Mary Margaret tried navigating around him. “Let me stop her. I need to avenge my parents.”
“What you need is to stay safe. Yo, Raleigh! Mind taking this spitfire former nun back onto our ride?”
“My pleasure.” Before she had time to launch a fresh protest, Mary Margaret was swept off of her feet and hauled into the jet’s relative safety by a hulking stranger she hadn’t even known was aboard.
“No! Put me down!” She pummeled him the whole way, but he didn’t stop until dumping her in one of the supple leather seats.
“Chill,” the stranger pinned her down. “I need to help Everett, and can’t do that babysitting you.”
“Babysitting?” Mary Margaret struggled all the harder. “Give me a gun. I’ll have no problem shooting.”
The man sighed, dismissing her words as if she were a pesky gnat.
“Ready?” He spoke into a tiny microphone she’d just now noticed hidden beneath the cuff of his crisp, white shirt’s sleeve. “We’re in position.” There was a brief pause, then, “Roger, that.”
The jungle surrounding the desolate airstrip sprang to life.
A dizzying array of military jeeps filled with men dressed in camo from their dark boots to their painted faces surrounded the hangar’s open door. Behind them, a dozen or more black SUVs rolled into position behind the Jeeps.
“Tiren sus armas!” called a voice from over a loudspeaker. “Nosotros tenemos rodeado!” Drop your weapons. We have you surrounded.
Mary Margaret leapt from her seat for a better view of this new—most welcome—development.
Camilla’s men looked back and forth at each other.
Camilla ignored the voice and approached Everett. “What is this? Some kind of joke?”
“I assure you,” he said, “the Bogotá division of the DEA is no joke. Now that they have you available for a chat, I’m guessing they’d like to keep you here for a nice, long while.”
A swarm of DEA agents entered the hangar, starting the process of cuffing Camilla’s men, then hauling them outside.
“Let me hold my son,” Camilla begged. “Just one more time, let me breathe him in.”
“No can do,” Everett said. “Prison’s going to be your only stop.”
“Please.” Camilla strode closer and closer to the jet, forcing Everett to raise his weapon. “Obviously, you’ve won. Why not grant this defeated woman one, last request?”
“Because, Señora,” Mary Margaret stood at the plane’s door. “Just like you and your men took my parents from me, you took that baby from his true mother. Vicente might have been Joe’s biological father, but you are nothing to—”
“Don’t bring my husband into this,” Camilla snapped. “He promised me a child, and I’m here to claim him. My lawyers will have me released in an hour. As long as I’m breathing, I will never stop fighting for my son.”
“Then maybe you need to stop—breathing.” Mary Margaret lunged for the señora, but Everett held her back.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa . . .” Everett held her close. “Let’s keep your hands clean. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Señora Rodriguez is done. Don’t ruin your beautiful future—our shared future—for scum.”
“Bastard.” As if life were unfolding in slow motion, Camilla dragged a long, lethal knife from a hidden side panel in her skirt, then charged for Mary Margaret. “If I can’t be happy, no one will! I’ll kill you both before letting you win!”
Mary Margaret lurched forward to save the man she’d only just now realized she couldn’t live without, but there was no need.
With lightning speed, Everett aimed his weapon.
The report was loud enough to make Mary Margaret’s ears ring.
Señora Rodriguez fell backwards, clutching her chest, crying out in pain. Blood seeped out from under her, pooling on the concrete, in a macabre way, matching her dress. As if intending to speak, she opened her mouth, but blood bubbled from between her lips instead of words.
A wellspring of emotion turned Mary Margaret’s legs to jelly. She spun toward Everett, clinging to him for support. While all around her, the hangar filled with special agents making arrests, hot, messy tears streamed down her cheeks. She’d been so afraid—not just for her herself, but Everett. How could she have continued without him when she’d only just now truly learned what it meant to live? But what if he didn’t feel the same about her? What if her inexperience with men had caused her to misread everything they’d shared?
Trying to play it cool, as if she hadn’t died a little inside from her fear of losing him, she asked, “What will happen to the convent, orphanage, and hospital? Without her financial support, will they be forced to close? They do so much good.”
“Assuming the sisters find another supporter with equally deep pockets—only this time around, with their money coming from a clean, traceable source—they should all be fine. Better, really.”
Mary Margaret nodded. “Do you think maybe you or your friends could help me find such a person? I think I want to continue my work—never in Colombia, but maybe somewhere else where I could feel needed.”
“What are you saying?” Everett’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t want to be with me?”
“Of course, I want to be with you, but I assumed now that your friends’ infant is safe, our time together is done.”
“Babe . . .” While DEA agents scurried around them, a low growl emitted from Everett’s throat. “What I feel for you? Far from being done, it’s just getting good, and only going to be better.” He leaned closer and closer until planting the sweetest of kisses on her lips. The sensation was akin to flying. She loved him. She well and truly loved him. She didn’t begin to understand how it had happened so fast, but it had, and she wasn’t complaining.
Epilogue
Six months later. Chichen Itza, Mexico
“HONEY, STOP MAKING those awful faces.” Mary Margaret loved her brand new husband, but if he didn’t allow her to take at least one great selfie for her Facebook and Twitter accounts, she just might conk him over his handsome head with her new iPhone.
She’d talked him into growing a beard, and he’d never looked more handsome.
Everett groaned. “Who was the idiot who taught you about social media?”
“You’re looking right at him,” she said with a laughing wink. Finally, she’d gotten the perfect shot. Now, they could head back to their Jeep rental and their Playa del Carmen hotel. Turns out honeymoon sex was the best invention ever!
“Don’t your nursing school friends get tired of so many selfies of you and me?” he asked when climbing down from the rock she’d made him stand on in order to get the perfect backdrop of the main pyramid.
“Never,” she said with a red-faced giggle. “Turns out they all think you’re as hot as I do.”
“Lord . . .” He arched his head back and laughed.
It was incredible how much she’d learned about her new world in such a short time. She’d aced her G.E.D. exam, then gotten herself into a great nursing program. Sure, it would be years before she earned her degree, but that was okay. In between studying, working part-time at Maisey’s dress shop and helping her with Baby Joe, Mary Margaret had planned her beach wedding and now, here she was, just two days into what would no doubt be one of the best weeks of her—correction, their—entire lives.
Her husband’s cell rang. Would she ever tire of his official title? No! LOL!
She was heading for a souvenir stand for a magnet to mount on their new house’s fridge when she caught Everett’s smile fade. Never a good sign. Usually involved work.
Jasper’s wife, Eden, still complained about how their honeymoon had been cut short by Trident, Inc. business. Surely, the same thing wasn’t now happening to Everett and her?
Five minutes later, he ended the call, then tucked his phone in his pocket before heading her way with only a slight limp since, after surgery and a ton of physical therapy, his knee was almost back to normal. “Babe, I’ve got good n
ews and bad. Which do you want first?”
“Do we have to leave?” She knew his job was important, but so was their honeymoon!
“Thankfully, you don’t, but it looks like I might.”
She groaned. “That’s horrible news. What happened?”
“Remember how my friend Harding started dating that nurse? I think her name’s Olivia?”
“Duh. I love Olivia. She helped me with my nursing school application. Is she okay?”
“She is, but Briggs just told me her grandparents have vanished. They’re amateur treasure hunters, and were vacationing at a remote spot in Utah. They were supposed to have been home two days ago, but have apparently disappeared without a trace.”
“That’s horrible. But why can’t Harding help find them?”
“He can—and will. But since there might be climbing involved, Briggs wants me on standby. He’s already bought Maisey and Eden tickets to spend the rest of the week partying with you.” The whole Trident, Inc. crew had attended their wedding, but then left. Even Everett’s parents, Doris and Fred had come.
Mary Margaret still didn’t fully understand why he’d lied about their fictional untimely demise, but she loved them so much, and they’d been so great about welcoming her into their family that she’d long since forgiven him.
“No.” Hands on her hips, Mary Margaret shook her head. “I almost lost you once over a cliff. I’m not doing it again. Especially, now . . .”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Not even trying to hide her pout, Mary Margaret said, “Remember how we got a little too carried away with . . . You know . . . Before the wedding?” Even though she was now a married woman, she still got embarrassed while talking out loud about S-E-X.
“Yeah . . . That was a couple months ago, right?”
“Uh huh . . . But we forgot to use protection, and . . .”
He clutched his chest, then hunched over, bracing his hands on his thighs.
“Sweetie? Are you all right?” Geesh, she was the pregnant one. Why did he look on the verge of passing out?
“Like for real? It’s doctor official that we’re going to be parents?”
Teary eyed, she nodded.
He’d turned red-faced and squinty. Could he breathe?
“Well?” she asked. “What are you thinking?”
“What am I thinking?” He picked her up in a giant bear hug, but then apologized, tenderly kissing her tummy upon setting her down. “I love you. And I can’t wait to raise our baby with you. And that you’ve seriously made me the happiest man on Earth. And that right about now, I really despise my boss.”
Dear Reader—
If you are one of the BUNCHES of lovely fans who sent me Facebook messages and tweets and emails asking when this book would FINALLY be released, I can’t apologize enough for it taking so long. In January of 2016, we started renovating our house to put on the market in April—HA! LOL!
By the last week in June, we’d finished renovations, and as I’m writing this note in December of 2016, we’re THRILLED to have finally found our perfect buyers!
All of which is a long-winded way of saying that the whole house-selling process takes WAY too much time from my writing!
Fingers crossed that as soon as I’m settled into my new office, you’ll get your SEAL books much faster!
Until then, I’m off to vacuum for our home appraisal . . .
Laura Marie ;-)
P.S. Keep reading for a sneak peek at EXILE!
EXILE
Sneak Peek
SEAL Team: Disavowed
Book Three
Laura Marie Altom
1
Red Falls, Utah
HARVEY “DUDE” BURNETT’s hands shook so badly that he darned near dropped his shovel. In all of his seventy-two years, he couldn’t ever quite recall being this excited—well, of course the day his granddaughter Olivia had been born, but this . . . He couldn’t stop smiling when giving the still mostly buried trunk’s lid another satisfying thump. Even by the battery-powered lantern’s dim light, he could tell they’d hit the motherlode of all treasures. “Shirley! Hurry up with that camera! We’re making history, muffin!”
“I’m trying, but it’s just not here. Could we have left it back at that truck stop when we went into town for the ladder?” From her perch at the mouth of the narrow cave, her voice sounded tinny. It had been three weeks since they’d loaded up their RV and driven from their home in Jacksonville, Florida to this forgotten Utah cave. Sure, he and his honey muffin had been hunting this treasure since they’d first married over fifty years ago, but this time was different. They’d actually found something, and he planned on documenting it for the whole world to see. He had to make everything just right for their History Channel documentary special.
“Nah. Keep looking.” He put extra backbone into digging faster. “It’s gotta be there somewhere.” He’d first gotten his hands on the treasure map to a Franciscan friars’ hidden hoard back when he and its owner served in the Navy. He and Jimmy couldn’t have been much older than eighteen when they’d found themselves pretty near blown to hell in Vietnam.
Their field hospital cots had been side-by-side when Jimmy had opened up about the map. He’d been raised in Utah and claimed his father died looking for the treasure. Jimmy’s dying request had been for Dude to find the supposed stash of stolen Incan treasures. His entire life, Dude had periodically been coming out here, trying to make good on his long ago promise, but it wasn’t until his granddaughter, Olivia, joined in on his research that things had taken a most peculiar turn.
Seems all these years, he and Shirley had been looking in the wrong spot. What they’d thought read White Falls in Navajo, Łigaii, had actually been Łichíí'—red. That discovery had led to a cornucopia of new details and characters who had all shared even more new information. Sure, some of the folks they’d met hadn’t been so friendly, but with a treasure this size, he supposed that was to be expected.
Dude shoveled faster and faster until the sandy soil raised quite a dust cloud in the cramped space. He suffered through a coughing spell, but then got right back to it. The chest’s entire top was almost exposed. Just a little further, and he’d be able to pry it open.
“Shirley! Where’s my camera?”
“You mean this?” a man’s voice asked.
Dude spun around to find a familiar figure holding not only Shirley’s prized digital camera, but a gun. Poor Shirley stood in front of the man. Two more ominous figures loomed behind. Dude dropped the shovel, then slowly raised his hands. “Now, look, back in Salt Lake City, me and Shirley told you we don’t want any trouble. We’re amicable to share.”
“See?” The man laughed. “That’s where you and I differ. Because quite frankly, I’ve never liked sharing.”
“But—” One of the men behind Shirley spoke up, only to be instantly silenced by a lone shot’s roar. The gun’s concussive force seemed to rock the cramped space.
The other man lunged forward and a fight ensued.
Dude grabbed Shirley’s forearm, their fallen camera and the shovel, before pushing her a little deeper into the cavern.
He doubled back for the lantern.
“What’re we going to do?” Shirley asked. Her dear face was dirt-smudged and her eyes were red and teary.
“Shhh . . .” They’d come to a fork. Dude veered left, but then dropped to his knees, smudging out their tracks with the shovel. “Don’t you worry about a thing, honey muffin. We’re going to be just fine.”
A second gunshot roared.
A half-scream escaped her before she covered her mouth with her hands.
“Come on,” Dude guided her deeper, always using the shovel to erase their path. “While they fight, we’re going to find another way out.”
“But what about the treasure?”
He stopped for a hasty kiss. “You’re my true treasure.”
Dude might have reassured his wife, but inside, his heart galloped a
t an alarming degree. If he didn’t find a way to calm down, a heart attack might kill him before these bandits got a second chance . . .
Look for EXILE’s exciting conclusion in 2017!
About the Author
Laura Marie Altom is the author of over fifty novels. Her award-winning work has appeared on numerous bestseller lists and worldwide, she has over a million books in print. Laura lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her husband of twenty-five years. This former teacher has been blessed with boy/girl twins and a menagerie of dogs and cats. For fun, Laura’s content to garden, thrift-shop or curl up with a great book.
Laura loves hearing from readers, and can be reached at the following social media outlets:
E-mail [email protected]
Website: www.lauramariealtom.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/LauraMarieAltom
Twitter: @LauraMarieAltom
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Copyright © 2016 Laura Marie Altom
ISBN: 978-0-9897229-5-7
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
All characters and incidents within this book are fiction, and works of the author’s imagination.
Shunned (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 3) Page 11