Blake (Lighthouse Security Investigations Book 5)

by Maryann Jordan

  As soon as her feet touched the ground, she wanted to squeal in delight and throw her arms around him, but he had other plans. Grasping her hand, they raced across the small clearing and into the shadows of the trees nearby.

  Terrified and yet equally elated, the events of the last half-hour had played out so quickly her mind was still attempting to catch up to her body. She had no idea where they were going or how they were going to get out, but with Blake holding her hand, she felt the first sense of hope since standing in the shop of the hotel watching the armed thieves come in.

  13

  Blake pressed his back against one of the trees, drawing Sara’s trembling body against his, his arms wrapping around her. Confused emotions raced through him, something he had never experienced before. He had undertaken missions as a Delta, rescuing captured military personnel, always focused, knowing who he was rescuing would understand what was expected of them. As a CIA Operative, he had completed missions where he was rescuing civilians, but maintaining his professionalism and emotional distance had never been a problem.

  This time, he had to force his mind to focus on the mission, not the fear in her eyes, the quivering of her body, or her interference when he would have taken Milo out permanently if necessary.

  He had to admit she had followed every direction he had given so far. She leaned her head back and looked up at him, a wide smile on her face. Keeping her voice low, she whispered, “We did it!”

  He understood her elation, but they had a long way to go. She was out of the villa, and out of the compound, but they were still deep in the Amazonian rainforest in the middle of nowhere.

  Sliding his night-vision goggles back onto his face, he gave her a squeeze then let her go. Whispering, “Stay with me,” he turned and led her through the trees and underbrush that he had come through earlier.

  A noise from the side had him whirl around, shoving Sara to the ground behind him as he raised his gun. One of the guards had dropped to the ground outside the wall, squinting toward the jungle, his rifle in his hands as he peered around in the dark.

  With no hesitation, Blake fired his weapon, the silencer muffling the sound. The man dropped to the ground, sprawling onto the grass. Blake moved forward, his weapon still raised, assuring the man was dead. Dragging him into the edge of the woods, he hid the body from the sight of anyone who would be walking on the wall.

  Turning, he saw Sara still partially lying on the ground where he had pushed her, her eyes wide and mouth dropped open as she stared back at him. Fuck! He had not had time to prepare her for what they might be facing.

  He reached down, pulled her to her feet and said, “We’ve got to go. I don’t know when he’ll be missed, but we’ve got to get out of here.”

  She nodded her head, breath leaving her body in a rush, and he bent so that he was closer, wishing he had time to take the goggles off so that he could really get close to her face and let her see him. “Sara...I had no choice…”

  Her gaze left the man lying on the ground and came back to Blake. “I know. I get it…him or us. It’s fine. Let’s go.”

  Glad she was recovering from her shock so quickly, he turned and said, “Stay close.”

  He had no idea when she might be missed but wanted to be well on their way by the time someone found Milo, the watchman, or the guard. He hurried them along, heading toward the river, but her shoes were a hindrance. He had not passed a house on the way from the river to the compound, therefore taking away a chance of stealing a pair of shoes for her on their way back to the river that would be better for their getaway. Deciding that they could get something at one of the villages once they got on the water, he forged ahead.

  It had taken him less than thirty minutes to get from the boat to the compound, but with Sara in tow, it was taking much longer. The ground was rough and the terrain thick with underbrush. Tree roots snagged their every footstep. With the rainforest canopy overhead that kept the moonlight at bay, they were forced to go slow. He knew that she was not able to see anything, barely holding onto the back of his shirt as she stumbled along.

  Several times she emitted a muffled cry as she tripped, her fingers clutching the back of him the only thing keeping her upright. Several times she went down on her knees but immediately scrambled back up and kept going.

  Some tree roots were sticking out of the ground at such heights that they had to scale them, moving around the large trunks, pushing the vines and weeping limbs out of their way. Now that they were farther away from the compound, he used a short machete to make their pathway only slightly easier to traverse.

  Looking over his shoulder, he could see her chest heave as she gasped in the humid night air. She had not uttered a word of complaint, but he knew her feet must be causing her great pain. Stopping, he reached inside one of his cargo pockets and pulled out a small flask of water. “Here, drink,” he ordered gently.

  Her fingers shook as she took it from him, her expression one of gratefulness. She sipped the water, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before giving it back to him. Still panting, she asked, “How much further do we have to go?”

  “We should come to the river in about ten minutes. I have a boat there.”

  Her eyes snapped open wide. “A boat?”

  “The little airport here has few lights at night and don’t run flights, even if I had someone who can get us out. As soon they discover you’re missing, they’ll immediately start searching the roads. We’ll make the best time on the water. We should be well away by the time they look for you in the morning.”

  She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, and he expected more questions. She finally gave a short nod. Pleased with her acquiescence and obvious trust, he said, “Let’s go.” Soon, the sounds of water could be heard, and he looked over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

  He heard her breathe the words, “Thank God,” and he grinned to himself, impressed with her tenacity.

  Suddenly, the forest fell away, and they were at the edge of the Lawa river. They had come out of the jungle just south of where he had left the boat. The river’s edge was too sharp and rocky for them to be able to walk right next to the water, so they moved several feet into the forest again, heading north. At least the moonlight was able to provide some illumination, making their walk easier. Five minutes later, they came upon his boat.

  Turning to Sara, he jerked off his goggles, grasped her arms, and bent so that he could look into her face. “You’re fuckin’ amazing! We’ve made it this far, babe, and I’m going to get you outta here.” Her lips curved, and he felt her smile shoot straight to his heart. “I’m going to check the boat before we hit the water. You sit here and rest.”

  Her gaze moved to the side where the boat was sitting on the rocks and she shook her head. “No, let me help. Just tell me what to do.”

  “It’s already packed, Sara. I just need to double-check everything.”

  She nodded, and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead. Letting her arms go, he turned and climbed down the bank to the boat. The front half had been pulled up onto the rocks of the edge of the river, and he checked to make sure their supplies were still intact and no one had compromised the boat.

  Satisfied, he turned and smiled up at her, lifting his arm. She reached down and clasped his outstretched hand, and he guided her over the rocks to the edge of the boat. “Climb in and sit near the front.”

  He waited until she had followed his instructions, then untied the boat from the nearest tree and gave it a push into the water. Climbing over the side, he settled near the back and started the motor. Guiding them out into the middle of the river, he headed north. The moonlight cast its glow over the water, but he pulled out his phone, looking down at the guidance system that Josh had sent to him. Using that, he navigated up the river.

  “Talk to me.” Blake was on the phone to Mace, wanting an update. The sun was beginning to break the sky, and he knew that Sara’s escape would be discovered soon if it
had not already done so.

  She turned around and looked over her shoulder at him, her gaze alert and penetrating while the dark circles underneath her eyes gave away her fatigue. He was stunned at what a trooper she was, not complaining nor prattling on so that he would have to constantly shush her. She was a quiet traveler, giving him the time and headspace to focus on navigating the boat in the dark.

  “You’re getting closer to Grand Santi,” Josh said, having Blake on speaker with the other Keepers. “We’ve got your location pinpointed from your tracer.”

  “Fucking hell…if I’d come here prepared, I’d have a temporary tracer for her, as well.”

  “Can’t worry about that now,” Mace warned.

  He knew his boss was right, but it still galled him that he came for a basic security detail not prepared for a rescue mission. Looking up at Sara’s wide-eyed stare, he locked his emotions down. “What else do you have for me, Josh?”

  “The part of the river you’ve been on had narrowed when tributaries split, and you stayed to the right, closer to French Guiana. You’re soon going to come to where the tributaries reunite, and you’ll be right at the edge of Grand Santi. That’s the good news.”

  “I’m assuming, then, there’s bad news.”

  “You’re going to get to Grand Santi before Drew and Tate can fly there. There was a small storm that held them up. The new plan is for them to fly into St. Laurent du Maroni. That’s going to be another hundred miles on the river.”

  “Fuck. I was hoping to be able to ditch the boat and get us out of here quicker.”

  “So far, there’s no chatter about her. I assume that as soon as she is discovered missing, Boutillier will start his connections to try to find where she is,” Josh continued. “I’ll let you know as soon as we hear something.”

  “Are you going to be able to work this, or do we need to reconfigure the mission?” Mace asked.

  “I’m going to need to refuel,” he said. “I’d like to avoid any of the main docks in Grand Santi, so I’ll stop soon at the first one I come to. I’ll refuel and get some extra that we can carry with us.”

  “Blake, it’s Cobb. I’ve looked at the river, and I think you’ll still make good time staying on the river. Keep the craft close to the edge so that you’ll have a sense of where the land is at night, but not too close so that the motor doesn’t drag on the bottom. The area is not populated except for the villages, so you can move at a decent speed. There will be some rapids and a few small falls, but they don’t look dangerous. Keep the nose of the boat pointing forward over them, and you should be fine.”

  Mace added, “Josh is monitoring you from here, but stay in contact. As soon as we hear from Drew, we’ll let you know where he is.”

  He confirmed and signed off, settling his gaze on Sara sitting in front of him. As the sunlight began peeking over the trees on the edge of the river, her red hair glistened. She twisted around and looked over her shoulder at him again.

  “We need to stop for gasoline?” she asked.

  “As soon as we see a dock with some boats, we’ll stop,” he confirmed. “It’ll also give you a chance to go to the bathroom.”

  She bit her lip, but he could see the relief on her face. He had offered her some of the food when they got into the boat, but she declined. He insisted that she drink more water, glad when she acquiesced.

  “We won’t stop at a main dock. I’d rather people not see us.”

  With her voice laced with concern, she asked, “Do you think people will be looking for us?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know how far Boutillier’s reach is. I do know he’s going to have contacts all the way to Cayenne, where he’s used to sending his drugs. Chances are he uses the river as well as the roads and the airlines. We’ve got to be prepared for anything.”

  Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. “Who is he? How does he have so much power?”

  “He’s a known drug lord in the area. He essentially operates as a transit for drugs going from other countries in South America to Europe by way of French Guiana.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but no words came forth.

  “Sara,” he called out, gaining her attention again. “He’s not going to get his hands on you again.”

  “That man...the one who was coming after us…”

  His heart squeezed, but he powered through. “I hate like hell you had to see me kill him, but Sara, if he set off an alarm—"

  “No, no,” she rushed, shaking her head back and forth quickly, her gaze seeking his. “I mean it was surreal...all of this is surreal. But I get it. It was him or us, and you chose us. I’ve got no problem with that, Blake.”

  He battled the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her but knew it was not the time or place. Instead, he simply offered assurances. “I only use the force necessary to accomplish what has to be done.”

  He held her gaze, and his breathing was easier as she nodded, breathed deeply, and turned back around to see where they were going.

  He barely finished speaking when he saw a small dock ahead and steered the boat to the side. Many of the people who used the native pirogue boats did not have motors with them but instead used paddles. As luck would have it, he saw several small boats with motors, indicating that there would be gasoline nearby. Since they were on the furthest outskirts of the town, there were several houses in the distance, not close together.

  “When we stop, I’ll tie off the boat. You run to those trees over there and take care of your business.” He hoped that she would not object to having to use the bathroom outdoors with only the cover of the trees for privacy. Her only response was to nod, and once more he silently cheered her acquiescence. “I’ll stay here to make sure you’re okay. Once you’re back, I’ll get some fuel.”

  She nodded, and he cut the motor, allowing the boat to glide to the small dock, in between several other boats of similar size and color. Tying it off, he shifted forward and stood, holding his hand out to her. She reached up without hesitation, and he assisted her to stand. He cast his gaze from her red hair down to her blue shirt and continued to her swollen ankles. Shit.

  Giving her a boost up, she managed to crawl onto the wooden dock, and he watched as she tiptoe-ran as quietly as she could down the dock to the closest set of trees. She pushed beyond the underbrush until he could no longer see her and hoped it would not take her long to take care of her business.

  Receiving a call, he answered. “What have you got?”

  Josh did not waste time. “Chatter has begun. Boutillier has sent out a call looking for an escaped servant that owes him money. There’s a reward offered.”

  “Fuckin’ hell, that didn’t take long.”

  “Probably had someone check on her early.”

  “Okay…plans are the same,” he said, his gaze searching the tree where Sara disappeared, breathing easier when came into sight and ran to the edge of the river, squatting while she dipped her hands into the water and washed them off.

  She hurried back down the dock and sat on the edge with her feet dangling over the side. With his hands wrapped around her waist, he easily lifted her back down into the boat.

  “People are just starting to wake up, so I need to hurry. Stay here and stay quiet.”

  Gaining her nod, he hefted himself up onto the dock and hurried toward the first building. At the side, he found several gas cans. Bending, he unscrewed the front caps and sniffed. Grateful they were filled with gasoline, he set them to the side. Behind the first house, he saw a clothesline. With a quick glance around to assure that no one from the house was stirring, he ran to the clothing, pulling down a white scarf and a peasant blouse.

  As he turned, he looked toward the back door of the house and saw several pairs of shoes. Grabbing a pair of canvas sneakers that looked close to the right size, he hurried over to the gas cans and carried all of his booty back to the boat.

  Tossing the clothes and shoes to her, he climbed down into the boat and lifted the ga
s cans. Filling the motor, he tightly screwed the top back on and set the two cans on the floor of the boat.

  Sara was holding the white square of material, her nose scrunched. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  He pointed toward her hair. “Tie it like a scarf around your head. Love your hair, but it’s a giveaway to your identity, so we want to cover it up in case someone happens to be looking on the river for someone matching your description.” Jerking his head toward the peasant blouse, he said, “Pull that on over your tank top. It’ll be less conspicuous than the blue.”

  Eyes bright, she nodded and quickly discarded her blue blouse and pulled the white peasant blouse over her head, settling it on top of her white tank top. Folding the square of material into a triangle, she tied it around her head, covering most of her red braid.

  Holding up the tennis shoes, she lifted an eyebrow and grinned. “Thank you!”

  Grinning his response, he started the motor, and they pulled away from the dock, guiding the boat toward the middle of the river.

  14

  Sara, excited to be rescued, tried to ignore the fear that still tugged at her. Her gaze continually moved to the shore, almost expecting someone to pop out after them. She sat facing forward in the boat as they bounced through the water. She could have turned around and faced Blake but did not want him to see the anxiety coursing through her body. The water was no longer smooth but rough, and she felt sure they were going to split in two on the rocks that occasionally jutted above the surface of the river. She clung to the sides of the boat, her jaw tight from clenching her teeth, both in fear and in an attempt to keep her teeth from rattling.