by Diana Miller
“You know me.”
“I also know you’re one of the only people smart enough to pull it off.”
“You think flattery will make me forgive you?”
The hint of humor in Ryan’s voice was encouraging. “How about cash?”
Ryan actually chuckled. “Forget it. I forgive you. I’m putting your temporary insanity down to your desire to keep Jillian safe. You love her, don’t you?”
Paul walked across the cave. “She doesn’t love me, you know. It’s because we’re stuck together, and she’s dependent on me. One of those captor-hostage things.”
“I wasn’t asking about Jillian. I was asking about you.”
Paul moved the rock that blocked the exit. “Why, were you serious about wanting a shot at her?”
“Would you let me have one?”
Paul set the rock aside, turned and met Ryan’s eyes. “Over my dead body.”
“Got it.”
“Speaking of my dead body, if I don’t survive, make sure Jillian’s all right. She’s been through a lot.”
“I promise,” Ryan said solemnly. “We’re both going to survive, though, aren’t we?”
“Damn right,” Paul said. “I have a plan. A couple actually.”
Ryan grinned. “That’s what I like most about you. No matter what happens, you’ve always got yet another plan. Let’s hear it.”
Chapter 26
Paul’s Plan A was simple. He and Ryan were heading for the compound. It was the most secure place on the island, and once there, they’d have access to the computers, monitors, and other useful things.
Stepping out of the cave into clear sunshine, Paul inhaled the scents of lush greenery, moist earth, salt, and a hint of flowers. Not even a whiff of smoke, thank God, since if the compound had burned, Plan A was moot. “Stay here while I check whether they’ve landed.”
Ryan grabbed his arm. “Let me go.”
Paul shook his head. “I don’t want to risk having them see you and lose that element of surprise.”
“I don’t want to risk your safety, not after all the trouble I’ve gone to for you already,” Ryan said. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll think you don’t trust me.”
“If I didn’t trust you, you’d be dead.” Then Paul jogged into the tunnel of trees.
* * * *
Ten minutes later Paul stepped out of the foliage and found Ryan tapping his gun against his thigh.
“What took you so long?” Ryan asked. “I was ready to come after you.”
“Like I’d need backup. I waited until they landed. Taurino, the man who shot at me in D.C., and two others.”
“Heading for the compound?”
“I assume so. Two went north on the path around the island, and Taurino and my friend headed south. I picked this up for you.” Paul handed Ryan a grenade. “You know how to use this, don’t you?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Like I need instructions. Should we split up?”
“We’ll go together. In case Taurino bought both Sam and Mac, and they’ve taken over the compound.”
“Not that you couldn’t take out both of them yourself,” Ryan said dryly.
“Of course I could, but why waste the energy when you’re around?”
They traveled what Paul’s grandfather had christened Crow’s Road because it was the quickest way from the house to the beach as the crow flies, not that any crows ventured within flying distance of the island. As they trudged uphill along the grassy path that cut through the trees behind the caves, Paul’s adrenaline kicked in, his mind focused and senses sharpened the way they always did when he reached the payoff phase of a mission. Excitement and confidence, tempered with just enough fear to stave off recklessness. The feeling he’d once been addicted to, and why now, despite the danger, he was enjoying himself.
Or why he would have been, if he weren’t so damn worried about Jillian. If they failed, Taurino’s men would tear the island apart looking for her. They’d find her, too, if not in the cave, then when she eventually came out to learn what had happened. If they failed, Jillian was as good as dead.
They couldn’t fail.
Paul heard the murmur of voices to their left.
“This time I’m checking them out.” Ryan slipped through the trees before Paul had a chance to object.
To be safe, Paul stepped off the path and into the trees for cover. More of that damn waiting he hated. Other than keeping alert in case someone else showed, he couldn’t do anything until Ryan got back. Although he could create a Plan B in case Ryan didn’t come back. A horrible thought, but hopefully that would distract him from more worrying about Jillian.
Paul was relieved when after less than five minutes Ryan returned. The Plan B options he’d come up with for facing everyone without Ryan hadn’t looked promising.
“Two, not Taurino, on the other side of that crest.” Ryan pointed.
“I’ll bet they’re in range of these babies.” Paul held up his grenade. “Want to help me take them out?”
“Won’t we be alerting their associates of our position?”
Paul shrugged. “We’ll be gone before they get here. I can handle our odds, but I wouldn’t mind bettering them.”
They crept to the top of the hill and looked down, staying in the cover of the trees. They needn’t have bothered. With the beach and ocean on the visitors’ left, both men on the dirt path focused on the thick foliage to their right, never even glancing up the hill. When the men were directly below, Paul nodded, and he and Ryan launched their grenades. As they raced back to Crow’s Road, two nearly simultaneous explosions obscured the sounds of their footsteps.
Silence. No voices, cries, or even groans.
“Bull’s-eye,” Paul said. “Let’s get to the compound.”
The path ended at the stone fence on the west side of the compound. Paul knelt and removed a single terra cotta stone from near the bottom, exposing a keypad.
“I used that to sneak in a couple days ago,” Ryan said. “I’m glad you hadn’t changed the code. Thanks for the wine. I needed it.”
“Someone’s already shut the system off.” Paul replaced the stone. “I assume the gate’s also unlocked, but to be safe let’s go over.” He climbed the section of fence that three palm trees concealed from view from the house. He lowered himself onto the grass then peered around one palm. The grounds appeared deserted.
Paul crept along the fence to the back of the house. Bracing himself for gunshots, he raced across the lawn to the building that held the office, avoiding the security cameras line of sight whenever possible. After he and Ryan reached the office, Paul rested his ear against the steel door. “Let me go in first. If I get into trouble, you can surprise them.”
He entered the security code and turned the door handle. Nothing, but then there wouldn’t be. Even amateurs knew not to react to that old trick. Paul threw the door open and stepped aside. Still nothing. Cautiously, he entered the front room, looked around, and then made his way to the back. “It’s clear.” He checked the monitors. “Damn.”
“What?” Ryan asked.
Paul pointed to the living room monitor. Harry was lying on his back on the Persian carpet, beside the coffee table. He wasn’t moving.
“Mac’s in the kitchen,” Paul said. Another monitor showed him looking out the kitchen window, gun in hand.
“I don’t see Sam anywhere,” Ryan said.
“Neither do I. Which must mean he’s either dead or injured, but somewhere out of camera range.”
Mac walked into the living room. He squatted beside Harry’s motionless body for a moment, although his own body concealed what he did, if anything. Then he stood and marched to one of the arched windows along the living room’s front wall.
“I don’t see Taurino or his friend,” Paul said. “I assume we beat them, but watch your back when we get to the house.”
“Front or back door?” Ryan asked.
“Neither. A tunnel from the storage closet in here leads to the basement.” Paul grabbed a flashlight. “If I show you that, you’ll know for sure I trust you.”
They walked into a large closet in the front room of the office, sidestepping weapons and office supplies to reach the back wall, where Paul opened a panel. Beyond it was a staircase leading to a dark, musty tunnel, just wide enough for them to walk single-file. At the end of the tunnel, Paul opened another panel, and they stepped into the basement.
“I’ll take the living room, you take the kitchen,” Paul whispered. “Be careful.”
He and Ryan ascended the basement stairs, quietly opened the door, stepped out, and separated.
Mac still stood beside the arched window. He’d pulled back one of the gold silk drapes a few inches so he could watch the front lawn. Holding his breath, Paul stole around the sofa until he was standing in line with Mac. “Drop your gun and turn around slowly.”
Mac didn’t move—and Paul’s sixth sense started screaming. Because someone was behind him.
* * * *
Jillian paced. She’d never paced in her life, but she’d decided to try it when she’d finished every meditation and relaxation trick she’d ever heard of and still felt like jumping out of her skin. Not that pacing was helping much either, but at least she didn’t have to sit still to do it.
The uncertainty was driving her crazy. She felt as if she’d been in dismal dimness for hours, nerve-rackingly silent except for her pounding heart, accelerated breathing, and the slap of her running shoes on the dirt. And that horrible roar a while ago, which she refused to think about.
She could certainly appreciate the hell families went through waiting in the ER, although at least they got periodic updates. Not like here, where both Paul and Ryan might be dead, and she wouldn’t know it until—
“Thank God I found you!”
Jillian whirled around, pointing her gun toward the voice echoing in the cavern.
Sam stood just inside the tunnel, breathing hard. “Paul needs you at the house. Mac shot him. Here.” He indicated the side of his stomach.
Jillian’s blood chilled. A bullet in that vicinity could do a lot of damage. “How much is he bleeding?” She tried to sound calm and professional, even though they were talking about the man she loved.
“A hell of a lot, and nothing I did would slow it. That’s why he sent me here to get you, even though Taurino’s probably on his way to the house.” Sam turned back toward the tunnel.
Why hadn’t she gone with Paul? Every second counted with gunshot wounds.
But Ryan had said either Sam or Mac was working for Taurino. She couldn’t follow Sam simply because he claimed Paul had been shot. Maybe this was a trick.
Sam looked over his shoulder. “We’ve got to hurry to Paul. I don’t want him to die.”
“You said Mac shot Paul?”
Sam faced her, frowning. “I walked into the house just as Mac killed Harry. I went back outside and hid until I looked through a window and saw Paul in the house. I sneaked in to help him.” He shook his head. “Thank God I did, since when I got there, Mac spun around and shot Paul. I killed Mac before he got off a second shot.”
Sam crumpled against the wall and covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe Mac was dirty. I worked with him for years, thought he was my best friend. He must have gotten in with Taurino when he worked in Miami.” His voice shook. “I killed him. I killed Mac.”
If Sam was telling the truth, she was wasting valuable time. If she could only be sure.
Sam took a couple shaky breaths, then removed his hands from his face and raised his head. “I understand your caution, but we have to get to Paul before he loses more blood. If I was working for Taurino, I’d have pulled my gun when I came in, since I know damn well you’d never shoot me. Besides, how would I have found this place if Paul hadn’t told me about it?”
He waved his hands. “If you don’t want to help Paul fine, but let me go. I killed my partner to protect him, damn it. I’m not letting him die!”
Sam’s face had a rosy tint, and he sounded too agitated to be faking it. More important, everything he said made sense. Jillian’s heart hammered, pumping icy panic through her veins. Paul really had been shot and needed her help, although God knows what she could do with the limited medical supplies they presumably had at the house. If she didn’t get there soon, she might be too late to even try.
She sprinted toward Sam. “We need to hurry.”
Chapter 27
Mac’s gun hit the carpet. “Don’t shoot. I’m on your side.” Hands raised, he slowly turned.
“I’ll secure Mac while you check on Harry,” Ryan said from behind Paul.
Paul’s jackhammering heart decelerated. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Just watching your back.”
“What did you do to him?” Paul knelt beside Harry. He had a wide bandage on his chest.
“Sam shot him, but he was still alive last time I checked.” Mac stood still while Ryan handcuffed him. “I didn’t know what to do besides bandage him and try to keep Taurino’s muscle from finishing him off when they show.”
“Too bad Jillian isn’t here,” Ryan said.
A sentiment Paul echoed. Harry was alive, but his breathing was shallow, his pulse was weak, and blood seeped through the bandage. Definitely in need of medical help.
“What the hell are you doing here, Seaton?” Mac asked. “I thought you were off on some important assignment.”
“I’ll ask the questions.” Since he couldn’t help Harry, Paul got to his feet. “What did you do to Sam?”
“Me do to Sam? The bastard shot me, too, and then took off.” Mac inclined his head toward his left shoulder. “Open my shirt.”
Ryan unbuttoned Mac’s blue work shirt. A bandage covered the left side of his upper chest.
“I was sleeping when the bomb dropped. Sam yelled at me to go to the house. I got here just in time to see him shoot Harry, then he shot me.” Mac shook his head. “All the years we’ve worked together, that I thought we were friends, and he shot me without blinking an eye.”
“You might have done it yourself as a ruse,” Paul said.
Mac grimaced. “I’d have made sure it was flesh wound. This one hurts like hell, and the bullet’s still in there. Take off the bandage if you don’t believe me.”
Ryan pulled Mac’s shirt down around his arms then loosened the bandage enough to inspect the wound. “I think he’s right about the bullet. I don’t see an exit hole.” He secured the bandage then pulled Mac’s shirt back up.
“You were in Miami,” Paul said.
Mac nodded grimly. “Which is why I hate Taurino and everyone involved with him. They killed two of our guys while I was there. Tortured ’em first. When they sent us to guard you in the Rockies, and I learned you were the one bringing down Taurino’s syndicate, I got extra motivated to protect you.”
Paul nodded noncommittally. A nice speech that could be a load of crap. “Where’s Sam?”
“Probably went to meet Taurino since he thinks he’s taken care of everyone at the house,” Mac said. “When he shot me, I fell forward and played dead. I was hoping he wouldn’t check whether I really was, and he didn’t. Sam’s a little cocky and in too much of a hurry sometimes. Makes him sloppy.”
Paul looked at Ryan, who responded with a barely perceptible nod. Although Paul’s brain agreed they should trust Mac, his gut wasn’t totally sold. “Do you feel well enough to shoot?”
“With the right motivation. Like stopping Taurino.”
The conviction in Mac’s tone did a lot to convince Paul’s gut. “I assume everyone will come to the compound, since that’s where they’d expect me to go. They won’t know for sure I’m here, and they’ll think I’m alone. That gives us the advantage.”
“Does that mean we trust him?” Ryan asked.
Paul shrugged. “Enough to let him watch the mo
nitors. If we’re wrong, we’ll shoot him. We’ve got two against one.”
Ryan smiled faintly. “And this time one of them isn’t Jillian.”
“Where is Jillian?” Mac asked.
“Somewhere safe,” Paul said.
“Good. I wouldn’t want her running into any of those guys.”
“She won’t.” That was one of the few things Paul was completely confident of. “Take off his handcuffs. We’re all going to the office.”
* * * *
Jillian’s heartbeats throbbed in her ears as she held her gun on Sam, the cool metal and solid weight comforting. “I don’t think Paul sent you. Sit down or I’ll shoot.”
“Of course, Paul sent me.”
“Sit down.” If Paul desperately needed medical attention, he’d have sent Ryan, who already knew the cave’s location, instead of wasting time giving Sam directions.
“Sit,” she said again, this time gesturing with her gun.
Sam lunged at her. Jillian didn’t have time to aim the gun before he grabbed her arms.
She struggled, trying to yank her arms loose, but his hands were like shackles. He muscled her right arm so her gun pointed ineffectually away then pried her fingers open, one at a time. The gun thudded to the dirt.
“If cunning doesn’t work, there’s always brute strength.” Sam held his own gun on her as he bent down to retrieve hers. “I thought I’d try cunning first, since I wasn’t positive you wouldn’t shoot me. Where’s Paul?”
“I don’t know.”
Sam twisted Jillian’s arm.
She winced. “He didn’t tell me where he was going.” Her heart was battering her chest so hard her lungs hurt.
Sam studied her for a moment then released her arm. “He probably thought it was safest to keep you in the dark.” He pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and made a call. “I have a guest. Dr. Rodgers. I figured that. Later.”
He stuffed the phone back into his pocket. “We’re getting out of here. You’re going first, but I’ll have one hand on your ankle and the other on my gun. I left the rock open so you won’t have to move it.”