Beachcomber Trouble

by Stephanie Queen

  “Damn, Shana.” She heard him, but she refused to turn around and look at him.

  Instead, she stalked through each of the rooms in the house. It wasn’t much of a house. There were four rooms on the ground floor. When she saw the stairs, she headed up. There was a utilitarian bathroom and three boxy rooms with mattresses on the floor and bedding folded on top. The rooms and mattresses looked clean. Not that it mattered. She was too exhausted to be truly picky. In spite of what damn Dane might think.

  She threw herself down onto the mattress in the third room and stared at the ceiling, willing her heartbeat to slow down while she waited for the posse. Cap would rescue her from Dane. She didn’t know why she automatically thought that. She could handle herself. She could handle Dane. She didn’t need rescuing, but the notion took hold and embedded into her psyche, giving her blind comfort, enough to slow her heart so that she no longer feared it would seize up in revolt.

  After seemingly only a few moments of calm, the sound of a heavy step on the stairs made her flinch, bringing her tension back in an instant. But before Dane made it up two steps—and before her heart worked into another frenzy—the sound of a truck pulling up outside made her exhale with relief. For the moment.

  Chapter 10

  Within five minute of arriving, the Martha’s Vineyard posse took over. Dane glanced at Shana, who sat next to David in one of the three kitchen chairs. It struck him wrong to see her sitting. It struck him doubly wrong to see David slide an arm around her back. He should be the one comforting her. Before the world turned dark and the longing took hold, he turned his attention away and shut down the lost boy inside him with a severe kick to his gut that he swore he could feel. Boxes and bags of food and bottled beer were spread out on the table.

  Checking his watch, he said, “Better eat fast. Floyd will be calling any minute. He should be arriving at the hotel where he left us about now.”

  “You’re sure he’ll call?” O’Keefe asked.

  “I left him a note,” Dane said. He eyed a bottle of beer and his fingers curled into a fist. It was probably warm anyway.

  Dane’s burner phone rang—the number he’d given Floyd in the note. He slipped the phone from his shirt pocket and waited for the third ring before answering. Then he put the phone to his ear and faced the room. They all watched him. Why not? It was a performance.

  “Hello Floyd.”

  “You goddamn son of—”

  “Calm down.”

  “Get your ass back here from wherever the hell you went—and bring that—”

  “No, we’re not coming back there, Floyd. Change of plans.”

  “Don’t you f—with me, Blaise.”

  “We’ll meet you in public. In the meantime we’re all staying somewhere else. We have a large group. Your accommodations were too small.”

  “Bullshit. You’ve messed everything up. If something goes wrong with Oscar it’s on you.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Where are you?”

  This was the moment Dane had been waiting for. This was the setup, where he risked them all to prove whose side Floyd was on. He gave Floyd their location. Shana jumped up from her chair. Cap stood next to her.

  “Set up another call for two hours from now.”

  “Did I miss your promotion? You’re not the one calling the shots here?”

  “Who is, Floyd? You? I thought it was the kidnappers.”

  “I don’t know who the hell they are, but I have my suspicions. I’ll let them know your demands, but I can’t guarantee they’ll go along with it.”

  “I’ve left some good faith money at the apartment—take a picture of it and tell them we’re prepared to pay. It’s the money they’re after, right?”

  “I told you they want an exchange of assets—we need contact with someone with the authority to do that—who do you have with you?”

  “We have David Young, Director of the Scotland Yard Exchange Program.”

  “Who else? Tell me everyone.”

  “No one else of note. A few cops, soldiers.”

  “Some of your special forces pals.” Floyd wasn’t asking because he damn well knew all about Dane’s pals and he knew Dane would have brought reinforcements. That was the assumption Dane was counting on.

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Takes one to know one.” Dane flicked his gaze to Shana to see her roll her eyes. He wasn’t disappointed. He smiled on the inside.

  “Don’t blame me if the response is to send back a body part.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic, Floyd. Just keep the Tavares clan away from us.”

  “I’m flattered that you think I have such control.”

  “You do. You’re the only one who knows where we are right now.”

  “Now I really am flattered. That you trusted me.”

  They agreed to meet at a downtown Rio government building in the first floor cafeteria. Dane had scoped it out previously and chosen it for its proximity to a police station.

  Floyd ended the call. Dane didn’t like the mocking tone in his voice. He’d expected it, but it still felt bad. Sometimes he hated it when he was right about a person.

  Dane tossed the phone onto the counter.

  “We’re on for the meeting. Let’s set up shop.”

  “Set up shop?” O’Keefe asked.

  “I go along with Floyd’s plan so we can set a trap for the trappers.”

  “We’re expecting a shitstorm,” Shana said to O’Keefe as he walked by. “We’re setting up watch stations and artillery.”

  David said, “We expect Floyd to set us up for an ambush.”

  Dane went to an innocuous-looking trunk along one wall of an almost empty room that would have been a living room if this were a normal residence. He flipped open the trunk and took stock of what he found inside. Numerous semiautomatic weapons, two long range rifles, Kevlar vests, backpacks stocked with bottled water and MREs, and two pairs of binoculars. Exactly what they would need to watch for an ambush and hold out for a fight. Until they could make their escape.

  “Then we have him for conspiracy to commit murder all the way up to possible espionage and treason,” Shana said. She pushed her hair back from her face. Her skin gleamed with perspiration. She looked serious as a rattlesnake. She wanted Floyd Parker. Dane knew there was no way he’d be able to send her back to Martha’s Vineyard unless he went with her. Even once they got Floyd dead to rights.

  The others followed him into the room and he started handing out equipment.

  “Two of us will keep watch on the roof. The rest of you will be stationed on the inside around the perimeter. We need to engage them, but we can’t let them get inside—at least not while we’re in here. We need them to shoot from long range so we can charge Floyd legitimately. And so we can still get out.”

  David said, “If they get close before we’re gone, we’re in trouble.” Dane met his eyes and nodded. He’d handed out the weapons and kept a sniper rifle for himself. He’d be on the roof. He took up a pair of binoculars and looked around. No one said a word. David raised a brow in his direction. It was up to Dane to assign posts.

  “You take the back window. Keep watch,” Dane said to O’Keefe. He nodded.

  David handed his friend a backpack. They nodded at each other again and O’Keefe looked toward the back of the unit without a complaint.

  “I’ll take the post at the front of the building,” David said. He held an automatic rifle and said, “What the hell kind of weapon is this?”

  “ACR Remington Bushmaster 6.8 millimeter made in 2006,” Dane said. He’d been here when the house had been stocked years before. He’d been certain no one knew who he was at the time—especially not the Tavares family. But he could have been wrong. Oscar was with him then. Maybe this all started back then. Maybe it was a very old vendetta.

  “ACR?”

  “Adaptive Combat Rifle.”

  “I won’t ask what it adapts to,�
�� O’Keefe said. He stopped fidgeting and asking questions. Dane figured he was nervous and hoped David could keep him under control.

  “I’ll be on top of the building,” Dane said. “Listen for my ‘all hell is about to let loose’ signal,” Dane said.

  “What’s the signal?” O’Keefe asked. Apparently he was still nervous. David stood next to him and butted shoulders.

  Dane shrugged. “I’ll yell ‘all hell is about to let loose’ and you all jump to action.”

  Shana said, “I’m coming up to the roof with you. We’ll need two pairs of eyes to make sure we have plenty of lead time to get out.”

  “Is there an escape hatch from this house?” David asked.

  “Through the basement. I’ll be out last. We’ll cover you from the roof if we need to.”

  Dane looked at Shana. “The only reason I’m letting you on the roof is so I can keep an eye on you myself.”

  She passed him and took the pair of binoculars he held out to her. Toting one of the assault weapons, she trotted up the stairs. There was no heartwarming eye roll from her this time.

  “How much time do you think we have?” David said.

  “Within the hour. Sooner. Floyd won’t want to waste time since we already escaped once. He figures he has us where he wants us. It’s not far—maybe thirty-five minutes from the Tavares compound to here by back roads.”

  David gave him a salute and Dane took two stairs at a time to reach the second floor as Shana climbed up the ladder to the roof.

  Dane lifted himself through the hatch-like door in the roof and surveyed their post. There was an eight-inch tile border around the edge of the square roof perimeter. Dane knocked the tile with the butt of his gun after he shimmied to the edge on his belly. Decorative. He lay next to Shana at the northwest corner, looking out over the intersection of the main road.

  “This edge is shit. It won’t hold up for fire cover. We’ll have to set up behind the chimney.”

  “What if they approach from the back?”

  “We’ll be okay—we’ll stay low. But we’re in deep trouble if they approach from more than one direction.” He looked at her. She was assessing how serious he was about the deep trouble.

  Unfortunately, he was serious as hell.

  “Go back to the ladder. Keep watch from there. Keep low. I’ll stay on the southwest side of the chimney. Their approach will most likely be from the north or west.”

  “Or both. Or maybe the southeast.” Shana kneeled up and looked around before Dane could reach her to push her back down. She ducked from his grasp and crawled back toward the rooftop hatch and the stairs.

  “We’re better off downstairs covering all approaches.”

  “We won’t see a thing until they’re on top of us that way,” Dane said.

  “Why don’t we leave now?” Shana said.

  “Watch from another building,” Dane said. She nodded.

  He decided it wasn’t cold feet, she was reviewing the plan. It hadn’t been her plan after all.

  “Collateral damage needs to be minimized,” he said. “I’ll stay up here. You take everyone else down the basement through the tunnel—”

  “Why do you have to stay?”

  “Someone has to catch them red-handed. We need them to take some shots. I don’t mind firing first to draw their fire. But I have to catch them far enough out.”

  “You’re crazy—you know that?” Shana had climbed halfway back down the hatch, but no further. She raised binoculars to her eyes.

  “Move it—that’s an order.”

  “Too bad I’m not in the army. And you’re not my boss.”

  He was about to push her down the ladder when he saw her stiffen. He raised his binoculars and looked to the northwest corner, focusing the lens for a thousand yards.

  “Do you see it?”

  “Yes. I’m not blind.” A vehicle only slightly this side of tank-sized rumbled at a good clip and was followed by two familiar-looking black SUVs and an open Jeep. “Damn.” Dane took his binoculars down and met Shana’s gaze for a split second.

  Then she disappeared fast down the ladder and let out a whistle. Dane took a position behind the chimney and raised his rifle. He took aim at the open Jeep. He figured he might as well make his shot count.

  Shana shouted up at him. “There are three men on foot coming toward the back door and coming fast.” He heard her voice get louder through her panting. She was coming back up to the roof. “Get down,” she shouted and threw herself in his direction. She hit the roof, partly on top of them and he rolled her away instinctively. From the corner of his eye he saw a grenade hit near the chimney and explode. He scrambled over and dragged her with him to the far end of the building. He knew there was a fire escape. She tugged on his hand and he looked back to see her take a shot at someone.

  A barrage of gunfire followed as they ducked and crawled the last couple of feet to the fire escape. There was return fire from inside the house. Thank the lord for Cap. He hadn’t gone down the basement escape hatch yet and was covering for them as they climbed down the fire escape to where it dead-ended. Dane jumped, flattened himself against the wall with his gun pointed toward the back corner while Shana jumped down. He motioned for her to head for a nearby window.

  She broke the window and slid inside. Not without some nasty cuts. He tried not to think about it as he waited at the corner of the building until she was cleared. Then he backed up along the wall toward the window to climb in, but before he got there, the barrel of an automatic weapon showed at the edge of the building. He didn’t wait for the rest of the man to follow before he pulled his trigger. He’d emptied a dozen rounds, then, feeling the window behind him, he dropped to the ground and shoved himself past the broken glass head first as he heard the return gunfire outside. Shana was there pulling him through and helping break his fall. Cap was at the door to the passageway and they ran inside after him.

  Dane pulled the steel door closed behind them and shouted at Cap and Shana.

  “Move it!”

  They all ran. Cap got ahead of them and Dane caught up to Shana. He was faster than she was but he didn’t run past her in the tight space—wouldn’t have even if he could have.

  “Nothing personal, girlie, but you’re too slow. We have another hundred yards around that corner up there.” He shone his flashlight that he’d slipped from his pocket as soon as he’d closed the tunnel door. She said nothing, but slowed to look at him, so he scooped her up in his arms and threw her over his shoulder, hunched forward and ran like hell.

  “God damn it, Dane. I can run faster than this.”

  He didn’t answer. He barreled through the cave-like tunnel of cement and rock and dirt, rounded a corner and saw the door at the end and Cap there waiting for them.

  “Are you crazy?” Cap asked.

  Dane dumped Shana from his shoulder at the same time they heard gunshots coming from the other end.

  “Get hold of Acer,” Dane said. He pushed Shana through the door. Cap followed and Dane went through, pulling the wood-hewn door behind him and padlocking it.

  They climbed up a ladder and found themselves in the storage room of a nearby restaurant.

  “No way we can wait here for a pickup,” David said with the phone to his ear.

  “There’s a parking lot not three blocks from here behind a grocery store—two rights and a left. It’s where we’ll get picked up—by land. We can’t afford a fly-in with the weapons they have. We split up now and meet there.” Dane grabbed Shana’s hand, pushed out the back door, and headed left.

  He chose to walk at a brisk pace rather than go a dead run.

  “If you see a hat, grab it. We need to hide that mane of hair. It’s like a flag.” Shana had pulled her hand from his. Her eyes had an edge but she said nothing and marched on at their fast pace, passing David and O’Keefe along the way. Dane rounded another corner, close to the wall and saw the parking lot. He saw a dark green Jeep pulling in with a turquoise ribbon tied to t
he driver side handle. It was Acer.

  “Let’s go through the store.” He saw no sign of the Tavares vehicles or men yet. He took Shana’s hand and ran with her the last half a block toward the front door of the store. He had the inexplicable feeling that someone was nearby. He pushed through the door and shoved Shana inside ahead of him as he heard the screeching of tires behind him. He hoped to hell the others were out back.

  “What was that?” Shana said and looked behind them through the glass. Her eyes told him what she saw.

  “Move fast,” he said and didn’t wait. This time she grabbed onto his arm as they took off toward the back of the store. They pushed through the swinging doors into the storage room, surprising a few workers, but they didn’t bother to slow down for a chat or to give an explanation in spite of the questioning shouts. Dane spotted the bay door that was open to a small loading dock and they ran that way. Stopping short before they got to the opening he took a look outside before jumping into the open. David and O’Keefe were climbing into the back seat of the Jeep. Acer was in the driver’s seat. The engine was running. It was less than thirty yards away.

  They both saw the black SUV pull into the lot at the same time. Shana let out a whistle and took a handgun from under her shirt. Acer spotted them and gunned the Jeep as the SUV drove in the direction of the loading dock.

  “What the hell was that for?”

  “We needed for Acer to see us.”

  “Now Floyd’s thugs see us too.”

  “I don’t think so—not yet. Acer will intercept them and if not, we shoot them.”

  Acer drove the Jeep right at them, swerving in front of the SUV, blindsiding the truck that ended up smashing into the back wall of the building about ten yards from the loading dock where he stood with Shana in the shadows. Dane saw David stick his gun out the window and take a couple of shots. There was no return gunfire as the Jeep came to a screeching halt alongside the loading dock. Dane and Shana jumped from the shadows as some men came rushing out from the storeroom shouting at them. Again, he didn’t stop to give them any explanation. He jumped in back with the others and Shana jumped in front. Acer took off.