What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7)

by Lexi Buchanan

  “Sorry to barge in,” she said. “I guess I got the wrong room. You get Internet on that?” Zoe pointed to his computer.

  “Hey.” He sat up and frowned. “You’re not crew, and I didn’t see you board. Stowaway?” He grinned, amused.

  Zoe smiled and shrugged. Good, maybe all the crew didn’t know she was Kadir’s prisoner.

  “I won’t tell.” He gave her a suggestive grin. “You can stay here.” He patted the bed beside him.

  Terrific. His price for silence.

  “Thanks, appreciate that,” she said sweetly. “May I?” She indicated the computer.

  “What do you want with it?”

  “I want to contact my friends, let them know I’m on my way. I have a backpack hidden in a storeroom.” She frowned. “I shouldn’t go out for it now. Someone might see me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll get it for you later.” He handed her his computer. “Make it quick, then get on over here.”

  “Thanks.” She propped the computer on the tiny sink so he couldn’t see the screen and started typing like a maniac.

  “So why did you stow away? Running away from a boyfriend? Husband? Did he give you that black eye?” the guy asked with disdain.

  Zoe glanced in the mirror over the sink. Her hair was mussed, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. Her right cheek was slightly swollen and black and blue. Hanging her head, she tried covering her cheek with her hair. “Boyfriend. He said he’d kill me next time. I had to get away.”

  He grimaced and brushed back her hair. “What a bastard. Does it hurt? Are you hungry?”

  She touched it. “A little. And yes to hungry. That’s sweet of you.” Gain an ally, good. Play along, but don’t overdo it. She hoped she didn’t have to kill him. He was barely a kid and probably had no idea that this ship was carrying an abducted slave. What else could be in the containers? Typing in the Skype number, she held her breath, waiting for the connection. “I’ll be quick.”

  She heard angry shouts from down the hall and running up or down metal steps.

  The connection was taking forever to go through.

  Hurry, hurry.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jason sat at Zoe’s kitchen table, staring into a cup of cold coffee. Dexter lay at his feet. The dog hadn’t left his side since she’d gone missing. A hand rested on his shoulder. “You’ve been up over thirty hours. Get some rest. The second I hear anything, I’ll call you.” Frank had been in touch will all the authorities, and there hadn’t been anything concrete reported.

  “What about Guzman?” Jason asked. “Did he get anything out of Kadir? I know the bastard knows where she is. What about her brother?”

  “Diplomatic immunity prevents us from doing much. It’s not been confirmed that Damien’s team is being held, but he’s missing. Usually, if terrorists have them, they like to send video with demands. They like the publicity. That hasn’t happened,” Frank said with a grim smile. “It could be a good sign or bad. Hard to say.”

  Jason rubbed his face. The weight of this disaster dragged him down where he barely had the will to breathe. “Any idea what happened?”

  Frank made a face. “We’ve lost communication, and they missed their evac point. Could mean they had a change of plans.”

  He looked up at Frank and shook his head. “It’s been over twenty-four hours. You know what that means with an abduction case.”

  “Jason, she’s alive. Kadir wants her. She’s White House staff but also CIA. General Guzman will authorize whatever military action necessary to get her back.”

  “A lot of good it will do if we don’t know where she is.” Jason got up and filled Dexter’s water dish, then made another pot of coffee. “Want some coffee?”

  Frank paced the room. He pointed to the bedroom. “Close your eyes for one hour. Tyler is going to take over here by then. I’ll wake you if I hear anything.”

  Jason nodded, finally agreeing. His phone buzzed, a different tune. Not a phone call or text. Someone was trying to Skype him.

  “Frank!” Jason waved to Frank as he answered the Skype. The screen opened up, and Zoe was there, her hair disheveled, eyes wide.

  “Jason? You there?” she whispered.

  “My God. Zoe, where are you? You okay?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. He heard voices in the background. “They’re coming. They know I got out.”

  “Where?” He gripped the phone so hard, he was afraid it might crack.

  She took a breath. “Freight ship, Cape Sienna, heading east. We passed a cruise ship about an hour ago.”

  “What cruise line?”

  “Don’t know.” She looked away from the screen. A male voice in the background asked her a question. “Talking to friends,” she answered the guy.

  “Who’s there with you?”

  “I’m Alex,” the guy answered, chuckling. “Who are you?”

  Jason ignored him. “Zoe, anything else you can tell us?”

  “I don’t know. Kadir uses doubles. He has Damien.” She turned to the guy. “Alex, what port are we heading to?” The voices in the background were now yelling.

  Jason clearly heard, “The bitch has got to be here somewhere.” Then pounding on a door. He saw the face of a man, not Alex, and then the screen went blank.

  Jason called up a Web site that showed the locations for all ships, trading vessels, private boats and fishing boats currently out to sea. Satellites used onboard GPS instruments to track the ships. He punched in a search for Cape Sienna.

  “Where?” Frank yelled. He started punching in a phone number then stopped.

  “Couple hours out in the Atlantic. Destination is Port of Valencia, Spain. They left out of Norfolk. Why aren’t you calling the Coast Guard or FBI?”

  “What about the mission? The FLC? Won’t we risk exposure?” Frank asked.

  “Are you crazy? Screw the mission and the FLC. We’re getting her back.”

  Frank rubbed his forehead and pressed his lips together. “What about the assassin? No one in the FLC knows who he is, but his primary job is to eliminate any threat of exposure.”

  Jason’s body went rigid. His firearm was at his hip. Could he reach it in time if he needed it? Frank was armed, too. “Am I a threat?”

  Frank shrugged. “It’s something to consider. I don’t know if the assassin would consider you or Zoe a threat, or me, if I helped.”

  Jason glared at Frank. “Zoe’s a White House employee who has been abducted by a man known to have connections with terrorists and human trafficking. That’s all we have to tell authorities. And she was CIA.”

  Nodding, Frank raised his phone and started calling.

  “How did you get out?” a big man with dark hair and Middle Eastern accent asked Zoe.

  Two other men stood in the hallway. They didn’t have weapons. Perhaps the weapons were locked up and only the captain and supervisor had access. On the long trans-Atlantic voyages, lots of alcohol probably passed the time, so easy access to guns was not a good idea. The man turned to Alex. “Why didn’t you report her?”

  “Who is she? I thought she was a stowaway running from her boyfriend. Who hit her?”

  Zoe took that opportunity to slam her foot onto the big man’s instep, elbow his ribs, swing around and with the heel of her hand smash his nose. The sound of the crunch and his yells told her she had been on target. With the same momentum, she took out one guy’s kneecap, and as he went down, she chopped the other guy’s windpipe. With the three men gasping and screaming in pain, she ran. But where? How long would it take until Jason found her? Could she barricade herself inside somewhere? Would the name of the ship be enough?

  Running up the stairs to a higher level, she looked for a pipe or something she could use for a weapon. Sooner or later, the captain would get the guns out. She’d be captured unless she could hole up somewhere. She tried several metal doors, and they were either locked or led to larger areas. No place to run, no place to hide.

  Voices and footsteps
were close behind. As she charged through one doorway, a man grabbed her. She fought, using martial arts and crazed-woman punches and fingernails. The guy released her. As she started to turn around, someone slammed her between the shoulder blades, knocking the wind out of her and shoving her down a flight of stairs. As she tumbled, her elbows, knees and head banged all the way down. At the bottom, she was too stunned and in pain to move. She wasn’t sure if she’d broken anything.

  Someone stepped on her arm. It hurt, bad. The barrel of an AR-15 pressed against her temple. “You done?” Another man—stocky, dark, bearded—glared down at her.

  She nodded.

  “Get up,” he ordered. He got off her arm.

  She rolled to her knees and tried to stand. Her head spun, but thankfully, she didn’t think she had any—

  “Ahhh,” she cried out in pain and grabbed her left forearm. Already, the swelling had started, and discoloration had formed around her wrist.

  “Serves you right if you broke it,” he said. “Help her to the bridge. We may get company if her call got through.”

  “Alex, did she get a message through?” the stocky, bearded guy asked. Zoe suspected he was the captain by his authoritative tone and uniform.

  Alex glanced at Zoe. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I don’t know. The Internet can be slow, and you all were yelling.”

  “What did she tell you?” the captain asked, his patience long gone.

  “She was running away from a boyfriend and meeting friends. That’s it.”

  The captain stared at him for a while to decide if he was telling the truth. “Changing course won’t do any good. We can be tracked. We don’t have enough fuel, and we have deliveries.” He swore and rubbed his beard. “Expect company. I was given her transport papers if we ran into trouble. Kadir had a backup plan.”

  The medic on board gave Zoe something for the pain and immobilized her arm with a splint and bandage. She heard the captain comment that Kadir would be furious when he saw her condition. They gave her a blanket, pillow and some warm food. But they wouldn’t let her out of their sight. It was obvious that keeping her alive was important. They didn’t want to disappoint Kadir.

  Zoe dozed off, from exhaustion and probably from the pain meds. When she woke, it was dawn. The sky had an orange hue, and the sea looked dark and rough. Red in the morning, sailors take warning. After they fed her some oatmeal and coffee, she was feeling better, but the pain in her arm returned.

  “Captain, we have company,” the man at the helm said, looking through binoculars. “And it’s not the Coast Guard.” There were five men on the bridge, and they all had automatic weapons. She estimated there were about fifteen men on board. They were probably strategically posted throughout the ship.

  “It’s too fast for the Coast Guard. Who the hell is it?” the captain asked.

  “No, sir. It’s a Navy vessel. They signaled for us to stop engines and hold position.”

  The captain gave a grunt. “The Navy has no right to hold us up.”

  “Order from the Coast Guard, they said,” the crewman amended. “I think they have more firepower on that ship than we have in automatic weapons.”

  “Fuck. Hold position,” the captain said. He punched the chair he was standing behind. The Navy vessel approached and circled the freight ship like a giant, gray shark.

  Zoe felt the butterflies waking up in her gut. They’d found her.

  The distant sound of helicopter blades in the dawn stillness was a welcoming sound. She didn’t make eye contact with the freighter’s crew.

  “Coast Guard vessel off port bow,” the crewman with the binoculars announced. “And two helicopters.”

  “Take her below. Have the doc stay with her,” the captain ordered.

  “Captain,” Zoe said, trying to reason with him. “Think of your cargo and your men. Turn me over and face a few fines. Claim you weren’t aware I was trapped in one of those containers.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You were my cargo, my most valuable merchandise, and now you’re my hostage.” He turned to Alex. “Get her off the bridge.”

  As Alex led her out, she overheard the other crewman ask the captain, “Who the hell is she? You said someone’s spoiled daughter who ran away.”

  “Nevermind who she is,” the captain said. “I want the crew positioned around the ship. No one is getting on.”

  Alex had a firm grip on her right arm as he pulled her through the narrow passageways toward the infirmary, where the doctor had checked her arm, rewrapped it and given her an ice pack. Alex’s face was stern and confused. “You lied to me,” he spat out.

  “I didn’t know who I could trust.”

  He glanced at her suspiciously. “You could’ve told me.”

  “That I was abducted? For the white-slave trade or worse?”

  His jaw dropped, and he stopped walking. “Is that was this is? No lie?”

  “It’s more involved, but yes. It’s true. The Coast Guard will board this vessel, and crew members who resist will face criminal charges and jail.”

  He groaned and shook his head. “Man, I don’t want to do jail time. This is bad.”

  “Then help me. How can I get a weapon?”

  He looked up and down the passageway before speaking. “I have a gun in my cabin. We’re not supposed to, but I have one.”

  When they got to Alex’s cabin, the rat-tat-tat of automatic rifles sounded above them on deck. Then footsteps raced down the passageway by Alex’s room. More shots.

  “Stay here,” Zoe said as he handed her the small pistol.

  “No kidding. I’m not going out there.”

  “I’ll let them know you helped me.”

  She eased the door open a crack and peered out. The passage was empty for the moment. The silence made her more nervous. Blood pumped in her ears, and she could taste the adrenaline in her dry mouth. Stepping out into the hall, she ran for the stairway leading to the bridge. The only sound was two helicopters. A chill crept over her skin. Was everyone dead?

  When she came out on deck, she saw ten crew members kneeling on the ground, hands on their heads, and two armed Coast Guard officers standing over them. On the bridge, the captain and his first officer had their hands secured behind their backs as two other Coast Guard officers talked to them. Was it over? Did they have everyone?

  “Ms. Summers? I don’t think you’ll need that anymore.” The voice was so familiar, she thought her heart would burst wide open. She spun around to see Jason standing next to two helicopter crewmen wearing headgear.

  “Jason,” she barely breathed his name as she ran into his arms.

  “I’ll take that, ma’am. Just to be safe.” One of the officers gently took the pistol out of her hand.

  Jason held her back, kissed her quick, and tears dampened his cheeks. “Thank God.” He squeezed her close and kissed her hair. “I thought I lost you.”

  “How did you get on board with all the armed men on deck?” she asked.

  Jason and the Coast Guard guys laughed. One of the guys tilted his head. “Take a look behind you. We didn’t need the help, but a little persuasion made the job easier.”

  Zoe looked over her shoulder and gasped. The Navy vessel, a huge warship, was so close she could see the men smiling and waving on deck. All the giant cannons were pointing directly at Cape Sienna. “Whoa.”

  “As soon as the Navy moved in and started moving those guns around, the crew put their weapons down. Even though the Navy had no intention of firing, the crew didn’t have to be told twice.”

  “The Navy was bored and welcomed an excuse to play with their guns,” the officer said.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Hey, there’s a guy in his cabin, a kid named Alex. He helped me. That’s his gun. He had no idea about my abduction.”

  The officer nodded. “We’re going to take you back, ma’am. You injured your arm?”

  Jason lifted her left arm. “What happened?” He also touched her cheek and grimaced. “I ca
n imagine. What does the other guy look like?”

  “Pretty bad. He just lost his ship.”

  “Someone will take the ship into port where authorities will deal with it,” the Coast Guard officer said.

  Jason’s arm came around her shoulder, and she leaned against him as he walked her to the waiting helicopter. “I screwed up another mission, didn’t I?”

  He shushed her. “We know what Kadir did. We also found your hidden file. Good job.”

  Zoe breathed some relief. “His copy won’t be good after the third viewing.”

  “Virus? Good girl.” Jason smiled and pulled her closer.

  “But, Jason, he said he has Damien.” The sick feeling was back.

  “The authorities are working on that. And we know who the mole is. It’s Charlotte Ellison. She has been opposed to the FLC during her husband’s administration and was determined to shut it down.”

  “What are they going to do to her?” she asked.

  Jason shrugged. “They’ll watch her, closely now. She knows her life depends on keeping quiet.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Zoe glared at the nurse hanging another IV bag and adjusting the drip. She’d been in Georgetown University Hospital in Washington, DC, for three days and pretty much out of it between a fever and the medications they had her on. “Another one? When am I getting out of here?” Zoe complained.

  The middle-aged nurse gave her a calm smile. “You had a concussion, a fever and were dehydrated. The doctor wants to make sure you’re well before we send you home.” She raised an eyebrow at Jason. “She can have ice cream if you’d like to get her some from the cafeteria. The Rocky Road is excellent. No martinis.” She gave Jason a wink.

  “Funny.” Zoe wasn’t amused. Jason patted her arm.

  “Want me to bring you something from home? A book, your laptop, Sudoku puzzles?”

  She gave him the eye. “You’re lucky they have the IV in my swinging arm.” She groaned, then lowered her voice. “How did the meeting go with Julia? Are they going to use Kadir’s video? Have they heard anything new from him? What about Damien?”