When the kidnapper resumed his shouting, Wyatt crept along the wall to the senator and pressed his fingers against the man’s throat. The pulse was slow but steady. Yanking his knife out of the holder, he cut through the rope binding the man’s legs and hands, then slid him off the table so he lay on the long bench. If shooting erupted before they could extract him, the table and the back of the settee would offer some protection.
“Senator is on the settee.”
“Angel’s ready for pickup,” the master chief said.
Wyatt peered around the bench toward the bow. The bastard had Claire shoved up against a wall with a gun pressed into her side. A killing rage roared through Wyatt until red colored his vision.
“Easy, Boomer. We can hear you breathing over the comm.”
Fuck! Emotion led to errors. Wyatt closed his lids for a moment to center himself. After wiping his sweaty palms on the seat cushion, he assessed the situation. Wingman wouldn’t be able to take a shot with Claire pinned between the tango and the wall. There was only one thing left to do: distraction.
Acting on instinct, Wyatt pulled down the top of his suit and wrapped the sleeves around his waist. The team often joked about what they looked like when they did this. He tightened his grip on the KA-BAR while holding it tightly against his wrist. Then, careful to keep his finless feet hidden, he rose from behind the settee. Arms out, thighs squeezed tight to look like a fish tail, he let out a long mournful whistle. He was faintly aware of Mason entering the cabin.
The blond man grabbed Claire by the shirt and tugged her against his chest, the gun to her head. The air left Wyatt’s lungs in a slow hiss. His vision narrowed, tunneled, filled with the sight of the gun pressed against Claire’s delicate temple.
The fucker was dead; he just didn’t know it yet.
Hope flashed in Claire’s beautiful blue eyes and Wyatt determined to do anything not to let her down again. Ignoring for the moment the bruises, cuts, and blood covering her soft skin, he focused on the tango and played to the myth. “You have a great boat, sir. I can grant you an even better one though. You can have anything you wish.”
The man’s eyebrows kissed his hairline. He shook his head as though to clear his vision. “What the fuck are you?”
Wyatt forced a grin. “I’m a MERman.” Not quite a lie, but not the literal truth either.
“Jesus Christ. That skank waitress must have slipped something into my food.” The tango shook Claire’s shoulder. “Do you see him?”
Wyatt gave an imperceptible shake of his head.
Claire shrugged. “All I see is an idiot with a gun pointed at me.” That’s my girl. Wyatt’s heart warmed. She was quite a woman.
“No way.” The blond blinked and rubbed his eyes with the back of his gun hand.
Seizing the opportunity, Wyatt threw the KA-BAR at the assailant’s chest, then leapt at Claire, knocking her out of the man’s grip. Wyatt and Claire dropped to the floor. At the last second, he twisted so that he bore the brunt of the fall. Then he rolled over to shield her with his bigger body and glanced over his shoulder to reassess the situation. The tango was down.
He’d done it. Claire was safe.
“No! Wyatt. Oh, God.” She struggled to get out from under him.
He sat up and quickly sliced through the rope at Claire’s hands and feet as Mason slid the senator off the settee. “It’s okay, sweetheart. He can’t hurt you now.”
The man’s hysterical laughter filled the cabin. Something was wrong. Wyatt glared at him. “What’s so fucking funny?”
Claire gripped Wyatt’s arm. “He told me the boat is rigged to explode if he dies.”
“What?” Wyatt scrambled off Claire and crawled over to the man, who lay sprawled on his back, a red stain spreading over the front of his shirt from where the hilt of the KA-BAR protruded.
“Go ahead, finish me off.” A fanatical light glittered in the man’s eyes, and the grin on his face made Wyatt’s skin crawl.
Claire appeared with a towel in her hand. She pressed it around the blade. “We need to keep him from bleeding out.”
Needing to communicate with his team, Wyatt jammed his arms into his wetsuit and pulled the hood back up. “Master Chief, tango says the boat is rigged.”
Before he’d finished speaking, the glass in the porthole shattered and the barrel of Wingman’s rifle appeared, trained on the downed man’s head. The master chief flew down the stairs, followed by several other members of the team.
“Reaper, cut the engines,” Romero said.
Reaper’s voice came over the comm. “Ah Houston, we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“Engine’s rigged with explosives. There’s some sort of remote sensor, but I don’t know what it’s connected to.”
“Goddamn.” The master chief knelt beside Claire and brought his face next to the tango’s. “How did you rig the engine? Tell us, and maybe you’ll live.”
More maniacal laughter. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Kill me. Then it will be done.”
Tears flooded the man’s eyes. His plans were suddenly all too clear to Wyatt. He wanted to die. “Shit! Check his body for a sensor or a trigger or something.”
Romero brushed Claire’s hands away and ripped open the man’s shirt. A sensor was taped to the left side of his chest. He traced it with his fingers.
Recognizing the device, the blood in Wyatt’s veins turned glacial. “No! Don’t touch it,” he shouted. “It’s a heartbeat trigger. If he dies or if we remove it, the bomb will go off.”
Immediately, the master chief raised his hands and Claire reapplied pressure to the knife wound. The tango turned his head to the side, his shoulders shaking as his sobs filled the small space.
“What happens if we take him off the boat?” Romero asked, his voice rougher than usual.
“Boom,” Wyatt said. “As soon as the sensor gets out of range, the heartbeat won’t be transmitted to the IED and it will be triggered.”
Shamu, the team’s corpsman, jumped into the cabin. He shrugged off his backpack and pulled out a medical kit. Kneeling beside Wyatt, he asked, “So what do we got here?”
“It doesn’t look like the blade hit a lung.” Claire raised the towel to show him the wound. Wyatt’s stomach clenched and sweat beaded on his forehead. How the hell was he going to get Claire out safe? And his team, had he put them all in danger?
Shamu nodded and slipped on a pair of latex gloves. “No frothy blood, no sucking sounds, no blood in his mouth.” He pulled out some gauze and cleaned the wound. “Exhale,” he ordered the tango after having packed the area around the blade with clean gauze. When the tango ignored the command, Romero pressed on his chest, making him gasp.
“Thanks, Master Chief.” Shamu spread the plastic wrapper to form a seal over the wound, knife and all.
Wingman dropped into the cabin with barely a sound, certainly none humanly detectable. “So, we leave him on the boat?”
“No,” Claire said, her voice surprisingly strong. “This man isn’t a killer. He needs treatment.”
None of them liked the idea of leaving the man on the boat to die, but… Wyatt went to her side and took her hand in his. “Claire, honey. He almost blew up the aquarium with all those people in it, and he intended to kill you and your father.”
“I know, but he’s already lost so much. He’s a diver for some platform construction company. Or he was, until the offshore-drilling industry began to implode a few years ago. I’d never considered the human side of the equation, and I’m certain my father never did either. Congress and the Senate could have done much more to help people like him.”
Romero pinched the bridge of his nose. “Boomer, what’s the range on this device?”
Hearing Wyatt’s call name, Claire arched a brow. Wyatt gave her a half-grin. “I wasn’t too successful with defusing my first IED.” When she glanced toward the kidnapper, he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m a lot better at it now.”
&nb
sp; “Thank Christ,” Kasper said as he seemed to materialize out of the air.
Wyatt squeezed Claire’s hand before answering the master chief’s question. “It could be anywhere from the length of the boat to a hundred yards.”
“There’s enough juice in this IED to have at least a hundred-yard radius,” Reaper said, and Wyatt was very glad Claire couldn’t hear him.
“Here’s the plan. Chain, move the MAKO out a hundred yards,” Romero said, addressing their teammate who’d stayed with their new Mark V Special Operations craft. “Boomer, you take Dr. Montgomery, and Angel, you take the senator. I’ll take the tango. The rest of you, get to the MAKO now. Make sure everything’s ready to go as soon as we board. We want to be far away when this thing blows.”
Wyatt cradled Claire against his chest, and explained the plan to her. “You don’t mind a little mouth-to-mouth, do you?”
She smiled and pressed her lips to his. “Not with you.”
Mason picked up her father.
“How is he?” she asked Shamu, who hovered beside the duo. Her voice was hoarse and strained, and Wyatt marveled at how incredibly brave she was. He hugged her closer, rubbing her arms to warm her cold skin.
The big man glanced back. “Unconscious, but his pulse is strong.”
The master chief tied the tango’s hands and feet with zip ties. “The docs are waiting for us back at the base.”
Claire stiffened against him. Wyatt whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry. He’s talking about the doctors at Naval Hospital Oak Harbor.”
Wyatt picked Claire up. Mason came up next to him, gently cradling the senator, and in that moment, Wyatt was glad to have his best friend by his side. Mason might not be as fast a swimmer as Wyatt, but there was no one else he’d prefer to have guarding his six, or the senator. He hoped to call the man his father-in-law someday.
Claire traced her fingers along Wyatt’s lips. “I knew you’d come. I never doubted it even for a minute.”
Her smile, the confident light in her eyes, stirred something deep in his gut. He wanted to see her smile for him every day. There’d never be anyone else for him. Claire was it. She was the one.
Chapter 7
The next few minutes passed so quickly, Claire barely knew what was happening. Wyatt and the men he called Master Chief and Angel carried her, her father, and the kidnapper to the deck. They sat on the edge of the cruiser while the others attached dolphin-tail shaped fins to their feet. She’d never seen anything like them, but they helped explain part of Wyatt’s extraordinary speed.
Romero hitched his burden higher against his chest. “You two go first. I’ll follow in sixty seconds.”
“But Master Chief—” Wyatt started.
“That’s an order, Boomer.”
“Aye, aye, Master Chief.”
Wyatt and Angel counted to three, then slipped into the water. Claire held her breath, but she needn’t have. As soon as the water slipped over their heads, Wyatt sealed their lips together and breathed into her mouth. She pressed against him and clung to his shoulders, hoping to streamline their bodies. These men, Wyatt’s team, were extraordinary. Each and every one of them was risking his life to save her, her father, and their poor confused kidnapper. Maybe she shouldn’t have argued when Wyatt’s teammate had suggested leaving the man on the boat while they got away.
Wyatt squeezed her waist, and she focused on him. Staring into his eyes, she saw the love in them. Saw the love Wyatt had for her. She’d been so unfair, judging him on his age and his job.
These men, who’d seen unspeakable atrocities, who’d literally given up their lives to protect their country, were heroes, and they deserved far better than what had been done to them by their own government. Wyatt deserved far better than how she’d treated him over the years. He was far more mature and much wiser than she’d given him credit for. She was the one who’d acted like a child, thwarting whatever they might have had because she was afraid to lose him. And she had almost lost him. But if they survived this latest trial, she wasn’t ever letting him go.
God, how far was the boat? Surely they’d been swimming for at least a minute, and at the speed Wyatt swam, that covered a lot of ground. And what about her father?
Wyatt breathed into her mouth again, filling her with life and hope. Unable to meet his gaze for fear she’d start sobbing from the magnitude of the emotions welling up inside her, she craned her head to the left. Angel swam strong and confident beside them with her father held protectively in his arms. That gave her some small measure of relief. She prayed her father remained unconscious until they reached the MAKO. If he suddenly awakened underwater with a man breathing into his mouth, he’d surely panic. She went cold at the thought of her father nearly drowning.
Would they make it to the boat in time? Would the master chief? He’d given them a head start, but would he make it, considering he was carrying a big man who had a knife sticking out of his chest? His men had to be concerned for him. She looked back into Wyatt’s eyes and noted the worry before he could blink it away. His tongue stroked the inside of her lip in a gentle soothing motion. Had they somehow given him telepathic powers as well? No. This was just Wyatt. Caring and considerate. Perfect.
Wyatt pointed to a spot ahead of them. She arched her neck and saw a dark shape in the water. It had to be their boat. Anxious and excited, she watched their approach. They had to get to the boat before the bomb in the kidnapper’s cruiser went off. If they were caught up in the explosion, they’d be smashed against the side of the MAKO.
As though sharing her worries, Wyatt gave several mighty kicks and as soon as they were within a few feet of the transom, strong hands reached under her arms and lifted her out of the water. Wyatt came up right behind her as did Angel, who transferred her father into Shamu’s outstretched arms. “I’ll take good care of him, ma’am.”
She nodded her appreciation.
“How far out is the master chief?” Wyatt asked.
Not having a comm, she didn’t hear the reply, but the tension in Wyatt’s jaw said it all. Suddenly, all the men frowned.
“What is it?” she asked, gripping Wyatt’s wrist.
Absently, he ran a hand over her dripping hair. “Romero’s still about fifty yards away. The tango gave him some grief and he had to knock the man out.”
“I should go back in and help him,” Wingman said.
With eyes dead enough to make her shiver, Kasper stared Wingman down. “You will stay right the fuck here. Understood, Seaman Livingston?”
Wingman snapped to attention. “Yes, Senior Chief.”
Kasper turned to her. “Ma’am please go inside and buckle up. Chain, be ready to fire up the engines in twenty seconds.”
Claire stared at the man’s retreating back. “We’re leaving? What about the master chief? We can’t just abandon him.”
“We’re following his orders, Claire. Now get inside where it’s safer. We don’t have much time.” Wyatt gave her a gentle push.
She gripped his hand as she fought the burn of tears. “Be careful. I can’t lose you.”
He gave her a quick hard kiss. “You won’t.”
Clenching her hands, she raced inside and took a seat across from her father and Shamu. From this angle, she could still see the stern. Wyatt and Angel stood on the transom, looking out into the ocean with binoculars. “I see him!” Angel shouted.
“Belay my last,” Kasper said and some of the tension left the men’s shoulders as they awaited their leader.
Suddenly, the air grew quiet and the boat seemed to sink into the water. Claire’s stomach flipped and ice spread from her head to her toes. They were too late. “Take cover!” Kasper shouted.
Wyatt and Angel dove onto the deck just as a wave swelled below them, lifting the MAKO high in the air. A scream tore from Claire’s chest as they crashed down again. Water poured onto the deck and into the cabin. Where was Wyatt? She couldn’t see him anymore. “Wyatt!” She shouted his name over the crashing of the w
aves against the boat’s metal side.
Had he been swept off the deck and into the water? Not a problem if he were conscious. But what if he’d hit his head? A pain started in the vicinity of her heart and spread until she couldn’t breathe. Bending over, she buried her face against her knees as her body shook with the force of her sobs. She couldn’t lose him. Not now, not ever.
A warm hand gripped hers and Wyatt’s low calming voice washed over her. “It’s okay, Claire. We’re safe. This boat is like a tank.”
Her eyes popped open and she threw her arms around him. “Oh my God, Wyatt. I was so scared. I thought you’d gone overboard and—” She broke off on a hiccup.
“Shh… I’m okay. Everyone’s okay.”
“And the master chief?”
Wyatt hung his head. “We don’t know. He’s not responding to the comm.”
A fresh wave of tears blurred her vision. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt.”
He raised his head and stared into her eyes. “What for, sweetheart?”
“I know how much you care for the master chief. It’s my fault if he’s…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word.
“Nothing’s your fault. This is our job, Claire. It’s what we do.”
If she were going to chance a future with Wyatt, she’d have to accept that. Accept the risk that the same could happen to him. She nodded. “I get it.”
“And it won’t come between us?”
“I let my fears get the better of me once. It won’t happen again.”
A smile lit up his face, warming her from the inside out. This was absolutely the right decision.
“Up ahead,” Angel shouted.
Claire gripped Wyatt’s shoulders. “Romero?”
He quickly unbuckled her belt and helped her up. “Let’s go see.”
As he led her out, she turned to where Shamu held her father, wrapped in a blanket. “He’s fine,” he told her before she could ask.
She smiled her thanks and rushed out onto the deck with Wyatt. Chain maneuvered the boat to within several feet of the two bodies bobbing on the surface of the water. Her stomach cramped and Wyatt stiffened beside her. It might be their job, but these men all cared for each other very deeply. If Romero died, they’d all have lost a friend. Her earlier feelings of guilt resurfaced. She’d put them all at risk by insisting they try to rescue the kidnapper.
Shadows in the Mist: A Paranormal Anthology Page 34