Salvaging His Soul

by Samantha A. Cole

  What the idiots on the yacht hadn’t noticed were the men who’d slipped off the fishing boat prior to their arrival. Since neither Nick nor Marco would be able to communicate, Jacob had taken one of their comm units and announced, “Two SEALs in the water heading for the big fish, boys and little lady. Get ready to reel ʼem in.”

  Under the black balaclava now covering his face, the corners of Jase’s mouth twitched upward. The old man was enjoying being part of a military-style mission again. If everyone survived this, Jase would think about seeing if he could use Jacob in other operations from time to time.

  “Shades, Cookie, get ready to shut this party down,” Ian whispered into his mic. Also with his face covered, he was crouched down, waiting for the nearest patrolling guard to come a little closer. On the other side of the property, Carter was getting ready to do the same. “Now.”

  “Systems down,” came the quiet confirmation from Florida.

  “Jammer on,” added the former Secret Service agent.

  Jase readied his MP5 assault weapon, on loan from Trident’s armory, as Ian prepared to pounce once the guard passed their hiding place. The clueless asshole never saw the camouflaged, retired SEAL rise up from the shadows and, on silent feet, rush him from behind. A well-placed KA-BAR below the left shoulder blade, between two ribs, resulted in an instant death for the man. He never had a chance to yell or fight as the blade sliced into his heart. He was dead before Ian dragged him into the foliage and dropped him like a sack of potatoes. It hadn’t been murder—those bastards had started a war. But Jase, Ian, and the others were going to end it. “Let’s go, twatwaffle.”

  With the security cameras short circuited, two guards down—Carter had taken out the other at the same time as Ian—and the white blinds drawn on most of the windows, the coast looked clear. With any luck, they should be able to cross the grassy expanse between the treeline and the mansion without being detected. The two men readying the boat to transport the women were too busy to notice anything was wrong around the sides of the building, and if they did, Chase would snipe both before they could sound an alarm. Nick and Marco would board the yacht and put anyone onboard, who wasn’t being held hostage, out of commission.

  Staying low and alert, Jase and Ian hightailed it to the front of the estate and flattened themselves against the stucco. Jordyn and Carter did the same coming from the other direction as the rest of the entry team approached the rear patio. Moving stealthily, they closed the distance to the front door and waited for everyone to be synchronized. When Reese said they were in position, Ian began the countdown. “Three . . . two . . . one . . . engage.”

  The two guards, who’d escorted them downstairs, tied the women’s hands in front of them. After her wrists were bound, Brie had been so busy glaring at the Domme across the room, she hadn’t realized she knew at least one other sick bastard in the room until he stepped in front of her, blocking her view. Her stomach revolted as he caressed her cheek, and his British accent skated across her skin like a slithering snake. “Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Did you miss me, love?”

  Knocking Master Taye’s hand away, she spat in his face, surprised she had enough saliva in her mouth to do it. His upper lip curled into a sneer as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his face. He was so calm throughout the act she never saw his intended reaction until he backhanded her across her cheek. Agony bloomed as she fell to the floor from the force of the blow. There were gasps, shrieks, and yelps from the other hostages. Brie fought the automatic, pain-induced tears brimming to the surface, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  Reaching down, Angie and Nadine helped Brie get to her feet. Once again, she glared at the asshole who’d hit her. An ugly sneer still covered his face. “I love feisty women. Instead of sending you to a fate worse than death, I’ll take great pleasure in breaking you myself. Your sister was too damn easy. You, however, well, let’s just say I love a challenge.” He grabbed her upper arm and shoved her into one of the guards. “Take her back upstairs.”

  “No!” Nadine cried out, fear and disbelief covered her face. She reached out to her sister, but the guard was already dragging Brie into the foyer toward the stairs. “Brie! Don’t! Let her go! Please!”

  Digging her feet in didn’t help as the bastard almost yanked her arm out of its socket. Brie glanced back and saw Angie holding Nadine, trying to comfort her, as she begged the unsympathetic Dom not to separate them. The two front door bouncers from Perdition blocked them from following Brie. Was this the last time she’d see her younger sister? Where were they going to take her? What about Amy and Angie? What would they do with the pregnant woman and her baby?

  The other women were herded further into the room. Brie heard one of the men order them to walk through the dining room and out to the lanai. The boat they’d been waiting for must have arrived.

  As they approached the second-floor landing, a plan began to formulate in Brie’s mind—it was a weak plan, but right now, it was all she could come up with. Halfway up the next flight of stairs, Brie purposely stumbled and fell onto the steps. Kicking her feet out, hard, she caught the guard in the balls. He bellowed in pain as he lost his balance and began to fall backward, his arms swinging as he tried to remain standing. It was then that all hell broke loose.

  A loud thud and the sound of splintering wood came from the front door. A heartbeat or two later, there were simultaneous blasts. A blinding light flashed up the stairwell followed by a loud boom. Brie instinctively ducked, afraid the house was exploding. Screams of terror filtered up from the first floor. Glancing down to the landing, she saw the guard who’d been escorting her lying on the floor. A combination of surprise, pain, and anger on his face, he hadn’t fallen hard or far enough to do much damage. He lifted his gun and aimed it at her as shouting filled the air. This was it. She was going to die. And she’d never told Jase she loved him.

  Come on, Ian, damn it! It would really mean a lot if you rode in on your white horse right about now. Little Bit and I need you! I’ll forgive you for everything if you just kick in the damn door and rescue us! Please!

  Even though her wrists were tied, Angie had use of her hands as she held Nadine’s. If the younger woman didn’t calm down or did something stupid, she risked being hurt by one of the men . . . or that woman dressed in black. She stood regally next to a baby grand piano with a glass of wine in her hand. There was an air of superiority about her—as if everyone in the room were beneath her—and it struck a chord with Angie. It took her a moment before she realized the woman vaguely reminded her of Mistress China, one of the Whip Masters at The Covenant. Although, under her tough exterior, the Domme had a heart of gold.

  Earlier, Brie had been glaring across the room, her gaze fixated on the woman, but Angie hadn’t been able to figure out why. She’d been too worried about everything that was happening and was terrified for Little Bit. Not only was her life at stake, along with all these women who’d been held hostage, but so was her child. Ian’s child. The one they’d both loved more than life itself the second they’d learned she was pregnant.

  A cell phone sitting on the bar rang, and the Hispanic man, who’d met them at the door earlier, picked it up. There was a brief exchange before he disconnected the call and began issuing orders. One of the guards pushed Amy and then two other women further into the room. “Go! That way!” He indicated for them to follow Greg and Brandon into the dining area and beyond.

  Nadine and Angie were next. In her rising panic and the flurry of activity, Angie hadn’t notice someone else had left the room. All that swirled through her mind was her husband and unborn child. Damn it, Ian! Where the hell—

  Before she could finish the thought, the world exploded around them.

  C

  HAPTER 20

  R earing back, Ian kicked in the door, then quickly got out of the way for Jase to throw the flash-bang into the foyer. Both men ducked far enough outside to avoid having the bright
flash of light hinder their vision and the loud boom deafen them. On the other side of the house, the same thing was done. Immediately, there was shrieking, yelling, and cursing, amid the chaos. Leading with the muzzle of his MP5, Jase rolled around the destroyed frame of the front door, his eyes searching for targets and hostages. Two men were on the floor, writhing in pain. Jase kicked one in the face, knocking him out, while Ian did the same to the other man. Gunfire exploded and they both took cover, firing their weapons in response. A flash of blonde hair in what looked like a dining area, on the other side of the room where the gunfire was coming from, caught Jase’s eye. Angie. She dove under the massive, dark, oak table, taking Nadine and Amy with her. There were other women in there, screaming and cowering. Where the hell is Brie?

  Everyone in the living room had a gun and was shooting toward the foyer. That meant they were all fair game. A bullet struck the door frame above Jase’s head, and he adjusted his aim to kill the man who’d fired it—one of those jackasses from the pool. Opposite him, Ian was doing his own damage. More gunfire came from both the rear and south sides of the house where the rest of the team had entered through two separate doors. As long as no one was shooting into the dining room, the women should, hopefully, be safe.

  Ian zeroed in on Chaplin and pumped several shots into his body, causing him to dance unnaturally until he fell on the floor, dead. Carter would be pissed he hadn’t been the one to kill the bastard, but he’d get over it. Gonzales kept popping up with a 9mm from behind a heavy, wooden bar. Jase paused and counted to three. Sure enough, the asshole’s head appeared over the top. Pulling the trigger, Jase sent out a burst of bullets that destroyed the man’s haircut—and his skull and brains.

  What felt like hours had, in reality, only been two or three minutes. The gunfire died down until all that was left were the fading echoes and heavy breathing. A sound behind them had both Ian and Jase spinning around, only to find it was Jordyn and Carter. Through the comm units, they heard Cowboy give the all clear for the back of the house. Chase then announced he’d sniped the two on the beach and the yacht had been secured by Nick and Marco, with two surviving tangos and five uninjured, female hostages. Jake was, sort of, the odd man out—he hadn’t needed to fire a shot.

  After making sure all the bad guys were dead or incapacitated, the team pulled off their balaclavas. Ian ran into the dining room to find Angie and make sure she was all right. Jase was about to follow, anxious to find Brie, but stopped short when he heard her shout from behind him, “Jase!”

  Spinning, his heart leaped into his throat as Carter and Jordyn brought their weapons up, aiming them at the two women coming down the stairs. Cara had one hand around Brie’s upper arm and in her other was a black, semi-automatic handgun, but it was aimed at the floor.

  Brie’s eyes widened at the muzzles being pointed in their direction, and threw up her hands. “No! Don’t shoot!”

  Beside her, Cara rolled her eyes. Her tone was droll when she asked, “Seriously? This is the thanks I get for saving the woman’s life?”

  She huffed in annoyance as she let go of Brie’s arm. Realizing there was no threat, Carter and Jordyn lowered their weapons, although the latter didn’t seem happy about it. When Jase rushed forward, Brie ran down the stairs and into his one-armed embrace. Carter reached over and took Jase’s MP5 so he could hold her with both arms. She buried her head into his chest.

  After a moment, he pulled away just far enough to look down at her, making sure she was uninjured. Cupping her jaw, he kissed her. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I still need to get my revenge for you acting like an ass.”

  He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he pulled her close again. “Any time, baby. Any time.”

  As Cara came down the stairs, Jordyn glared at her, but Carter just shook his head. “Cara. Want to tell us what the hell is going on?”

  She dragged her nails across his chest as she passed by him on her way to the living room, causing Jordyn to growl. “Hands off, Mistress. Unless you want to lose them.”

  The Domme glanced over her shoulder at Jordyn, then looked at Carter. “Now I see why you use a ball-gag on her.” Her eyes flit back to the other woman. “And it’s ‘Lady Cara,’ subbie. I’m nobody’s Mistress.” She sashayed into the living room and the others had no choice but to follow her as she continued.

  Ian had his arm around Angie’s waist in the doorway of the dining room. He nodded at Jase and Carter. “No injuries to the women.”

  Nadine spotted her sister and brushed past Ian and Angie, side-stepping a dead body with revulsion. “Brie! Are you okay?”

  As the two women hugged, reassuring themselves the other was indeed unharmed, Carter eyed Cara. “Start explaining, because we have to clear out of here before the cops show up.”

  So far no one had called in a report of shots fired—probably due to the distance between the estate and its closest neighbors. From back in Tampa, Cook had also hacked into the island’s emergency services and would alert them if the police were dispatched. But that didn’t mean they could lollygag.

  Cara peered at the women in the dining room, all of whom appeared shell-shocked by what had just occurred. Jase was surprised to see her frown as she asked the nearest one, “Is this all of you?”

  The young blonde looked over one shoulder and then the other at the women behind her, then turned back and nodded. “Yes. We’re all here.”

  Her lips pursed. “Damn.”

  “Cara, who are you looking for?” Carter asked with sympathy.

  Dipping her hand under the deep V-neck of her shirt, she pulled a small photo out of her bra and handed it to him. “My younger cousin’s best friend—Melinda Stuart. It was a longshot; she’s been missing for two months from Rodney Bay. She disappeared after leaving work at one of the resorts. I’d heard rumors that Chaplin was involved in women disappearing, so I worked him, letting him know I was interested in getting my hands dirty.” She shrugged. “Well, dirtier. Unfortunately, it looks like I was too late. My intent was to find out where they take the girls from here, but in good conscience, I couldn’t let them take all of these women . . .” she cocked her head toward the huddled group, “. . . in order to save just one. I’ll have to find another way to track Melinda down. She wouldn’t be on the boat since that was coming from the islands north of here, and this was the last stop before taking them all to Venezuela. From there, I don’t know where they go. Since I knew you’d make sure none of the women ended up on the boat, I snuck up the back stairs to make sure she didn’t need any help.”

  Cara gestured toward Brie, who responded, “And I thank you for that.” She looked at Jase and added, “She killed the guard just as he was getting ready to shoot me. Chaplin wanted to keep me for himself before you came storming in.”

  A cold chill went down his spine as he realized how close he’d come to losing her. He’d forever be in Lady Cara’s debt for saving his woman.

  Ian held out his hand and took the photo from Carter. He glanced at it then pulled his phone out and took a picture of it before handing it back to Cara. “We’ve been working on this case from another angle.” He wouldn’t elaborate, but did reassure her. “If we find out anything about her, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

  A grateful smile appeared on her pretty face. “I appreciate it. Now, why don’t you wipe this place clean. If you get the girls from the boat, I’ll take all of them into town and explain what they’ll tell the police. You know, how it looks like a rival cartel decided to take this one out and how the girls escaped during the fighting and they have no idea who anyone is.”

  A few chuckles came from the men while a soft curse came from Jordyn. “Damn. I really want to hate you, and then you go and do something like that.”

  The Domme in Cara returned as she smirked at the other woman. “Don’t worry, subbie. I’m sure I’ll do something that will have you hating me again real soo
n.”

  Jase helped Brie bring out the last round of drinks for everyone sitting at a table on the lanai of Daddy-O’s. Jacob, Carter, Jordyn, and Ian each got a beer, while Angie accepted a club soda with lime. Nadine and Amy had both opted for strawberry daiquiris. They’d taken Ian’s jet back to Caicos late yesterday afternoon, and the two couples from the states were staying on the island in a nearby resort until heading home tomorrow. They were relaxing after a delicious dinner as the sun had set. Jase was actually surprised Brie had let her staff run things without her input for the evening. Usually, she was fully involved, filling in where she was needed and sometimes where she wasn’t. The staff had done a great job over the past few days, handling any problems that’d surfaced with proficiency. It made Brie realize she could take some time off every now and then to have some fun, and Jase was going to make sure she did that more often.

  Pulling out Brie’s chair for her, Jase waited until she was sitting before taking the seat next to her. It was less than forty-eight hours since the rescue, and he hadn’t let her out of his sight since. After Cara had left with the women, everyone else worked quickly to erase any evidence of their presence. From Tampa, Cook had made sure the security recordings for the entire week had been wiped clean. The men who’d been knocked unconscious in the foyer of the mansion, the only two who’d survived, had been tied up and left there for the police to deal with since neither of them had seen anyone’s faces other than the hostages—Cara had said they were lackeys who were dumb as rocks and only there as muscle. The other two men from the boat had been turned over to an operative Carter and Jordyn worked with to be interrogated. Last Jase had heard, they were signing like canaries, but, unfortunately, most of what they’d spilled their guts about was intel Trident and the FBI were already aware of. Their best bet was still Darius “Batman” Knight from Trident’s Omega Team who’d infiltrated a faction of the cartel in Argentina.