by Tawny Weber
Darby couldn’t help it—despite everything the man had done—she had to laugh. “You’re kidding? You think you’re going to get out of this by taking me hostage? We’re on a military base. There is a roomful of SEALs, to say nothing of your commander, a judge and a whole slew of legal types, expecting me back.”
“They’ll have to be disappointed, then, won’t they.” With that, he jabbed the gun into her side and jerked his head toward the door.
Irritated now, Darby started to snap her suggestion on just where he should stick that gun. The she saw his eyes. The narrow focus in those brown depths did nothing to hide the madness. It gleamed as ugly as the weapon he was threatening her with.
Her belly clenched tight with fear.
“Let’s go.” He poked the gun her way. Darby stared at the deadly black weapon. She had no idea what make or model it was. Did it have a safety? Were there bullets in there? She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes and knew that yes, whatever type it was, that gun was loaded.
Her knees trembled so hard that her legs shook from thigh to ankle. She knew if she walked out that door with this man, she’d never walk through another one. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.
“C’mon, sister. You’re my shield. My ticket out of here.”
It took all her willpower, everything she had, but Darby managed to turn her back on the fear. Oh, it was still there, breathing down her neck. But she ignored it and focused on what it’d take to get out of here alive.
Nic.
She needed Nic.
Jarrett chose that moment to prod her with that gun of his.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she snapped, welcoming the fury. It rolled in on waves, dousing the tiny licks of fear. “I’m an officer of the court. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m the one holding the gun and I say you are.”
Darby flicked it a glance, only letting her eyes rest on it for a brief moment since the sight of it made her head spin in a woozy circle.
She didn’t know much about guns, but she’d seen plenty of movies.
“You’re not going to shoot me,” she said, her tone as assured as she could make it.
“Ms. Raye, I’ve killed plenty of others in the course of my career. I won’t hesitate to add you to the list.”
The lawyer in her wanted to ask for specifics. Her research had shown that he was a paper pusher. A strategist with little real experience. She knew he’d been in the Navy for seventeen years, but little of that had been spent in war zones.
So who had he shot?
And were any of them lawyers?
“Captain, whatever you have in mind, let’s be realistic,” she tried to reason, grateful that her words didn’t tremble. “If you do sneak out of here, people will think that you’re guilty. If you take me with you, they’re going to know you are.”
“Shut up.” His breath hissed as he jabbed her again before grabbing her arm and pulling her to the door. He eased it open, looking left, then right, before giving her a hard look.
“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re walking down that hallway. When we reach the guard, you’re going to tell him you’re ill and that I’m taking you to the infirmary. You’re going to convince him to let us go without any questions.”
“And if I don’t?”
He gave her a tight-lipped smile.
“I’ll shoot the guard, let you watch him die, then shoot you, too.”
She wanted to believe he was bluffing. But the manic craziness in his eyes assured her that he wasn’t. So, as reluctant as she was terrified, Darby could do nothing but jerk her chin in agreement.
He pulled her from the room, his fingers digging into her arm tight enough to bruise bone. He’d tucked the gun between them, hiding it in the folds of her jacket as he strode confidently down the hall.
She looked toward the courtroom, willing Nic—his team, hell, she’d settle for Paul—to come to her rescue. She wanted to call out. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kick this evil traitor in the balls and make a run for it. But as she measured the distance between them and the courtroom, them and the guard, she hesitated. She had no idea what kind of gun he had, no clue how far it could shoot. She was pretty sure it’d leave a nasty big hole in her, though.
So she wet her lips and hoped like hell the guard would stop them.
As if reading her wish, Jarrett gave the gun a sharp poke into her side as they approached the door and the man guarding it.
“Sir.”
Jarrett returned the man’s salute, then inclined his head toward Darby.
“A sick civilian. I’m escorting her to the infirmary.”
The man—boy, really, since he looked all of twenty—glanced her way. Darby didn’t have to pretend she was feeling sick. Her heart was racing so fast, she was surprised she didn’t pass out.
“I hope you’re okay, ma’am,” he said with a respectful nod.
Her throat ached from holding back the pleas, the warnings, the screams. But Darby settled for giving the guard the best smile she could, flirtatiously fluttered her lashes and said, “Ms. Raye. You can call me Darby.”
If nothing else, she told herself as Jarrett gave her another poke to get her moving, at least he’d be able to tell Nic he’d seen her when he came looking. And he would.
Even as anxiety spun through her like a whirlwind of fear, she told herself that Nic would save her.
“Move,” Jarrett muttered when they were outside and a few yards away from the building.
Darby made as if she were having trouble walking quickly in high heels, making her steps awkward in an attempt to slow him down. This was a Navy base. Before noon in the middle of the week. There had been people everywhere when she’d got here. Surely he wouldn’t shoot her in front of others. She just had to get someone’s attention. She calculated her options, gauged the distance between them and the three men ahead, and prepared to yank her arm free from Jarrett’s grip and run.
Three buildings away. She’d wait until they were two, until she could see their faces and they could see hers.
As they stepped closer, her heart raced so fast it felt like each beat jumped over the last.
Then they turned into the far building. She cried out, took a quick step forward, before she could help it. She wanted to scream. Someone would hear. Someone would get Nic.
Nic would save her.
* * *
“ONE SOUND, one move, and I’ll shoot you here and leave you dead,” Jarrett snapped, his breath coming as fast as his racing thoughts. How had this gone so damned wrong? He’d planned every step, put every strategy in place. He’d stood in that courtroom this morning ready to gloat. To celebrate the culmination of his victory. Years of planning, of scheming, ruined.
Or were they?
He’d heard those words, evidence clearing Savino of all crimes. Charges to be filed against the guilty party. And he’d panicked. He tried to wet his lips but had no spit. Now, with a little distance, he wondered if he’d been hasty.
His fingers tightened, digging into flesh as he yanked the woman—the enemy—to a halt. He needed to think. She was right. If he hauled her off the base, his options would narrow. Jarrett swiped at the sweat dripping in his eyes and considered. But his thoughts were running, bouncing, racing in a dozen directions. He needed to clear his head. He needed to assess the situation.
“This way,” he snapped, making the lawyer in her ridiculous shoes stumble as he pulled her to the right. He didn’t slow, didn’t let her go. Not even when one skinny heel snapped off her shoe.
“Wait.”
“Keep up or die,” he muttered, not bothering to look at her. His teeth bared in a narrow smile when she did just that. Yeah. She knew who was in charge. He just had to make sure she kept right on remembering.
“Stop here,” he ordered a few minutes later. He kept his gun aimed at her gut while he shot a key into the lock, shoved open the door. “Get inside.”
Damn this mess.
Everything had been going great. Smooth and easy.
Then that idiot, Ramsey, had blown his mission. His mission and the building he’d been in. He’d been smart enough to hide, to fake his death. But with one Poseidon team member injured those assholes wouldn’t let it go. They’d dug and dug. They’d tagged Ramsey’s finances, they’d found his friend Dane Adams’s involvement. They’d blown the lid wide-open on the entire operation.
Damn Savino and his team.
Well, he’d shown them.
Jarrett wiped his hand over his forehead, pulling the loudmouth lawyer along as he calculated his next step. He was a brilliant strategist. Sure, he’d lost ground, but he had a backup plan. And, like any good officer, a backup for his backup.
He’d get out of this. He’d be on his island before morning. Free. Rich and free, and with all the intel he’d stashed away, in business for years to come.
He’d have settled for that.
He’d have walked away, let Ramsey and Adams take the fall while the men of Poseidon tried to repair the damage to their reputation.
But now?
Now he was going to make them all pay.
* * *
“SAVINO.”
Nic ripped his gaze off the door to glance toward his commanding officer.
“Sir?”
Thomas came in, but Darby wasn’t with him. The JAG Lieutenant hurried toward the table they’d shared and grabbed Darby’s notebook. Nic moved to stop him, but Carson got there first. After a quick exchange, the federal prosecutor nodded and stepped aside as Thomas hurried out.
What the hell? Nic caught Lansky’s eye and jerked his head, indicating he should follow.
“Quite a situation we have on our hands, isn’t it?” Cree said.
Hearing the concern in the Admiral’s voice, Nic gave the man his attention. Not all of it, since he was still watching for Darby. But enough.
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
“I was told you were unavailable.” There was no point in admitting that Nic had wondered if unavailable meant guilty. “Given the chain of command, I assumed that Captain Jarrett would be keeping you apprised of the situation.”
“You didn’t think I’d want to hear directly from you that this bullshit case was about to explode?” Cree’s ruddy face creased into a scowl that made crewmen cry. “You’ve served under me for twelve years, Savino. You know better than to lie to me like that.”
“Not lying, sir.” Nic hesitated for a long moment, then admitted, “But not the entire truth, either.”
“You thought I was the traitor?”
“I was trained to keep an open mind,” Nic said in another sidestep. “I never wanted to believe you were behind this, though.”
“And Jarrett?”
“Excuse me.”
Annoyed at the interruption, Cree turned his glare on Prescott.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Prescott said perfunctorily, his gaze meeting Nic’s. “But we have a potential situation.”
“Is this situation important enough to interrupt a private conversation between superior officers?” Cree growled.
But Prescott ignored the Admiral. Instead, he leaned closer to Nic and said quietly, “Jarrett followed Thomas and Darby into the antechamber. When I saw Thomas in the hall a minute ago, I checked that room. It’s empty.”
“And the rest of the courtrooms? Antechambers? Offices?”
“Lansky and I checked them all.” Prescott’s grimace was infinitesimal, but it sent a bolt of fear into Nic’s gut. “When we didn’t see them, we checked with the guard. He reported that Jarrett took an ill woman who said her name was Ms. Raye to the infirmary.”
Son of a bitch.
Jarrett had Darby.
Adrenaline surged as Nic came to full attention. Fury followed, sharp and wicked, but he tamped it down. He couldn’t operate at 100 percent if he wasn’t completely focused.
With the flick of his hand, his men rose, each of them on alert. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and turned it on. His team immediately did the same, ensuring they’d be in contact when they deployed.
“How long ago?”
“Five minutes.”
“Check with the infirmary, confirm that they didn’t arrive. Torres, Danby, Ward—each of you call the guard stations and warn them,” he ordered, his mind ice-cold and his thoughts as sharp as a blade as he planned it through.
“What is this about?” Cree asked with a frown. “Why are you concerned about Captain Jarrett’s movements.”
“I’m concerned about the federal prosecutor’s safety,” Nic said, avoiding the actual question. He wasn’t going to screw up Darby’s case.
Nic didn’t know if his urgency gave it away or if Cree simply had his own suspicions, but a look of disappointed awareness lit the Admiral’s face.
“Gather the team,” Nic ordered Prescott. “Send someone to get the building blueprint. I want to know every way in and out of that room. If this goes bad, we need a rescue plan.”
“Trenton,” the older man barked at the judge. “Get over here.”
“Admiral?”
“What’s going on?” Darby’s boss asked, following the judge.
“Brief him,” Cree ordered Nic.
While Nic filled in Captain Trenton and the Deputy Director on the situation, Cree continued issuing orders.
Within two minutes the team was armed and a call was out for surveillance equipment.
Poseidon had a solid plan, Cree had ordered the base closed and Carson was freaking out.
“I can’t believe this is happening. Does he have any idea the ramifications of kidnapping a federal prosecutor,” the bull of a man grumbled, pacing his way to the bench and back. “You don’t think he’ll do anything, do you?”
“I didn’t think he’d betray his country,” Nic snapped as he secured his weapon. “So I’m obviously the wrong person to ask.”
“We should call the police. We need someone to rescue her.”
“We’re SEALs” was all Nic said. He gave a jerk of his head and Trenton stepped over to calm Darby’s boss.
“Where’s Thomas?” Louden asked, looking up from the blueprint of the base. “Is that obnoxious loser a part of this?”
“Rengel, contact Lansky,” Nic ordered.
“Already on it,” Rengel said, his fingers flying over his cell phone. “Got it. Lansky found Thomas in the bathroom. He’s holed up in a stall. Lansky said it sounds like he’s cribbing Darby’s notes in there.”
“Probably not dirty, then. Just stupid.” Nic didn’t bother rolling his eyes. All it took was a jerk of his head and he knew Rengel was ordering Lansky to hand Thomas over to the guard until the MPs arrived. As much as he wanted to face Thomas down himself, they didn’t have time to babysit. Nic needed his entire team on hand and he needed them now.
“Why aren’t you looking for her?” Carson demanded, looking like panic was overcoming his fury. “You said you’re SEALs. So go do whatever it is you’re so damned famous for.”
“My men are doing recon,” Nic said, gesturing to the ten men texting or talking on their phones. “We believe that Jarrett is still on base. It’s to our advantage if he doesn’t see us searching for him. Word is out and we’re checking with every unit, every office, every post. We’ll know who saw him and where.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll go do what we’re so damned famous for.”
* * *
OH, GOD.
Jarrett had dragged her in here at least an
hour ago. She’d left a trail the best she could, snapping off the heel of her shoe as an excuse to leave them behind. Hadn’t someone found it yet?
Shouldn’t Nic have rescued her by now?
Her eyes locked on Captain Jarrett as he paced from wall to window and back again, Darby did her best to appear still while her hands twisted behind her back, trying to work free of the plastic zip tie he’d used to anchor her to a large crate.
The fear she’d been carefully ignoring took hold as she looked around the warehouse. From cement floor to low ceiling, crates stacked higher than she was tall. From the labels she could see, every one was filled with ammunition.
One stray bullet would blow this place to hell.
Good thing she was going to be rescued by a smart SEAL.
It was like a mantra. As long as she kept repeating those words, she believed it’d happen. Or, at least she wouldn’t go crazy and scream with terror.
Jarrett stopped pacing.
Darby stopped trying to free her wrists.
He pulled out his cell phone, his scowl deepening as he scrolled.
Darby’s stomach clenched.
Did he have some way of checking on Nic? He was in charge of several SEAL teams, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had some clever app that tracked body heat or the proximity of the good guys from the bad guys.
She had to distract him. To give Nic time.
“Captain?”
“What?”
Darby had no idea. But she was a lawyer. She could talk from sunup to sundown.
“Why did you drag me in here? Isn’t this a dangerous place to hide from people who will quite likely be looking for you with guns?”
Hmm. Probably not the best subject to distract him, but her brain seemed to be stuck on the topic.
“We’re here because Savino’d have to be an idiot to storm this place.” His gave a nasty grimace. “And while he’s many things, idiot isn’t one of them.”
“Wouldn’t it have been smarter to have waited in the courtroom to see what the evidence was? If you didn’t like what you heard, you’d have had plenty of time to get away afterward.”
