Benicio jerked Anya closer to him. “I don’t believe you. Get the laptop and turn it on.”
Stryker turned slowly and marched to the corner at an angle, keeping his eye on Benicio. He grabbed the laptop and turned, walking back toward them with purpose.
Stryker stopped and set the laptop down on top of one of the stairs that led up to the second-story landing. “You can stop,” Benicio said curtly, and he laughed, letting go of Anya so suddenly that she fell to her knees on the floor.
“How do I turn this thing on?”
“You’re serious? You really don’t know?” Benicio began to laugh again. “Puta!” he snapped at Anya. “Go and turn on the laptop. My gun will be on his head the entire time, so make one mistake, and he dies.”
Anya’s gaze connected with Stryker’s, and she saw his strength and determination. Nodding, she made her way forward, drawing in a deep breath.
She reached the laptop and was so close to Stryker, she could smell the scent of his cologne and closed her eyes briefly as the wonderful aroma wrapped itself around her, comforting her. She wanted to say something to him. She wanted to tell him to leave, to get away now. He couldn’t save her. No one could. And if he stayed any longer, he would be dead too.
“Turn on the damn thing and get back to me!”
“Just do as I say,” Stryker said without moving his lips.
“What?” Anya was confused.
“Get down!” Stryker shouted, and he dove to the side, pulling a pistol from the side holster he had hidden beneath a casual vest. A bullet pinged the metal railing of the stairs.
The sound of gunfire tore through the air. Anya rolled onto her stomach. Stryker had taken up a position behind a thick pillar. Benicio was searching for a safe place, and his gaze slammed into hers.
Suddenly Benicio ran toward her, his hand holding the gun level at her head. “Anya, run!” Stryker shouted out, and her quivering muscles propelled her into motion, but not fast enough.
Benicio grabbed her again, pressing the gun against her chin. “You stupid little whore!” he spat, his anger unlike anything she had seen. “I should have known you would do something so foolish. Now you’re going to die.”
Before he could pull the trigger, she slammed her fist into his nose, and he yelled out in surprise. He reached for his nose as it spurted blood. Anya couldn’t believe her weak attack had broken his nose.
“Anya!”
She scrambled toward the sound of Stryker’s voice. With an angry growl, Benicio lunged for her, but Stryker was suddenly upon him, slamming his body up into the stairwell. A shot went off. Anya screamed.
Benicio loomed large and angry in front of her. Blood dripped from his nose. She was doing everything in her power to remain focused. Anya was going to kill him with her bare hands if he’d shot Stryker.
* * *
It was dark underneath the stairwell as the sun was beginning to set. Too dark for him to see the gun that he’d knocked free of Benicio’s hands. Silently he pulled himself from under the stairs. His blood went cold then flaming hot as he saw Benicio advancing on Anya. He had to stop him. He had never felt as protective of a woman as he felt at that moment. Anya was his. He would do anything to keep her safe.
He threw his entire weight forward and slammed into Benicio.
They collided with fists flying. He slammed his fist into the nose Anya had already broken. Benicio’s fist collided with his ribs, and he grunted at the pain. He was going to destroy him. Benicio had hurt Anya. His beautiful, precious Anya. And who knew what else he had done?
Stryker threw an uppercut that sent Benicio staggering backwards. Where was Anya?
Anya came flying from the corner, tackling Benicio on the back. He stumbled under the onslaught and tried to free himself from her clutches. She grabbed at his hair and shoved him hard…directly into Stryker’s arms.
“It’s your turn to answer questions,” Stryker growled at him, pinning his arms behind his back and wrestling him to the ground. “Be careful what you do now, Benicio. There’s a man outside who’s had a bead drawn on you for the last few minutes. He can take you down anytime I give him the signal.”
“Then give him the fucking signal already,” Benicio barked. Hatred and something else was in his eyes. Was it fear? Benicio didn’t strike him as the type of person who was scared of anything, not even death. Perhaps it wasn’t what he was scared of, but who.
“Tell me who you’re working for, Benicio.”
And there it was. His eyes flooded with fear and darted around him in desperation. Abruptly, he seemed to gather himself again, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he glared up at Stryker. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Bullshit.”
“You fucking Americans think you’re so much better. You’re worthless.”
Stryker stood, keeping one foot on Benicio’s hand. He glanced back at Anya. “Are you all right?”
Instead of replying, her eyes widened in fear, and his gaze flew back to Benicio. He was struggling, reaching for something near him. When his fingers circled around the butt of the handgun, Stryker lunged.
He grabbed Benicio’s hand, smacking it down against the concrete to knock the gun from his grip. Stryker wanted to pound the man’s skull into the cement. But he needed answers more than anything. Killing Benicio wasn’t going to give him what he needed.
Suddenly the sound of boots on the cement drew his attention, and his team was rushing in.
“Stryker!” Anya screamed, her voice hoarse and raw.
In slow motion he saw Benicio smile, saw him draw his hand upwards. And then bullets struck Benicio from several directions as his team went in for the kill. “No!” Stryker yelled, as Benicio’s head fell backwards, the gun dropping from his hand. Stryker grabbed his collar. “Who do you work for? Who? Answer me, damn you!”
Benicio didn’t answer. Stryker released his grip on him and let the man’s lifeless body fall.
Hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him away from Benicio’s body. “Where is Anya?” he asked, desperate to know she was safe.
“Stryker!” she cried out, pushing through the men to reach him. She threw herself into his arms, holding him tightly, so tightly his bruised ribs protested but his heart soared. “You’re okay? You’re not shot?”
He glanced down. “I’m not shot.” He smiled at her hesitantly, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. “And you? He didn’t… Did he hurt you, bella?”
She shook her head. “I had to be strong. I knew he wanted to hurt you more than me. I was able to tranquilize him—”
“You did what?” Phantom looked at her incredulously.
“I-I thought it would help. I didn’t know that you were going to kill him, but I couldn’t take the risk that he would kill any of you…” She swallowed hard and glanced at Benicio’s dead body. “Stryker—I think I should sit down…” He caught her in his arms as she crumpled.
“Phantom?” Stryker said, his voice sounding frantic even to his own ears. If the bastard had hurt her… If he had done anything to her…
“She’s just passed out. Probably from shock. We’re taking both of you to the hospital to get looked at.”
When Stryker began to groan, he was silenced by a wave of Phantom’s hand. “You want to make sure she’s all right, don’t you? And the rest of us would like to make sure you check out as well. Physically, at least. Mentally, we all know the answer to that after this little display of heroism.”
A slight smile tugged at the corner his mouth. Then Anya stirred and whimpered softly in his arms, and he pinned Phantom with a hard look. “Take us to Laredo.”
* * *
They were bruised, battered, and exhausted, and Anya was suffering from mild shock. But she quickly came around as they drove to Laredo, lying in Stryker’s arms. “Bella,” he said softly,
smiling down at her.
“Stryker!” She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. “I was so afraid… I thought you were shot. When I heard the gun go off…” Her voice wavered.
“He missed,” Stryker said. He swallowed hard. “Are you hurt? Did he… Are you hurt in any way?”
“No. I think he enjoyed tormenting me mentally more than anything. I fought him off, and when I gave him the tranquilizer, it slowed everything down.”
“Yeah…about that. Care to explain to me how you tranquilized the man?”
Anya smiled at him, and he wanted nothing more than to be alone with her at that moment, to kiss her and touch her and show her how much she meant to him. “I was able to get my hands on some horse tranquilizer, and I stabbed him in the stomach with it.”
Stryker nearly laughed and shook his head. “Do you have any idea how incredible you are?”
Her smile slowly faded. “Because of you. I fought because of you. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“After he called you, I knew you were going to come looking for me. So, I had to try to incapacitate him somehow before you got there. I couldn’t take the chance that he’d hurt you.”
Stryker felt his throat closing up. She had put herself at risk for him. She could have been hurt, or worse, killed. And all for him. He pulled her close and buried his face against her neck.
“Are we headed back to the clinic?”
“No, Doc, we’re headed to Laredo,” Phantom said from the driver’s seat.
“Laredo? I don’t understand.”
“We want to make sure both of us are okay. Phantom wouldn’t let us get by with his inspection. We’re headed to the hospital.”
“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Her eyes began to search his body frantically.
“Only bumps and bruises. I know I’ll check out fine. You’re the one who gave us a scare when you passed out.”
A blush tinged her cheeks. “I was so afraid that you—it all hit me at once.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Everything will be fine now. You’ll see.”
* * *
As Stryker had predicted, he only suffered from bruises, though some of them were worse than others. One bruise was to his ribs, and that one was a bit more painful. Another on his stomach was already blossoming into a colorful hue that he knew would last for weeks.
The doctors decided to keep Anya overnight for observation as she was still showing signs of shock. Stryker had insisted on staying in her room with her, and the rest of the men had retreated to give them privacy. She had fallen into a deep slumber, and, against his will, he had too.
When he woke up, Buzz and Phantom were walking in, and there was a beautiful arrangement of flowers sitting on the small table at the side of the bed. “Wow, you guys didn’t have to bring her flowers. Just seeing you here is going to be enough of a joy for her.”
“We didn’t bring them. We just got here,” Phantom said, his eyes narrowing.
“Who else would know she’s here?” Stryker demanded in frustration.
“Only our team. There isn’t anyone else.”
“There’s a card in it. Buzz, read it to us.” Phantom nudged Buzz forward.
Buzz worked moisture into his mouth, and then began to read off the card: Roses are red, violets are blue, you may have won the battle, but you can’t win the war too. Stryker and team, this one is for you.
“Fuck!” Phantom pulled out his phone and immediately began to dial.
“Who are you calling?” Stryker demanded with ferocity. They couldn’t risk any further exposure than they already had. Someone knew about their location, and it could have been given up by anyone—doctors, nurses, general staff—it would be virtually impossible to identify who had leaked the information.
“I’m calling Admiral Haslett. He needs to send down protection for the two of you.”
Stryker groaned, but he knew it was the right thing to do. They needed to let the navy know what was going on. He just wished he had more answers than questions.
* * *
The navy reacted quickly to the news. Two masters-at-arms showed up within hours of Phantom making the phone call. Less than an hour after that, much to Stryker’s surprise, Admiral Haslett arrived and cleared the room of everyone except him and Anya. He looked at Anya for several minutes, and the way Stryker was holding her hand, then grunted.
Anya had awoken for a couple of hours and chatted with the men, oblivious to their new concerns. Later in the morning, she had slowly drifted back to sleep. Stryker hoped his conversation with the admiral wouldn’t wake her.
“I didn’t quite believe you when you told me you had fallen for a woman here. Now I have no doubt.” Admiral Haslett gave him a wry smile.
“Yes, sir. I care for her very much.”
“How did she react when you told her about being a SEAL?”
“Better than I expected. She seems ready to embrace who I really am.”
“I’m concerned that someone breached your security around the ranch in order to take photos of you and the team.” The admiral’s grin turned to a frown.
“Yes, sir. It shocked me just as much. I don’t know what anyone had to gain from such a thing other than to let us know we’re being watched. We’ve tightened our security and haven’t had any breaches since.”
“That you know of,” the admiral said, his voice tight with frustration.
“Correct, sir.”
“Brusco informed me about all of the photos being sent to her.”
“Brusco and Snap questioned her intensively. But there was no concrete evidence to suggest she was a spy or was anything more than an innocent civilian caught in the crosshairs.”
“Not an innocent civilian caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was targeted. Same as you were, from what I can tell.”
“Yes, well, every member of my team was also in those photos. So I feel it is a threat to my entire team. Someone out there is trying to scare us away, but it isn’t going to work.”
Admiral Haslett was silent for several moments as he stared at Anya. “That bastard really traumatized her, didn’t he? How the hell did he find out about her?”
“I believe it’s all my fault. I went to see her when we got back from the mission, and I suspect he was following me. I led him straight to her.”
“That’s one of the risks you take when you get involved with a civilian. What do you plan to do now?”
“I hope I can convince her to come live out on the ranch with us, that is, if she’ll still have me. And we need to hire someone to work at her clinic with her who will be able to defend her if things ever go sideways again.”
“I have a new man who just came off a mission. He’d be the ideal sailor to put in a role like that with her.”
Stryker lifted an eyebrow. “You’re going to help me with this, sir?”
“Unless you don’t want me to.” Admiral Haslett pursed his lips and appraised Stryker with knowing eyes.
“No, no, sir. I greatly appreciate it.”
Admiral Haslett sighed, then sat in the uncomfortable reclining chair. “I reviewed your full report this morning. It goes on like a bad movie script. But I could read between the lines and gather that you think there’s someone else out there…someone pulling the strings on this cartel and possibly other operations.” He looked down at his hat in his hands, then finally back up at Stryker. “I have a few suspicions of my own, but it’s nothing I can put on paper. Why don’t you tell me what you think is going on, and then I’ll tell you my version of this sordid story.”
Chapter 29
Anya woke up slowly, feeling the need to stretch out all the aches in her body. She knew her panic attack had been vicious, but she h
adn’t realized how much it would leave her aching. She opened her eyes a crack and saw Stryker’s handsome face staring back at her. Memories poured back, and she sighed heavily.
“I think he wanted to die,” she said softly, watching his face.
He lifted his eyebrows, showing surprise at her choice of topics. “What makes you say that?”
“Because he would prefer to die than answer any of your questions. He was terrified of them.”
“You caught on to that too, huh? You’re incredibly perceptive. I may be able to convert you into being a spy.”
“No.” Anya shook her head adamantly. “No, I don’t want to have anything to do with that. I’m happy just supporting you from the sidelines.”
His smile faded, and he stroked her hair back off her forehead. “Do you know what you’re saying, Anya?”
Her eyes were beginning to droop, and she gave him a hesitant smile. “Am I saying the wrong thing again? It seems I have a terrific knack for that.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Rest, bella. If you have recovered enough, we may be able to take you home this afternoon. Sleep. Heal.”
She clung to his hand against her cheek as she slipped off into a refreshing slumber.
* * *
Anya had a thousand thoughts running through her mind and didn’t know which one to address first. Stryker had told her about the destruction to her clinic, and she knew it would take weeks for her to get it back in order.
She hadn’t even been able to tell the full story to Stryker yet. He knew what he’d walked into when he had come into the mill. But he didn’t know what had happened before that. Did they know she had shot Benicio and then stitched him up? Did they think she was weak and a failure for falling prey to him? How much would he even want to know? One step at a time. Crawling, if I have to. I will not let that bastard define who I am as a person. He can no longer hurt me.
When they turned down the dirt road that would take them to the ranch, Anya was jarred back to the present. “I thought you were taking me back to the clinic?” She leaned forward in her seat, looking at Stryker and Phantom, her head pivoting back and forth.
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