Finally, Ren came running from the side of the hotel where the parking garage was located. He was accompanied by a large number of Dutch marines and resort security. The reinforcements began securing the area alongside of Sam. Sirens sounded in the distance. She wasn’t alone any longer.
Letting out a shaky breath, Dawn sat down, her knees suddenly weak in the aftermath of the intense situation, and relaxed against the side of the SUV. “How’s Theo?”
Before Conn could answer, Sam reached her side and pulled her up and into his arms. He squeezed her tightly against him, his face buried in her hair. “God, I couldn’t get here fast enough.”
“I’m fine.” She leaned into his strong, solid body and inhaled his scent, allowing it to soothe her. As she petted his back, her heart rate slowed and the boulder lodged in her throat eased. “It’s poor Theo who got hurt. Conn?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Conn swore. “Bastard went for the heart, but Theo must’ve turned just enough that the knife missed. But it still did a lot of damage. He should make it if we can get blood in him and get him to a trauma surgeon.”
Sam looked down at Theo and grimaced. He spoke into the mike positioned along his jaw, “Ren, where are the fucking medics?”
“They’re here.” Ren left the searchers and joined them. “Make room.” He looked at Conn’s hands on Theo’s chest. “Jesus, Conn. Is he alive?”
“His pulse is fast and thready,” Conn replied. “But he’s holding on. Theo and I made a deal: he wouldn’t die on me, if I didn’t give up on him. So far, thanks to Dawn protecting both our asses, we’ve managed to stay the course.”
Dawn buried her face in Sam’s chest. He rubbed her back and whispered against her ear, “You did good. You’re done for the night. Ren, Conn, and I will finish this with the help of the locals. Still not sure how MacLean had time to put this all together—”
“These were Benrabi’s men. They were in his cabana at the pool.” Dawn sighed and let Sam take more of her weight. “Benrabi’s relentless when he wants something … and cunning. He and MacLean had to have a basic plan in place to snatch me before they reached the table—and it was highly adaptable. Benrabi did the same when he snatched me right from under my father’s nose and embassy security when I was a teen. MacLean must’ve texted Benrabi’s men, telling them that I’d be coming out with Conn.”
“Fuckers,” Sam muttered, his cheek pressed against hers.
“They’ll be scrambling to find another way out of Aruba,” Ren said.
“So, now all we have to do is find them,” Dawn said.
“No we about it,” Sam nudged her toward a Land Rover with a Dutch marine, a real one this time, in the driver’s seat. “Let us handle tracking Benrabi and MacLean. The sergeant is going to drive you to the estate and stay with you and Keely. There are several other military guards already there.”
“Okay.” She patted his chest. His voice, his expression, were filled with worry, so she’d let him protect her. Plus, all in all, she’d done a good night’s work: won a lot of money, helped get DNA and an identifying voice print on a traitor, and saved Conn and Sam from getting shot. “Keely and I will want to listen in. So keep the com system on.”
“You got it, little cat.” He leaned over and kissed her deeply. His kiss was cherishing and filled with the promise of a future together. Then he led her to the Land Rover.
Cupping his beard-shadowed jaw, she pulled him down for another kiss. “I think I love you, Sam.”
“God, Dawn. I know I love you.”
His words resonated and something inside her clicked into place. No more thinking about it—she loved this man, every bleeding dominant, alpha-male centimeter of him.
Sam touched his forehead to hers. “See you later.”
“Stay safe,” she whispered against his lips.
“I will,” he promised.
Chapter 13
10: 45 p.m., Orangestad’s Port, Aruba
Sam, Ren, and Conn were present on the docks when the kidnapped girls gripping blankets around their scantily clad bodies were taken off several Aruban Coast Guard boats and loaded onto waiting busses. All of them would be taken to the main hospital in Aruba’s capital to be checked over.
Since their private yachts had been seized, Benrabi and MacLean couldn’t easily escape by water. To make sure the two didn’t sneak onto some other docked ship, Sam and the others had helped search the port area, which had been placed on high alert. The Dutch navy, backed up by some U.S. naval ships stationed in Aruba, were stopping and boarding all boats in the waters around Aruba, Bonaire, and Curacao.
The Queen Beatrix airport was on lock-down. Nothing was taking off until the Dutch military said so. The local police with Dutch marines assisting were investigating all private airstrips and helipads. No plane or helicopter had taken off since the shootout in the drive of the hotel as verified by live satellite feed per Keely.
“So, where do we go next?” Sam said.
Ren looked grim. “We may have to have the Aruban police alert the public and then institute a house-by-house search to root the fuckers out.”
Sam shook his head in disgust. “MacLean has always been a slippery bastard. We have to stop him here and now, or he’ll be in the wind again. And I want Benrabi locked away—far away from Dawn.”
“Let me touch base with Keely,” Ren said. “She and Dawn might have something for us from the satellite and CCTV feeds she’s tapped into.” He tapped his com-link. “Keely… Keely… Sprite?” His voice had grown frantic with each lack of response. “Fuck. She isn’t answering. She always answers.”
“Maybe she’s taking a bio break.” Conn’s voice was steady and reasonable.
Ren’s growing concern had infected Sam. “They both wouldn’t be unreachable. If Keely was in the bathroom, Dawn should’ve responded. When was the last time we heard from them?”
“At 2230.” Ren ran toward the Ranger Rover he, Conn, and Sam were using, shouting over his shoulder. “That’s when Keely relayed the all-clear report on the private airstrips.”
Keeping pace with Ren, Sam attempted to raise the Dutch marine guards assigned to guard the women. “Fuck it. The guards aren’t responding either.”
Sam ran and got into the driver’s seat. Conn piled into the back passenger seat as Ren rode shotgun. “Hold on.” He put the car in gear and accelerated down the port road like a rocket.
“Captain Hoffmann, this is Ren Maddox. No one’s answering at my rental.” Ren paused, listening, then growled out, “Fuck—”
“What’s fuck?” Sam glanced at Ren and found a look on the former SEAL’s face that meant the whole situation had just gone FUBAR.
Ren looked at him and waved him off. “Captain, consider the situation as dire. We need backup there, ground and air, ASAP. The escaped criminals plus an unknown number of accomplices have taken over the premises. My wife and Dawn Wilson might be hostages.”
Sam snarled and floored the accelerator. Ren shot a fierce glance at him. “Yeah, we’re on our way. We’ll meet you at the entrance to the road leading to the main house. Out.”
“What happened to the guards Hoffmann assigned to our women?” Sam asked as he swerved around slow-moving vehicles on the coastal road.
Ren braced his hand on the dashboard. “His men didn’t check in as scheduled at 2230 hours.”
“Why in the fuck didn’t they send someone to check on them?” Conn’s tone was terse.
“They did. Immediately. Those men haven’t been heard from either,” Ren said. “Hoffmann was ready to send in a helicopter to investigate.”
“Jesus, Ren—” Sam growled. “If the girls are being held hostage—the sound of a helicopter might escalate the situation.” He didn’t want to think about what MacLean might do to the girls to get air surveillance withdrawn.
“Hoffman understands the situation is delicate.” Ren let out a harsh breath. “But we need a chopper there in case they attempt to escape with one or both of our women.
”
“Yeah.” Sam glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. It read 10:50 p.m. “So sometime between the guards’ report at 2200 hours and their missed report at 2230, MacLean and Benrabi and an unknown number of men entered the estate and took out the guards, right?”
“Yeah.” Ren sounded ice-cold, but the vibes coming off the man were volcanic in their intensity. “We know the girls were okay at 2230 since Keely would’ve used our code word for trouble if she were being held hostage.”
“Let’s give the girls credit. They’re smart. They’ll be alert. They can handle themselves,” Conn said. “And, worst case, if they’re being held, they’ll know we’re coming for them and will do what is needed to stay safe.”
Yeah, his little cat and Keely were smart and resourceful, but a lot of bad things could happen to the women no matter how well-trained they were. Plus, they’d be out-numbered. Rats always travelled in packs.
“Dammit!” The acidic burn of guilt, helplessness, and fear seared his gut. He’d sent the woman he loved into danger. “Dawn was supposed to be safe.” He pushed the Rover up to one hundred miles per hour. The Aruban coastal roads weren’t designed for this kind of speed, but fuck it.
As Sam drove like a bat out of hell, he was aware of Ren and Conn checking over their weapons.
****
10:40 pm, Keely and Ren’s rental
Dawn stepped into the great room, having changed into cut-off jean shorts, a tank top, and a pair of flip-flops. She still wasn’t wearing a bra or knickers since she drew the line at wearing another woman’s lingerie. Her thigh holster was strapped on one exposed thigh; her gun was loaded with a fresh clip. As long as MacLean and Benrabi were at-large, she wanted a loaded gun within reach.
“Thanks for sharing your wardrobe. I like these clothes much better than that bandage dress you loaned me.”
Keely looked up from the computer and smiled. “You can keep the Leger. Ren threatened to beat me daily if I didn’t lose it.” She giggled. “He loves me naked, not sure why he didn’t like the dress.”
Dawn sat next to Keely and studied the images on the multiple monitors. “Maybe because you dared to wear it in public… around other men?”
“That was probably it.” Keely angled her head and grinned. “I love pulling my macho man’s tail. He’s so frick-fracking cute when he gets pissed and goes all caveman on me.”
“Hmm,” Dawn studied her new friend, “so you tempt his beast a lot?”
“Yep, and you should take a leaf from my book and do the same with Sam.” Keely patted her hand over her heart. “Makes my heart rate freaking crazy when Ren goes all alpha and spanks my ass. The sex that follows is frick-fracking amazing. Rough, fast, and all night long.”
“He spanks you?” Dawn’s face grew warm with embarrassment, but a flood of moisture coated her pussy and her clit throbbed at the idea of being spanked before sex.
“Sexy spanking.” Keely winked. “I get so hot, so fast, my first orgasm is almost a spontaneous combustion. I have so many orgasms during one of those sessions, my pussy tingles for two days.”
Dawn could see Sam giving her that kind of sexual experience. She had a full-body shiver merely thinking about it.
“Isn’t that topping from below?” Dawn asked. “Manipulating Ren into getting what you want in bed?”
“Yeah, and my hunk of a man knows it.” Keely laughed. “But he likes the results, too.”
“I bet.” Dawn noticed a shadow on one of the screens displaying the rental estate’s grounds. “What’s that?” She pointed to an area just off the drive in front of the house. “It wasn’t there the last time the camera scanned over the area.”
Keely repositioned the camera and zeroed in on the shadow. “Shit, that’s a body.”
Dawn picked up a walkie-talkie like the one the Dutch marines guarding the house used. “Come in, Nils.” No answer. “Johann?” No answer. “Dirk?” No answer.
“Frick-fracking donkey balls.” Keely picked up her gun off the computer console and flicked off the safety. Dawn pulled hers from her thigh holster and did the same thing, then re-holstered it.
“Ren?… Come in, big guy.” Keely spoke into the SSI headset aligned along her jaw. She switched frequency. “Ren? Conn?… Shit, shit, shit. No signal. Let’s go.”
Keely only paused long enough to shut down the monitors and to grab her small computer tablet.
Dawn’s heart threatened to pound out of her chest as adrenaline flooded into her bloodstream, preparing her for fight or flight. She wasn’t sure what Keely was planning, but was certain the woman had a specific end game.
Keely set a fast pace as she led the way into the back of the house and then down the basement stairs. “Why can’t we radio out?” Dawn asked.
“Someone’s jamming those audio frequencies.” Keely’s voice was calm; her breathing was only slightly elevated. “Lucky for us, the security video and audio is hardwired, so we’ll be able to locate, track, and listen in on the intruders once we reach our safe place. Hold onto me. I don’t want to turn on any lights and draw anyone’s attention.”
As if Keely’s words conjured them up, footsteps sounded overhead. Heavy, hard, rapid thuds. Dawn couldn’t tell how many, just that there were a lot of them. She bet two of the housebreakers were Benrabi and MacLean. Since she’d been extremely lucky at cards tonight, it was a sure bet.
Keely let out a wispy “ssh” and moved away from the bottom of the dimly lit stairs and into the Stygian darkness of the basement’s main room.
Gradually, Dawn’s eyes adjusted. They stopped in front of a wine rack-covered wall. Keely pulled out one bottle and a section of the wine racks opened to reveal a door made of what looked to be steel and had a key-pad security lock.
Dawn murmured in a low, non-carrying tone. “In a rental?”
Keely’s grin showed white in the relative darkness. Then she turned and entered a code on the pad. The steel door opened into a dark room with only a whoosh. They entered and automatic lighting came on.
Keely shut the door and the lock clunked solidly.
They were safe.
Keely moved to a set of security monitors and fired them up. Looking over her shoulder while typing rapidly, she said, “This is why we rented the place. It’s owned by a wanna-be dictator from one of the Mexican coastal states. He’s very security conscious.”
“You mean this house is owned by a drug cartel leader?” Dawn said. She didn’t know who else would have the audacity to want to be a dictator in Mexico.
“Yep. But he’s in jail right now,” muttered Keely as she typed on the security system key board, pulling up camera feeds and reprogramming the cameras to do whatever it is the small computer genius wanted them to do. “So he doesn’t need it. His estate manager was happy to take money under the table. What El Jefe doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Ahh, there you are, you frick-fracking douchebags.”
Dawn looked over Keely’s shoulder. MacLean, Benrabi, and some of the biggest, ugliest thugs she’d ever seen in her life stood in the great room she and Keely had just vacated. The men looked around and appeared to be angry their quarry had managed to escape them.
Yay for Team Keely and Dawn.
“Can you get audio on those cameras?” Dawn asked.
“That’s what I’m working on,” Keely replied, a pissed tone in her voice. “Darn it, El Jefe was an el cheapo. No wonder he always gets caught when he hides out at his properties. His system needs a new sound card for the upgraded software I downloaded when we arrived. Okay, this is the best I can do.”
“Where… they…?” Static cut out some of Benrabi’s words. “…perimeter… no… contact.”
Perimeter?
“Bollocks, they have even more men outside.” Dawn looked at Keely. “Can you pull up the outside cameras?”
Keely nodded and displayed multiple exterior feeds on the monitor array, then began keying in commands while muttering to herself.
Dawn peered at the outside v
ideo images as they appeared while trying to decipher what the bleeding hell Benrabi and MacLean were saying.
MacLean spoke, “Armando… search … here somewhere—”
Keely muttered, “Woot! Fixed it.” The audio feed cleared up and MacLean’s words were now crystal-clear.
“—look under beds and in closets. They’re small women and could hide where a child might.”
Several men ran off.
“Child?” Keely sounded pissed. “Did he just compare us to children? What a frick-fracking jerk. I’ll show him who’s a child when I gut his ass.” She angled her head toward a large case on a chair. “Ren and I brought some extra toys…”
Dawn opened the case and laughed with delight. “Ooh, mine.” She pulled out a really nice blade with its own sheath and strapped it to her other thigh. Like Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider, she now had a weapon on each thigh.
Going back into the case, she cooed, “Oh, look, a dart gun.” She gave Keely a thumbs up. “Just what I need for the silent take-down of bleeding arseholes.”
Strapping on a bum bag, Dawn placed the dart gun, a supply of tranquilizer darts, and an extra clip for her gun and some bullets for a reload, if needed, inside it. “It’s like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one, and the only better gift would be to tell me there’s a back way out of this room so I can go outside and play pin the dart on the arseholes in the garden with my trusty dart gun.”
Keely giggled. “Like an Aruban version of Clue. You’ll be delighted to know there is.” She pushed a button on the desk. To their left, a door slid open, revealing a tunnel with LED floor lighting.
“While you go and litter the landscaping with bodies, I’ll use the land-line and call the Aruban national police and have them patch me through to Ren.”
Dawn frowned, her hands planted on her hips. “Why didn’t you call first thing? When our military guards didn’t report into their headquarters on time, all hell probably broke loose. Our men are probably racing here and will walk into a trap.”
“Bull-hockey.” Keely picked up an old rotary dial Princess phone and dialed 911 for police emergency. “Our men aren’t stupid. They know we’ll do the smart thing until they get here.”
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