by Lisa Harris
“Got ’em.”
Bree maneuvered across the water toward the sound. She’d always been the outdoor type, and clearly that hadn’t changed. She was still just as smart and competent. And just as beautiful.
He thrust aside the thought as she pushed on the throttle and upped their speed. He grabbed the binoculars in front of him, equipped with a digital camera, and turned on the image stabilizer.
“Can you see them?” Adam asked.
“I found them.”
He studied the horizon, then zoomed in, looking for any kind of distinguishing marks that might lead to identifying either the boat or its driver.
“We need to get closer, but I’ve got two males in my sites. Both Asian and both armed.”
“Any markings on the boat?” Adam asked.
“Nothing identifiable from the back. It’s an older model . . . a Sanger flat bottom. There’s no way to read the hull identification number at this distance. But wait a minute . . .”
The boat was turning slightly, following the route of the narrow waterway. “There’s a number and name on the side of the boat. Two . . . five . . . seven . . . And the name is White Pearl.”
“Got it.” Adam passed on the information to his captain back on shore, along with an update on their position. “Now we just have to hope the boat’s not stolen.”
Jack stared through the binoculars. The men were shouting at each other, arms flailing, like they were in a heated conversation. One of them stepped to the bow of the boat and pulled out a couple of automatic weapons.
“What have you got?” Adam asked.
“They’ve taken at least two more automatic weapons from their storage hold,” Jack said.
“What do you want me to do?” Bree asked.
She waited as Adam relayed her question to his captain.
“Captain McClure wants us to hold our position. Keep them in our sites but wait for backup before we engage with them.”
“Roger that.”
Jack steadied himself beside her, still keeping tabs on the men through the binoculars. But he was worried about her. There hadn’t been time for her to process anything that had happened this morning. And in reality, she needed to be at the hospital right now, being checked out, not chasing their suspects. He glanced at her and caught her tense expression. She had to be exhausted mentally, but also emotionally.
Jack kept his gaze on the enemy boat but his attention on Bree. “Do you think they made the wrong call?” he asked. “Having us wait for backup?”
She shook her head. “I know they’re right. If we go in now, someone’s going to get hurt. But I just . . . I just can’t stop thinking about Papps. He was losing so much blood. I’m afraid he’s not going to make it.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry.”
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t promise her Papps would be okay. Or that any of this was going to turn out okay for that matter. There was simply no way to know. What he did know was that she was strong, and as hard as the situation was, she was trained for it—facing the enemy instead of running away.
“But the bottom line is that even if Nico is behind this,” he said, “this is not your fault.”
“I know.” She frowned. “On one level at least. I just can’t stop seeing Papps’s face after he’d been shot, and wondering how he is.”
“We’ll get you there as soon as we can. I promise.”
“Jack . . .” They were still at least a hundred yards behind the second boat. Close enough to monitor them, but far enough away to ensure they were safe until backup came. “What are they doing?”
He held up the binoculars again and studied the boat. One of the men was opening up a storage console in the stern of the boat. He pulled something out, then hoisted the weapon up onto his shoulder before turning around and facing them. Jack’s heart pounded as his mind unscrambled what he was seeing. This wasn’t just another automatic weapon. And they were aiming at the boat.
“Adam . . . Bree . . . they’ve got some kind of grenade launcher.”
“A what?”
“We need to jump—now!”
He heard a whizzing sound streaming toward them. Bree jumped away from the console and into the water. He was right behind her, but a second before he hit the water, the boat exploded into a ball of flames.
CHAPTER SIX
AUBREY STUMBLED TO FIND her footing on the seabed as she broke the surface of the shallow water. She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She could feel the heat of the burning boat as she tried to orient herself, but everything around her was spinning. She shook her head, needing to stop her ears from ringing from the explosion, while at the same time trying to blink away the burning in her eyes from the smoke.
With the waves lapping at her waist, she widened her stance a few inches in order to help keep her balance and stared out across the water, her vision finally starting to come into focus. Smoke spiraled upward from their boat, still burning on top of the water. There was no sign of the boat they’d been after, but that didn’t surprise her. She didn’t expect them to stay around and watch the spectacle. No doubt they were long gone.
Adam shouted from behind her. “Aubrey! Are you okay?”
“Adam.” She turned around, then looked down to where he was staring at a long trickle of blood running down her forearm. “It’s nothing, where’s Jack?”
“I don’t know.”
She turned slowly in a circle, searching for him. A few seconds ago, he’d been beside her, warning her of what was about to happen—and saving their lives. But now . . . Where was he?
“Jack!” she screamed as she searched the water in front of her and the thick reeds bordering the shoreline. “Jack!”
Panic bubbled up inside her. He had to be here. Had to be okay. Debris from the boat floated past her as flakes of black ash rained down on them. Her vision was getting better, but there was still no sign of him.
“Adam . . . I don’t see him.”
“I don’t either.”
The panic in Adam’s voice reflected her own. She bit her lip and fought to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Papps had been shot, and now they couldn’t find Jack. If he’d been hit by the grenade, was somehow still on the boat . . . On the boat. That’s where he had to be. If the grenade had hit before he could jump clear—
She shoved away the terrifying possibilities, focusing only on finding Jack. She shouted at Adam, “We’ve got to check the boat.”
She trudged through the water toward the boat, a thickening, heavy smoke burning her eyes. She was shaking, as much from fear and shock as from the cold. Twenty yards away, the remains of the boat continued to burn, flames licking around the console as the fire spread vigorously across the fiberglass frame.
She pulled her drenched neck gaiter up around her mouth and nose in an attempt to block the smoke. He had to be nearby. He’d been right behind her when she jumped, and she thought he’d gone over with her.
“Aubrey!” Adam shouted. “He’s here . . . near the shoreline.”
She shifted direction. She’d dumped the water out of her boots when they’d arrived back on shore, but now they were filled again, making walking through the water awkward. She slipped them off and swam hard for the shoreline.
They found him wedged against the shoreline, his body twisted while he fought to keep his head above water.
“Jack . . . Jack, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, but my leg’s caught on something, and I can’t get loose.”
“Hold on.” She dove beneath the water to investigate. A few seconds later she came up for air. “It looks like it’s caught on some fishing lines in the underbrush. I’ll go back under and try to untangle you.”
Jack caught her gaze. “Just be careful. Please.”
She turned to Adam. “Have you got a knife?”
He dug into his front pants pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. “Always.”
She glanced back at the boat burning behi
nd them. Orange flames licked at the structure as she opened the knife. “We’ve got to hurry. If the flames hit the gas tank . . .”
She didn’t have to finish her sentence. They all knew exactly what she was thinking.
“How much time do you think we have?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know.” Adam shook his head. “The fire’s moving fast.”
And the growing fire wasn’t the only issue. The current was strong, and it wouldn’t take much to pull their feet out from under them, especially in places where the bottom was slippery.
She drew in a deep breath, then dove beneath the surface of the water. Her eyes burned when she opened them. Sediment floated in front of her, making it hard to see. She reached for Jack’s leg and felt the thin line that was entangled around him on one end and a fallen log beneath the waterline on the other end. She unfolded the blade, then started to cut the line away from his leg, pausing as her fingers hit a fishing hook stuck into his calf. She felt his muscles flinch as she carefully pulled out the metal barb. A few seconds later, he was free.
She came up for air, then motioned for Jack to follow her away from the boat that was still burning.
Adam helped steady her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She glanced back at the burning boat. “We need to get out of here.”
They swam downstream another twenty yards, then stopped. Adam climbed up onto the shoreline and helped both of them out of the water.
She sat down in the soggy mud between Jack and Adam, thankful that at least she was out of the water and that they were farther from the burning boat. A moment later, a second explosion rocked the boat as the gas tank ignited. Debris shot into the air again along with more thick smoke.
Jack pulled her shivering body close to him as she stared at what remained of the boat. “That was way too close for comfort. Are you okay?”
She nodded, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. “Wet and cold, but okay. What about your leg?”
He reached down and pulled up his pant leg. There were five or six scrapes and a bloody hole where she’d pulled out the fishing barb, but nothing that had to be dealt with right now. “How far behind is the second boat?”
“Last I spoke with them,” Adam said, “they were about five minutes behind us. And no doubt they saw the explosion.”
“You still think Nico Graves is behind this?” Jack asked.
She shook her head. “We certainly can’t rule him out, but I can’t see him arranging something this complex, especially when it would be easier to get me in Houston.”
“I can’t either,” Jack said. “But from the little I know about the case, he got away with murder for a long time, and the extent of his criminal involvement is still unknown.”
“That’s true.”
But everything that had happened over the past few hours had seemed planned and thought out. Nico wasn’t like that. The paid sniper, a grenade launcher . . . Clearly there was more involved in this than they presently understood.
“What about security for the senator?” she asked, turning to Adam.
“A detail’s already been arranged.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “He’s going to be okay. And we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
The sound of a motorboat broke into their conversation. The backup police boat approached the shore. Moments later, she was climbing into the bow in front of Adam and Jack. Smoke still filled the air as the fire burned down.
“I’m Lieutenant Perez and this is Sergeant Lowe.”
Adam quickly made the introductions.
“We just saw the explosion. What happened?”
“The boat we were after hit us with some kind of grenade launcher.”
The lieutenant took a step back. “A grenade launcher?”
“Apparently, we got too close,” Jack said, “and they decided to take us out.”
“The three of you are lucky to be alive.”
“Tell me about it,” Adam said. “What about our suspect?”
“A bullet grazed the side of his head, and he’s still alive. He’s being transported as we speak for observation, but the paramedics on the scene believe the damage is minimal, barring any complications like a concussion.”
“Have you been able to identify him yet?” Aubrey asked.
“No, and he’s refusing to talk.”
The sergeant took the helm while the lieutenant handed each of them a first-aid blanket. “We’re sending the helo out to do an aerial search, but it’s not going to be easy to find them. Did you get a good look at any of them?”
Jack wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. “I doubt the binocular photos are recoverable, but I got a good look at the men and the boat. Both men appeared to be Asian. At least one had tattoos down his arm.”
“Any identifying marks on the boat?”
“We called it in earlier. It was named the White Pearl.”
“Hopefully that will help us find it.”
A flood of emotions rose to the surface, but she managed to push them aside and settle into the seat next to Jack.
He nudged her with his shoulder. “We make a pretty good team.”
“Losing suspects together?”
“Well, if you insist on looking at it that way . . .”
She smiled. He’d always been able to make her smile. It was a reminder of how much she’d missed him. Made her wonder why she hadn’t tried to stay in touch.
He tugged on the edge of her emergency blanket, pulling it tighter around her shoulders. “I haven’t thanked you yet for saving my life.”
“Honestly, it was a tough call, but I decided I couldn’t let you stay out there all tangled up in that fishing line. There aren’t a lot of gators in this area, but I know there are stingrays, and they can be pretty painful if they get ahold of you.”
“Very funny. And I was just about to pay you a compliment.”
“Which was?” she asked.
“Hmm . . . I’m not sure you deserve a compliment after that.”
She laughed. She’d even missed his constant teasing.
“I was just going to say that I’ve noticed you haven’t lost any of your spunk,” he said. “You were the one who took off after those guys before anyone else had barely reacted.”
Her eyes widened. “Spunk? Really?”
“Wrong word?” he asked.
“Maybe it was the right word back when I was fourteen, but now . . . yeah, it seems like the wrong word. I was doing my job.”
“I’ve never seen you in action, so what I should have said is that I’m impressed.”
“Impressed?” She shot him a broad smile. “Maybe embarrassed is a more appropriate word, since you had a hard time catching up with me when I ran for the boat.”
“Now I’m the one who needs to question your choice of words.”
“I’m just saying, I did have to wait for you to get on board.” She laughed, but her smile turned serious. “Have I told you that despite everything that has happened today, how good it is to see you?”
“I agree, though if someone told me I’d run into you today, I never would have believed it. I’ve missed you, Bree. It’s been too long.”
“It has.”
“Maybe when this is all over . . . maybe we can catch up. Hang like we used to.”
“I’d like that.”
She tried to interpret whatever it was that was passing between them. Or maybe it was nothing, and her imagination was working overtime. But she didn’t ever remember him looking at her that way, and she wasn’t sure what he was really thinking.
Jack cleared his throat and shifted his gaze to her forehead. “You need to get to the hospital and get stitched up. You look like you’ve been in the boxing ring.”
“How bad is it?”
“Well . . .” He leaned forward. “Your eye’s a light shade of pink, but I’m sure within a day or two it will be purple. You could always add a bit of eye shadow to the other side, so they match. As for
the cut, I’m sure a couple stitches should be enough.”
Her hand automatically went up and touched her forehead. She winced.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Only if I touch it.”
“At least it stopped bleeding.”
She shifted her gaze and stared out across the water. It seemed crazy how just a few hours ago she’d been quietly watching the sunrise, thankful for a few days off, and now everything had spiraled out of control. She had no idea who was after her, or who had shot Papps. But what she did know was that she was glad Jack was here with her.
She watched the dock come into view as the driver slowed down and eased the boat alongside the wooden structure. There were still several police cars, at least two unmarked ones, as well as an ambulance waiting along the shoreline.
She grabbed the arm of the captain who was waiting for them at the dock, as he helped her out of the boat. “Do you have an update on the senator’s condition?”
“All I know is that he’s still in surgery. They were expecting it to take a couple hours.”
She dropped her arms to her sides, frustrated at the lack of information. But at least he was alive.
Thank you for that, God.
“What about his family?”
“They’re all either there or on their way.”
“And our suspect that was shot?” Jack asked.
“The doctor wants to keep him a few more hours for observation to make sure there’s no concussion before he’s transferred to the jail.”
“I want to talk to him,” Adam said.
“We’ll get to that, but at the moment, I want each one of you checked out by a doctor at the hospital. That was far too close a call.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
AT HALF PAST TEN Aubrey examined the stitches on her forehead above her left eyebrow in the emergency room bathroom, hoping they wouldn’t leave a scar. But a scar seemed insignificant at the moment. All she cared about right now was seeing Papps and making sure he was okay. She pulled a jean jacket over the white shirt and black jeans Adam’s wife had brought for her, along with a pair of short boots, then tossed the bloody clothes she’d been wearing in the garbage. A sickening feeling washed over her as she stepped away from the trash can. The ruined clothes weren’t reminders she needed right now.
