Raw Talent

by Debra Webb

  Extraordinarily intense blue eyes…unruly, sandy-blond hair…ruggedly handsome face.

  Trevor Sloan.

  She had memorized every damned detail of what he looked like years ago…had dreamed about this day every waking moment for months and months…

  He stood barely three feet from her.

  Her weapon was leveled center chest.

  All she had to do was to pull the trigger and it would be done.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I know who you are.”

  The words reverberated through Gabrielle and suddenly her body was quaking, as if the words had set off some chain reaction.

  “The way I see it, we can settle this now or we can go in there and help out your friends,” he added.

  Her palms started to sweat, forcing her to tighten her grip on the butt of her 9 mm.

  His gaze never deviated from hers. If the weapon pointed at him worried him, he didn’t let it show. He just kept staring at her as if the ball was in her court and she needed to take her serve.

  During the trauma-filled moments that followed, Gabrielle considered that if she put her gun away, basically gave up her advantage, he could whip out his weapon and put a bullet in her before she could blink.

  Maybe he would kill her, but she couldn’t sweat about that just now. She had to get in there and save Braddock and Amy. Every second she squandered standing here put Braddock that much closer to dead…she swallowed hard…if he wasn’t already.

  Apprehension pulsing in her veins, she lowered her weapon. “I take it you have a plan?”

  He glanced toward the gate that had closed behind the entourage of vehicles. “Let’s see what Chico gave us to work with.”

  Startled that he knew about her negotiations with the less than savory character, she heard herself ask, “How did you know I talked to Chico?” She cringed at how stupid the question was. His explosives contact had obviously called to let him know someone was throwing his name around.

  “Let’s just say you’ve been anything but subtle, Miss Jordan, and leave it at that.”

  Indignation seeped in, overriding the other, more awkward feelings. She started to tell him that he could keep his smart-ass remarks to himself but he didn’t give her the chance.

  “Whatever your agenda with me, you helped my sons, for that I owe you. I always repay my debts.”

  That he called Josh his son wasn’t lost on her, nor was the concept that he settled his debts.

  So this was Sloan, the man of honor, the hero.

  The man who’d killed her father.

  Hard as it proved, she held back that accusation. “How do we make this happen?”

  A grin hitched up one corner of his grim mouth. “Now that’s the easy part. You just do what I tell you and we’ll get through this alive.”

  For what it was worth, she believed him.

  Sloan didn’t go in quietly and covertly, as she’d planned to. Instead he’d slung his arm around her neck and pulled her close as if she were his girlfriend. She resisted at first, but her need to help Braddock and Amy overrode her conflict. Together she and Sloan strolled, and stumbled, over to the guard shack.

  The guard promptly ordered them to get lost.

  “All I need is a light, man,” Sloan said, sounding inebriated and waving a cigarette he’d produced from the pocket in his denim jacket. He shoved his hand through his hair and looked around. “I think we’re lost, baby.”

  More cursing from the guard who didn’t want them hanging around.

  “All right, all right,” Sloan assured him. He waved his arms magnanimously. “Just tell me how to get outta here and we’re gone.”

  The guard stepped out of his small, protective structure and pointed to the right while blustering in broken English which direction they should take.

  Sloan moved closer to him as if trying to understand what and where he meant. The guard abruptly slumped forward. Sloan ushered him back into the guard shack and pressed the button that would open the gate.

  Still standing with her jaw sagging, realization finally kicked in as she saw Sloan shove the weapon back into his waistband. Silencer. His weapon was equipped with a silencer. She should have gotten one of those from that ratfink Chico.

  As soon as they were inside Sloan closed the gate and snagged the dead guard’s walkie-talkie.

  Two minutes and Gabrielle was impressed already.

  She evicted the thought and reminded herself that this was Sloan…her father’s killer. He didn’t deserve her admiration, however fleeting.

  They stole their way to the closest building. Rows of bunks identified the structure as barracks for the men who served the evil bastard running this operation.

  With Gabrielle playing the part of assistant, Sloan planted C-4 in two places in the deserted building.

  “Just enough to ensure they’ll need to remodel right away,” he explained with another of those lopsided smiles.

  Two more smaller buildings were rigged for fireworks and the final one besides the main house had been searched before the alarm sounded.

  Gabrielle moved up behind Sloan. He’d used two parked SUVs for cover to get closer to the main house.

  “Guess that means they found the guard,” Gabrielle suggested. Anxiety had tightened like a noose around her neck. They still hadn’t found Braddock or Amy. That their presence would now be known made the situation all the more urgent.

  “We still have the main house,” he said, seemingly oblivious to her growing panic. “We have to assume he’s keeping them there.”

  Unless they were dead already and he’d disposed of the bodies.

  God, why hadn’t she moved more quickly? It had been hours since she’d slipped away from here, leaving Amy and Braddock to face certain death. She should have been able to do something…anything.

  “We don’t have time for that,” Sloan said, recognizing her self-deprecation and hauling her attention back to him.

  Shouts and the sound of boots running over cobblestone were multiplying all around them. He was right. They had to do this now.

  “Let’s roll.” She was ready. She wanted to take down every one of these scumbags she could. Until there was no one left standing.

  She surveyed the rear of the main residence. Armed men were everywhere. No way they could get past them.

  “Let’s give them something to talk about.” Sloan depressed the button on the transmitter and an explosion shook the ground.

  The men scattered. Sloan rushed toward the house. Gabrielle stayed right on his heels. The main house was stucco and brick with a typical tiled roof. Huge, bigger than Sloan’s maybe. Three floors that sprawled to within a dozen feet of the towering security walls on either side.

  The shouting and other buzz of hysteria echoed around the compound. The distraction had worked like a fight breaking out in the prison yard. No one wanted to miss the possibility of spilled blood or broken bones.

  Getting in through the back door of the house without being spotted was a cinch. Avoiding the residents or the armed guerrillas was not.

  In the kitchen they hid in the pantry when hurried footsteps echoed in the hall.

  Gabrielle’s head had started to spin. She steeled herself and refused to give in to the fatigue. She hadn’t eaten since the wild potatoes and strawberries. She’d had little or no sleep. And she was so damned confused.

  None of this was turning out the way she’d expected.

  What happened to her simple plan?

  The kids had happened.

  Braddock had happened.

  And now him.

  She forced her eyes open and stared at the man through the semidarkness. How could she be hiding in a food closet with her father’s killer?

  Sloan peered through the crack as he slowly opened the door. “Clear,” he muttered.

  Chastising herself for being distracted yet again, she made sure she didn’t fall behind as she followed him through the kitchen. She couldn’t let anything slow
down her reactions.

  A scream echoed from somewhere deep inside the house. She and Sloan stalled in the middle of the kitchen.

  Amy.

  Gabrielle didn’t have to visually confirm her assumption, she knew it was Amy.

  “Basement.”

  Gabrielle agreed with Sloan’s conclusion. The scream had sounded as if it came from beneath them.

  “Time for another sideshow.”

  A second explosion, this one closer, felt as if it shook the foundation of the massive house.

  Sloan had explained how to use a single channel transmitter for more than one signal. All one had to do was change the settings. Chico had failed to go over that part with her. Maybe he figured she would never make it this far. He’d probably expected to hear a big bang rather quickly after she’d taken off with the goods he’d charged to Sloan’s tab.

  Rather than the basement door being in the kitchen, they found it in the mammoth entry hall. One door offered a coat closet while the other opened to a set of stairs that curved and plunged beneath the house.

  Sloan paused and listened midway down the steps. The ninety-degree turn would expose them to anyone in the large underground room.

  “Shoot them both and let’s get out of here.”

  Terror rocketed inside Gabrielle at the harshly issued order that came from beyond their position.

  Before Sloan could stop her, she’d barreled around him and down the final few steps. She was firing off rounds before she hit the stone floor. She rolled for cover and popped off a couple more rounds.

  The hissing puffs accompanying Sloan’s silenced weapon told her he’d followed suit. He’d taken cover behind a table a few feet away from her concealed position near a stainless steel cart.

  The three armed guards went down, but the man in the fancy suit was taking the stairs two at a time.

  “I’ve got him,” Sloan shouted at her. “Get them out of here.”

  It wasn’t until he gave the order that she let herself look. Somehow she’d avoided doing that, had focused entirely on taking down the guards.

  Amy struggled to her feet. Her blouse was ripped and there was blood, but Gabrielle couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

  “I’m okay,” Amy said shakily. “Just gotta stop this bleeding. Take care of A.J.”

  Gabrielle’s heart practically stopped in her chest when she let her gaze settle fully on Braddock.

  Hanging by his arms, which were secured high above his head, he looked unconscious. His head hung against his bare chest.

  As Gabrielle hurried toward him, shouted his name, he didn’t move.

  Her palms flattened on his cool skin and her breath caught harshly when she felt his heart beating.

  Thank God. Thank God.

  She lifted his face toward hers and another gasp escaped her. His face was grotesquely bruised and swollen.

  “Braddock,” she whispered, emotion tightening her throat and firing up behind her eyes. “Open your eyes, Braddock.” She cleared her throat. “I’m here to save your ass. The least you could do is say thanks.”

  He tried to open his eyes but that wasn’t happening. “’Bout time,” he muttered past lips brutally split.

  She had to get him loose. Gabrielle dragged a chair over and climbed up on it to cut him loose. He crumpled to the floor.

  “Come on, Braddock,” she urged, ushering her shoulder under his arm. “Get on your feet. You can lean on me.”

  He groaned, his body shuddering as she tugged against his weight.

  “Hurry.” Amy was suddenly on the other side of him, helping to pull him to his feet. “We have to get out of here!”

  Between the two of them they managed to get Braddock up the narrow staircase. Gabrielle checked the entry hall before they moved from the safety of the small landing at the top of the stairs.

  “We need to stop Fuentes,” Braddock muttered.

  “Don’t try to talk,” Gabrielle told him, scared to death there was far more damage than what she could see.

  “George Fuentes is the son of a bitch responsible for this slave trade operation,” Amy explained as they hurried toward the kitchen.

  Gabrielle figured going out the back, the way she and Sloan had come in, would be the best.

  “Which one was he?” She assumed he would be the guy in the suit Sloan had taken off after, but she didn’t know for sure.

  “The bastard in the suit,” Amy confirmed.

  “Sloan went after him,” she said, feeling Braddock’s weight dragging more heavily. He was really weak. He wasn’t going to make it across the compound.

  “There’s too many of them.” Amy was staring out the rear door.

  Gabrielle looked past her. Armed men were running around in circles. Panic had set in completely now. There was no sign of Sloan or the other guy, Fuentes.

  “Let’s try the front.” Gabrielle shifted to head in the other direction but Braddock went down onto his knees, pulling her with him.

  “Go without me,” he said hoarsely.

  “No way.” Gabrielle tugged harder. “Get up. We’re not leaving without you.”

  “Come on, A.J.,” Amy urged. “You can make it.”

  Gabrielle didn’t realize tears were slipping down her cheeks until the salty taste hit her lips. Dammit. She wasn’t going to leave him here like this. She was mad. Why the hell was she crying?

  When he still didn’t get up, she dropped to her knees and took his face in her hands. “Look, Braddock.” He couldn’t, of course, but he would understand what she meant. “We have unfinished business. Now move!”

  SHE WAS RIGHT…they did have unfinished business. A.J. summoned his strength. Forced his legs to work. He couldn’t let his condition handicap Gabrielle and Amy. If they refused to leave him, he had no other choice but to suck it up and make his body obey.

  “We’re out of here,” he mumbled as he pushed upward and began to lurch forward once more. He could barely see through the tiny slits of his swollen eyes.

  There wasn’t any time to ask how the hell she and Sloan ended up working together. Or how they’d orchestrated the explosions. He was just happy as hell to see her. His chest hurt with the need to hug her or cry or maybe both.

  Another thirty seconds and he and Amy would have been history.

  By the time they reached the entry hall again his entire body pretty much felt as if it were on fire. Broken ribs and more. Not sure just what, but something that wouldn’t let him take in a breath without serious pain.

  Gabrielle braced him against the wall near the front door. “Don’t move,” she instructed.

  “Don’t worry.”

  Amy slumped next to him against the wall.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  But he knew she wasn’t.

  “It’s clear.” Gabrielle moved back into place beneath his right arm like a human crutch. “But we’ve gotta get out of here, they’re shooting each other out there. If they figure out we’re still in here, we’re done for.”

  The sun beat down on him the instant they exited the shade of the veranda. The brightness hurt his eyes. He tried to keep up with Gabrielle’s long strides but his legs wouldn’t work right.

  He was slowing them down.

  SHE HAD TO KEEP him moving.

  A third explosion rent the air and Gabrielle knew that was a signal from Sloan that he was still alive. She hoped he’d gotten Fuentes. Right now she had her hands full with Braddock.

  Shouting to her right warned her that they’d been spotted. She fired twice. One guy hit the ground. She didn’t look back. Didn’t let her mind dwell on the fact that she’d just killed another man.

  Faster. They needed to move faster.

  The ragtag group reached the final building on the compound and Gabrielle’s anxiety had reached full throttle. Getting through that side gate was the last hurdle. But from her current position she couldn’t determine if it was safe to proceed.

  Gabrielle braced Braddoc
k against a wall and shoved her 9 mm at Amy. “Shoot anything that moves except me or Sloan.”

  Amy nodded, her fingers trembling as her right hand wrapped around the butt of the weapon.

  “Let me go,” Braddock rasped. “I can do that much.”

  “Forget it. You’re practically blind.” She didn’t give him any time to argue. She ran as fast as she could to the other end of the building.

  Flattened against the wall, she took a moment to relish the coolness of the stucco where the fierce Mexican sun couldn’t reach.

  This was it. The final stretch to freedom. Braddock and Amy were still alive. They were almost in the clear.

  She just had to get through this last part.

  Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, Gabrielle leaned past the corner, surveyed the drab landscape between the back of the building and the side gate.

  Relief rushed through her.

  Clear.

  She hurried back to the other end of the building, her heart pumping with anticipation.

  Almost out of here.

  Almost safe.

  “Let’s go,” she ordered as she skidded to a stop.

  She propped herself under Braddock’s arm and propelled him toward freedom, down the last stretch and—

  Face-to-face with two armed men who rounded the far corner, wild-eyed with fury.

  She was suddenly on the ground.

  Braddock dove into the two men.

  Shots rang out.

  Gabrielle scrambled back to her feet.

  Braddock and one of the men were rolling on the ground. The other charged Gabrielle.

  Amy fired.

  The charging man dropped like a rock.

  Braddock.

  Gabrielle’s gaze shifted to the two men scuffling on the ground then to Amy. Amy had swung her aim in their direction, but her hand was shaking so badly…

  “Don’t shoot,” Gabrielle yelled. “You could hit—”

  A gun blast detonated, towing Gabrielle’s attention back to the men on the ground.

  Both men were strangely still…

  No! She threw herself onto her knees next to them. The guy on top—the bad guy—abruptly rolled to the side. Braddock struggled to sit up.