Blake (Lighthouse Security Investigations Book 5)

by Maryann Jordan

  “Blake, I hate to be a pain, but would it be okay if I...um…”

  He looked over his shoulder and chuckled. “After all we’ve been through, you don’t have to be shy about telling me you need to go to the bathroom.” He watched her sunburned cheeks turn even redder, and he leaned down, offering his hand. “Just don’t go too far.”

  Shaking her head quickly, she promised, “Oh, I won’t!”

  A large tree was nearby, and he watched as she walked to the other side. A moment later, she hurried back, and he assisted her into the boat once again.

  “I’ll never take a toilet for granted again! With the Peace Corps, I’ve had to use some very rudimentary toilets before, but I’ve never had to use a tree root!”

  When she was settled, he decided he should do the same and disappeared for just a moment. Coming back, he untied the boat, and they floated out from under their green canopy of leaves, moving toward the center of the river. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting shadows on the river.

  They could see a few lights off to the right when they passed Apatou, but there were no other boats on the river at that time. Blake had been checking his phone, keeping track of Drew and Tate’s process through messaging.

  When the village was behind them, Sara turned around, facing him. “What’s next?”

  “At the speed we’re going, we’ll pass another tiny village, Sania, in about ten minutes. It will take about an hour and a half before we get off the river. There’s a road this side of St. Laurent du Maroni that leads to the airport. That’s where we’re going to be met.”

  Eyes wide, she could not keep the excitement out of her voice as she repeated, “We’re going to be met there? By your people?”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “Yeah, by my people. One of them is the pilot, and he’ll stay with the plane. The other one will have transportation and pick us up at our rendezvous.”

  The sound of a gunshot fired nearby caused Blake to whip around, his weapon raised. Sara dropped to the bottom of the boat and he concentrated on the edge of the river. Another shot was fired, and he spied a single man standing near a tree, a rifle in his arms. Blake returned fire and was not surprised to see that he hit his target when the man dropped face first to the ground, no longer moving. Goddamn Boutillier! How much is the reward that he’s put out for her?

  Thankful they had made it this far, he revved the engine, steering the boat away from the shore, praying that Tate and Drew would take care of anyone else that might be nearby. He felt something on his leg and looked down, seeing Sara’s hand barely touching him. “I got him, babe, but stay down for now.”

  She nodded but her hand tightened slightly, tethering them together. She looked up and even in the dark, with the barest hint of moonlight on her face, he could see her trust, and all he wanted to do was get her back home and keep her safe…preferably, with him.

  18

  “Is that an island?” Sara asked, her voice low as she stared at the land to the left of them.

  Blake was concentrating on maneuvering the pirogue to their point of rendezvous with Tate when he looked at what she was pointing to. “Yeah. It’s a tiny island that the French used to quarantine the prisoners when they came to the island in the 1800s. Believe it or not, I read where it’s used as a place to picnic now.”

  “Oh, my God…that’s crazy.” She paused and then said, “Although, I guess it could be looked at like making something good out of something bad.” Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. “Are we close?”

  “Yeah. Keep your attention focused on the right. That’s where we’ll be met.”

  After another moment, he brought the boat closer to the land and saw three quick flashes of light. Grinning, he cut the engine, and with a paddle, brought them to the edge of the river. From the shadows behind a tree stepped a solitary figure.

  Sara gasped, starting to scramble backward toward Blake. He quickly put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. He’s here for us.” Looking up, he watched as Tate stepped closer. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, man.” Tossing the end of the rope to him, he watched as Tate gently pulled them forward until the front of the boat rested on the shore.

  Making sure to get their few possessions out of the boat, he watched as Tate bent forward, his hands outstretched toward Sara. “Ms. Lancaster, I’m Tate. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  She reached up and allowed Tate to assist her from the boat, and Blake tamped down a strange jolt of jealousy at seeing his fellow Keeper place his arm around Sara’s waist as he steadied her up the embankment, helping her regain her land legs.

  Once they were on flat ground, Sara reached out and took Tate’s hand in her own, shaking it up and down. “Thank you so much for coming for us. And please, call me Sara.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Sara. It’s my pleasure.” Turning, he extended his hand toward Blake, and the two men pulled each other in for a man hug and back slaps.

  Tate waved his hand toward the distance. “Got a van right over here.”

  Instead of falling in line behind Tate, Sara waited to walk next to Blake, her hand resting on his arm. He looked down and linked his fingers with hers, pulling her in closely as they followed Tate to the van. He kept a vigil on their surroundings but could not deny the warmth he felt inside when she sought his touch.

  She stumbled in the dark, and he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly to his side. Once at the van, Tate opened the back door and leaned in, grabbing two bottles of water. Turning, he handed them to Sara and Blake.

  Expressing gratitude once more, they drank deeply, then climbed inside the van. Once secure, Tate started the engine and pulled onto the road. It only took a few minutes for them to turn onto another dirt road next to a sign that read Aéroport de Saint-Laurent-du-Maroni.

  Tate said, “Airport is tiny ass, which is good. Don’t know that they would normally let somebody fly out in the dark, but Drew has greased some palms.”

  Blake looked over and saw Sara’s wide-eyed expression, knowing there was fear hiding behind her quiet demeanor. He gave her hand a squeeze, and she jerked her gaze to him, giving a little nod.

  Tate pulled the van around a small building, then weaved between two sheds. Parking near a small airplane, Blake grinned as he saw Drew walking forward. Leaning toward Sara, he said, “Don’t worry. He might be a giant but is on our side.”

  Throwing open the door to the van, he stepped out and greeted Drew heartily. “Good to see you.” Turning, he held out his hand and assisted Sara out of the van, watching as she leaned her head way back to smile at the six-foot, seven-inch Drew. “Drew, I’d like you to meet Sara Lancaster.”

  Drew took her hand, smiling widely. “It’s a real pleasure, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Sara, and you have no idea how glad we are to see you.”

  Blake watched as her smile slipped, and she sucked in a ragged breath, unable to keep the tears at bay. Dropping her head into her hands, a sob ripped out, and he immediately pulled her into his arms. With one hand pressing into her back and the other cupping her head, he rocked her gently, whispering, “It’s okay, Sara. It’s okay. Just let it out, babe. We’re safe, we’re going to get out of here.”

  He looked over her head, seeing sympathy on Tate and Drew’s faces. Drew spoke softly, “Let’s get her on board and get out of here.”

  She swiped at her cheeks, brushing the tears away. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a terrible wuss—”

  All three men jumped in to assure her that they thought she was incredibly brave.

  Drew said, “Sara, I was just with a woman who was a former CIA special operator who found herself needing a little help. I can tell you, truthfully, you’re handling yourself just as well as she did.”

  Sniffling, she nodded a watery smile as Drew opened the door to the small plane. Blake assisted her in, then made sure she was buckled into her seat. He set his rucksack onto the floorboard near her feet.


  “Shit! Company!” Drew called out.

  Blake jerked around and saw three uniformed men approaching. Hearing Sara whimper, he squeezed her hand and whispered, “Stay quiet, Sara. Say nothing.”

  He knew Tate was on the other side of the airplane out of sight and would have no problem taking out all three policemen if necessary.

  “Arrêtez. Montrez votre identité,” one of the men called out.

  “Identification,” one of the other ones said haltingly.

  Blake knew that Drew was assessing which one he would take out if Tate were unable to get all three.

  Before they had a chance to respond, the men pulled guns from their waistbands, but they were no match for three Keepers. Gunfire rang out into the night, Blake taking a knee as he fired rapidly into the chest of the closest one, watching as he pitched forward face down onto the ground. Drew whipped his weapon from his holster and nailed the second one, dropping him where he stood.

  “Lookout!”

  Sara screamed, and Tate dropped to his knees behind the plane and quickly dispatched the third one, who had tried to sneak from the back of one of the sheds. Tate, a sharp-shooter, called out, “Thanks, Sara. Good eyes.”.

  Standing, the three Keepers moved quickly, weapons still up, checking to make sure the gunmen were dead. Looking down, Blake said, “This isn’t military nor police uniforms. My guess...Boutillier’s paid mercenaries. We need to get the fuck out of here before more come.”

  Suddenly, the crack of gunfire came from behind, and they whirled around, weapons trained on the plane. But all they saw was a fourth man lying on the ground, not moving.

  Looking at the open door of the plane, Blake’s stunned gaze landed on Sara, kneeling with one of his guns in her hand. Her chest was heaving, her eyes wide.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Drew cursed, and Blake knew his fellow Keepers were both shocked and impressed.

  “Goddamnit,” Tate bit out. “I never fuckin’ should have turned my back!”

  Racing over to the plane, Blake pulled the gun from her shaking hands. “Sara? It’s okay. They can’t hurt you.”

  “I...is he…”

  Blake glanced over his shoulder at Drew, who nodded. He turned back to her. “Don’t look, baby. It’s over.”

  Her still-wide eyes held his, and she shook her head slightly. “I didn’t mean to...it’s just…he was coming from the side. In the dark. I…”

  “Sweetheart, you did the only thing you could. We’re just pissed that you saw him first...that should have been us.”

  She nodded, her head jerking up and down rapidly.

  “Shit!” Drew cursed again. “More!”

  Blake whipped around, determined to protect Sara, and saw several more men in uniforms approach slowly. One of the men had his arm in a sling, his free hand lifted with no weapon in sight. “Don’t fire!” he called out to Drew and Tate.

  “Non, ce ne sont pas ceux que je recherchent,” the injured man called out. The other policemen dropped their weapons. With a few quick words, they turned and moved back. The single man continued forward until he was no longer in shadow, standing under one of the few lights at the airport.

  “François!” Blake exclaimed, jumping down from the wing of the plane and moving to his friend. “How is your arm?”

  François held up his arm, the edge of a bandage showing from his wrist going up under the sleeve of his uniform. “I was lucky.”

  Blake walked him toward the plane and introduced him to Drew and Tate. “François was helping me. He was going into Boutillier’s with me to get Sara but had an unfortunate run-in with a viper.”

  After Drew and Tate greeted the young policeman, Blake turned to see Sara peering out of the airplane window. He ran back to her and assisted her from the plane, keeping her tucked into his side.

  “Thank you so much for everything you’re doing for me,” she said, holding François’ injured hand delicately in her own.

  “I am only sorry that your visit to my country turned out to be such a harrowing experience. If you ever decide to come back, please let me know. It will be my greatest pleasure to have you stay with my family.” François looked from Sara to the others and added, “That invitation extends to all of you.” He looked over his shoulder toward the departing policemen. “I will take my leave. Strange, but I’m supposed to be looking for two fugitives. One, a beautiful woman with red hair. Hmmm, I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone like that. Instead, I have found four dead members of a drug cartel. They must have turned on each other and all been killed. It is my lucky night.” With a wink and a slight bow, he turned and headed back into the dark shadows of the airport building.

  With his arm tightly around Sara, Blake looked at Drew. “Let’s get the fuck outta here!”

  “You’ve got that right,” Drew said, starting the plane’s engines. Within a moment, they taxied to the end of the runway and prepared for takeoff.

  “How can he see?” Sara leaned toward Blake while her gaze was on the front windshield. “There are very few lights.”

  “Drew’s the best,” he assured, squeezing her hand.

  Sure enough, in another moment, they were airborne, and Sara let out an audible sigh of relief.

  “What I want to know is where you learned to shoot like that.” Tate looked back at Sara, an expression of admiration on his face.

  “We were stationed in a small village in Peru for a while when I was a teenager. An old farmer would take me out hunting. He said everyone should know how to hunt for food.”

  The Keepers chuckled, and Blake tried to keep his mind from what could have happened if she had not quickly thought to get into his rucksack and pull out the extra weapon...and known how to use it.

  He watched as she leaned away from him and peered out the window. Normally one to let someone have their own private thoughts, he found himself wanting to know what was running through her mind. “What are you thinking, babe?”

  Barely whispering, she said, “French Guiana was developed as a slave society in the 1600s. Even when slavery was abolished, it became a penal colony.” Her voice broke as she continued, “If it weren’t for you, it would have become my prison.”

  Unheeding of the plane still gaining altitude, Blake leaned over, unbuckled her safety belt, and pulled her into his lap. Tucking her in tightly, she curled up on him, her head resting on his shoulder as their arms banded around each other. He watched as Tate turned and glanced at him, then shared a look with Drew. He did not worry about what his fellow Keepers thought. He knew they trusted him to take care of the mission. And as far as he was concerned, Sara was still his mission.

  Sara woke with a start, stunned that she had been able to sleep. She immediately jumped. “Oh, my goodness. I’m sorry. I probably cut off the circulation to your legs!”

  Blake chuckled. “Babe, you don’t weigh enough to do that.”

  Even though she loved being held by him, she felt embarrassed in front of Drew and Tate. Climbing out of his lap, she moved back over to her seat and buckled in. It was still dark outside, and she wondered where they were going and how long it would take to get there but hated to ask.

  As though he knew what she was thinking, Blake said, “We’re heading to Aruba. We’re going to land there, refuel, and get something to eat.”

  She thought about that plan for a moment and then turned toward him. “Blake, I don’t have my passport anymore.”

  Before he had a chance to reply, Tate turned around and grinned. “Don’t worry about it. We come prepared.” He reached inside a bag setting between him and Drew and pulled out two passports, handing them to Blake.

  Blake grinned and showed them to Sara. One was a spare for him, and one was for her. Eyes wide, she gasped. “How on earth did you get this?”

  Blake winked. “There is very little that Lighthouse Security can’t take care of.”

  It took several more hours, but they finally landed in Aruba just as daylight was beginning to streak through the sky. The azu
re water below glistened like a jewel, and the airport was right next to the ocean. As soon as Drew touched down, she released an audible sigh of relief, and Blake squeezed her hand.

  Drew taxied to the private airport, where they alighted and moved through customs. While he arranged for refueling, Blake linked fingers with Sara and escorted her to the brightly-lit hallway, nudging her toward the ladies' room.

  Grateful for indoor plumbing, she took care of her business, then stood at the sink and stared into the mirror for a moment. You killed a man. Exhaustion pulled at the very core of her being, but she pushed her thoughts down. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, she wet them and wiped her face, pressing the cool against the burn on her cheeks. She had pulled the scarf off her head once they were in the air and longed to have a brush for her hair.

  Not wanting Blake to wait any longer, she hurried out into the hall, seeing he, Tate, and Drew deep in conversation. Suddenly unsure, she hesitated. Blake looked up, his eyes met hers, and his lips curved into a wide smile. Lifting his hand toward her, she hurried forward. Tate and Drew shifted easily to give room for her in their circle. Blake’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he pulled her in so that her head once again rested on his chest.

  She twisted her head so that she could look into his eyes. “What’s up?”

  “There are several restaurants here, and our plan was to get something to eat and then leave as soon as we’ve done so. We’re just wondering if you need a break before we get back on the plane and get to Florida.”

  Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “What kind of break?”

  “Like finding a hotel close by so that you can sleep in a bed and get more rest.”

  Giving an emphatic shake of her head, she said, “No!” She looked up at Drew. “Unless you need to. You’re the one who’s flying, so we need to do whatever is best for you. This isn’t about me.”

  The three men shared grins, and her gaze shot from one to the other. “What?”

  Blake’s hand rubbed up and down her arm as he continued to hold her close. “Yeah, Sara, it is about you.”