A gal could learn a lot hanging around her. Maybe from Connor, too. Adam for sure. There was a bond there, a link. Shannon felt it as sure as a rope tying her to him, and it wasn’t just because he’d delivered her son. Her universe had changed since the moment she’d stepped foot inside The TEAM.
All at once, Izza’s head jerked up. Jamie’s and Braxton’s mother zeroed in on Shannon like a lightning bolt about to strike the only tree in sight, and oh, oh. Adam must’ve told her about Jimmy. A very passionate, hot-blooded woman now knew there was a newborn on the island, and she was on a mission, stomping straight to Shannon.
“Oh, my heck. He’s beautiful,” she half-growled, half-whispered when she sank to her knees where Shannon sat with her son. Izza’s dark eyes turned to melted chocolate fudge. “Aww, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Probably because Shannon wasn’t planning on delivering in the middle of the Pacific,” Adam teased. He still grinned like a Cheshire cat. “This trip is like Gilligan’s three-hour tour, remember?”
Even grumpy Connor’s scowl quickly turned to a smile. “Go boil some water, woman,” he urged his wife. “Wash your hands. You know you want to hold him.”
“Aww, I do.” Izza still knelt at Shannon’s side. Her eyes lit with fire as she leaned into admire Jimmy. “But you should’ve told me,” she scolded again. “Connor. Get one of my shirts out of my bag. He needs something softer than that old napkin for his first baby blanket.”
Connor returned with a soft blue T-shirt, which he promptly tore into halves. He knelt beside Shannon, his eyes glistening. “I put some water on to boil. Wow. He’s as small as our Jamie was when she was born. She was a preemie, too. Congrats,” he said huskily. “You’re sure full of surprises, Shannon, but this one’s the best.”
A hint of sadness colored his compliment, and the thought of two other little children waiting back home for the mommy and daddy they might never see again tempered Shannon’s joy. But she’d also noticed that he’d used her first name.
Izza leaned into her husband, her eyes full of tears. “We’re going to get home. I know we are. Don’t cry.”
He brushed the back of his hand over his eyes. “I’m not crying.”
“Well, I am,” Adam declared gruffly, swiping his face. “This little pipsqueak stole my heart the second he showed up.”
“What are you going to name him?” Izza asked.
“I’m still deciding.” Shannon wasn’t ready to share the name that meant the most. She glanced up at Adam, by now the only man standing. “Adam calls him Squeaks.”
Adam winked. That small, intimate connection filled her with desire. The tropical heat couldn’t stop the shiver that raced over her body. One glance, one wink and her heart took flight—to him.
“Hey there, Squeaks, my man. Oh, you’re so cute, I could eat you up.” Izza changed from a tough street fighter into a sappy mom.
“So what’d you guys find? What did you drag home?” Shannon asked finally, scrunching her nose. “A shark? A deer? You guys aren’t going to roast it for dinner, are you? It smells really bad.”
Adam shook his head in disgust. “Hell, no. It’s Ramsey.”
The look on Shannon’s face was priceless.
“Yes, Ramsey.” Adam answered her unspoken question. “Looks like he’s been dead for a day or two.”
“Then who killed Donavan?” She looked fearfully around their camp.
“We don’t know,” Connor added, “but we brought this jerk back for a decent burial anyway. We found another parachute and his skydiving gear, so we know for sure he was in the Gulfstream with us. It’s just possible that woman out there on the beach was his partner. Will you gals be okay while we dig a couple more graves?”
“We’ll be fine,” Izza said, without looking up. She’d made herself comfortable on the sand beside Shannon, cross-legged and obviously dying to hold that baby.
It was all Adam could do not to take Shannon in his arms and kiss her goodbye. The die was cast. This woman was in his heart to stay.
Connor bumped his arm, signaling time to go. Adam gathered their homemade digging implements. He and Connor left the women behind. They used a couple banana leaves in lieu of gloves to transfer the woman’s remains to the tarp alongside Ramsey’s.
“You found this by the body?” Adam asked, fingering the gray tarp. It looked damned familiar
“No, we found Ramsey already in it. It’s what you think it is. It’s got Reagan Industries stamped on the other side. Ramsey must’ve wrapped the pallet before he jumped and took it with him. That could explain the extra parachute.”
“So could she.” Adam dropped his eyes to the dead woman. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That this crash was a set-up? Been thinking it for days.”
“You don’t still think Shannon was in on it, do you?”
Connor grunted as they dragged their load toward the cemetery. “Nah. I was out of my head. That little lady couldn’t hurt a flea. Sorry I was a dick. I owe you one. Her, too.”
Adam let it go. He’d seen enough concussions and traumatic brain injuries come out of combat. Connor was lucky he hadn’t been hurt worse.
“At first, I thought Bell was in on it,” Adam admitted, “because he dumped the Gulfstream on a damned tiny island in the Pacific, but now I’m not sure. Maybe he was just lucky.”
“Pilots who fly the ocean often enough might know where to land in case of emergency. You saw the wreck. You know the difference between engine failure and sabotage. I doubt Bell would’ve rigged a bomb in the cabin.”
“No, that’s on Ramsey.” Adam dragged in silence, relieved that Connor offered sound logic instead of paranoia. He had no doubt Ramsey killed the crew, not after the cryptic ‘1X1’ mark he’d carved into poor Dillon. It was possible Donavan interrupted Ramsey, that they struggled. Ramsey lost his knife. Donavan gave chase. So who killed Ramsey? Better question, who had the damned drones?
After they arrived at the cemetery, Adam dropped his corner of the tarp to kneel at his friend’s grave. He smoothed a hand over the sand, wishing with all his heart for that elusive one more day with Donavan. “He saved our lives, Connor, but why didn’t he let us know where he was? If he’d come back to camp sooner, we could’ve saved him. Protected him.”
“You know Donavan. There must’ve been a good reason.” Connor nodded at the corpses. “It’d sure be good to know if she was stabbed or shot.”
“What difference would that make?”
“Then we might who she was working with—the jerk with the knife who killed the crew, or the guy with the gun who shot Donavan. It sure wasn’t Ramsey.”
“On a good day…”Adam glanced at the scattered wreckage, “I carried both. So did you. Knowing how she died doesn’t mean anything. We’ve still got a killer on the loose.”
“I know you’ve been a little busy with Shannon and the baby and all, but me and Izza found the cave.”
That was a surprise. “You did? Where?”
“On the other side of this rock. You could walk to it in thirty minutes if you took the long way around. Forty tops. And you were right. It’s a subterranean hole in the ground, maybe an eight-foot drop straight down through solid rock. Looks volcanic. Our fresh water streams run from there. Plenty of boot tracks in the mud around it, too.”
“You see anyone there?”
“Just Ramsey. Someone dragged him to the beach, probably thought the tide would take him out to sea.”
That raised Adam’s brows. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Because that new mama back there doesn’t need more stress.” Connor said the right words, but Adam caught the well-intended lie.
“And because she’s Paul Reagan’s daughter,” Adam said bluntly as he got to his feet. “You still don’t trust her, do you?”
Connor hemmed and hawed. “Actually, I do. Now. I don’t believe she’s directly responsible, but she’s involved somehow, maybe just because of her last name.
I do think her coming with us put a wrinkle in the plan. So where the hell are the Hummingbird Hawks? Why haven’t we seen them yet? If they’re so bad, Ramsey could’ve evaporated us in our sleep that first night. Why didn’t he?”
“Damn, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Adam smacked his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t think I haven’t been asking myself the same question. Either the drones are still hidden on this island with us, or—”
“Or they didn’t survive the drop,” Connor finished for him, “which changes everything. Why kill Donavan if there are no drones? Why kill anyone?”
“But he said they were here. He must’ve seen them.”
Connor looked upward, his brows lifted as stretched both hands over his head. “Crap. This mess is one damned big, ugly onion. You peel one layer, and what do you get?”
“Enough shit to make your eyes water,” Adam answered.
“You’re getting close to her, huh?”
Adam grunted at that shift in conversation. “Kinda hard to miss, isn’t it?”
Connor glanced at the graves. “Izza’s convinced Shannon walks on water, and I have to agree. She’s quite the woman. Come on. Let’s get this done.”
Adam wasn’t about to lay Ramsey next to Donavan, so he started digging on the other side of Dillon’s grave. After a few cans full of sand, that decision felt wrong, too. The poor boy deserved better company in the hereafter. Adam sat back on his legs. “I don’t want to bury this bastard here.”
Connor looked up from digging with a so-now-you-tell-me look in his eye. “Then where?”
Blowing out a deep sigh, Adam stared at the sea. The usual mountain of clouds piled high to the north promised another breathtaking sunset he had yet to appreciate. Maybe a thunderstorm by the dark looks of them. He glanced farther down the beach to a fallen palm, grayed with age and salt, its narrowed tip pointed straight into the surf. That tree would mark a definite wall between the decent and the indecent.
“There.” He pointed to where he meant. “Let’s bury them over there.”
Connor shrugged. “Fine. I don’t really care. Let’s just get them in the ground. They reek.”
In short order, they lugged the bodies to the other side of the palm tree and dug one extra-wide grave.
“I’m going to make some grave markers one of these days,” Connor said when the hole was deep enough. “You want to help?”
“What will we call this one? Madame X?” Adam nudged the dead woman’s foot. Mostly denuded of flesh, her skeletal leg rotated to the side and her foot fell off, the waterlogged boot with it. He intended to roll the leg into the grave with the rest of her, until a thin, black case fell out of the sole of her boot. He opened it to reveal ten one hundred dollar bills neatly folded alongside a cylindrical piece of metal. “Whoa. Check this out.”
“What the hell?” Connor’s jaw dropped. “An antenna?”
“And get-out-of-jail-free cash,” Adam said, referring to the money a covert operator carried behind enemy lines. Bribing the locals might work, or might not. It never hurt to be prepared.
His inner sniper sprang to life. Finding an antenna meant a radio. Maybe in the other boot. As carefully as possible, he pulled it clear of the slimy mess. Thankfully, that foot bone stayed connected to her leg bone.
“Gross,” Connor muttered.
Something rattled inside that sole, too. Pressing his palm to the slimy rubber Adam exerted pressure. The sole slid open. A cell phone dropped into his palm, only this was no ordinary cell phone. He lifted it to Connor. “Lookee here.
“Crap. Does it still work?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” This baby was a fully functional satellite communicator, waterproof, dustproof, and impact-resistant. Adam had used one before. It wasn’t meant for vocal conversation, only for sending emergency calls. Best yet, GPS coordinates pinged along with the SOS.
He texted Alex as fast as his fingers and thumbs could fly. Boss. Torrey. Mahers. Reagan. Request immediate pick-up. Get us the hell out of here!
The color screen gleamed bright and beautiful in his hand. He held his breath. The power of this thing was amazing. Even now, it should’ve been pinging a distress call to a satellite far above earth’s orbit. He hoped. A twenty-four-hour monitoring center should already be relaying the message to local responders while the text hit Alex’s phone in Virginia at the same time.
He really hoped. Alex was technically challenged, but he usually kept his phone on him. He’d goddamned better have it on him today.
The minutes stretched. Connor got antsy. “Here. Try it with the antennae.” He screwed the pencil-thin antennae into the top of the communicator. Just as he did, the handheld device vibrated and pinged an alert.
Alex had answered. Sit tight. On our way. ETA in twenty-four hours max. Casualties?
Adam sank to the sand, emotional beyond belief and so damned happy. The fact that he hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours didn’t help. He typed, ‘Donavan and flight crew dead. Mahers, Torrey, and Reagan good. Baby boy good, too.’
Alex’s response came quick. Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot? Baby boy?
Adam laughed at his boss’s military version of swearing. He could’ve bawled like a baby. Connor sank to the sand beside him. “Tell him we need real food, and a few weapons wouldn’t hurt.”
Need food. Weapons. Unknown enemy combatant on location. Killed Donavan. Bring the rain.
“Good job.” Connor thumped Adam’s shoulder. “That’ll get his attention.”
Alex answered back. Message received. Harley in transit soon. Watch the sky.
Copy that, Adam typed. Damned good to hear from you, Boss.
Another message came quickly. Hawaii. Tomorrow night. My treat.
The fact that Alex had just specified a specific time hit Adam hard. Their nightmare was almost over. He fumbled an answer. Copy that.
“We’re saved,” he told Connor, like Connor didn’t already know. “We’re going home!”
Chapter Nineteen
“When I get home, I’m taking a day long bubble bath,” Izza said coyly to Connor. “Want to join me?”
He still held her tight in his arms after spinning her around like a ragdoll when he and Adam had returned. Instead of answering, he kissed her long and hard. They’d turned into lovebirds. First Izza had screamed and cried. Then Connor. Then they’d cried together as if they were the only two on the whole island.
Shannon looked away. It was hard to watch. She wanted to hug Adam, but since he’d returned with that communicator device, he’d been sitting off by himself, playing with it. He didn’t seem as happy as the Mahers.
“Hey guys.” Adam interrupted their merry-making. “You need to see this.”
Shannon joined the huddle around him. Baby Jimmy was sound asleep. Izza had devised a sling that kept the baby pressed to Shannon’s body and at the perfect level for feeding. She’d also explained a lot about babies and nursing. A woman’s tutelage was so much easier to accept than a man’s. Still...
Shannon’s eyes went to the tense neck of that very helpful man now focused on the phone he’d found. The memory of his hand on her breast still tingled. He’d looked so genuinely distressed when he’d realized what he’d done. She wanted him to do it again.
Connor sat cross-legged next to Adam with Izza on his lap. Bright blue eyes smiled like there wasn’t anything Adam could say that would make him unhappy. Izza’s brown eyes smiled, too. Shannon took a position next to Connor and Izza. She would’ve preferred snuggling with Adam, but he seemed—busy.
They’d no more than settled to the ground when a steady buzzing sound caught Shannon’s attention.
“Shit, hold still!” Adam commanded, his gaze focused beyond her.
She froze. The sound came from more than one direction. Apprehension shivered up her back and over her shoulders. If those buzzing things were bees, they were really big bees. She clenched Jimmy to her chest.
Adam motioned with his palm for everyone to stay down. No one h
ad moved, anyway. She stopped breathing, watching his expression change from disbelief to fear to anger. His jaw clenched tight. Adam glanced at her and held her gaze. Shannon cringed, expecting the sting of a thousand killer bees at any moment. Covering Jimmy with both arms, she vowed she’d die before they touched him.
Closer. Closer. The buzzing turned to a mechanical hum. Her heart thudded to a dead stop. Oh, no. It’s drones. Not bees.
With a whisper, one hovered directly in front of her. The sleek titanium Hummingbird toggled its tailfins as it maintained an even keel, almost as if it looked at her. From her late-night crash course in UAVs, she recalled that most of the auditory and visual sensors and cameras were encapsulated in the black polycarbonate nose. The drone was, at that very moment, evaluating everything about her, from her height, weight, and body mass to her temperature, and if she was armed or not. And it was thinking. Planning what it needed to do next. Deciding if she should live or die.
“Easy,” Connor whispered at her side. “Take it real—”
The drone pivoted toward him and Izza. Shannon shuddered. A ripple of air on her bare shoulder made her cringe as another drone passed by. Everyone scrambled to their feet. Adam held up three fingers. Three drones. Terror shivered over her.
Where’s the fourth?
The second Hummingbird lowered into the same hovering position in front of Adam. A third came to rest in front of Shannon, while the first maintained surveillance on Connor and Izza.
We are going to die.
The harder her heart beat, the tighter she clutched Jimmy. Intense emotion flooded her heart. If this thing was studying her, then it was also studying her son.
Study this!
Shannon didn’t think. She just balled her fist and punched the snub nose of that snoopy, man-made piece of trash. It hurt. She winced, but she also caught Adam’s surprise. He winked, lending her courage. She covered Jimmy defiantly with her arm, ready to knock that thing out of the air if she had to.
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