Total Surrender (COBRA Securities Book 11)

by Velvet Vaughn

  Headlights blinded them and then kicked off as Sawyer stopped the SUV a few feet away. He bounded out and headed for them. They watched as the medics efficiently inserted an IV into his veins to pump much-needed fluids and secured his broken arm in an air cast. “Are you going with him?” Mason asked.

  She should. She wanted to. She hated the idea of Hunter waking up alone, but saving Margaret and her baby was their prime objective. She couldn’t let anything happen to Margaret’s son. It was her fault he was missing. Hunter would want her to finish the mission. Plus, she didn’t want his injuries to be in vain. “No, I need to see this through. I want to deliver Margaret and her son to her parents. For Hunter.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Sawyer offered. “He’s lost a ton of blood. He’ll probably need a transfusion. I’m a universal donor.”

  They all watched as the medics finished working on him and then lifted him to the stretcher. She rushed over and grabbed his un-casted hand. “You be careful with him,” she ordered as she ran alongside the stretcher. “Do not jar him.”

  “We’ll take care of him. That’s a promise.”

  “Ma’am? You need to let go so we can get him to the hospital.”

  “Oh yes. Right.” She gave Hunter’s hand one last squeeze and then stepped back as they loaded him inside the chopper and hopped in after him. Sawyer jumped inside, and the doors closed. Dirt and leaves kicked up and Talia’s hair whipped around her face when the rotor began to turn, slowly at first and then picking up speed. Soon the helicopter lifted, taking Hunter away from her. She felt an overwhelming sense of loss, like she was missing her other half.

  Mason stood beside her, watching the lights fade until they disappeared altogether. She pulled herself together. She had a mission to finish. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hunter was jarred into consciousness by a sudden movement and a loud whining noise that reverberated through his head.

  “Are you back with us, Mr. McGrath?” a voice asked loud enough to be heard over the rumbling engine.

  He turned to the voice and winced when pain pounded in his skull like a jackhammer working the concrete around Times Square. He didn’t recognize the face. The man was young with red hair sticking out from under a helmet and a face covered with freckles. “Where am I?” His voice sounded scratchy, raw.

  “You’re in a helo being airvaced to the hospital.”

  That voice he knew. “Sawyer?” He rolled his head…slowly this time…to see his teammate reclining next to him with a red-filled tube attached to his arm. The last few hours were fuzzy. “You were hurt, too?”

  “Nah. You, my hemoglobin-challenged friend, have lost quite a few pints. Lucky for you, I’ve got plenty to spare.”

  Apparently, the drugs they were pumping into his veins were doing their job because he didn’t feel a thing, other than the dull throb in his head. He closed his eyes trying to remember what happened. The shootout in Elijah’s hidden room. Rob had some kind of rapid-fire weapon, possibly a slip gun, and he’d squeezed off several shots before he was stopped. Hunter’s vest caught some of the slugs, but he took a hit in his shoulder and another in his arm. He was pretty sure the bone had cracked on the second shot. Sure enough, he felt the air cast. Then they went to rescue Margaret, but Joan had wired her for explosives. Or was her name Pam? He thought she might’ve said something about that but he wasn’t positive. He took another bullet in a losing effort to save Clint. Somehow, he managed to make it to the nursery without the others realizing the shape he was in or how much pain racked his body. When he found the tunnel leading out of the nursery, it took every bit of strength he had left to push the hatch open and step outside. The sudden shock of fresh air hit him like a ton of bricks, both painful and soothing. That was his last conscious thought. His eyes jerked open and he grabbed the medic’s arm, startling him. “Talia?”

  The man shook his head and then nodded as realization dawned. “Long black hair, green eyes?”

  The most gorgeous woman in the world. “Yes.”

  “She stayed behind…after ordering us to take care of you.”

  Hunter smiled at the image and closed his eyes. He could totally picture her doing just that.

  “You should have seen her,” Sawyer chuckled. “She was like a Valkyrie, dictating commands to her troops.” His smile faded. “She wanted to be here with you, Hunter.”

  Darkness closed in on him and it was a nice visual with which to drift into oblivion.

  “We spotted the women you were looking for from the air,” the medic continued, unaware of his impending unconsciousness. “They were headed off to apprehend them.”

  Before he succumbed, he had to know one thing. “The women, did they have the baby with them?”

  “One was carrying a bundle,” the medic confirmed. “We couldn’t tell for sure from the distance, but she cradled it like one.”

  If Robby was safe, Talia would find him. Then she’d reunite him with his mother and both with Margaret’s parents. The mission would be accomplished. A huge checkmark in Talia’s favor.

  As much as he wished she was with him right now, he was glad she chose to see the job through to the end. She would get the closure on the case and all the credit. He was totally fine with that.

  #

  As the whine of the helicopter blades faded away, worry for Hunter ate a hole in Talia’s stomach, but she ignored it as she jumped into the passenger seat and locked her belt into place. She had to stay focused for both of them. He would expect her to finish the mission and she would not let him down.

  Mason helped Margaret into the back seat before hopping behind the wheel. He slammed the SUV into gear and punched the accelerator, sending a spray of dirt skyward as they accelerated down the dirt road.

  She swiveled to face Margaret. “When we spot the women, stay in the car, no matter what you see. They might have weapons. When I give you the all-clear, then you can come out.”

  Margaret nodded in understanding, and she turned back around and scanned the horizon, looking for any moving shapes.

  They hadn’t travelled far when the headlights spotlighted two women, one carrying a bundle, the other waving her hands to flag them down.

  She pointed. “There.”

  “I see them.” The back end fishtailed as Mason slammed the brakes and pinned the women with the high beams. They both threw up hands to shield their eyes.

  “You’ve got point,” Mason told her. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  They shot out of the SUV with their guns aimed before the women knew what was happening.

  “Do. Not. Move,” Talia yelled when one woman took a step backwards. The other woman made a sound of distress as she and Mason surrounded them, their weapons poised for attack. “Hands in the air,” she ordered. The woman carrying the bundle lifted one hand and the other lifted both. Talia jerked her head from Mason to the empty-handed woman and he had her cuffed and on the ground in seconds. Talia reached for the bundle in the other woman’s arms, removing it from her grip. Big brown eyes blinked at her before a tiny bow mouth opened wide and let out an ear-splitting wail. Robby.

  Mason jerked the woman’s arms behind her back and flex-cuffed her before urging her to sit beside her cohort. Talia headed for the SUV, dumfounded that such a big sound could come from something so tiny. She made eye contact with Margaret and nodded.

  The door flew open and she slid out as if in a daze, her hands covering her mouth. When Talia added a smile to the nod this time, Margaret let out a cry and rushed to her. “My baby! My baby!”

  Talia handed over the wailing infant. Tears stung her eyes at the joyful reunion. Margaret cuddled her son to her chest.

  “I’m never letting him go again,” she sobbed. Robby, realizing he was in his mother’s arms, abruptly quit crying and his lids fluttered shut. He was out like a light. Margaret let out a watery laugh. “All this excitement and he decides to check out.”

  “He knows he is finally safe,�
�� Talia murmured.

  Margaret’s face crumpled and she nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks.

  Talia helped mother and child into the SUV and then jogged over to where Mason had the two women sitting back-to-back with their hands bound behind them. They were both weeping and babbling incoherently in Spanish.

  “Silencio,” she ordered them with a jerk of her hand. “Be quiet. Estás secuestradores.”

  “No, nos—”

  “Dije que estés tranquillo. I told you to be quiet. And speak English. I know you can.”

  “We are not kidnappers,” one of the women insisted.

  “What is your name?”

  “María Sánchez.”

  “Ms. Sánchez, you were fleeing with a baby that is not yours. What do you call it?”

  “We were protecting him! We did not know that you were truthful with us. How do we know you are who you say?”

  “Talia.” Mason, who had been patting them down for weapons, withdrew a phone from the other woman’s pocket and held it up.

  “What is your name?” Talia asked the contraband-carrying one.

  When she didn’t answer, Talia took a menacing step forward, but Ms. Sánchez quickly supplied, “Rosa García.”

  “You told me you didn’t have a phone,” Mason accused. Both women avoided his gaze. “Just like you,” he pointed at María Sánchez and she flinched, “swore you were alone in the nursery and that there was no other exit. Everything out of your mouths is a lie.”

  “No, no,” the woman protested with a shake of her head. “I swear, we are not kidnappers.”

  “Why should we believe you?” Talia asked

  Before either could answer, Mason called her over, his tone urgent. “Look at this. Last call made.”

  She grabbed the cell from his hand and her heart skipped a beat. “Can you get your contact on the phone now? Have them pick him up immediately.”

  While Mason turned away to make the call, she crouched down in front of the women. When they averted their gazes, she ordered, “Look at me.” They both reluctantly turned her way. “What did you tell him? What did you tell Elijah?”

  When they didn’t answer soon enough, she whipped out her gun. Before she had a chance to aim…not that she would actually pull the trigger…one of the women babbled, “We told him to run.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The buzz of his cell phone woke Elijah from a light sleep. His neck protested as he straightened from the padded chair he’d napped in, and he worked it side to side. He glanced over at Tilly as she slept the blissful slumber of the heavily drugged. It took some pleading—and flirting with the on-duty nurse—but she finally relented and allowed him to spend the night in his sister’s room. She was especially understanding when he explained that the procedure had been risky with Tilly’s heart problems. She’d been born with a hole in her heart that had been repaired, but she’d suffered with respiratory problems for most of her life. The doctors had been aware of the condition before surgery and Tilly came through with no complications. It would take some time for her ankle to heal but she should make a full recovery.

  He told the nurse he didn’t want her to wake up in a strange place, and that was the truth. She would be disoriented. He wanted his face to be the first thing she saw so she wouldn’t be scared.

  His phone buzzed again. He checked the display, surprised to see the name of María Sánchez flash on the screen and then guilt assailed him. He’d forgotten all about María and her cousin, Rosa. They’d been with his family for years…since Tilly was young. They helped raise her and then when he started his business, they took care of the babies before he sold them to the highest bidder. He had a feeling they strongly disapproved of his methods, but he paid them well enough to keep their mouths shut. The money supported their families back in Mexico.

  He hit the accept button. “María, I’m sorry I forgot to call. Tilly is—”

  “Mr. Richie, Mr. Richie,” she interrupted, “they have come for baby! We flee. We flee.” She started babbling incoherently in Spanish.

  “Wait, wait, slow down and speak English. What are you talking about? Who came for the baby?”

  “I do not know! They big, strong. They have guns. We no able to stop them.”

  If Elijah had been wearing the heart monitor that was currently strapped to Tilly’s chest, it’d be sounding code blue alarms throughout the hospital since he was pretty sure his ticker just stopped. Men with guns had entered the compound? Horror struck. Rob and Clint. Had they turned on him? Ganged up to overthrow his authority? “María, was it Mr. Tobin? Did he come for his baby?”

  “No! I do not know these men. Mr. Tobin was not with them. These men were huge. Conans, I think.”

  Conans? “You mean Barbarians?”

  “Sí, sí. Barbarians.”

  The first thought that flashed though his mind was Henry. He was huge, very much like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Conan the Barbarian. Henry was muscular, though his weren’t the pumped up, steroid-enhanced kind. Had Henry turned on him? But no, that didn’t make sense. First, he had no way of knowing about the underground rooms, including the nursery and second, why would he even want the baby? Had the old women been downing too many shots of the expensive tequila they favored? He kept them well-stocked with the libation.

  “María, have you been drinking?”

  “What? No! Mr. Richie, we are no drunk!”

  “Where are you, María?”

  “We scared, Mr. Richie! We run! I do not know where.”

  If they were indeed sober, he was in big trouble. Who could the men be? SWAT? He felt like María’s call detonated a bomb, and now the walls he’d so painstakingly built brick by brick were crumbling down around him. He disconnected and dialed Rob. Why hadn’t one of his men called to warn him? Were they being detained? If so, those asshats would sing at the first opportunity. Elijah had no delusions that they would remain faithful to him. They’d both crack under the tiniest amount of pressure.

  “Where the hell are you?” he asked when Rob picked up.

  There was a pause, and then “Richard Caraway?”

  He sucked in a harsh breath and fumbled with the off button. That hadn’t been Rob who picked up the phone. Clint, either. And the most terrifying thing of all was that he hadn’t been Richard Caraway in over a decade.

  #

  Talia forced in a breath, held it, and slowly let it go. She wanted to smack these women who were guilty of aiding and abetting a criminal. She rose to her feet. “Now is the time to be honest with me. I will not give you a second chance. How long have you been with Elijah or Richie or whatever the hell you call him?”

  María spoke softly and Talia had to strain to hear. “Since Ms. Tilly was a little girl.”

  “You took care of Tilly?” The women nodded eagerly, like freshly-flicked bobbleheads. Did they think that tidbit of information would win them points? So very, very wrong. “You have been with Elijah as he travels the country starting cults and then killing all of the members?” She didn’t have proof of her claims, but she’d pieced together what Tilly told her. She knew he sold the babies and she couldn’t see the parents allowing that unless they were deceased.

  “We know nothing of that!” Rosa insisted. “We just take care of the babies.”

  She leaned over until she was in the woman’s face. “Do you know what happened to all of those babies you took care of?” The woman guiltily averted her eyes. “They were sold, like cattle at an auction, after their parents were slaughtered. And you are accessories to all these crimes.”

  “No—”

  “Shut. Up. I do not want to hear one more word from your mouths. You are horrible excuses for human beings. That you could care for a baby and then just stand by while its parents are killed as it is sold to the highest bidder? That’s incomprehensible.”

  “But the people, they want the babies. They can’t have them—”

  Talia stuck her finger in the woman’s face. “Do not tr
y to defend your actions. You are the worst kind of scum.”

  She stood as Mason disconnected the call and slid his cell in his pocket. Alarm bells rang at the look of frustration on his face.

  “What is it, Mason? What’s wrong?”

  “The cops stormed the hospital to arrest him, but came up empty.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Elijah is in the wind.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Elijah shook so hard, his teeth rattled. Whoever had invaded the compound knew his background, his humble beginnings as Richie Caraway, son of a traveling evangelist.

  He rushed into the hallway and found a wheelchair. He caught a glimpse of Cindi, the hot young nurse he’d flirted with earlier, and waved her over.

  “I need to get my sister out of here right now. The people who did this to her are after her. Her life’s in danger. Can you help me?”

  “Of course. I’ll get my supervisor—”

  “No!” He forced a smile and gentled his tone. “The fewer people who know, the better. It’ll be safer for everyone that way.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue, and he was about to grab her and force her to comply when she nodded. “Okay, but we need to hurry.” She checked up and down the hall. “It’s almost time for a shift change.”

  He followed her into the room as she headed for the machines and turned them off. She took care to remove the tubes and lines from Tilly’s body. When she removed the last wire, he gently shook his sister’s shoulders.

  “Tilly, wake up. We need to go.”

  She woke groggy and disoriented. “What happened, Richie? My leg hurts.”

  “You’ve had surgery but you’re fine now.” He addressed Cindi. “Can you give her painkillers?”

  She nodded and reattached the IV, inserting the needle in the stint in Tilly’s arm before placing the bag in Tilly’s lap.

  “What about for the road?”

  “I’ll have to grab some. Do you have a car?”

  “No.”