing people. Steve and Betsy are my parents in every way that counts.” Looking to Austin, I hold out my hand, and he joins me. “And this is their son, my brother, Austin.”
Luis’s eyes water, and he presses his lips together when they start to wobble.
“This…me coming here? It was never about replacing my dad. It was about finding the man who saved Kate from a dangerous, terrible situation, and being able to look him in the eyes and thank him.”
A single tear spills onto his cheek. “I put you in great danger,” he says. “I understand if you
cannot forgive me.”
“No!” I rush forward and take Luis’s hand. “There’s nothing to forgive. You have to see that.” With a quick peek back at Trevor, I hope he understands my words are meant as much for him as Luis. “You are a good man. A fighter. A leader. Once I learned that, I had to do something. I thought writing an article for the Post would be enough. That if I did my job and prayed for a miracle, that I’d be able to help you—and the Venezuelan people. And learn a little about where I came from.”
“You did that,” he says.
“No.” Shaking my head makes my cheek throb, but I hide my wince as I release Luis’s hand and gesture to the men around me. “We did that. All of us. Along with half a dozen people back in the United States. And you.”
“I did nothing but cause you pain. You were injured because of me. You could have been killed. Because of me. I abandoned you so many years ago, and now—“
I stop him. “Luis, you gave me so much more than you’ll ever know. But, I can’t stay here, and you can’t leave. The people here need you. Once we release all the records we found of Farías and Ochoa’s crimes, this country is going to need leaders who care. Who are honest and good and will do what’s best for its people. You’re one of them.”
Luis’s shoulders straighten, and his chest puffs out slightly at my praise.
“I don’t think I can ever come back to Venezuela again. But…maybe when things settle down a bit, you could call me. Or send me an email.”
He nods, another tear staining his cheek. “I would like that. To know you.”
I hug the man I may never call father, but who will forever be a part of my family, and then watch as his brother and the other resistance fighter help him back down the street.
Ryker appears without warning at my side and stares down at me. “Ready to get the fuck out of here?”
Looking back at Trevor, I realize just how much I need to get him alone so we can talk about…everything. “Hell yes.”
Call Sign: Redemption Page 19