by Amy Gamet
He wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts before picking up the wire cutters. He’d had plenty of time to study the structure of the bomb and it looked simple enough. Problem was, looks could be deceiving.
He’d given Charlotte a casual squeeze before heading back in here alone, but there was nothing casual about that squeeze in his mind. He had every intention of cutting a wire and walking back out of this room, but in his experience, very few soldiers intended to die.
The life or death nature of what he was about to do colored the lens through which he looked at the last two days. He’d been a solitary man all his life, a solitary man who enjoyed a hell of a lot of company. But none of those women really got inside, not to the part of him that counted, the part of him that was more than the funny guy who liked to have a good time.
And Charlotte did?
She really had, with her carefree and sexy ways, her foul mouth, and her in-your-face attitude that made him smile. It seemed crazy. Two days ago he’d been pushing her away; now he was afraid he might never want to let go.
Chill out. First things first. Defuse this sucker, then worry about Charlotte.
But since his BUD/s days, he’d had a tradition. He’d make a wish before he made the all-important cut. If he lived through it, he might get what he asked for, a lot like blowing out his birthday candles.
Cowboy took his wire cutters and positioned them over the wire. An image of Charlotte’s sweet face came to his mind. He wanted more of her beyond this week, beyond this ship, beyond just sex. If he made it through this one, he wanted to give them a try.
He kept his eyes open as he squeezed the handles. The cutters snapped together with a quiet click, the timer went dark, and Cowboy exhaled the breath he’d been holding.
The bomb was deactivated.
21
Charlotte stood with the others in a hallway far from the theater, telling herself Cowboy knew what he was doing. She knew that was true, but she still wanted to bite her fingernails to the quick like she used to when she was younger, and she crossed her arms over her chest to keep from doing it.
“He’s going to be okay,” said Abby. “He does this for a living. He knows what he’s doing.”
Charlotte nodded noncommittally. She and Harrison exchanged a knowing look. Cowboy was an expert, but even that provided little comfort. At this very moment, Leo was defusing a bomb that had the power to kill him.
She felt the urge to cry and bit down on her lip to stifle it. He was such a great guy. The world needed him to be okay. She needed him to be okay.
He’s fine. He knows what he’s doing. He’s a Navy SEAL, for God’s sake.
Her eyes closed. She willed him to walk around the corner so she could throw her arms around him and squeeze him tightly. How she loved their night of passion and the easy comfort between them. He felt good by her side, as if he was meant to be there and had always been so. Already she knew her bed would feel empty without him, the nights both longer and cold.
Maybe we can see each other after this cruise.
That was not part of the plan, but hope lit in her chest like a distant candle, small and far away but visible in the darkness. Wasn’t he enjoying their time together, too? Surely it was possible he would want it to continue.
She wanted it more than she had any right to want anything, and the intensity of her longing frightened her. Since her divorce, she’d tried to embrace being alone. She’d never done that before, hopping from one boyfriend to another until she’d married Rick her senior year of high school, and she didn’t expect to want another man in her life so soon.
But I do.
Cowboy's voice startled her. “Piece of cake.”
Charlotte’s eyes flew open and she ran to him, her arms open wide. Then he was against her, his body solid and whole, and the tears she had been struggling to contain stung her eyes. “You stupid shit,” she said, punching his arm. “I thought you could be dead.”
Cowboy chuckled. “Don’t mince words, Charlotte. Tell me what you really think.”
Abby thumped Cowboy on the back. “Great job, Leo.”
Charlotte smiled against Cowboy’s neck. “You’re all sweaty.”
“That happens when your life flashes before your eyes.”
She let him go and looked into his smiling face. He was beautiful, and he was alive. She took a deep breath and exhaled with relief. “You should take me to dinner after all of this is over.”
“Should I?”
Oh, fuck.
She’d crossed the line, stepped out of the box, violated their unspoken agreement. She had offered him a fling — sex, and only sex — not a relationship and certainly not a commitment. Although she wanted to tell herself it was just dinner, she knew she was asking for more than that and it was clear as day to both of them. Who could blame Cowboy for feeling blindsided?
“Never mind. You don’t have to,” she said.
“Relax.” He smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“You were?”
“Yep.”
Between him being alive and him wanting to date her, Charlotte thought her heart might burst.
A quick, rhythmic thump reverberated through the ship, slowly getting louder. “What is that?” asked Harrison.
Cowboy’s eyes went wide. “Helicopter.” He ran down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, “HERO Force is here.”
22
An enormous rotor spun atop the chopper, interrupting the spray of rain like an umbrella. The first mate stared disbelieving out the window of the bridge as the helicopter hovered in front of him. His eyes fell to the green helipad below, illuminated by lights and clearly visible despite the weather.
Anger surged through his bloodstream. They had no right to board this ship. He moved to the controls. If he could slow the ship down enough at the right moment, they would miss the helipad and go over the bow, right under the ship if he was lucky.
He screamed in impotent frustration when the controls failed to respond to his touch. Of course, all control had been taken over by the second bridge, and the irony that he now needed that power back at the helm was not lost on him.
He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket. “There is a chopper landing on the bow. Send two men to shoot it down, now. They must not be permitted to board the ship!”
The door to the bridge opened behind him and he spun around.
“What can I do?” asked Abby.
He exhaled with a huff. “Go to the dance club. They’ll need your help there.”
“But the chopper! These men are from HERO Force—”
“I will take care of them.”
She bowed her head and left the room. He turned back in time to watch his first man go down. His slammed his open hand on the console. He should be out there himself. No one else could be trusted to take out the men in the helicopter.
They were so close he could feel it. He looked at his watch.
Just over an hour until the first bombs went off. The passengers would panic and the damaged vessel would limp to the closest port, Nassau in the Bahamas, where thousands of tourists sat waiting on the beach, their cameras close at hand.
The destruction of the Gem of the Seas would go down in history forever as one of the most spectacular terrorist acts of all time.
“Kill them,” he said, peering through the rain to his man in the shadows below. No sooner had he thought the words than his second man fell to the ground, just as the other had done. “No!”
He pulled his weapon from his holster.
“Don’t shoot!”
The first mate’s head whipped around to see the captain standing in the open doorway. He swallowed hard, his gun pointed at the ceiling. “They are boarding us. A helicopter has landed on the bow and they are boarding us!”
The captain moved to the window. “It’s HERO Force. You knew they were coming.”
“They shot two of our men!”
“I don’t understand.” The captain picked
up the microphone and reached for the intercom switch. “We have to warn the passengers and get help on the deck.”
The first mate flicked the captain’s hand away from the switch, unsure if the men had cut the intercom wires, too. “No. You can’t do that.”
“I am this ship’s captain and I will handle the situation as I see fit.” He flipped on the microphone and opened his mouth to speak.
The first mate opened fire, the gunshot echoing through the ship on the public address system as the captain fell to the floor.
“I am in charge now,” said the first mate. He looked back at the helicopter on the bow, several men standing on the helipad in the rain. HERO Force. They were not part of the plan. He’d worked hard to ensure the mainland didn’t know what was happening on the ship.
He pulled out his walkie-talkie. “Turn out the lights and all but the emergency generator. Set a course for Nassau, full speed ahead.” He pocketed the walkie-talkie and pulled the microphone from the captain’s unmoving hand and watched the ship go dark around him.
“Attention. This is your captain speaking. We have experienced the failure of our main generator. Not to worry, everything on the ship is mechanically sound, but we’ll be running on emergency power until we get the problem fixed in port. This means emergency lighting in the hallways and staterooms. I ask that you stay confined to your cabins throughout the night. We will be docking in Nassau in the morning for repairs.”
He stepped over the captain’s body before turning in a slow circle for one last look at the bridge. “It’s hard to believe we can control all this from a disco.” He laughed, grabbing his hat, and walked out of the room.
23
Rain fell down in sheets, reducing visibility. The flight from the U.S.S. Rapture had taken longer than anticipated due to the conditions, which had Matteo trying to land the bird in the waning light of day.
“Faster. They’ve gotta be going twenty-five, twenty-eight knots,” said Jax into his headset, looking out the window of the chopper.
“Roger that,” said Matteo. He was flying fifty yards in front of the cruise ship and a hundred feet up, trying to match its speed.
“It’s a new ship,” said Logan. “Faster than the rest of the fleet. I failed to take that into consideration.”
Red made some adjustments and the chopper picked up speed. “You’re just lucky I’m good at this shit,” he said.
Jax eyeballed the cruise ship out the window. The boat was no longer gaining on them. “That’s a match.”
“Roger that. I’m going down.”
They were close enough now for Jax to clearly see the deck. There was no one on the helipad and he was relieved they would have a clear landing. His eyes moved up to the row of windows on the highest part of the ship — the bridge. He hoped whoever was in there would take kindly to the company, but he knew better than to assume that was the case.
His hands clenched the AK-47 in his lap. He didn’t know which would be touchier — this landing or the subsequent reaction to their arrival. While he didn’t anticipate stepping out of the chopper with his weapon, he needed it just to make sure they could land safely.
The chopper slipped lower in the sky, its rotors now below the bridge. Jax could make out people in the windows, all staring, some moving quickly.
Just keep that helipad clear for us, and everything else will take care of itself.
The slightest movement on the deck near the helipad had him straining his eyes in the heavy rain. He reached for his binoculars and trained them on the ship. “Son of a bitch. We’ve got company.”
“Friendlies?” asked Hawk.
“He’s got a weapon. That makes him a tango.”
The sound of Hawk and Logan slamming loaded magazines into rifles could be heard over the thunderous roar of the helicopter.
“Hold your fire,” said Jax. “If I need to take him out I will.”
“Maybe he just wants to show us his nice new gun,” said Hawk.
Jax snapped. “Maybe if we fire on them before we even land this bird they’ll welcome us with open arms.”
A second figure took cover near the helipad.
“Another tango at four o’clock,” said Hawk.
“I see him,” said Jax.
Matteo stopped his descent. “What do you want me to do?”
The first man was clearly visible now, his arms extended away from his body, a firearm between them. Jax begrudgingly raised his AK-47. He’d hoped their landing would go easily. Now he was being forced to attack.
Suddenly, the man fell to the ground, a dark stain spreading on his chest. “Somebody else shot him.” Jax searched fervently for the shooter. “There!” he said. In the shadows beside the helipad was a figure he hadn’t seen before. The second tango went down.
The man in the shadows stepped forward into the light and relief flooded through Jax. “It’s Cowboy,” he said. “Thank God. Let’s get this bird out of the sky.”
Red landed dead center on the helipad, soft as a leaf falling to the ground. “I told you I was good at this shit.” He pressed a series of buttons and the screaming of the rotors slowed and then stopped.
Cowboy approached the chopper as the men climbed onto the helipad.
“Evenin’,” Cowboy said, reaching out to shake Jax’s hand. “’Bout time you guys made it.”
“Where’s Abby Granger?” asked Jax.
“Downstairs.”
“Bad news,” said Logan. “The real Abby was found murdered a few hours ago. This one is an imposter.”
“What? I left her alone with your sister!”
Cowboy ran as fast as he could, the others right behind him. His mind was trying to make sense of this new information, but his animal mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: he had to get to Charlotte, now.
He knew he should have insisted she stay in her stateroom, but instead he’d let her help and put her directly in harm’s way. But she was the one who found the bomb. If it weren’t for her, they’d still be looking and would probably never find it.
I just need her to be okay.
He wanted to scream as he raced around stairwell corners, pulling himself forward with his arms on the railings. It was dark, emergency lighting the only thing shining. He pushed through the door to the sixth floor, where he’d seen Charlotte last, and there she stood, talking to Harrison, Abby nowhere in sight.
“Charlotte!” he yelled, still running toward her, needing to feel her in his arms. He wrapped her in his embrace. “Are you okay? Where’s Abby?”
“I don’t know where she went, but I’m fine. Why?” Her body went rigid and she pulled away. “Hi, Logan.”
Cowboy had never seen Logan look so furious. Come to think of it, he’d never even seen the kid angry.
“What are you doing here?” he asked his sister.
“You said I should go on a vacation…”
“That woman you were just with? Abby? She’s an imposter. The real Abby was killed so this one could come on this ship.”
“Oh, my God,” said Charlotte.
Logan gestured to Cowboy. “And he just took out two tangos who were trying to shoot our chopper out of the sky.”
She turned to Leo, her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”
“He’s fine,” snapped Logan. “Because this is his job. This is what he’s trained to do. But you have no business being here, Charlotte. None at all.” He turned to Cowboy. “Where the fuck do you get off bringing my sister on a HERO Force mission? She could have been killed, for Christ’s sake. She still could be.”
Charlotte interrupted. “It’s not his fault. He—”
Cowboy held up his hand to stop her. “You’re right, Doc. I screwed up. I made a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”
24
Logan searched through hundreds of lines of code, looking for a back door into the ship’s computer system. He was so angry he could spit. It was one thing for him to be on the ship risking his life, but his sister
had no business being here.
All because she went behind his back and did something she knew full well he wouldn't appreciate.
“Are you going to talk to me?” she asked. “Or do you need me to be quiet so you can work?”
He could do what he was doing now in his sleep. Until he managed to find a way in, this was nothing more than the tedious work of a hacker. “Why did you do it?”
She was quiet, and the tap of his fingers on the keys was harder than it needed to be, each movement a staccato peck of frustration.
“I'm sorry, Logan.”
“I asked you why.”
“I can't explain it to you. You wouldn't understand what it's been like for me lately.”
He shot her a look before turning back to his computer screen. “I wouldn't understand? Who's been by your side since Rick walked out of your life? Who's been trying to make it better?”
“It isn't your problem to fix. It’s mine.” She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, resigned to the need for this conversation. “Being married to him did something to me, Logan. It made me think I was less than.”
“Less than what?”
“Less than everything. I wasn't good enough anymore. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't funny. He didn't want to be around me. Our friends were his friends, not mine, and they made it clear they didn't really like me. Sometimes they even made it clear my husband didn't, either.”
“Then why did you stay with that son of a bitch? You could have left him any time, but you didn't.”
“That's the problem. When I was there, living like that, I didn't understand it was him. I really thought it was me, that everything I believed before was the lie. That's what abuse does to you.”
Logan stared at her again. “Did he hit you?”
“No. But this was just as bad.”
“What does any of this have to do with Cowboy?”