If Ben could take the man out, then he could also take his vehicle and maybe even his uniform. He just had to do it without alerting to his presence. He preferred to enter the house and find Chasey without setting off alarms. Or, at least, setting off as few as he could. This could be his best chance to get inside.
He crept up behind the man and hit him in the head with the butt of his gun—hard enough to stun him but not to kill him, just as another man had done to him in the alley a handful of hours ago. Ben took the guy’s hat, gun and boots.
Now he looked like the bad guys. He didn’t know how far that would get him, but he would do his best to use it to his advantage.
Dawson’s man trussed and loaded in the back of the SUV, Ben steered toward the house. He parked behind two other SUVs. Uncertainty accosted him. How many men would he find inside? Was he making a mistake gaining access this way? He might be walking into a trap—but staying put wouldn’t guarantee his safety, either. For better or for worse, he needed to move forward. He hopped out of the SUV and started around the house.
As a deputy US marshal and inspector, Ben had never found himself party to a covert military operation, let alone as a mercenary. But he imagined the tension and adrenaline he felt now was one that any special forces operative would understand.
A radio squawked—not the one he’d brought for his team, but one from the guy whose place and gear he’d taken. He couldn’t understand the question, and doubted anyone could understand him in the storm, but the voice sounded thickly accented.
“Checking the perimeter!” he shouted in reply, allowing the wind to glance off the radio, as well.
He jogged around the house, his weapon at the ready, looking for an entry point. A kitchen maybe. But everything appeared to be locked down tight.
A gust of wind shoved him and he flattened against the wall.
A door opened and a guy dressed like him waved him inside. He pushed from the wall as the rain pelted down. Keeping his head low, he jogged forward. Once inside, the force of the wind slammed the door behind them both. Ben shook the water out of his face.
“Thanks, buddy.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
Ben belted him in the face with the butt of his gun and quickly knocked him out. After trussing this henchman, as well—gagging him and binding his hands and feet—Ben dragged the man down the hall until he found an empty room. He stuck him inside then removed the man’s weapons and communication equipment. He left the guard and hurried down the hallway, leaving a trail of water behind him. Wary now of the noise it could make, Ben turned his radio down.
One of his three radios squawked, the voice coming in loud and clear inside the house. Ben jogged back to the entrance he’d used minutes before and, through sheer force of will, opened it, letting the wind howl through to mask his voice as he replied on the radio again.
“Checking the perimeter!” He went with that because it had worked the first time.
Now, time to ignore the radios and find Chasey and her brother. He spotted a set of stairs that led to a lower level. A basement. A lab where they conducted experiments? He shuddered at the thought. Or a dungeon? A prison? Where would Dawson keep the niece who had betrayed him?
Ben crept down the stairwell and found the lower level dimly lit and empty. His hopes sank. If he could have grabbed Chasey and her brother down here, with no one else around to spot them, they could have escaped out the back and taken the SUV.
Wanting to check out the last room, he crept along the wall, wary of what might be hiding behind the shadowed corners. As soon as he stepped across the threshold of the final room, he heard a swoosh. His skin tingled and he instinctively ducked—but not quite fast enough. Pain ignited in his back and pushed him forward. He rolled and aimed his weapon.
She stood over him with a bat.
Recognition flooded him and he lowered his weapon.
“Chasey, it’s me!”
EIGHTEEN
Chasey had lifted the bat, prepared to drive it down into the head of what she took for another one of her uncle’s guards, hoping to knock him unconscious. Then she would grab his guns and radios and get out of there. She’d already started forward with the bat and couldn’t stop her momentum even as recognition hit. Fortunately, Ben rolled out of the way.
The bat hit the floor as she gasped. “Ben!”
She’d feared he was dead. It seemed impossibly wonderful that he was alive and here, that he’d come for her. She dropped to her knees, noticing his face twisted in pain. Chasey grabbed his shoulders. “I hurt you. I’m so sorry. I thought you were—” She looked him up and down. “You kind of look like the guys guarding us.”
“That’s because I’ve taken a couple of them out and put on some of their gear.” He gripped her shoulders. “Are you okay? And Brighton. Have you seen him? Is he okay?”
Brighton stepped out of the shadows and Ben’s eyes widened at the sight of him. “We’re fine,” Chasey assured Ben. “But we want to stay that way and need to get out of here.”
Ben smiled and hugged her to him. “I’m glad I found you.”
In her ear he whispered, “I was so worried, Chasey. So worried.”
“I’m okay. I can hardly believe you’re here.” She eased back to look him in the eyes. “I was so afraid they had killed you back in that alley in Denver. But you’re here. I can’t believe it. You came for us, and in the middle of this horrible storm.”
“It’s going to be okay.” He released her and scrambled to his feet.
“Your uncle. Is he here?”
She nodded.
Ben spoke into a radio. “Send in the troops. I found them. And Dawson is here.”
The troops?
Ben offered his hand to assist her. “Let’s get you out of here. You and Brighton.”
She got to her feet without taking his hand. “Wait, where are you taking us? Do you know where you’re going? Brighton has a plan.”
Ben blinked. Her reaction exactly, but she was quick to speak up in her brother’s defense. “He’s a genius in his own way. A savant. He’s been watching everything ever since he got here, paying attention when others are clueless to what he knows. What he can do.”
“And that...puts him in danger.”
She nodded. “Yes. My uncle never seemed interested in his abilities before, so it never occurred to me. But Brighton told me that’s why my uncle wants him—I still don’t know for what purpose, yet, but I’m beginning to see the bigger picture here. My uncle seems to need Brighton’s gift. But he worried that Brighton would refuse to cooperate. So my uncle brought me here to use against Brighton. He’s using us against each other.” That wasn’t to say that he meant to keep her alive. Maybe he’d still planned to kill her once Brighton finished whatever task he wanted of him.
Chasey could see the confusion on Ben’s face.
“We can talk about all that later.”
She pulled Ben over to the other side of the large room. “Brighton has his plans written and drawn out so there’s no confusion. I’ll show you.”
She tugged him over to the drawing table next to the wall. Ben stared down at the papers and noticed that they detailed the entire layout of the compound, the cameras, security system fail-safe and guard placements. Then there was a broader drawing of the island. Brighton had marked a location of a boat. His plan included escaping the house and getting to the boat. Chasey hadn’t had the heart to tell him they would not be leaving via boat during a hurricane. But if they could escape the compound and hide near the boathouse, waiting to make it out at the first chance they got once the weather cleared, this could work. Her uncle had greatly underestimated Brighton, and it would come back to bite him.
“We couldn’t escape without his help. Even with you being here—unless the troops you speak of are already on the island—we can’t get past t
he guards or alarms or cameras without all of this.” Chasey looked at Ben. “How did you even get inside?”
“I came through the back door.” Ben explained landing in the helicopter then making his way to the house while the two other men hung back and waited for his direction.
A sudden gust of wind buffeted the window and driving rain continued to pound it, underscoring how hard it must have been for Ben’s helicopter to get here.
“They know someone landed, so they are onto the fact that someone is here now. That could mess up our plans to escape,” she said, but then she took Ben’s hand. “Still, I’m glad you’re here, Ben.”
“I’m not so sure you needed me. Looks like Brighton has it all figured out.” He clapped Brighton on the back then recoiled when Brighton frowned. “Sorry, I’ll keep my hands to myself. I just wanted to congratulate you. You’ve done a great job here, buddy.”
“We have to turn off the alarms and get past the security team,” she said. “But now chances are the alarms won’t matter. Sooner or later, they’re going to realize they’re missing team members and that someone has breached their security. They’re going to be looking for us.”
Brighton held up his iPad. “The storm,” it said. Then he shook his head.
Chasey glanced from Brighton to Ben then back. “You mean the intensity of the storm?” She glanced at Ben. “I don’t think he knew about the hurricane or anticipated the intensity of the storm when he made these plans.” She snatched up the papers then folded them. “But it doesn’t matter. I’d rather take my chances out there than stick around here. There’s a village on the other side. We could hide there until we can secure the boat and get out of here.”
“We might not even need to get the boat. We just have to wait for help to come,” Ben said.
“The troops you mentioned?”
“Not exactly troops. The feds.”
“I understand. They want my uncle back.”
Ben squeezed her hand, looking at her earnestly. “I didn’t tell them where you are, Chasey. The only one who knew was my boss—he arranged to get me here. Now that I’ve sent out that message that your uncle’s presence here is confirmed, he’ll be busy notifying everyone else. But you have to admit we need help getting out of this.”
She shrugged. “Yes.”
Would things have turned out differently if she had at least agreed to talk to the marshals about where Brighton had been taken? Would they now be safe? Or was there someone still working on the inside? With her uncle’s connections, she would believe it.
“Come on.” Brighton communicated via his device. “We must leave now.”
“I agree.”
Ben ushered both Chasey and Brighton to the door. Brighton tugged him back.
“He has to lead the way, Ben,” she said. “He knows his way around. He has the plan.”
“Okay. Okay. Let me be on point to run protection, then.” Ben lifted the semiautomatic rifle to emphasize his part, then went ahead of them into the greater room—or dungeon as she’d come to think of it. It was empty and dusty and smelled of mold, after all.
Ben quickly cleared the space.
Brighton moved up the steps, Ben close behind him with the rifle at the ready.
“Expect them to come down here to check on me, so be careful,” she whispered.
The door at the top of the steps to the basement would be the riskiest part. Ben started to push through.
Chasey pulled him back again. “Wait. Brighton is allowed to walk around on his own. Let him go first. No one will suspect him if they see him.”
Ben frowned and shook his head. She could tell he didn’t like this—but it was part of the plan.
The truth was that she didn’t like it, either, even though she knew it was the smart choice. She still struggled to let her brother go as he slipped into the hallway.
Ben waited, his ear pressed to the door. A moment later, he reached to open it.
“Not yet,” she said.
“What?”
“We wait here for him. He’ll be back after he turns off the cameras and security alarms.”
A voice resounded in the hallway on the other side of the door. Someone confronting Brighton? Her heart rate kicked up. He knew his way around. No one should bother him.
“Kelll...yyy.” Brighton had used Chasey’s real name, and his garbled voice—especially when he was mostly nonverbal—struck terror in her.
* * *
That’s it—I’m going in now! Ben refused to wait behind the door and do nothing to help Brighton, especially with the sound of the young man struggling, calling his sister’s name.
He yanked the door open and stepped out into the hallway, instantly moving to aim the rifle at the culprit.
One of Dawson’s hired mercenaries held Brighton by his collar, bullying him.
“Hold it right there!” Ben rushed forward and pointed the gun at the man. “Back away from him.”
The man thrust his radio to his mouth to speak.
Brighton punched him in the nose. Ben grabbed the radio from the henchman and forced him down the steps into the basement. Using the tape and ties he’d brought, he bound yet another goon. Just how many men did Dawson have—and how many more would they run into as they tried to escape?
Lord, please let help come for us in spite of the storm.
The rain and wind bashed even this fortress, which only confirmed his feeling that they were on their own for the next many hours. No one in their right mind would travel in this weather.
Brighton and Chasey had followed him back down.
“We’re wasting time,” she said. “If you have to stop and tie up every man you come across, we’ll never get out of here.”
Ben pulled her and Brighton out of the room and to the steps before he spoke. He didn’t want the man he’d just taken down overhearing and then repeating their plans. “I think we should forget about the alarms and security systems. They don’t matter anymore.”
Brighton’s eyes widened. He typed furiously into his iPad and it spoke for him. “Security cameras everywhere. Outside. At marina. On boat I want to take.”
Ben blew out a breath. He doubted they would even get that far in this storm. But how did he convince Brighton?
Chasey touched his arm. “Please, Brighton has a plan. Let’s trust him.”
Even after what had just happened in the hallway? Supposedly, Brighton was allowed to roam the place. Who knew what other rules and expectations had changed?
“We’re running out of time to get out of here,” Ben said. “Are you sure your plan is still in play?”
Brighton lifted his chin. Ben saw in his eyes that he was sure. Ben also saw how important this was to both Chasey and Brighton.
“We’re doing this Brighton’s way, Ben.” Chasey’s words left no room for argument.
If their minds were made up, all he could do was try to protect them. “Let’s go then. We’re running out of time.”
They crept up the steps and Ben prayed they wouldn’t run into more of the henchmen. In the hallway, he followed Chasey and her brother. Brighton picked up his pace, moving faster than Ben had seen from him before, obviously understanding the urgency.
If they didn’t get out of there in the next few minutes, they would be in trouble.
Escaping in a storm like this on an island was dangerous all on its own. And if they did get out in the next few minutes, they had maybe an hour to find shelter before it was dark.
Brighton opened a door and they followed him down another passageway.
Then he slowed and led them into a closet. What was going on? Ben wondered as he joined them inside. Brighton used a radio that Ben hadn’t realized he’d had and began texting a code into it.
Morse code?
Suddenly the door at the end of the hall opened and t
wo sets of boots ran down the hallway.
Chasey whispered, “It’s your turn, Ben. There should be one man left in that room.”
“What was the plan if I hadn’t showed up?”
She lifted her bat. “It would be on me to take him out.”
“Wait here.”
Ben crept out of the closet and over to the door and banged on it. He kept his head down and hoped that he wouldn’t be recognized as the man who’d gained access.
The door opened and Ben thrust his fist into the man’s face. He fell back. He was down but not out. Ben aimed his weapon and forced the man to ease his hands away from his gun.
Chasey and Brighton rushed into the room. While Ben zipped plastic ties around the guy’s wrists and ankles and tape over his mouth, Brighton got busy at the computer consoles, shutting down the cameras.
Ben glanced at the screens and noticed the hurricane was on top of them in full force. Just what did they think they were going to do outside this structure?
The storm surge alone could bury a good portion of the island, and that wasn’t even taking into account the possible damage from the wind or the rain.
The henchman tied up and no longer dangerous, Ben peered over Brighton’s shoulder. His fingers flew over the keys, shutting the cameras down. Alarms, too. But all it would take would be for someone to walk into this room and turn everything back on.
One last camera remained on. Chasey pointed to the screen. The boat wasn’t on the water but inside a building. Their escape plan was to wait out the storm and, as soon as possible, to get that boat on the water and away from the island. Ben sent a text communication via his radio to the two men who’d come to the island with him. He glanced at Brighton and Chasey, wondering again if they could pull off this plan.
High Stakes Escape Page 16
