by Cat Johnson
Jon hadn’t given Chris any rules of engagement for this op, but hell, he didn’t need any. He’d have no qualms taking out these bastards. And if they’d hurt Darci, there wouldn’t be enough pieces left to turn over to the Coast Guard after Chris and the sharks got done with them.
The lights of the land they’d left behind faded in the distance. He felt the speed they were traveling increase. Someone was on the throttle and intent on hauling ass away from the direction they’d come from.
The darkness worked in Chris’s favor as he moved through the shadows of the night. He kept his back pressed to the wall as he neared the windowed door to the bridge. He’d give anything for some grease paint and black clothes rather than his tan sports jacket and white shirt that stood out like a beacon.
Chris dared one quick look into the wheelhouse before he pulled back.
The man he saw at the helm, his eyes trained forward on the horizon, was definitely not the captain or any other crewmember Chris had been unaware of. The old AK-47 slung over the man’s back and the machete strapped to his waist was a dead giveaway.
He didn’t know where the captain was or what condition he was in. Hell, he didn’t know if there was a second man on the bridge with a gun to the captain’s head. He needed to see more.
Every second he wasted here was another moment all hell could break loose downstairs. He could still hear through Darci’s earpiece though the sounds were distant and muffled. He couldn’t hear her and that was enough to have him taking action to resolve this situation sooner rather than later.
Chris blew out a breath and moved fast. He swung open the door and raised his gun. “Drop your weapon!”
The man spun on him. He saw the revolver in the bastard’s hand. Chris aimed and pulled the trigger. A bloodstain blossomed and spread across the man’s T-shirt as he fell back and then slumped to the floor.
Chris surveyed the rest of the bridge. The captain was on the floor, bloody and gagged. His hands were tied behind him, but his eyes were open and wide, and he was most definitely alive. More importantly, there was no one else on the bridge.
He disarmed the hostage taker and felt for a pulse before he eased the throttle back, just a bit. Enough to slow them but not alert the hostage takers in the dining room that they’d lost control of the bridge.
Only then did Chris move to the captain on the floor. One swipe of his knife cut the plastic ties binding the man’s hands. Once freed, the captain pushed the gag out of his mouth. He eyed the man on the floor as the puddle of blood surrounding him spread. “Is he dead?”
“He should be by now. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” The captain struggled to stand. Chris helped him up.
“How many men did you see or hear?” He fired his questions at the captain fast while in the back of his mind a clock ticked silently. The life of every hostage in the dining room, and that of one in particular, weighed heavily on his shoulders
“Just the one, I think. He hit me from behind.”
“Is your radio working or did they knock it out?”
“It should be working.” The captain moved to the helm.
Thank God for that. “Call for help. I have to get down to the dining room. Two of your waiters and a one of the guys who boarded us have the guests pinned down. Oh, and turn this thing back toward US waters before we end up in Cuba. Real slow and gentle so they don’t notice before I can take care of them.”
“You sure you want to do that? Shouldn’t we wait for the Coast Guard to get here?”
“Hell no.” Chris handed him the handgun he’d taken off the dead guy. The AK and ammo he was keeping for himself. He saw the doubt on the man’s face and said, “Trust me. I know what I’m doing. Anybody tries to come in here and take this wheel, you shoot him. And that includes your wait staff. This was an inside job.”
The captain looked down at the gun and then back up at Chris. “You weren’t just regular Navy, were you?”
“No. Can you handle it up here?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.” Chris left the captain and headed downstairs. One battle won, but the hardest one remained.
~ * ~
Darci saw the flash of white pass in front of the glass door and her heart skipped a beat. It had to be Chris. She felt it to her bones. He was going to save her even though she had failed him by losing the communicator.
The mean guy who apparently didn’t speak English was busy talking to the two waiters when Mr. Collins caught her gaze. He widened his eyes, the silent question clear to Darci. He wanted to know where Chris was and why he wasn’t doing his job.
She knew he was doing his job, even if she couldn’t see or hear him. To help channel her fear, she’d concentrated on trying to think like Chris. She’d felt the vibration of the floor lesson and hoped that it meant the engine was slowing. She looked outside and saw the lights on horizon seemed to shift, as if the boat had turned changing direction ever so slowly.
It had been the change in the engine speed and direction that had alerted him to something being wrong in the first place. The fact the situation had reversed yet again gave her hope. Made her think that Chris might be responsible for the correction. Helped her believe he was working somewhere behind the scenes to fix things. To save her. To save them all.
Seeing Mr. Collins’s stare settle on her again, she glanced at the door where she’d seen the flash while tipping her head in that direction. His eyes widened in silent question. She nodded. He drew in a visible breath and reached for his wife hand.
She agreed with every emotion she saw on the man’s face. The fear. The hope. And the desire to hold onto someone dear.
Darci only hoped she’d have that chance again.
The lights on the horizon grew brighter and Darci wasn’t the only one who noticed. The man who’d hit her pointed out the window and started yelling to the two dressed as waiters. They shook their heads, speaking in his language but it was obvious they weren’t happy the lights of the Florida Keys were growing brighter.
He barked an order at the waiters. One headed out the door of the dining room.
Minutes ticked by and the discussion between the two remaining men grew more animated. The one waiter left pulled out a radio. He received no answer to his call. That spurred more rapid talking, and then some yelling.
Finally, it must have been decided the second waiter would go see what was taking the first one so long to return. All the while, the coast grew closer.
The waiter followed the same path the first had taken.
Darci held her breath. Moments passed and he didn’t return and no radio call came.
It had to be Chris. He was taking them out one at a time. She knew it. Hell, it would be easy for him. He probably didn’t even have to use his gun. He could just bop one on the head, drag him away and wait for the next one to emerge.
She looked toward the door again, and Chris was there, as if she’d conjured him, and wished him into being. He stood in the doorway, the gun she’d become used to sitting on the table next to the bed while they made love in his hand. The two big guns he must have taken from the waiters were slung over his shoulder.
Gun aimed at the one remaining man, Chris said, “Drop your weapon.”
The man who had hit her, bloodied her lip, wasn’t going to give up just because Chris told him to.
She covered her mouth to stifle the scream as the man swung his weapon toward Chris, but Chris was quicker.
Facing head on a man intent on killing him, Chris shot. She wasn’t sure how many times Chris pulled the trigger before the man fell to his knees.
Chris stepped forward, shooting him twice more in the head.
It was like watching a different person. A stranger. Not the man she’d known for years. Not the guy who’d come drink beer with her brother. Not the man whose hands had held her for two days.
He bent and took the weapon from the man’s hands, slinging it over his shoulder before he kneeled and frisked t
he body. Chris emerged with what looked like explosives, another gun and a knife.
Only then did he raise his head and scan the room. His gaze hit her and she saw him visibly react to seeing her standing, safe and whole. Then he moved to Mr. and Mrs. Collins.
Darci wanted to go to him, but she couldn’t get her legs to move. She was shaking too badly. All she managed to do was pull herself into the nearest chair and sit.
It took longer than she’d like for Chris to calm their host and hostess down. The bride, who’d held it together during the episode, was hysterical now that it was over.
Finally, things had calmed enough that Chris came to her. He kneeled in front of her chair and raised his hand to touch her split lip.
“Which one hit you?” His tone was hard.
“Don’t worry. He’s dead.” She laughed, feeling herself nearing hysteria as she got suddenly very cold.
Cussing under his breath, Chris slid the big guns off his shoulders and laid them on the floor before he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Your holster will show.” That’s why he couldn’t give her his jacket before.
He smiled. “I think the jig is up, don’t you?”
She realized he was right and felt the tears rise again to the surface. “I was so worried.”
“You were worried? I was out of my mind when I lost comm with you. What happened?”
“It fell out of my ear when he hit me. I don’t know where it went.” She looked again at the carpet nearby so she could find it for him.
“It doesn’t matter where it went. It’s fine.” He gripped her shoulders, pulling her back to the moment. “Darci. Good God almighty, next time a man carrying an AK-47 yells at you, please don’t yell back.”
“Okay.” She frowned. “You think there’s going to be another time?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” He wrapped his arms around her while saying, “I’m gonna have to deal with some stuff. The Coast Guard should be here any minute. I’ve got the two waiters tied up on deck. There are two bodies to explain, and our host is mad at me.”
“Mad at you? For what?”
“Uh, let me get the wording right. For not coming up with a better way to save them than murdering a man in front of his guests.”
“Is he crazy? That guy could have killed us all.”
“I know. It’s okay. This kind of shit happens all the time.”
“But—”
“Darci, don’t worry about it. He aimed a loaded weapon at me in front of a room full of witnesses. And if that’s not enough to keep me out of trouble, Zane and his senator buddy will bail me out.”
Bail him out? Her mouth dropped open.
“Relax. He’ll calm down. The groom is on my side. So is the best man. They wanted me to give them the AKs so they could help keep guard until the authorities gets here.” Chris shook his head and sighed. “You’ll be okay while I deal with this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He squeezed her shoulder, shot her a smile, and then was gone, when what she really needed was to be wrapped in his arms so he could make her forget all of this.
CHAPTER 17
It was Saturday night and they were back in Virginia at Darci’s house with Rick and Jon. Chris had just finished delivering the mission wrap-up, with frequent and animated interjections from Darci, when Jon shook his head. “Wow. I’m so sorry things went down like that.”
Chris nodded. “So am I.”
The client hadn’t even wanted them to stay for the wedding. Not that they needed to. After the embarrassment of having their own yacht boarded by armed men, the resort was more than happy to bring in a whole crew of uniformed security for the duration of the Collins’s stay.
Chris was just as happy to be home. He’d had enough of putting Darci in danger. The scare must have taken ten years off his life.
Jon continued, “But I’m real glad you were there when the shit hit the fan. You handled it well.”
Chris accepted the compliment from Jon with a nod. “As well as I could, considering. Sorry the client wasn’t too happy with me.”
“Well, maybe next time forgo the double tap when you’re in front of a bunch of liberal rich folk.” Jon laughed.
Rick frowned. “Fuck them. Hell, Chris, you did great. If I couldn’t be there myself, I’m damn grateful you were there with Darci.”
“I agree.” Darci sent him a grateful look and Chris tried to fight the urge to reach out and hold her hand.
Instead, he shrugged. “I’m just glad it all worked out and no one was hurt. Except for the two pirates, that is.”
Jon laughed. “Yeah. And hopefully the two waiters will be going away for a long while and won’t get off on some loophole.”
That was always a possibility, but that part wasn’t Chris’s problem.
“Okay, well I have to get over to Ali’s.” Jon stood and moved to the front door. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“And I need to change clothes and get to work. Night shift.” Scowling, Rick got up from his chair.
Chris stood too, laughing. “Have fun with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Rick disappeared into his bedroom.
“I guess I’ll be going.” Chris turned toward the door when Darci stepped forward.
She laid one hand on his forearm. “Chris, wait. I thought maybe you could stay.”
The way she glanced at Rick’s door before she spoke, and how she kept her voice at a low whisper, had Chris asking, “Why?”
“So we could . . . you know.”
“Have sex.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry. Rick is working all night so he’ll never know.”
Chris laughed but it sounded as bitter as he felt. “Darci, I’m not doing this.”
Not after almost losing her. Life was too short and death too random to waste time. He wanted all of her or nothing at all. If that’s not what she wanted too, then it was time for him to move on.
He’d tried to prove what he could offer her on a full time basis, as a boyfriend. Her hiding what they had from her brother and friends was proof she didn’t want any of that.
Fuck that.
He wanted dinners, and dates, and Sundays spent doing everything or nothing at all as long as they were together.
She looked confused as she frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to be your booty call.”
“But I thought you’d be happy that I wasn’t looking for a commitment.”
He let out a breath. “No, I’m not happy.”
“I don’t understand. Why not?”
“Because if I let myself I’d already be head over heels for you. Hell, if we were together for real, I’d probably be down on one knee inside of six months.”
She looked flustered. Shocked. “Oh. I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
Not quite what he’d hoped for in reaction to what had amounted to the closest he’d ever come to a declaration of love.
“That’s because you never looked. Darci, you need to figure out what you want. If and when you decide you want the same things I do, you know where to find me.”
He was going to get angry if he didn’t leave. At her for being so blind to how he felt. At himself for feeling that way in the first place for a woman who didn’t give a shit about him.
Chris made it out the door and all the way to the truck still holding on to the vain hope she’d follow and cry out for him to wait, like some scene right out of Gone with the Wind.
She didn’t.
As he turned the key in the ignition, he glanced back at the house. At this point he’d settle for a flutter of the window curtain as proof she cared enough to at least watch him drive away. He didn’t even get that.
He threw the truck into reverse, and had to slam on the brakes when a car leaned on the horn and had to swerve to avoid hitting him. He blew out a breath and looked both ways this time before backing out of the driveway, vowing that if he di
dn’t feel more on an even keel soon, he’d pull over and calm down before attempting even the short drive home.
Thanks to Darci, he was too damned distracted to do even the most basic things, forget about navigate traffic.
He reached home without incident, though in no better mood. Especially when he found Brody’s truck in the driveway.
Crap.
Chris pushed through the front door. Brody glanced up from the sofa, took one look at him and asked, “What’s wrong.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Chris slammed the door behind him and headed to the fridge for a beer.
“A’ight.” Brody nodded and went back to watching whatever was on the television.
Chris took the last beer and didn’t feel at all guilty about that as he carried it to the living room and fell back into his favorite chair. “She’ll have sex with me but doesn’t want a relationship. What the hell is that about? What woman wants that? What? Am I not good enough for her?”
Brody turned his attention from the TV to Chris. “I’m assuming this is about Darci?”
“Who the hell else would it be about?” Chris scowled.
“Whoa. I’ll listen to you, I’ll drink with you, I’ll call her every cuss in the book if you want, but don’t take your mood out on me, bro.”
Chris felt the guilt hit him. “I’m sorry.”
“And since when are you two having sex? You told me nothing happened in Florida.”
“I lied.”
“And there goes our brotherly bond of trust.”
Chris looked up in time to find Brody smirking. “Shut up. I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Brody lifted on shoulder. “You’re the one who started talking.”
“Well, now I’m done.” Chris tried to focus on the TV.
The sound of the doorbell cut into the stony silence between them. When Chris didn’t make a move to get up, Brody hoisted himself off the couch. “I guess I’ll get it.”
It was probably Thom or one of the guys on Brody’s team, so he should be the one to get up and get it. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be Darci looking for him, so why should Chris get up?
