by Linda Ladd
Thrusting the paddle deep into the water, he started stroking toward shore with long hard strokes. The momentum propelled him swiftly away from the hull until he skimmed swiftly out over the dark water. He didn’t have to fight against the wild chop driven in to shore by the massive thunderstorm raging miles out at sea. The currents helped increase his speed. Unfortunately, it would be a fight to reach the boat on the way back.
For several hours he’d sat out on deck in the dark, waiting to move and watching nature’s fireworks flitting and flaming across the horizon. Jags of horizontal lightning had flared and died, backlighting the silvery clouds, and then faded away, only to appear again in psychedelic bursts of energy. It had been almost hypnotic to him watching the jittery strobe effect. The smell of ozone was thick in the wind driving in behind him, and he could feel the restlessness of the ocean beneath his feet. That furious storm onslaught was headed his way. He glanced behind him at the Sweet Sarah. She was barely visible now. A second later the sailboat was silhouetted as a bolt of blinding lightning forked down with a golden stab into the sea. Faraway thunder promised more to come and then faded away.
Novak hunched lower. If he could see the sailboat in the lightning flashes, the men on shore could see him. He increased his labor with the paddle; he wanted to get in and out fast. Violence in the sky would complicate that. It was already raining, but only a drizzle that stippled the water around him. A downpour could be a good thing. Every sound, every crack of thunder and gust of wind would distract the guards and make Novak harder to spot. Only dim solar lights were affixed atop the seawall but at wide intervals that enabled him to pick out the shadows of men on patrol. There weren’t many about. The ones who were stood under palm trees or under the dock overhang, afraid they’d get wet, no doubt. They had to be young thugs out of Houston, nowhere near tried and trained bodyguards. Novak wondered why the judge felt the need to hire inferior protection when he could pay trained mercenaries who would be a thousand times more competent.
Once Novak got closer, he tried to hit the beach around a forty-degree angle away from the long dock. He lifted the paddle about twenty yards offshore, kept low and allowed the surf to push the Zodiac up onto on the sand. When it scraped the beach, he eased out and pulled it all the way up. He estimated about thirty yards separated him from the dock, but he had come in at the far corner of the perimeter wall. Dragging the boat up, he took cover behind the wall. He left the boat there and waded back to the water. When he was chest-deep, he used a breaststroke to pass through the breakers and swam toward Locke’s speedboats moored to the dock. They were guarded, two men, but they were standing out on the sand a good distance away. These guys were laughable. Bits of their conversation drifted out to him over the low rush of the waves. It sounded as if they were debating pros and cons of Dallas Cowboys football. When he reached the end of the dock, he lifted himself up into the first boat, found the gas tanks, pulled out his Ka-Bar, and punched several huge gashes that let the fuel drain into the water. Then he moved to the other boat and sabotaged it. Nobody noticed him; nobody watching. It was an effective deterrent. They weren’t going anywhere on empty tanks. Once that was done, he swam to deeper water and floated closer on the incoming surf where he was less visible. The guards sauntered down the beach, still clueless.
They were talking animatedly and weren’t worried about intruders. Once they got far enough away, Novak let the waves push him the rest of the way in. When his feet touched bottom, he crawled up on the sand. He made it to the seawall undetected and flattened his back against the thick stucco. He waited there to catch his breath and listen for alarms. All he heard was the rhythmic ebb and crash of salt water against sand, and the cold raindrops spattering his sodden clothes. The rain was intensifying.
Novak squinted out over the water but couldn’t spot the boat. That was good. If he couldn’t see it, they couldn’t see it. If Lori was on the ball, she’d be under a protective tarp now and have the night scope beaded in on every move he made. He hoped to hell she did. The idea of her out there gave him a sense of security. She wasn’t a badass SEAL but she could shoot.
Once the guards were far enough down the beach, he backed off a few feet, took a run at the wall, and managed to climb up enough to grab a handhold. He swung himself up and lay flat for a moment. He pulled out his weapon and broke the nearest solar light. Still no alarm. He dropped down inside the compound. The lawn felt soggy under his feet. There was thick shrubbery planted along the wall, and the tall palm trees were swaying, the fronds rustling in the wind, but the twinkling lights glittering around their trunks had been turned off. The house and grounds were dark enough to provide cover. He skirted the wall and found the wide boardwalk that would take him up to the pool and then the house just beyond.
He squatted down behind an outdoor shower at the bottom of the walkway. He sat there a moment, watching and waiting, fearing someone would unknowingly blunder upon him. Nobody showed, but there was a guard on the rear patio close to where the judge had sat earlier. It was quiet inside the wall, the sounds of the sea muted slightly. He crept up the incline, but he was in no man’s land and hoped Lori could still pick up his movements with the scope.
The house was now twenty yards above his position, and the shimmering pool shone turquoise in the darkness, painting the white stucco on the back of the house with reflections off the windblown water. He skirted it, but the night-lights set at the base of the exterior wall were a problem. Still, there were deep shadows, and he kept to them. Wind and swaying palms and steady rain drumming on the surface of the pool concealed any sounds he made. Everything was going okay so far, but he didn’t expect that to last. He made his way around to the garage, slipped inside and found no guards, and then checked it for prisoners. Nothing. The attached guesthouse turned out to be housing for the guards. Most of them were inside there, asleep, he hoped. Judith and Lucy were not there.
Returning to the house, he stood behind a thick palm and searched the windows facing the sea. The living room and kitchen he’d observed from the boat were now pitch black. He moved around the side of the house where Lori had told him there were four bedrooms on the second floor. He knew she couldn’t sight him in there so he was in no man’s land. Two windows right above him were dark, but the second two had dim lights burning inside, most likely night-lights. His gut told him the children were probably in one or both rooms, so he made his way beneath them and took a knee. That’s when a guard stepped around the corner of the house, smack-dab in front of him.
Face to face, both of them were shocked standstill for the first seconds. Novak moved first. He rocketed up out of his crouch, hit the guy with an undercut to the jaw, and grabbed the guy before he could hit the ground. He got behind him with one hand over his mouth and the other around the neck and started squeezing off his air. The guy struggled, but he was skinny and weak and half Novak’s size and nowhere near as strong. Novak kept him in the blood chokehold until he lost consciousness. Within seconds, he turned slack and hung limp. Novak dragged him into some bushes hugging the house, pulled out the duct tape, and bound him up, wrists, ankles, and mouth. Nobody showed up to help the guy.
The Spanish architecture of the house included black wrought-iron private balconies outside each bedroom, a definite siren call to burglars or any other intruder. The balconies were bolted nice and tight to the thick stucco walls with perfect footholds for scaling to the top floor. Novak never understood why people would build such open invitations for trouble. He took a running jump, caught hold of the bottom of the upper balcony, and pulled himself up until he could swing over the railing onto the small balcony outside the glass sliding door.
Seconds later, he was up there and watching for guards. The slider was undraped. He took a quick peek inside. It was the nanny’s room. She was sound asleep in her bed, a hardback book facedown atop her chest and a small reading lamp burning on the bedside table. He climbed over the side railing and jumped
to the next balcony. There, he hit pay dirt. Inside, both children were snuggled together under the covers of one of the twin beds. A night-light burned on the table between the beds, the kind that rotated while playing lullabies and casting moving pictures of animals dancing and cavorting on the ceiling and walls.
The balcony door was locked, but he slipped it with no trouble. He inched it open wide enough to step inside. Closing it behind him, he knelt down and listened. No sound except the soft soothing music of the night-light. This was all going way too easy. He wasn’t used to easy extractions; there was always a snag. He stood back against the wall and searched each corner of the room for a security camera. He didn’t see any. That surprised him, too. He figured the judge was a sleazy voyeur, the kind of man who liked to watch people in their bedrooms. But it could be hidden. He’d have to take that chance. The room was painted white and looked utterly austere. It looked nothing like most child nurseries. It looked more like a sterile room in a sanitarium. There was a big-screen TV on the wall right across from the beds, but Novak saw no toys, no children’s books, no cute posters depicting Disney princesses or Mickey Mouse or Dora the Explorer, nothing.
Still hesitant, Novak stood there without moving and watched them a moment. No way would he not scare the hell out of those two little girls. He was dressed in black clothes and a black watch cap, his face blackened to blend into the night. He would be a huge dark monster looming up unexpectedly in the night, a bogeyman come to get them. They were going to be terrified. That didn’t sit well, but he had no choice. He had to get them out of there. Inching closer to the bed, he got a better look at the children and froze in his tracks. The four-year-old was wide awake. What was her name? Susie? Big brown eyes were glued on him, huge and horrified and reflecting the night-light. Stiff with dread, she stared mutely at him. Novak immediately dropped down on his haunches, trying to look less intimidating. He softened his voice. “Hi, Susie, don’t be afraid of me. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”
Susie pulled the blanket up and hid her face. Novak wouldn’t have believed him, either. Under the covers, her body was shaking. Novak glanced at the door leading out into the hall. “Listen to me, sweetie, I know you’re scared. But you remember that lady you call Bunny. The one who knows your mommy?” The child did not move a muscle. “Well, I know her, too. She’s awfully worried about you, so she sent me in here to get you and your sister so we can go find your mommy. If you’ll stay real quiet and come with me now, I’ll take you to her, but you gotta be very quiet. Okay, Susie, okay? Will you come with me?”
It took her a few minutes to garner her courage, minutes that Novak didn’t have. She finally peeked out from under the quilt. Her eyes were wide but wary.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I promise you, Susie. Okay? Bunny wants you to come and see her. You remember her, don’t you? Her real name’s Lori.”
Susie’s eyes were locked on Novak’s face, and her voice finally came, low and hesitant, a mere whisper. “Are you gonna take us away from Grandfather?”
Novak swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to say yes or no. “I’ve got to, baby. Your mommy doesn’t want you and Sammi to stay here with him, not anymore. She wants you to come be with her, okay? That’s why I’ve got to sneak in your room like this, so your grandfather won’t know. And that’s why you’ve got to be real quiet when I take you out.” He looked at the smaller girl. She was still asleep. “You think you can make Sammi be quiet, too?” Because he didn’t think she could, and he didn’t think a three-year-old was going to understand anything, no matter what he said. “Is there anybody else here in the house, Susie? Is your mommy here or a girl with red hair? Her name’s Lucy?”
She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “Just me and Sammi and Nanny. And Grandfather. He took us away from our mommy.”
“I know. We’re going to find her, I promise. Come with me and we’ll look for her, okay?”
“You promise, cross your heart?”
Novak didn’t have time to cajole the kids. “Yes, I do. What about the girl named Lucy? Have you seen her anywhere? Up here in the bedrooms, maybe?”
She shook her head again. She had the most enormous brown eyes, so dark they glittered in the dim illumination. “Just Grandfather and those men he has around.”
“I’m gonna find your mommy, I promise, but we’ve got to get you out of this house, okay? Remember, you can’t make noises or scream or cry. If you do, they’ll make you stay here.”
“I won’t cry.” Susie wasn’t exactly convincing.
“Okay, then wake up Sammi and tell her I’m not going to hurt her, okay? She’s got to be quiet, too, or your grandfather’s gonna hear us.”
She nodded again.
Novak left her and moved back to the door that led into the hall. Susie shook her sister awake, and they started whispering. He cracked the door. Nobody was in the hallway. Not a sound. He shut and locked it and then returned to the bed. Sammi looked as if he was there to kill her. He knelt down. “Okay, I’m gonna pick you up, and we’re going out through your balcony over there. Your grandfather and Nanny won’t hear us if we leave that way. That means you both have to hang on tight and not let go of my neck, no matter what. Your friend, Bunny? She’s out there in a boat waiting for you to come and help her find your mommy. You’ve got to be brave. I won’t drop you, but you have to hold on tight. Okay?”
Susie nodded, but Sammi turned over and hid her face in the pillow. Susie pushed down the covers and climbed out of bed. Then she pulled her sister out from under the covers. They both stared at him. Novak had a bad feeling this would turn into a disaster.
“Let’s go. Bunny’s waiting out on the boat.”
Sammi was the tiniest little thing. They both seemed small for their ages. Novak looked at them, fighting an overwhelming impulse to surprise Calvin Locke in his bed and end him while he slept, quick and efficient and forever. But he couldn’t do that yet. He needed to get these kids somewhere safe, and fast.
Novak led them to the balcony door and knelt, putting his forefinger to his lips. Mute and docile, the little girls stood silently, staring at him. He wondered what they’d been through alone with Locke all this time and then wished he hadn’t. “Okay, here’s the deal. Susie, I’m putting you on my back, and you’ve got to hold on as tight as you can around my neck while I take you down. You can’t let go, no matter what, okay?”
She nodded, and Novak looked at the little one. “I’m going to hold you in front of me, Sammi, is that okay? Remember, you have to be quiet. We don’t want anyone to hear us before we get out there to your friend, Bunny. Okay, it’s going to be all right, I promise. I’m not going to let you fall. I’ll be holding on to you too tight.”
Susie nodded. Sammi just stared. They didn’t act like normal kids would when awakened by a big stranger in the middle of the night. Most children would scream their heads off if he showed up, dressed in all black. These children seemed used to it, and that did not bode well. He told them not to let go, no matter what, and they both immediately locked their arms in strangleholds around his neck. He stood up, taking them with him, one arm around the baby, the other holding Susie on his back. It felt as if they weighed nothing. It would not be hard taking them down to the ground. They didn’t move, but they were breathing hard, scared to death. He held onto Sammi tight with one arm as he swung his leg over the rail. Susie had a tighter hold. He turned and quickly climbed down with them until he was hanging by one hand off the balcony. Then he let go and held both girls in place as he dropped down to the ground.
When his feet hit, it shook Susie halfway off. He caught her by her nightgown and thrust her back in place. Sammi lay against his chest, her arms clasped around his neck and her face buried in his jacket. Neither made a sound. He was both relieved and surprised. He knelt and lowered them to the ground, and then he drew his weapon, fearing a guard might have heard them. Nothing
stirred. The first guard was still lying prostrate in the bushes. But Novak’s pulse was jumping as he waited to be attacked.
After a moment, he scooped both girls up on his left arm. They both grabbed his neck again. Now came the hard part, the part where they could get hurt. His experience was telling him to beware, tread softly, but his heart was screaming to hurry up and get them the hell out of there. Both girls were breathing hard; he could actually feel their rapid heartbeats. They were going to need a lot of love and attention after this scary night, maybe even a good child psychologist. Lori better have some magic up her sleeve to calm them down. He stayed as low as he could, clutching them tight, keeping to the shadows but moving as fast as he safely could. He kept his eyes alert and ears open, listening to any sound. Short palms and thick, manicured vegetation grew along the boardwalk. He didn’t step up on it but followed it down to the wall. Sammi sounded like she was gasping for breath now, absolutely scared out of her wits, maybe on the verge of screaming. He could not let her do that, or they were done for. He had to calm her down.
“It’s okay, Sammi, I promise. I’ve got you, you’re okay,” he breathed his words into her pale hair, out of breath himself. She smelled like baby powder, but she was too scared to listen to anything he said. She started out with a little sob, soft at first, but then she let go with it. When Sammi started crying, Susie gave her first little whimper. Novak didn’t waste any more words; they were much too scared. Watching for guards, he headed hard for the beach.
About the time Novak came up level with the shower stall, a burly guard showed up where the wall opened onto the beach. When he glimpsed Novak, he stopped in his tracks then went for his rifle. Novak dropped the girls to the sand and lunged at him, grabbing for the weapon. His forward momentum sent both of them to the ground and rolling out onto the deep sand on the beach. They grappled there for possession of the rifle until the guard got his arm loose and punched Novak in the head. He ducked to the side, but the blow sent his mind spinning. Then the guard crawled desperately for the rifle a few feet away. Novak grabbed the guy’s legs and jerked him back, struggling to get on top of him and force him on his back.