Since the damn things wouldn’t follow orders, Papa would have to slink over there. Scooting and sliding on the dirt floor, he inched toward the dangling clippers.
The exertion winded him. Dizziness swirled in his head. He inhaled deeply to banish the black spots. His belly cramped where Roszca had connected. Simon hoped to hell the bastard had broken a finger or two.
One more push and he made it to the wall. If he could sit up, he could knock the clippers to the floor.
A cough outside stopped his breath.
A guard. The clippers crashing to the ground would bring the guard inside.
Simon slumped on the floor. Twisting his legs around so he could push partially erect, he had a better vantage point. He surveyed the shed for another idea.
And saw a second door. A steel door with an array of Christmas lights beside the handle.
***
Janna kept an eye on the corridor as she listened at the wooden door. From inside the room came soft sobs and sniffles.
Yelena.
The door was locked. No key in sight. Another barrier. Janna sighed and lifted her stainless steel, tubular lock pick from her pack. She preferred the electronic kind, but low tech was necessary for your basic offset lock. Setting the tension, she inserted. She rotated until the cylinder turned.
The handle clicked. Ta-dah.
At first, she didn’t see the weeping woman. The mournful sounds guided her across the Persian rug, around the lace-covered four-poster bed. Yelena sat on the floor, backed into a corner, head on her up-drawn knees.
Janna fought away tears of empathy. No time for that. “Yelena, I’ve come to free you,” she said in Cleatian.
The other woman looked up with a soggy gasp. “Winzc? What? You cannot be here. Janna?”
“Yes, come with me. I’m taking you away from here.” Yelena’s eyes were red from weeping, but no bruises or swelling marred her delicate features. Thank God.
“Nich, you cannot. You speak my language. Who are you? What is happening?” Wide-eyed, she stared at Janna.
“It’s a long story,” Janna said with a lopsided grin. Kneeling before Yelena, she explained the bare bones. She stood and held out a hand to the frightened woman.
After a moment, Yelena took Janna’s hand and got to her feet. “U.S. agents? You can do nothing on Isla Alta.”
“If nothing else, we can get away. Don’t you want to be free of this cruel man who beats you?”
Yelena gripped the dressing table beside her and turned away, her cheeks coloring. “I don’t know. I don’t know. If he finds me, he will … punish me.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, and she picked up a rosary from a lace doily.
Coming to stand behind her, Janna put her hands on the woman’s trembling shoulders. She swallowed down her remembered denial and fear, just like Yelena’s, and stared at her in the mirror, willing her to believe.
“He won’t find you, I promise. If you stay, first he will kill your spirit. Then he will kill you. Come with me.”
“How do you know how it is?”
Janna gazed into the mirror — at one woman cowering in uncertainty and shame and another who had been there, but who now stood erect and intense with purpose.
She inhaled a shuddery breath. “I suffered as you have. I — I had a husband who beat me. Who controlled my every hour. Who convinced me it was my fault. Getting away is the only answer.” As she began, she heard uneasiness in her voice, but by the time she finished her tone was firm.
The sincerity in her voice or the ferocity in her eyes must’ve struck a chord because, after a moment, Yelena nodded. “Dak. I’ll go with you.”
Janna gave her a quick hug. She directed Yelena to change from her silk skirt and heels into comfortable shorts and sturdy walking shoes.
When the woman’s gaze scanned the room, she said, “I’m sorry you can’t take any of your belongings.”
Yelena’s dark eyes flashed and she spat on the floor. Her chin came up. “I want nothing of his, nothing from this house. I am ready.”
“Let’s go. Your first step in taking control of your life will be helping me free Simon. There’s a little matter of Ivan the Terrible.” Janna grinned at the startled reaction.
***
Simon’s nerves crawled like the mosquitoes partying on his arms and legs. From a distance came shouting and a low roar. The air bore the acrid smell of smoke.
What the hell was going on?
At first, his arms had ached at being bound behind him, but now they were going numb. He could hardly feel his fingers, but he could move his legs. His head hurt like the devil’s steel-drum combo was jamming inside, but the dizziness had abated.
Where was Janna? Did she make it to the DARK contact boat? Or did Wharton and Roszca have her? His blood froze at the thought. And why had nobody come back to interrogate him? Or kill him?
A female voice called in Cleatian. Ivan answered, sounding confused, hesitant.
Simon rolled to his side and snaked closer to the plank door. Leaning against it, he peered through a crack. Two legs in khakis. H&K 9mm at his waist. Ivan.
But he couldn’t see the female. Yelena? Approaching, she continued speaking. He detected an edge of fear in her light voice — and something else. Flirtation?
Then a loud thump, the familiar sound of a hard object connecting with bone and flesh. Ivan groaned and his knees buckled. He toppled to the ground. Then somebody dragged him away by his feet.
Heart pounding a deafening tattoo, Simon strained to get closer to his peephole. Movement, rustling and whispers, but nobody came into view. He strained at his bonds, but found no give, only abrading against his flesh.
Moments later, a thump sounded at the plank door. It swung outward.
“Simon! You’re alive! Thank God!”
He’d never heard such a beautiful sound in his life. Or seen such a welcome sight. His soul bloomed and banished his aches and pains.
At the waist of Janna’s black tank suit, she wore a gun belt equipped with her Sig and a knife sheath. Her streaky hair hung wet about her face as she stood over him like an Amazon. She blew him away. Except—
“Janna, what the hell are you doing here? You should’ve gotten away. They could come at any minute.”
She knelt beside him. “I couldn’t leave you.”
“How did you do this? What about Roszca and his men?”
She slit away his bonds with her knife. “I created a … diversion so I could get on the island unnoticed. I started to get you first, but when I saw Ivan, I went back for my partner here. Yelena distracted Ivan with a poor-little-me act so I could sneak up and whack him with a rock. He’s tied up in the other shed.” She chafed his arms.
Circulation began to return, but his head spun again and not from pain. He dragged his hungry gaze from Janna to Roszca’s mistress — correction, former mistress.
Yelena sent him a shy smile. “I go with you.”
He grinned. “Dak, glot.” He’d learned that glot meant “good.”
“Are you all right?” Janna’s eyes crinkled with concern as she helped him stand.
He shrugged off her coddling. “Dazed for a few minutes. That’s all. I look like hell, but you look gorgeous. Lara Croft and Wonder Woman all in one.” He nodded toward the electronic lock and wished he hadn’t when his head rang like a gong. “Get us outta here, Q.”
“Roger!” Janna dug out her electronic lock pick and handed him his headlamp. She connected her keypad decoder wire to the digital lock and pushed some buttons. In seconds, the numbers clicked into place and the lock popped open.
Simon guided Yelena into the tunnel, cautioning her to keep to the left. As they edged by the deep pit, he peered over the edge. The smell of decay still hung in the air, but he couldn’t see if the body was there.
He called back to Janna, “You bring any C-4? Roszca’s goons could follow us through the tunnel as soon as they discover that Yelena and
I are missing.”
Janna clicked on her headlamp as the steel door locked behind her. “No need. I changed the code. Without one of these babies—” she held up the electronic lock pick before tucking it into her pack “—they can’t open it.”
He started to shake his head in amazement, but thought better of it. “Sweetheart, you rock. When we get back, I’m buying that T-shirt that says Geeks Rule.”
At his side, Yelena said, “What is geeks?”
They both laughed.
“I’ll explain later,” he said. “Let’s get out of here first.”
The trek through the ocean-carved tunnel was faster and easier this time. No horde of bats descended on them, and they knew their way. In about ten minutes, they arrived at the mouth of the cavern.
Shivering, they emerged into the heated blanket of tropical air. The sliver of moon hung in the midnight sky. Only a few stars were visible. Darkness crowded the thickets of ferns and palms along the shore. Shadows formed black holes among the rocks.
The three of them sat on the ledge, hidden under the overhang. Janna handed Simon his swim fins and donned hers.
“Damn, you thought of everything,” he said.
“Not quite.” Mouth tight, she pointed toward the dock.
Two men stood smoking cigarettes at the end of the dock. Wharton and Roszca.
Roszca’s yacht partially blocked his view of the rest of the dock. The water in the cove stood empty of all but some floating debris. Odd.
“I can’t see any guards. And where’s the Horizon?”
“That was … my diversion.” Janna’s voice faltered. “I set a C-4 charge before swimming to shore. The guards headed out to the Horizon to get me. There were so many of them and…”
“You blew up the boat. Roszca’s thugs too.” And the violence was eating her up. He wrapped an arm around her. “You bought us time and shaved the odds. They would’ve killed us without a qualm. You did the only thing you could do.”
“Except now, we don’t have a boat.”
“Sure we do. I wanted to try my captaining skills with a larger craft. Here’s my chance.”
“You mean the Prowler?”
“A hundred feet of muscle? Oh, yeah. Ivan keeps it spit-shined every day. She should be ready to go.”
She shifted in his embrace, but didn’t pull away. “I hate to burst your bubble, but a mega yacht like that needs a crew of at least three to man the engine room. And she’s no speedster. Either one of the other boats could outrun her.”
“Stepan and Sergiy are strictly bodyguards. You saw the other guards with Ivan on board. They were the crew. With them wiped out—”
“Roszca can’t use the Prowler to chase us.” She straightened, looking more confident. “His choices are as limited as ours. The two inflatables were destroyed in the blast. That leaves two other boats — the fishing boat and the speedboat.”
The Prowler blocked their view of the remaining boats, but he stared hard in that direction. The speedboat boasted an aerodynamic V-hull and closed bow for racing. She was white with custom graphics of blue flames along the sides. The fishing boat was longer and more stable, but heavier and wider. Even with her more powerful 480s, the fishing boat wouldn’t be able to catch the sleek speedboat.
“Hot damn!” He grinned and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “We’re about to limit his choice to one, the fishing boat. The speedboat is the runaway favorite to get us out of here. Roszca bragged about her dual 350 MerCruiser engines.”
“She ought to do thirty-five at least.”
“Perfect for a chess rematch. We just have to wait for our buddies to leave the dock.”
As if on cue, a shout from the compound turned both men’s heads around like hounds catching a scent. Throwing their smokes in the water, they hot-footed it toward the house.
“They find my room empty,” Yelena said. The fear returned to her voice, but she didn’t move.
Janna patted her hand. “Or the twins found Ivan.”
“Let’s go.” Simon slid off the rock into the water.
With Yelena, who had no swim fins, between them, they swam the short distance. Simon released the lines holding the speedboat to the dock as the two women climbed aboard.
“Yelena says that Roszca keeps a key hidden on board,” Janna told him when he joined them in the leather-upholstered cockpit.
On hands and knees, Yelena searched beneath the bucket seats and in the map compartment. “No key here.” She looked up mournfully.
“Then you’d better hope this monster’s not too different from a Chevy Nova. Hot-wiring is our only option.”
Janna pulled Yelena aside as he crawled beneath the console. He heard the smile in her voice as she handed him a headlamp. “Don’t tell me how you learned to steal cars.”
“Baltimore streets were an education, no lie.” He flicked the light over the tangle of colored wires. Hoo boy. He hoped to hell he remembered how to do this. “I need your blade.”
“I watch house.” Yelena took up a post on the rear bench seat where she could see the dock and the compound.
“Hurry, Simon.” Janna passed him the knife. “We need power fast. They’re bound to notice we’re drifting away from the dock. If we have to hit the water, we could hide in the tunnel and wait for Thorne.”
“I’ll have this in a minute. We pull away, the bastard’s bound to come after us. But stay low.” He gave her a wink and a thumbs-up, then continued stripping wires.
Janna smiled, crouching to sit on the floor of the cockpit. Simon, the never-say-die guy, stalwart to the end. Still after his man. If they sailed away on the arms broker’s speedboat, he’d pursue them in the fishing boat. Just what Simon had in mind.
He’d expected her to follow orders and leave him for the wolves. How tragic that he assumed he’d be abandoned. His next reaction had been concern for her safety. His faith in her technical skills and praise at how she saved Yelena and him warmed her shaking insides.
How could she not love this man? But following her heart meant too much risk. Didn’t it? She shoved away her thoughts before the wave of longing from deep inside overcame her.
A couple of whirrs from beneath the speedboat’s stern and one diesel roared to life.
Then nothing.
“Dammit. I had it.”
“They see us!” Tears choked Yelenas’s voice. “Viktor will take me back.”
Angry shouts came from the island.
Janna saw Wharton and Roszca racing toward the dock. Not far behind came the three remaining guards.
Her heart stumbled when she recognized the long, dark objects that Ivan and Wharton were carrying.
“Hurry, Simon! They have assault rifles!”
Chapter 27
“ALMOST GOT IT,” Simon said from beneath the console. His voice was taut with concentration.
Footsteps pounded down the dock.
Another whirr and one of the massive engines growled to life. Then the second.
Janna let out the breath she was holding.
“Pity to get saltwater on this fine upholstery.” Simon had to yell to be heard over the roar of the engines. He slid up and into the captain’s chair. The speedboat had drifted away from the dock and into the stygian night on the outgoing tide, but progress was too slow.
Hands on the wheel, he cocked his head. “You want to take the wheel? You’re the boat expert.”
Janna’s nerves screamed, but she shook her head. “You can handle it. Finish your chess game.”
She switched on the navigation, GPS and depth sounder. “No running lights. We want them to think we’re trying to lose them.”
Roszca, Wharton and Ivan were climbing into the fishing boat, leaving Stepan and Sergiy on the dock.
Loud pops exploded in rapid succession from the fishing boat, and bullets whizzed by and splashed in the water beside them. The former Marine colonel hadn’t lost his touch.
Yelena
screamed.
Janna swallowed hard.
Engines rumbled behind them as the fishing boat started up. Roszca was at the helm. She couldn’t see his face, but almost felt the heat of his fury.
“Keep down,” Simon warned. “They can’t see us, but that new AK-Alpha has a long range. We don’t want them to get lucky.”
She pulled Yelena forward and urged her below through the companionway between the two bucket seats. “Why would he shoot at Yelena? Doesn’t he want her back?”
Simon’s dark glance told her the naïveté of her optimism. Events had gone way beyond Roszca retrieving his mistress. He couldn’t let them escape. None of them.
He shifted into forward and pushed the brass-knobbed throttles ahead. “Here goes my first move.”
“Hit it! Leave ’em in our wake,” yelled Janna.
He did.
With a roar like a rocket launch, the speedboat zoomed out of the Isla Alta cove and into open waters. A phosphorescent wake, caused by tiny plankton, spread out behind them. Around the sickle moon like a cocked eyebrow, a few stars winked. The midnight-blue Caribbean rolled away into velvety blackness.
“The phosphorescence is our bread crumb trail. We want them to keep up with us, but not too close.” Simon turned the wheel to start a zigzag course. “Come on, you bastard. Counter this opening.”
The running lights of the fishing boat veered with them.
“Now we just have to find Thorne’s boat,” he said.
Janna dug through her pack for the satellite phone. “Here you go.”
He sent her a slow wink. “You call him, Q.”
She understood as soon as she raised Thorne. His response blasted her ears more than the growl of the speedboat’s engine. “Where the devil have you been? I’ve looked all over the damned Caribbean for the Horizon.”
“You’re looking for the wrong boat.” She recited a minimal answer and requested their location.
When she disconnected, she directed Simon to continue zigzagging as though trying to lose their pursuers, but basically to stick to the heading Thorne gave her. North toward a small uninhabited island.
“They’re on our tail,” she said in his ear as she kept an eye on the bulkier craft. “He must know they can’t catch us, but they show no sign of quitting.” Far behind, thank goodness. Help with manpower and arms was still too far away.
Dark Rules (The DARK Files Book 3) Page 21