Devil and the Deep (The Deep Six)

by Julie Ann Walker

  Bran felt a muscle twitching in his jaw. And when Sally Mae asked, “Are y’all the ones who took out Bin Laden?” he turned and pointed his finger at Maddy. “Madison Powers!” he thundered.

  “What?” She blinked at him from the beach.

  “Control your charges!”

  The teens dissolved into giggles and Maddy shook her head with exasperation. “Come on, girls!” she called. “Leave Grumpy Gus alone.”

  “Don’t you mean hot, shirtless Grumpy Gus?” Donna hooted as they traipsed down the stairs to join Maddy and Mason on the beach.

  “I need a shower,” Bran told Alex. “I feel dirty.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “I think you’ll survive.”

  Rick exited the cottage, looking a little incongruous in his khaki shorts and shirt with the SCAR-L rifle slung over his shoulder. But Bran had to give it to the guy. He’d comported himself pretty well, all things considered.

  Now, if only the little shit would stop looking at Maddy with all that yearning and lust in his eyes…

  “So how’s it going with Maddy?” Alex broke into his thoughts, clicking off the light inside the cottage and closing the door behind them.

  “So far it’s been just great,” he said sarcastically, watching Rick jog down the steps and join Maddy and the girls. When Rick placed a hand on Maddy’s arm, leaning close to whisper something in her ear, the thing inside Bran unsheathed its claws and bared its fangs.

  Alex pursed her lips. “I’m not talking about the creepy masked men and the gun battles, doofus. I’m talking about…you know. Like, how’s it going with Maddy? How is it seeing her again? She’s prettier than she looks in her online pictures. And pluckier too. Although you can’t really tell pluckiness from Internet photos, can you? No. That’s ridiculous. But my point is, I can see why you’re all goo-goo, gah-gah over her. So?”

  “I’m sorry.” He used her earlier words against her. “What was the question again?”

  “So how’s it going with Maddy?”

  “In how many languages can I say none of your goddamned business?”

  “Because when you look at her,” Alex continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “the expression in your eyes says I’ll take a slice of that along with and how about some right goddamned now on the side.”

  “You better go catch up with Mason.” He hated that his feelings for Maddy were so obvious. “He’s liable to take off in the dinghy and make you swim out to the catamaran.”

  “Uh…change the subject much, Señor Subject Changer?” She pursed her lips.

  “It’d serve you right,” he continued. “Since you didn’t bring the dinghy with you the first time around.”

  “So, how’s it going with you and Maddy?”

  He gritted his teeth. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You shouldn’t,” he insisted as the motor on the dinghy’s outboard engine grumbled to life.

  Alex’s eyes rounded.

  “Told you.” He smiled in vindication.

  “Ugh!” Alex threw her hands in the air. “He is the most impossible man!”

  As she ran down the steps and across the beach, Bran was left with no recourse but to follow Maddy and the ranger as they herded the teenagers toward the bridge. All the while he tried not to think about how much he wanted Maddy. How much he craved her.

  It was an exercise in futility, of course. Because no matter how he tried not to watch the swing of her plump ass in those cutoff shorts, he found his eyes glued there time and again. And no matter how often he told his lips to just forget about it already, they continued to throb with the memory of her kiss.

  And talk about throbbing… His lips weren’t the only body part suffering the affliction.

  Damnit! Maddy was driving him crazy. Totally nuts. And when she turned to smile at him over her shoulder, her pretty eyes sparkling in the glow of the moon and stars and the spotlights, he seriously considered taking Mason up on his offer of trading places.

  Eardrums be damned!

  Chapter 14

  8:54 p.m.…

  Ring! Ring!

  When the satellite phone came to life, Tony nearly dropped his fourth scotch and soda in his rush to answer it. Punching the talk button with one hand and setting his drink on the end table with the other, he said two words: “I’m listening.”

  The response that echoed through the receiver sent chills cascading over his entire body. “We have a problem.”

  Tony swallowed and glanced at Gene who had stopped his incessant pacing to skirt the molded fiberglass coffee table and hover over him where he sat on the end of the sofa. Careful to keep his face blank even though his stomach was trying its best to make the scotch reverse directions, he managed to say evenly, “What kind?”

  It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to grab his highball glass and hurl it against the bulkhead as he listened to Rory Gellman—his former high school buddy turned Army Ranger turned high-priced mercenary—tell him that two of the four men who’d stormed Garden Key were dead. And that the remaining two men had been forced to limp back in their dinghy to the trawler Rory was using as a base of operations when their fishing boat ran out of fuel.

  Tony gritted his teeth so hard he heard them creak. “What happened?”

  “Apparently there are two armed men on the island,” Rory said. “And my guys are saying they’re highly trained.”

  “Shit,” Tony cursed, belying his calm demeanor.

  That had Gene demanding, “What? Damnit, Tony! What’s happenin’?”

  Tony scowled up at Gene and raised a hand for silence. Into the phone, he said, “Who are they, Rory?”

  “Hell if I know,” Rory answered. “You checked the logs just like I did. No one but Miss Powers and the girls was supposed to be camping on Garden Key tonight.”

  “Shit,” Tony cursed again, his mind racing. Was it possible Madison Powers had hired an armed escort without telling anyone? And then he quickly decided it didn’t matter. He had bigger things to worry about.

  “Can the two you lost be traced back to you?” he asked, holding his breath. Because if those guys could lead back to Rory, and if Rory could lead back to Tony…

  “What do you mean the two that were lost?” Gene thundered. “Who was lost? The girls?”

  “Shut up and sit down!” Tony yelled right back. “I’m handling this!” Into the satphone he said, “Go on.”

  “All the authorities would have to do is run their prints,” Rory admitted. “We were all in the services, so our profiles are in the government databases. And that brings me back to the really bad news. One of those two mystery men on the island got hold of a radio. I’m not sure how, but I suspect they had a boat anchored somewhere. A few minutes ago, right before my guys showed up, he put in a call over marine channel sixteen to some asshole on a nearby island who used a satellite phone to call the Coast Guard in Key West.”

  “Shit!” Tony roared, ignoring the sputtering sound Gene was making. The ocean breeze had been blowing across the back of the yacht, keeping his temper cooled, but now it suddenly felt hot and oppressive. “We have to go back and get the bodies.”

  “The bodies!” Gene howled, stumbling back and nearly losing his footing on the stairs that led down to the small swim deck on the back of the boat.

  “I have a second group willing to go in and do exactly that,” Rory assured him. “And they’ll finish the job with Miss Powers and the girls too. But to do that, my men will need to take out the two murderous assholes guarding that island. And I know you said you didn’t want any bloodshed, but—”

  “Forget that,” Tony snarled, not hesitating. “Do it. Whatever it takes.”

  “Quadruple the pay, right?” Rory asked. “You said if things went haywire, then we’d get—”

 
Impatience skittered across Tony’s nerve endings. “Damnit, Rory!” he thundered. “When in all our years together have you ever known me to go back on my word? Besides, it’s your ass on the line as much as it is mine if the authorities get their hands on the bodies of your men.”

  “Consider it done then,” Rory said. “Just know it’ll take some time. The place is a fort, so I can’t use standard tactics. I’ll have to put my men in the water and have them sneak onto the island, past the seawall, through the moat, and then inside the curtain wall.”

  “Just hurry,” Tony snarled. “You don’t want the Coast Guard getting there before you.”

  “According to the radio transmission, we should have some time,” Rory assured him. “The closest cutter is a few hours out.”

  “Good. Great. Call me when it’s done.” And with that, he signed off and faced Gene.

  “Wh-what the hell is goin’ on, Tony?” All the color had drained from Gene’s face. And by the time Tony filled Gene in on what had transpired on the island, Gene’s paleness had taken on a definite bluish tinge.

  “So…” Gene said, only to stop and swallow and suck in a ragged breath. “We just…we just have to cut our losses, right?”

  Oh! Tony wanted to reach up and strangle him. Cut our losses? Cut our losses! Are you nuts?

  “Wrong,” he gritted. “We see it through.”

  “See it through?” Gene asked incredulously. “How the hell do you plan to—”

  “I told you I prepared for every contingency.” Tony fisted his hands so tightly he knew he was ruining his latest manicure and leaving crescent moon cuts on his palms.

  “You prepared for there to be two armed men on the island who—”

  “Not that precisely,” Tony interrupted again. “But something, anything, like it. My guys are sending in a second team.”

  Gene blinked and drew back as if Tony’s words had physical force behind them. “A second team?”

  Tony nodded. “A larger, better-armed team.”

  “Better armed?” Gene spat the words as if they tasted rancid on his tongue. He grabbed the phone and thrust it at Tony’s face. “Call them back! Tell them it’s off! It’s too dangerous!”

  Tony slid a glance to the man standing by the cabin door and subtly dipped his chin. The mercenary began a stealthy journey in their direction.

  “It’s done, Gene,” Tony said, reaching nonchalantly for his highball glass. “The wheels are already in motion.”

  “Well, apply the goddamned brakes!” Gene yelled, his voice echoing over the gently lapping waves. “You can’t be serious about sendin’ in more men. They could turn that island into a war zone!”

  “If that’s what it takes to get the job done.” Tony took a sip of his drink, grimacing because the melting ice had watered it down.

  “If that’s what it t-takes?” Gene sputtered, his face having gone from blue to fire-engine red. That vein in his forehead was pulsing again.

  “Yes!” Tony yelled, having reached the end of his patience. His nerves were shot. His certainty of success had dropped from one hundred percent to something more like fifty-fifty. And Gene was such an idiot that he actually thought they could call it off. “Even if we can’t get Maddy and the girls, we have to retrieve those dead bodies. Don’t you get that? Don’t you understand? If the authorities get their hands on those bodies, they’ll lead back to Rory. Rory leads back to me. I lead back to you. If we don’t finish this, we won’t just be looking at a failed business, we’ll be looking at an eight-by-ten!”

  “I don’t care!” Gene shrieked. “Maddy’s on that island!”

  “You may not care!” Tony screamed, pushing to his feet and forcing Gene to stumble back. “But I do! I’m not losing everything just because you don’t have the stomach to follow through when the going gets tough!”

  “No!” Gene bellowed and lunged for him, hands curled into claws.

  Rory’s man moved like a flash, tackling Gene to the deck before Gene could lay a finger on Tony.

  “Get off me!” Gene howled, writhing ineffectually as the mercenary yanked Gene’s arms behind his back and secured them with the bright-orange zip tie he pulled from the pocket of his shorts.

  “Take him down to one of the berths,” Tony said, looking at the Stetson that had flown off Gene’s head to land at his feet. With a curl of his lip, he kicked it off the back of the boat and watched the waves happily embrace it, tugging it along in the direction of their tidal pull. “Tie him to the bed and gag him.”

  * * *

  8:59 p.m.…

  “Okay, so y’all keep your eyes peeled for any approachin’ boats. I’ll go help Bran keep an eye on things over by the lighthouse,” Maddy told the girls once she found them a spot atop the parapets where they had an unobstructed view of the sea around the island.

  “Right, Miss Maddy,” Louisa said. “You go help Bran over on the other side. Because your face on his face will be so helpful.”

  “L-Louisa Sanchez,” Maddy sputtered. “Of all the things to say.”

  “Do ya deny it?” Sally Mae asked, leaning back against an old cannon that no longer had the ability to defend the crumbling garrison. There was enough light filtering up from the spotlight on the seawall below them to show the teasing glint in the girl’s eyes. It gave Maddy hope that the teens wouldn’t be too scarred by what they’d experienced this night.

  Kids are resilient, right? They bounce back?

  “Deny what?” she asked as innocently as she could, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her T-shirt.

  “Deny that you’re hot to trot for SEAL McStudly,” Donna said.

  Maddy pulled a face. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Totally,” Donna said. “But, yo, that’s okay, Miss Maddy. He’s that obvious too. Way to go. Big-time score. He’s super hot.”

  “Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” Maddy patted the air. “Are y’all sayin’ you think Bran…”

  She didn’t finish. She wasn’t sure how to. Do y’all think Bran really likes me? just sounded so…high school girls’ locker room.

  Well, look who you’re talkin’ to.

  “Wants to butter your muffin?” Sally Mae said, causing Maddy to blink. “Yes. We definitely think he wants to do just that.”

  “Sally Mae Winchester! And here I thought you were the shy one!”

  Sally Mae snickered.

  “Good Lord.” Maddy shook her head. “Your parents are goin’ to kill me. Not only did I nearly get y’all kidnapped, but I also got you talkin’ about butter and muffins. Which…ew. That’s a disgustin’ euphemism when you stop and think about it. But more important, it’s official. I am the worst chaperone in the history of the world. The universe!”

  “Please,” Louisa scoffed. “We’ve known about buttered muffins for quite some time. In fact, I venture to guess some of us have even had our muff—”

  “La-la-la!” Maddy sang, plugging her ears. “I’m ignorin’ all y’all. You don’t exist. This conversation never happened.”

  “Come on, Miss Maddy,” Sally Mae said after Maddy dropped her hands. “After everything that’s happened tonight, don’t we deserve a little fun?”

  And suddenly all Maddy’s guilt and self-reproach bubbled to the surface, making the skin across her face and shoulders itch. “I’m so sorry, girls. Sorry for everything.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Louisa was quick to assure her, grabbing her hand.

  Maddy squeezed her fingers. “But I chose this island adventure because I…because I…”

  “Wanted to get close to SEAL McStudly,” Donna finished for her. “Yo, that took us about two seconds to figure out once we saw you with him.”

  “And we certainly don’t blame ya for it,” Sally Mae piped up. “After all, the man is a triple threat.”

  “What does that mean?” Maddy asked. />
  “Tall, dark, and handsome,” the three of them chimed at once.

  Maddy made a face. “I know, right? It should be against the law or somethin’. Two out of the three? Sure. But three out of the three?”

  “So go on,” Louisa encouraged. “Go make like Paula Abdul.”

  “I’m afraid to ask…”

  “Get your groove on.”

  “Were you even alive when that song came out?” she demanded.

  “We are the digital generation,” Sally Mae said. “All media, past and present, is at our fingertips.”

  “I don’t know whether to be terrified or impressed,” Maddy admitted.

  “Do you guys suddenly get the impression she’s stalling?” Donna interjected.

  “You’re totally right,” Louisa agreed. “Hey, Miss Maddy, Colonel Sanders called. He wants you back on the job.”

  Maddy blinked. “And now I’m lost again.”

  “You know”—Louisa rolled her hand—“Colonel Sanders. Kentucky Fried Chicken?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So we’re sayin’ that now that ya know SEAL McStudly wants to butter your muffin, you’re bein’ a total chicken,” Sally Mae finished.

  “I’m not being a chicken,” Maddy insisted.

  “Then go make like Paula Abdul,” Louisa challenged.

  “I am goin’ to help him with lookout duty,” Maddy insisted haughtily, sniffing like the Queen of England. “There will be no Paula Abdul-ing about it.”

  “Bok, bok, bok!” Louisa said.

  “Fine! I’m goin’!” Maddy turned on her heels and fled like the lily-livered coward she was. When the sound of giggles followed her, a grin tugged at her lips. It was good hearing the teens laughing.

  Even if it is at my expense.

  Careful on the worn bricks, she made her journey along the top of the parapets, thinking about what the girls had said and feeling a sense of vindication. Despite Bran trying to pretend like there was nothing between them, it was obvious to everyone—including three teens—that, in fact, there was.

  Fueled by that knowledge, she lifted her face to the warm wind. The sea had a particular aroma at night. There were still the smells of salt water and fish. But underneath that was something sweeter. Something older. Something darker and more mysterious.