Code of Valor

by Lynette Eason

  When she was in the boat, she made her way to the back and sat in the seat farthest away from the driver’s. She set her tennis shoes on the seat next to her and vaguely wondered if, once she was at the bottom of the lake, she could simply unhook the rope and swim away. The thought quickened her heartbeat a tad and she could only pray she’d be brave enough to do it when the opportunity presented itself.

  It didn’t take long for the little boat to make its way out of the cove and into the deeper part of the lake. Emily recognized the hills at the far side of the water as being the ones from Heather’s pictures. The wind whipped the hair around her face and she shivered in spite of the dry suit.

  Once they came to the area Todd deemed the right place, Snake Man cut the motor. And wonder of wonders, the shore wasn’t too far away. Maybe half a mile? She could easily swim that in her suit.

  Snake Man sent the ROV into the water. He moved it in a slow back-and-forth pattern and Todd became more agitated by the minute when nothing showed up.

  “What’s wrong with that thing? Are you sure it’s working?”

  Snake Man shot Todd an irritated glare. “It’s working. It just takes time. This could take a while.”

  “We don’t have a while. I don’t know who followed us out here.”

  “No one followed us. I made sure of that.”

  Todd relaxed a bit at Snake Man’s reassurances, but Emily wasn’t so sure. She’d been watching the shore for anyone who might be a potential source of rescue, and the only thing that caught her attention was the occasional flash of light from a vessel that was keeping its distance. Was someone watching?

  “There,” Snake Man said. “I’ve got it.”

  A huge breath whooshed from Todd. “Great.” He nodded to Emily. “Get the helmet on. You’re going down.”

  She didn’t bother to argue. Desperately, she tried to remember everything Brady had taught her as she pulled on the tank and the helmet. It was just like the one she’d used with Brady. Wow.

  Within seconds, she was ready. “How far down is it?” she asked.

  Todd glanced at Snake Man, who consulted his ROV. “Around fifty feet.”

  That helped a little. She and Brady had gone a little deeper than that.

  “The code to the safe is 5-4-30,” Todd said. “Simple enough. You can remember that, right?”

  She nodded and looked off in the distance once more to see the light moving closer. A helicopter passed by overhead, high enough that the two men spared it only a glance, but Emily took heart.

  “You got the light?” Todd asked her.

  “It’s attached to the BCD vest.” She glanced at the clear, cloudless sky. The sun shone brightly overhead. “I might not need it.” Then again, she might, depending on how stirred up the water was.

  The thought chilled her again.

  “You’ll need a crowbar to get the door to the safe open.” He pressed one into her gloved hands. “Take this too. There’s no way you’ll be able to turn the dial on the safe with those gloves.”

  She shoved the tool that looked like a curved wrench into one of the slots on her belt. Oh, God, what am I doing? Please be with me!

  He clipped the rope to her belt, then zip-tied it through the buckle. Dread curled in the pit of her stomach. So much for swimming away. She settled herself on the dive platform just like she’d done when diving with Brady and slid feet first into the cold water.

  Brady waited impatiently at the stern of the boat while Gabe Chavez and three of the other Carrington dive team members talked softly amongst themselves. Adam Campbell, Ryan Parker, and Anissa Bell. He knew that beneath their relaxed demeanor there was a tension that was ready to spring as soon as they got the location and the green light to go.

  Brady and the four had attended various training camps and continuing ed classes together, and he’d gotten to know and respect each of them on a professional level as well as personal. The fact that they’d responded to his request for help, dropping everything to suit up and go out, meant more than he’d ever be able to convey.

  So far, the helicopter had made several passes of various areas of the lake and had reported nothing.

  Gabe stood next to Brady, watching the water lap the dock. “She means a lot to you?”

  “Emily? Yeah.”

  “Glad to see you’ve moved past whatever was haunting you about six months ago.”

  “Krystal,” Brady said.

  “Didn’t know her name or the details, but I could tell you were distracted. And angry.”

  “I was.” He let out a sigh and shook his head. “Krystal put on a great show for most of the world, but she had an addiction to painkillers that was her downfall—and almost mine.”

  While Brady relayed the information, his mind was only halfway on the telling of the story. The other half was frantic with worry over Emily. Was she okay? Scared? Hurt?

  “We’ll find her.”

  Brady blinked. “Sorry. I zoned for a minute, didn’t I?”

  “No apologies necessary.”

  “We’ve got some activity on the lake.” The pilot’s voice came through Brady’s COMMS earpiece. “Repeat. Activity on the lake.” Next came the coordinates. “One diver in the water. Two men on the boat.”

  “Any sign of Emily Chastain?” He’d sent pictures to those hovering over the water.

  “That’s a negative. But it’s possible she’s the one in the water. Looks like there’s a pair of women’s shoes on the back seat.”

  “Color?”

  “Pink running shoes.”

  Horror hit him. No. She wouldn’t go down alone, would she? Of course she would if she had a reason to. A threat to kill her would do it. Or a threat against her mother and sister. “That’s a few miles away from here,” he said. “It’ll take us a good ten minutes to get there. Let’s go.”

  The engine roared to life and the team chatter ceased as they focused on the job. Rescuing Emily and catching a possible killer.

  Emily kicked deeper, realized she was going too fast, and quickly inflated the BCD. As it filled with air, her descent slowed. And just like with Brady, she stopped every so often to let her ears and body adjust. She guessed she’d gone about fifty feet when the hull of the boat snagged her light and she gasped, trying to backpedal while her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

  It’s just a boat. It’s just . . . a boat. There’s more above the water that will hurt you than what’s on the bottom of the lake.

  The reminder helped. Some. Okay, not much. This was crazy. She didn’t know what she was doing and she was probably going to die, but giving up wasn’t an option.

  Trying to keep her breathing even, she swam closer to the vessel, her light skimming across the surface.

  The safe was inside the master bedroom toward the rear of the boat—the stern. Todd had given her directions to it and made her repeat them back to him. And now all she could think about was that there was no way she wanted to go inside it. But she had to. She kicked her way over the bow and found the sliding glass doors that would allow her entrance into the living area.

  Reminding herself to breathe normally, she noted the door was open and glided through, stopping just inside to take in the surroundings. Bolted to the floor, the furniture was eerily in place—exactly like it would have been the day it went down.

  She checked her pressure gauge and noted she had plenty of air. Which meant she could take at least one deep breath she desperately needed.

  Once her lungs were satisfied, she tried to see if there was another way out of the vessel, should something happen to the way she came in. It seemed logical to have more than one way in and out. She noted a side door in the living area to her right that stood open. Okay, that was good. Next she tried to pinpoint anything her rope could snag on or get tangled around. There were a lot of options that left her feeling a bit sick. But again, she had no choice but to pray God got her through this.

  She started for the bedroom.

  A flash of light
followed by a dark shadow passed by the window to her right and she froze for a second while her heart sped up. She kicked over to the window and looked out. No light, just fish. When nothing else appeared, she propelled herself toward the bedroom once again.

  The spooky murkiness sent her adrenaline flowing faster, and she just wanted out, but thoughts of her mother and sister kept her going. Along with the knowledge that the sooner she got this done, the sooner she could surface. While she liked being underwater with Brady, she didn’t like this at all.

  Bypassing the instrument panel, she stopped in the galley that looked like it could be used to cook up a scrumptious meal at any moment. A knife. She could cut the rope and swim to shore. Heart thudding, she made her way to the set of drawers and opened the top one. No knives. She continued until she reached the bottom and found a full block of knives. Emily pulled the largest and reached for the rope. And stopped. Floating, she slowly kicked her flippers to hold herself in place.

  She needed to get that flash drive. The police would need whatever was on it. Emily slipped the knife into the side of her belt, careful not to slice her dry suit, and decided to get this done. She continued her journey to the back of the boat, passing the table that seated six. She made her way down the hall and past the bathroom. The door hung open and she glanced inside.

  And stopped.

  Realized what she was looking at and shrieked. Heart pounding, nausea swirling, she turned away and swallowed. Once. Twice. Don’t puke, don’t puke. You can’t throw up or you’ll drown.

  When she had her gag reflex under control, she shuddered and looked again. Two dead bodies had been shoved into the shower. The door was shut, keeping them enclosed in the small space. One face pressed against the side glass in a grotesque distortion of death that brought on the nausea again. But she needed to look. To process. So she could explain what she’d seen should she be so fortunate as to find herself in a position to do so. The face against the glass had a bullet hole just above his right eye. And then she had to look away again.

  So, Jeremy had killed them.

  Slowly, she got herself together. But the image of their decomposing, green-and-black bodies would haunt her for a long time to come.

  Tears leaked and she sniffed. No crying. She had to be able to see. To focus. She kicked away from the horrid scene and finally found herself in the bedroom. With shaking glove-covered hands, she opened the designated cabinet near the bed and found the safe exactly where Todd said it would be.

  Her breaths came in hard puffs, and with a glance at her regulator, she realized she was using up way too much air. For a moment, she simply stopped and leaned her head against the wall in an attempt to control her runaway pulse and rapid-fire breathing.

  When her heartbeat slowed and she was once again breathing relatively normally, she used the gripping tool Todd had given her, attached it to the dial on the safe, and ran through the combination. When she was sure she had done it correctly, she let the tool fall from her hand and pulled the handle.

  Only it didn’t budge.

  She had the right combination because the handle turned, but the door wouldn’t move.

  Of course. Water pressure. That’s why she needed the crowbar. Now would be a really good time to start thinking, Em.

  Maneuvering so she could place her flippered feet against the wall and grab the handle with both hands, she pulled. The door opened a fraction. Just enough for her to grab the crowbar from her belt and jam it into the crack. She pushed to the side and the door opened, allowing another rush of water to flood the inside, equalizing the pressure—and giving her access to the contents. The safe held several plastic bags of cash and a thicker, padded plastic envelope encased in another waterproof bag. She took that and left the cash.

  Finally.

  With the flash drive secure in the zippered pocket of her dry suit, she turned.

  Only to choke on a scream when she spotted the figure floating in the open doorway. The large knife in his hand ruined all of her hard work at breathing normally.

  26

  Todd paced the small area of the boat, wanting to demand what was taking her so long. Unfortunately, while Emily’s helmet had the ability to communicate, he didn’t have the other equipment necessary to do so. He should have thought of that. With a huff, he slumped into the seat, his eyes on the line. Should he pull her up? Ask her what the problem was and what was taking so long?

  His phone rang. “What?”

  “You got it yet?”

  “No. She’s down there working.”

  A pause. “You’re sure she can get it?”

  “I’m sure. Just chill, Jeff, okay?” The man was starting to wear on his nerves. He’d been growing more and more tense over the last week or so. “You’re going to get your cut. I’m just waiting for her to come up.”

  “Should have gotten that boyfriend of hers to get it. That was the original plan.”

  Todd rolled his eyes. “And I told you I wasn’t dealing with a cop who’d try to escape or simply refuse to cooperate. This is much better, I promise. Now, just hang tight. I’ll let you know when we’re on the way. Have the computer ready.”

  “It’s ready.”

  “Boss?”

  Todd gritted his teeth and turned toward Hudson. “What?”

  “Got a boat heading our way and that chopper is coming closer. I don’t like this.”

  Todd frowned and the tension across the back of his shoulders doubled. “Talk to you later.” He hung up.

  Hudson had the binoculars to his eyes.

  “What do you see?” Todd demanded.

  The man swore. “I see enough to know that we need to get out of here.”

  “Cops?”

  “I think so. In the chopper for sure. Not so sure about the other boat. It seems to have stopped and is just sitting there.” He held the binoculars to his eyes a little longer, then lowered them. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. We need to go.”

  “We can’t go. Not without that flash drive.”

  “It’s not worth going to prison for.”

  A gunshot cracked the still air. Red burst from Hudson’s chest. He slumped in his seat.

  Todd darted to him and pulled the man to the floor, not bothering to check and see if he was still alive. There wasn’t anything he could do for him at this point nor did he care to do so. Ducking low, he grabbed the rope that he’d attached to Emily and started reeling her in. Fast.

  She’d have the bends, coming up so quickly, but she’d had enough time to get the flash drive and it was time to go. And even if she didn’t have it, he had to get rid of her since she knew who he was. He now knew the location of the boat. He could get someone else and come back when things cooled down.

  Another shot slammed into the side of the hull and he ducked but didn’t stop pulling. Leaving without her wasn’t an option.

  When the rope stayed slack, his heart skipped into a frantic, desperate rhythm. Had she managed to cut herself loose? When no more shots sounded, he raised his head slightly to see the boat racing for the dock.

  What?

  Todd gave one more yank on the line and pulled the end into the boat.

  Minus Emily.

  “Who’s shooting?” Ryan yelled.

  Brady pointed. “That guy in the boat! He’s shooting at Emily’s boat!”

  Only the fact that Emily wasn’t actually on the boat kept him from diving in and trying to get to her.

  Another shot pinged off the craft. Brady kept the binoculars on his eyes. “One guy’s down. The other guy dropped low. And he pulled the rope in. Emily’s not on the end of that rope!”

  Another shot.

  The man on the boat returned fire, then ducked low. Nothing happened.

  “Can we get close enough to return fire without getting ourselves shot?” Gabe asked.

  Anissa shook her head. “We don’t have any coverage on this vessel. Look. There he is.”

  “What’s he doing?” Brady
muttered. “Stay down, you idiot. Don’t give him a target.”

  The man lifted his head a fraction too far and the next bullet found its mark. A fine red mist sprayed upward. “We’ve got to stop them or we’re next,” Brady said. “Can anyone get a bead on him? Ryan?”

  “I can’t get a visual,” Ryan said, his gun aimed in the direction of the craft. He shook his head and lowered the weapon. “I’d need a rifle to hit him at this range.”

  “I think someone else is down there with her,” Brady said, lowering the binoculars. “Get the chopper to make a pass over the shooter, will you?”

  Gabe spoke into the COMMS, and within seconds, the chopper made a low pass over the boat.

  The little speedboat holding the killer sped away. The chopper followed. “They’ll stay with the boat and hopefully someone can pick him up,” Anissa said. “Our lake unit is on the way and I’ve already called for a forensics team and the ME for the dead guys in that boat.”

  “We need to get to Emily,” Brady said. “Now.” Was she hurt? Was she even alive? His heart thundered in his ears as he tried to keep his cool.

  Gabe grabbed his helmet. “Let’s go get her.”

  “I’m ready,” Adam said.

  “Ryan, you’re Adam’s tender. I’ll be Gabe’s,” Anissa said.

  And Brady chafed because he was stuck on the boat with no dive gear. He’d taken off after Emily without thinking he’d wind up on another lake needing to go in.

  Thankfully, he could listen in on the COMMS. Otherwise, he’d be tempted to just go in without a suit. And he would if he didn’t trust this team.

  “Suit up, St. John,” Ryan said.

  “What?”

  “We’re about the same size.” Ryan handed him his dry suit. “If that was my lady down there, I wouldn’t be up here.”

  Without questioning the gift, Brady pulled on the suit faster than had ever been done in the history of dives. “Thanks, man,” he said before pulling the helmet over his head. “I appreciate it.”

  “I’ve got your rope,” Ryan said. “We’ll find another way to let Adam be useful.”