Deadly Game
Page 22
“Shut up.” Phillips scowled at his employee.
The driver stopped at the edge of the airstrip.
“Go back to the compound. We’ll have company soon if they haven’t arrived already.”
“Any orders, sir?”
He shook his head. “Walters knows what to do.”
Rowan studied Phillips’ expression. Something in his tone made her suspicious. Apparently his man didn’t hear the same thing Rowan had. Phillips’ voice indicated he’d planned something. Couldn’t be good. She hoped the plan didn’t hurt or kill law enforcement officers or Brent and his operatives.
Hard Hands opened his door and motioned with his gun for her to follow. Right. Scooting across the seat with her niece in her arms was no picnic.
Once she stood outside the vehicle, Hard Hands and Phillips escorted Rowan and Alexa to the plane. She glanced back before entering the cabin. The SUV was gone and there was still no sign of the police or Brent.
After a sharp jab in the back from Hard Hands’ gun, Rowan entered the cabin. Her eyebrows rose. Wow. Plush interior, leather seats. Looked like a top-of-the-line plane. The drug business must be lucrative for Phillips to afford this type of luxury.
“Strap yourself and the brat in, Ms. Scott. Todd, tell the pilot we’re ready.”
“Yes, sir.” Hard Hands walked to the front of the plane.
Rowan chose two seats at the back. The idea of one of these guys sitting behind them left her uneasy. Once she and Alexa were belted in, the plane taxied down the strip. A moment later, they were airborne.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Turnoff to the compound is on the right, Eli,” Jon said.
Brent unstrapped his seatbelt, dropped the ice pack, and leaned forward. Up ahead, a police barricade had been set up. “Slow down. We don’t want the cops to open fire on us.” Their rides were reinforced, but he couldn’t afford extra time explaining to ticked off cops why they hadn’t slowed down or stopped at a manned barricade. Brent wanted to save his favors for situations he couldn’t control. Hopefully, this delay wouldn’t take more than a minute.
Eli slowed to a stop. Brent climbed out and walked toward the officers, hands out to his sides, clearly visible. “I’m Brent Maddox from Fortress Security.”
“ID,” snapped the senior officer, his hand resting on his weapon.
Though chafing at the delay, Brent complied. He couldn’t afford to be shot again. The cemetery sniper had shattered the ceramic in his vest and Brent hadn’t commandeered a replacement. He’d been too anxious to find Rowan. Handing over his identification, he waited until his credentials were examined and confirmed.
The cop motioned for his fellow officers to allow them to pass.
Brent returned to the SUV. “Go, Eli,” he snapped before closing the door.
“An SUV just left the compound,” Jon said. “There’s a dirt road through the woods at the back.”
“Rowan?”
“She’s in the SUV, Brent. Her tracker is showing movement away from the compound.”
“Go, Eli.” Brent contacted the drivers of the other two Fortress SUVs and instructed them to proceed to the house on the off chance Alexa had been left behind. He couldn’t imagine Rowan willingly leaving her niece behind. She may not have had an option. Alexa was the bargaining chip to keep Rowan’s cooperation.
As soon as they cleared the tree line and saw the compound, the Volunteer militia opened fire on them from all sides. Eli pressed down on the accelerator. He guided the SUV through a sharp right turn and barreled toward the forest road.
Two militia members exited the woods near the man-made road and stood in the SUV’s path. “Stupid move,” Jon murmured.
Brent agreed. If these guys thought Eli would veer off and risk hitting a tree, they were mistaken. Playing chicken with his operatives could have deadly results for the challenger.
Eli stayed on course for the road ahead. At the last moment, the men dived out of the way with shouted curses and gunfire at the vehicle. The SEAL didn’t slow down as he steered onto the road.
“Jon?”
“Still on the move.” His fingers flew over the keyboard. Seconds later, the second half of the screen shifted to a satellite view of the area. Jon magnified a section, growled.
“What is it?”
“Activity on the airstrip.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Phillips is heading for the plane.”
“The question is, will he take Rowan and maybe Alexa with him?” If Phillips learned Brent’s identity and what he did for a living, the man would run scared and use every bargaining chip at his disposal to save his miserable hide.
His jaw flexed. Keith Phillips should be afraid. The man had put his hands on the woman Brent loved. The militia leader was going to pay for that as well as for using an innocent girl as a pawn in a game of cat and mouse.
Eli swung hard to the left and the SUV leaped forward, the tires gaining traction on an asphalt road. Brent scanned ahead. Nothing, not even the taillights of the vehicle carrying Rowan away from him. “Lead time?”
“Too much,” Jon said, his voice grim.
Eli glanced in the rearview mirror. “Brent, we have company. A pickup truck is coming up on our six, moving in fast.”
Brent turned, bit back a groan as his ribs protested the movement. Two headlights shone through the back window. Full-sized truck. Movement on the left side caught his attention. One of Phillips’ cronies leaned out the window, weapon in hand. “Jon, do you have your sniper rifle?”
“Black case in the hatchback.”
He grabbed the case. “Jake, open the hatch.”
The medic pressed the button to raise the hatchback, then drew his own weapon.
“Keep them busy.” While Jake fired shots to discourage the militia man from firing into their SUV, Brent readied Jon’s sniper rifle, adjusting the scope for his own preferences. “Eli, hold it steady.”
He focused on his target through the scope, drew in a breath, partially let it out, held, then gently pulled the trigger. The windshield of the truck following them shattered and the driver slumped to the side. Despite the passenger’s efforts to wrest control of the steering wheel, the vehicle swerved off the road and slammed into a guardrail, throwing the would-be shooter across the hood. He skidded across the asphalt and lay still.
“Good shot,” Eli said as he maneuvered the SUV through a hairpin curve. “Haven’t lost your touch, boss.”
“Can’t let Jon or our other snipers show me up on a mission.” He returned the rifle to Jon’s case and the cargo area.
“Here.” Jake handed him three caplets. “Over-the-counter pain meds. No whining. Just take them.”
Brent frowned. “I don’t need them.”
“You will when the adrenaline wears off. If you take the meds, pain won’t be as much of an issue in your reaction time and that’s better for Rowan and Alexa.”
Couldn’t argue with that. With a grimace, he swallowed the meds dry.
“Take the next left, Eli,” Jon said. “The airfield is three miles ahead on the right.” He shifted the screen on his computer to full satellite image.
Brent scoured the image. Activity escalated on the ground. As he watched, an SUV raced across the airfield and headed for the plane waiting on the strip. “Floor it, Eli.”
As soon as the SEAL navigated the left turn, he pressed the accelerator to the floor. Trees passed in a blur of motion.
The SUV on the strip slowed to a stop. The driver exited the vehicle as well as a passenger in the back, both male. The driver hurried to the plane while the other motioned with his weapon for someone else in the vehicle to get out.
Brent’s breath caught. Rowan. He leaned forward as Jon magnified the image. She was carrying a child. “Has to be Alexa,” he murmured, noting the way Rowan kept her body between the child and the captor.
Rowan and her niece looked unharmed, but how long would that last? Phillips had to know by now his compound was under attack.
“Satellite’s moving out of position,” Jon murmured. A moment later, he switched the screen to the tracking signal.
“Three minutes, Brent,” Eli said.
Not fast enough. Three minutes was an eternity when the plane crew was ready to roll as soon as the passengers were on board. Rowan and Alexa were only a minute or so from the plane.
Lights glowed in the distance. The seconds dragged until the airfield came into view. Eli skidded onto the airstrip and raced toward the plane. Too far.
Brent’s heart dropped as the plane moved faster and faster down the runway and lifted into the air.
He grabbed his cell phone and contacted Zane as Eli slowed to a stop. “Phillips just took off in his plane with Rowan and Alexa. Track the signal.”
“I won’t lose her, Brent.”
“We’re returning to Phillips’ compound to talk to his henchmen. One of them knows where their leader is headed.”
“I’ll pass the word to the unit leader that you’re en route. Further orders, boss?”
“Send one of the jets to Knoxville to pick up Durango. I want someone at Coffee House to relieve Walker. Send Walker to the airfield. Tell him to pack heavy. Make sure the jet is loaded and ready to roll as soon as we arrive.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brent ended the call. “Let’s go, Eli. I want to talk to Phillips’ associates.” The less time he was separated from Rowan, the better her chances for survival.
He glanced out the window as Eli headed back the way they’d come. Hang on, baby. I swear I will find you no matter where Phillips takes you and Alexa. Just hold on for me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The whine of the engines ramping up filtered into the plane’s cabin. Rowan stroked Alexa’s dark hair, her touch light. They were pressed against the seat by the quick acceleration and liftoff.
The girl shivered in her arms. “We’ll be fine,” she whispered into Alexa’s ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Lex.”
“I’m scared, Aunt Ro.”
“I know, sweetheart. Me, too.”
“I want to go home.”
Rowan’s heart squeezed. “Soon.” If they were rescued. No. When they were rescued by Brent and his operatives, home still wouldn’t be the same for Alexa. Her mother and father were dead, killed by the man who was flying them to an unknown location.
Her gaze skimmed over the watch again. Would the tracker still work in an airplane? She prayed Brent’s safety measure worked and a rescue operation was underway because she didn’t know how much patience Keith Phillips had. When the plane landed, would his forbearance come to an end?
Once the plane leveled, Phillips stood. “There’s a bedroom in the back, Ms. Scott. Take the kid back there so she can sleep. Or not. Your choice. Fair warning, though. I hate kids and won’t tolerate any disturbance from you or her.”
Alexa’s arms tightened around Rowan’s neck. “Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered.
No chance of that happening. “Where she goes, I go.”
“Keep her quiet or I’ll do it and punish you for causing me trouble.” Phillips slid a glance to Hard Hands and inclined his head toward the back of the plane.
She couldn’t wait to escape Phillips’ scrutiny. The man blamed her for not having the information he wanted. Jerk. This whole mess was his fault. He made the choices that led to his association with Jay Maxwell, Toby Minter, and Nolan White, and whatever bad business deals her brother-in-law had going with the cartel and the militia groups.
Rowan struggled to her feet. Hard Hands backed off when she stepped in the aisle and gestured for her to precede him to the bedroom.
Did he believe she’d try anything thousands of feet in the air with a child in her arms and at least two armed men on board? Wouldn’t surprise her if the pilot was also armed.
Rowan stopped at the darkened door to the bedroom. It was pitch black inside.
“Light’s on the right,” Hard Hands snapped. “Hurry up.”
She glared at him over her shoulder. Rowan shifted Alexa’s weight, not an easy feat since the girl choked her in an effort to stay in Rowan’s arms.
She finally found the switch and scanned the room. A queen-sized bed took up a good portion of the room with a small bathroom to the right. Excellent. More comfortable for her and Alexa.
Hard Hands jabbed her in the back with his gun. “Inside, Ms. Scott.”
Rowan moved into the room and the door slammed shut behind her. A second later, a lock clicked. Phillips and Hard Hands were locked out. For the first time since she’d been carried away from Brent at gunpoint, the muscles in Rowan’s body relaxed a little. Hopefully, she and Alexa would have a chance to rest before the goon returned. She had a feeling rest would be scarce once the plane landed.
Wherever it landed. No point in obsessing. Rowan would handle their future destination. She didn’t have a choice. “He’s gone, Lex. We’re safe for the moment.”
Alexa raised her head and looked around the empty bedroom. “I don’t like him.”
Smart girl. “I don’t, either. Can I put you down now, sweetheart?”
The girl nodded. Rowan almost sagged with relief after Alexa’s feet were on the ground. “The bathroom is right there,” she said, motioning toward the room.
“Oh, good.” Alexa rushed across the room, paused in the doorway. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll be right here.”
Apparently satisfied, her niece hurried into the bathroom and shut the door.
Rowan sank onto the bed and laid back, grateful to stretch out her back muscles. How long would they be in the air? Where was Phillips taking them? More important than all those questions was one that had been at forefront of her mind. Was Brent still alive?
Her mind replayed the moments in the cemetery after she said a final goodbye to her sister. The walk across the quiet grounds. The search for the right mausoleum. Waiting for a kidnapper to bring Lex. Instead of exchanging her niece for the records, a bullet smashed into Brent and three men took Rowan from his side.
Rowan replayed in slow motion the moment when Brent had flown back and hit the wall and realized what she’d missed in her desperation to reach Brent. No blood. She frowned. Even when she ran to him, there’d been no blood. How was that possible?
Rowan sat up. A vest. One of those bulletproof vests. Her pulse accelerated. Nothing else made sense. No question a bullet slammed into Brent. She’d seen the hole in his shirt, but no blood. Rowan prayed she wasn’t deceiving herself with a hopeful fantasy.
Brent was the best of the best. He and his operatives knew and understood the danger at the cemetery. They’d have taken every precaution to keep themselves safe so they could protect her and Alexa.
The door to the bathroom swung open. Alexa sat beside her. “What do we do now, Aunt Ro?”
“Take a nap.”
Alexa wrinkled her nose. “A nap? I’m not a kid anymore.”
Rowan’s lips curved. “Is that right? I’ll bet you haven’t been sleeping much.” If she’d been in Lex’s shoes, Rowan wouldn’t have slept much, either.
“I was too scared to close my eyes very long.”
Rowan pressed a kiss to Alexa’s forehead. After she took advantage of the facilities herself, she found a blanket and curled up beside her niece. She wrapped her arms around the girl.
“When can we go home?” Alexa wanted to know.
A question she wanted answered for herself. Unfortunately, there was no easy answer. “I’m not sure, Lex. Soon, I hope.”
“Why did the bad men take us?”
“They want information.” Information Alexa’s father had been foolish enough to gather, keep, and had probably used.
Alexa frowned. “How will they get it if you’re here? Do you have it?”
Rowan wished she had Brent’s bug de
tector, afraid to speak too loud in case the room had listening devices. Leaning close to the girl’s ear, she whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”
A quick nod.
“A friend of mine will find us. He has the information. He’ll take us home, Lex.”
Alexa’s eyes widened. “Who is it?” she whispered back.
“His name is Brent.” Her cheeks burned even as her heart squeezed thinking about him. “My boyfriend.”
“I didn’t know you had one.”
“The relationship is new, Lex. He’s wonderful.”
Her niece was quiet a moment, then, “Do you love him?”
“I do, but he doesn’t know yet so you can’t tell him.”
“I promise not to tell.” A pause. “Are you sure he’ll come?”
“Positive.” No matter who or what he had to go through, Brent Maddox would come for them.
With that last bit of reassurance, Alexa slid into a deep sleep.
Thank goodness. At least she hadn’t been forced to explain about Heather and Jay. Rowan knew the reprieve was short-lived. Her niece was wicked smart. Alexa must know something was wrong if neither of her parents had come for her. Eventually, Lex would ask for the truth.
One crisis at a time. Rowan had to keep them alive long enough for Brent to find them, unless she had an opportunity to escape. Somehow she didn’t think that would happen. Phillips had a lot at stake. Losing his advantage wasn’t in the game plan.
Rowan’s lack of sleep caught up with her. Soon, she found herself drifting. Knowing she had to stay alert, Rowan never fully dropped off. Every noise, shift in altitude, or pocket of turbulence startled her into wakefulness. Thankfully, they remained undisturbed in the bedroom sanctuary.
At some point deep in the night, the air pressure and the sound of the engines changed. Rowan’s eyelids raised. She glanced toward the door. Still closed. Wouldn’t last long.
She glanced at Alexa. Her niece’s back was to her. Better start the wake up process. Rowan began stroking Alexa’s dark, silky hair. Before long, the girl stirred.
“Aunt Ro?”
“Right here.”