Handling Neve (NCIS Series Book 6)

by Zoe Dawson

  Rock and Neve.

  His past came back to send guilt, anger, and an incapacitating pain to tie his gut into knots. He wasn’t here to protect a sixteen-year-old girl.

  He gritted his teeth and melted back into the underbrush. He was relatively sure Rock and Neve would be headed this way.

  Neve walked over to the communal hut, where she found Rock eating. When he looked up and saw her, his eyes lightened. “Good morning.”

  She sat next to him, the husky intimacy in his tone setting off a wild flutter inside her, and she wished this wasn’t a…communal hut.

  “Good morning.” He looked at her hopefully.

  She shook her head, and he swore softly. “Not so good. She said she would tell us her decision after the celebration tonight.”

  “Right, the hoopla we don’t need.”

  “Don’t be rude. These people have been kind and generous.”

  “I just don’t need the pomp and circumstance. We need to get a move on and hunt this guy down.” He moved closer to her as she nodded her agreement. “Do you know you have your tank top inside out?”

  Neve looked down, feeling like an idiot. Dammit, how had she managed that? Restraining a sigh, she gave him a level look. “This is your fault.”

  He grinned and looked innocent. “How?”

  Conscious of the other people in the room, Rock set his forearms on the table and leaned forward, making her remember all the ways he’d made her moan last night. “You know how,” she whispered.

  He reached out and poured her some juice, but when she went to take the glass, he didn’t let it go. She looked at him, the intimate gleam in his eyes making her heart speed up. “I think,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear, “I’m in the same boat. I might not have my T-shirt on wrong, but you do that to me—turn me inside out.”

  Neve wanted to hug him so much that she could hardly stand it, her senses overdosing on the scent of him, on his closeness.

  “Good to know I’m not the only one.”

  He flashed her an amused look, pulling on the tag on the side of her top, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, the intimate glimmer setting off fireworks in her midriff that made her pulse skip and falter. He held her gaze, that almost-smile in his eyes, then lightly touched the small gold stud she wore in her ear. The movement made her aware of the adhesive bandage on his arm.

  “We should make a trip to Puerto Fluvial and stock up on supplies, get ready to move out,” he said.

  “How far?”

  “Not far. We can take a boat up and back.”

  “We’ll have to be on the watch for the EDL.”

  “All right, but make sure you don’t tell anyone you’re a nun.”

  “Got it.”

  They left the communal hut and walked back to theirs. After gathering up what they needed, they headed down to the dock and rented a boat. They stepped down into the seats, Rock taking her hand, steadying her as they settled on the narrow seats.

  Once on the water, the evidence of deforestation was clear. There were many banana plantations along the way and thirty minutes later, when the boat sidled up to the next dock, an honest-to-God town. They stepped out and paid the driver.

  Walking down the docks, Rock kept his eyes constantly moving. They headed in the direction of a general store, where they picked up what they would need. There was a cooler with cold drinks; they bought a couple and found a place in the shade of a tree to sit.

  The town was small, but it had paved sidewalks, even as both the walkways and the buildings were a bit worse for wear, but she suspected that wood, especially untreated wood, wouldn’t fare well in this kind of humidity. It was god-awful hot, and she was constantly sweating.

  “And I thought I came from a small town,” she said, sipping; the cold swallow iced down her throat, quenching her thirst.

  “Dutch and Unalaska are pretty small, part of the Aleutian Islands, but thriving metropolises compared to this small, jungle hole-in-the-wall.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “All over. My family pulled up stakes every couple of years. I spent most of my time in San Diego, then DC, once my dad went from combat to administration.”

  “That must have been exciting, moving and seeing new places.”

  “No. Not for me. For Dex it was—he was home wherever he laid his head. Always popular, never felt out of place. He’s a remarkable guy.”

  She turned to look at him, the sound of his voice tight. That meant Rock was trying to hold back.

  “I attended nine different schools and had to move twice in high school. I played football, so it sucked that I had to be tested all over again when I was a junior. But I soon taught them I could play defense with no damn problem. And don’t get me started on academics. I was either behind and had to catch up or ahead and got bored out of my skull.”

  “Yet you joined the Marines?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t have much of a choice or control over the moves. It was for my dad’s work. Couple that with him being gone a lot and having just my mom, it was tough. I’m considered military royalty, and we step in time and march to the beat of our family history. I was expected to join.”

  “Would that have been your first choice?”

  “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. It was my path from the time I could remember.”

  “And sporting goods? Your own business?”

  “I got a business degree while I was at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis—that’s in Maryland. I also love the outdoors, every aspect of it. As a Marine, I spent a lot of time outside in all kinds of weather. Learned a lot and what folks who want to do it for fun might need or want. It was a way to put down roots.”

  “What’s your favorite thing to do for fun?”

  “White water rafting is at the top, climbing would probably be a close second, and camping, of course. What about you?”

  “I love adventure, something new and different. I like the challenge of rising to the occasion and making a difference. So, the Coast Guard is perfect for me.”

  “I don’t want to be on the move anymore. I had enough growing up and during my deployments. I love San Diego. It feels like home to me, and that white picket fence idea suits me fine.”

  One more thing that they disagreed on, another gap in their relationship. Rock was grounded, and Neve wanted something more. She left home to pursue adventure and opportunity. She hadn’t been thinking about settling down or children. Not on her radar. But now that she was getting older, those thoughts crossed her mind more often. She just wasn’t ready to make anything permanent. She wouldn’t physically be able to be a rescue swimmer forever. She was aware of that. She couldn’t always jump out of helicopters.

  Rock stiffened when he saw a man with an automatic weapon eyeing them a little too closely. Neve looked like she fit in here. He didn’t.

  They rose and headed toward the docks and caught a ride back to Opal’s village.

  As they walked up the incline on the dirt path, Neve said, “Do you think she’ll give up the location?”

  “I’m going to encourage her to do that.”

  They did a quick wash up and went on to the celebration. There was plenty of dancing and drumming, and Neve sat next to Rock, in the curve of his body. It felt so good to be close to him and sad to know that they were from different mind-sets, different worlds, and surely wanted different things. She started to worry all over again what would happen if they got too involved and if there would be a rift between Rock and Tristan. It would break her heart to come between them, not that who she dated, slept with, or spent her time with was any of Tristan’s business. It just added a layer of difficulty that he and Rock were so close.

  As the celebration wound down, Neve noticed all of a sudden that Opal was nowhere to be found. She rose, getting a bad feeling that the girl was missing. She looked at Rock and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Opal isn’t here.”

  He sat up straighter.
“Let’s go check her home.”

  They left as discreetly as they could, and once out of sight of the communal building, ran to Opal’s house. Neve knocked, but unlike this morning, there was no sullen teenager inside. When they entered, the place was empty.

  Opal was gone.

  It didn’t take too much brainpower to figure out where she was headed.

  “Son of a bitch!” Rock said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He swore again. “She’s as stubborn as you.” Probably not the smartest thing he’d ever said to Neve, but he was frustrated and scared for the young girl.

  “I’m going to let that pass because I think you’re worried about Opal.”

  He prowled around the room but found nothing that could help them in their search. “I am worried about her.”

  “How long do you think her head start is?”

  “The last time I saw her was this morning. God, she could have seven to eight hours on us. She’s young and fast.”

  “Can you track her?” Neve asked.

  “Yes, I can, but first we have to find out where she went into the jungle. I have no idea what direction to head. It could cost us a day to recon.”

  Her lips pinched into a moue. “That’s not good.”

  Rock ran his hands through his hair. “She doesn’t have a chance, Neve. What is she thinking?”

  “She’s thinking we’re going to follow her, and if that’s the case she would have had to leave us some kind of clue.”

  He slammed his hand against a post, and then he saw it, the rough wood. Something was carved into it. He read it and swore again.

  “Breadcrumbs,” he murmured when Neve frowned at him.

  “Do we look like Hansel and Gretel?”

  “No, and I’m not playing damn games.”

  “Looks like we don’t have much of a choice.”

  “She’s gone northeast.”

  “How—”

  He tapped the post.

  “Oh, breadcrumbs. Isn’t she a resourceful little Girl Scout?”

  “She’s a pain in my ass. Let’s go,” he said, memorizing the coordinates she’d carved. On their way out of town after grabbing all their gear, Rock stopped at Opal’s father’s hut and explained to the clearly horrified man what Opal was up to. He shook his head and pleaded with them to find her and bring her back. Rock remained noncommittal. He couldn’t guarantee her safety, especially when she was being reckless.

  Neve gave him a scowling look, but he shrugged it off. There was much more at stake here than a young girl getting herself killed—a fact he would do everything in his power to stop—but they had to keep their eye on the ball.

  She didn’t say anything until they were outside the camp. She grabbed his arm. “Really? We’re not going to try to help her?”

  He gritted his teeth. “We came here to kill the White Falcon—Ammon Set. That is why we’re here. She wants her brother back, and she knows where the compound is. This will save us days. If I can do something about her brother, I will, but our objective is clear. Ammon Set.”

  She closed her eyes as if she were pushing back the need to rescue. It was, after all, her job. “I’m not going to throw her to the wolves, Rock.”

  “I didn’t say we should, babe.” He stepped closer and grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed. “She’s got more courage in her little finger than I’ve seen some men in combat situations. She’s got her mission, Neve, and she wants our help. Since we refused to agree, she’s doling out her information piecemeal and forcing our hand. I don’t like to be manipulated.”

  “I agree, but she’s trying to save her brother. You know if that was Nova in there, I would move heaven and earth.”

  “Same with Dex. I would not rest until he was safe. How about we agree to cross that bridge when we get to it?”

  She stood there for a minute, then gave him a curt nod. “All right. How is this going to work?”

  He searched around the area and saw the message on the tree. He pointed. “There’s our first clue. Approaching the trunk, he peered at it and again memorized the directional instructions. Pulling out his compass, he took the reading. Then, he sucked in a few breaths. “Let’s go. It’s time to hoof it.”

  “Lead on.”

  He didn’t wait for her, and unaware if Neve was keeping up or not, he ran, his senses on alert and searching the jungle for any sign of the next clue. They had to make up time. If that kid got into trouble, she was going to need backup. He knew from experience that this was a dangerous area. EDL and government troops were currently duking it out for dominance. If Opal ran into either of those groups, he had no idea what her chances were. He stopped, listening for any type of human sounds or movement, and Neve touched his arm. They were going to have to be very careful. He scanned the area, saw that he was on the right track. The disturbed earth showed just enough scuffing to indicate one person came through here, then on a parallel path, he sucked in a breath, went to one knee. Swore soft and low.

  “Rock,” she said into the silence.

  He glared at her and thumped a finger to his lips.

  “Are those EDL boot prints, you think?” Neve whispered in his ear.

  He nodded. Now she understood why he swore. They traipsed some more and came to a narrow stream.

  He waded into the water, his machete in his hand as he turned back for her. She moved slowly but steadily. He grabbed her hand, pulled her the last couple of feet to the shore. She smacked into him, her nose to his chest. She met his gaze. Thank you, she mouthed exaggeratedly, and his lips curved.

  He turned away, kept the steady pace and was floored by the sheer amount of denseness. Everywhere he looked…just more jungle. Rock listened for Neve’s footsteps instead of looking behind him. She barely made a sound. For the umpteenth time, he thought, What the heck did Opal think she was doing? Right now, finding her was essential. He didn’t want to be noticed by the government troops and pissing off the federales wasn’t good any way you looked at it.

  When he felt they were due for another clue, he stopped. Neve slammed into his back. He twisted, grabbing her before she fell. She was winded, sweating, which wasn’t unusual in this country, but she looked like a drowned cat. Wisely, he didn’t say so.

  “Okay, Marine, you’re gonna have to cut the pace a little.” She bent over, her hands on her knees as she dragged in air.

  “It was only a mile.”

  “At top speed when it’s a hundred and ten out here?” She tried to put some force in her words, but it just sounded like whining to him. “I’ve run five miles, three times a week, for years. But you…you’d clean up in the Olympics.”

  “Keep up, babe. We have to make up time,” he said with a nudge, then frowned as he looked around, and there it was. He read the coordinates and got his bearings while Neve groaned.

  “You’re cute when you’re handing out orders. I’m just too winded to salute.”

  “That would make my freaking day, but we have more pressing matters. You need to get the lead out, Neve. Let’s go.”

  “You’re going to pay for that, and I’ve been convalescing, pushy,” she bit back.

  His gaze flashed to hers. “Sounds like excuses to me. Last one there has to do twenty-five push-ups.”

  “You’re tough. One-armed…”

  He grinned and took off. Damn, she was sassy and damn if he didn’t love that about her.

  Whatever he couldn’t plow through, he hacked. After running for a while, he called for a stop. Both of them were sweating heavily. He pulled out water and drank, Neve doing the same. He pointed at the tree straight in front of him. More coordinates.

  The area he entered was dark, dusty, and sweltering. In the distance, he could hear the commotion of a number of men: raised voices, barked orders, and he wondered if Opal had already gotten herself nabbed by them. But then he shook his head and pulled Neve toward cover. Guerrilla tactics—this was definitely a shakedown, and from the sound of it one faction wasn’t happy w
ith the other. Great. Caught in the crossfire between two sets of hostiles.

  Behind him, he heard the sound of someone running. He leaned back and took a quick look just in time to see a man with a rifle skid to a stop at the edge of where they were hiding and lower himself into a crouch while he checked the forest floor. The gun-toting guy rose, his eyes going over the expanse of the jungle, his intent gaze focused straight ahead. Then Rock’s eyes snagged on it…a crude bag with a woven cord. Dammit, that was Opal’s gold bag. Looks like someone had snagged her and they were out of time. Well, hell, so much for Opal’s skills. He just hoped she was still alive, and the drug runners hadn’t hurt her or worse. Rock prayed the guy wouldn’t guess right about their hiding spot. The hostile moved forward, and if he didn’t change his trajectory, he was going to walk right into them.

  He was forcing Rock’s hand. Rock picked up a rock and tossed it. The guy whipped around and went toward the sound; Rock rose quickly and grabbed him around the neck and squeezed. As soon as the enemy dropped the rifle, he motioned for Neve to get it.

  When the guy went limp, Rock bent and got him draped over his shoulder and headed away from the shouting, increasing his pace once he heard a gunshot. Looks like the negotiations were over.

  He traveled a fair distance and set the guy down. He pulled out the cuffs and manacled his hands, then tied his feet. Slapping his face repeatedly, he roused the guerrilla.

  The other man shook his head; his eyes were a bit glazed, then they cleared. He opened his mouth, and Rock shoved a sock inside. He couldn’t remember if it was one of his clean ones.

  If looks could kill, he would be dead.

  Rock reached for his knife and pulled the blade from its sheath. He set it against the man’s throat. “I’m going to ask questions, and you’re going to give answers. That’s going to be the extent of our interaction. ¿Comprende?”

  He nodded. “Good. You speak English.” Rock reached down and snagged the bag. He opened the pouch, and his mouth tightened when he saw it was almost full of gold.

  Rock pulled out the gag. “Where did you get this?”