“We made him leave the room. Dr. Peters doesn’t like him.”
“How is she?”
Connor hesitated. “I don’t think she’s going to live much longer. She’s really pale.”
“How about Jean-Luc? Is he still bleedin’?”
“No. We used the quick-clot stuff from your kit like you said. He looks better, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“He might not for a while.” Depending on how much blood he lost, he might not wake up until he had a transfusion. “Listen, Connor. Lanie is on her way up to you with Seth, Ian, Marcus, and Danny. They’re gonna get you out of there very soon, and when they do, you need to tell them what you told me about Schumacher. Let them handle him.”
“Why aren’t you coming with them?” Connor sounded so small, very much like the boy who was once afraid of the monster in his closet and thought his dad was a superhero.
“I…” Want to be there. Want to hold you the moment you’re safe and know you’re okay. But he couldn’t manage to say any of that out loud. “I had to stay behind.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised.” Connor snorted derisively, trying to sound tough, but even over the phone, Jesse heard the emotion his son was battling back. “You were never there when I needed you. Why would it change now?”
Jesse nearly choked on the knot in his throat. “Connor…I didn’t stay away all those years because I wanted to. Your mother…” He trailed off, sighed to try and dislodge the ever-tightening knot. This wasn’t the way he’d planned on this conversation happening, but he had to make his boy understand.
Just in case things went FUBAR.
“For a long time, your mother didn’t want me around you. And I’m not blamin’ her,” he added quickly. “She was right. At the time, I wasn’t fit to be anyone’s parent. Hell, I was barely fit to be human. She was protectin’ you in her own way. And then, by the time she—” He stopped short, struggled to find the right words.
“When she didn’t care anymore,” Connor finished for him. “When she had a whole new family and didn’t want me around anymore. You can say it.”
Jesse winced. He couldn’t even deny it. He was ashamed of himself for being too weak to deal with life when Connor was younger, but he was even more ashamed of his ex-wife for casting their son aside when the boy turned out to be too much like him.
“I’m sorry, Connor. Jesus, I’m so sorry. Neither of us did right by you.”
Connor said nothing. The silence was the nonverbal equivalent of an eye roll.
This wasn’t going well.
Jesse didn’t want to point fingers at his ex when he was just as culpable for their failure as parents. He took a minute to sort his thoughts, then tried again. “By the time I was well enough to be a good father to you, the gap between us was already so big. Felt like I was starin’ across the Grand Canyon at you on the other side. I wanted to reach you, but I didn’t know how to make up for…everythin’. I still don’t, but if you’ll let me, I’d like a shot at tryin’.”
Another long silence, but this one was somehow softer, not as tense. Finally, Connor cleared his throat. “I think…I’d like that.”
All at once, his lungs opened up and it was like he could finally breath after drowning for years. “Okay. Okay. This will all be over soon. Lanie’s on her way up to you now.”
“I like her, too, Dad,” Connor said softly. “She’s…nice. Just so you know.”
He swallowed hard. “I’m glad you think so. I want her in our lives.” It was a revelation. A truth he hadn’t known until the words were spilling out of his mouth.
Jesus, he should’ve told Lanie before she left.
The phone beeped to indicate another incoming call. He checked the screen and recognized the number Briggs had called him from before. “Hang tight, Connor. Lanie will be there any minute. I have to go. I love you, son.”
Heart cracking wide open at Connor’s protest, he ended the call and accepted the incoming video call from Briggs. Nothing showed on the screen but the tile floor of the hotel’s lobby.
“Your hour’s up,” Briggs said.
Jesse checked the time. “Not yet. We have five minutes.”
“You’re cutting it close.”
“We can’t find the women. We think they escaped with the rest of the hotel staff and guests.”
“You’re lying. You have one of the doctors locked upstairs with your man. He could’ve brought her down at any time.”
The picture lifted to show one of the masked men holding a gun to Gabe’s head.
“Do it,” Briggs ordered.
“No! Wait! Our guy upstairs is injured. He’s unconscious. He can’t bring her down.”
“Then you should’ve told those kids in there to open up and let us take her. Do it,” Briggs said again.
Gabe drew a deep breath, but he didn’t shut his eyes. He unflinchingly stared death in the face—again. But the shot never came. The man holding the gun seemed to falter. His arm dropped to his side as if the gun was suddenly too heavy.
“What are you doing, old man?” Briggs demanded. “Shoot him.”
The man coughed up blood and slumped to the ground, the gun clattering to the floor. He wasn’t simply defying orders. There was something seriously wrong with him.
“Briggs, listen to me. Your man’s in trouble. Do you have a medic?”
“What?” Briggs snapped. He’d put the camera down to help his guy, and now all Jesse could see was the skylight in the ceiling. Too bad they didn’t have some tear gas. Drop a canister or two through that skylight and this whole situation would be over pretty damn fast.
“Do you have a medic on your team?” Jesse asked again, shouting to make sure he was heard. “Or a doctor among the hostages? Your guy is sick.”
Briggs didn’t answer. Instead, there was a grunt, like the huff of air a man made when he was punched solidly in the stomach. The sound of bodies thunking together in hand-to-hand combat. The camera spun as if someone had kicked it, but Jesse could still only see the ceiling. Still, he watched the small screen intently. Gabe, Quinn, and Harvard must have used the moment of distraction to their advantage and launched an attack against the hostage takers.
For one shining moment, Jesse hoped maybe this was the end of it. Gabe and Quinn were professionals. The former SEALs knew what they were doing. They’d gain the upper hand and everyone would finally be safe.
No such luck.
Jesse flinched at the bang of a gunshot followed by screams. Then silence that lasted so fucking long, he thought he might pass out from holding his breath in gut-wrenching anticipation.
Finally, the camera moved. Someone picked it up and pointed it at the group of hostages. One down, blood spreading in a pool around a brunette head. He squinted at the screen, wishing the picture was bigger.
Was that…Harvard?
The camera shifted, and Jesse released his breath in relief. The Tangos had Gabe, Quinn, and Harvard on their knees, hands locked behind their heads. Harvard was bleeding from a gash over his eyebrow, but that was better than a bullet in the brain. Quinn’s lip was split and swollen, and Gabe was going to have a massive black eye soon. His lid was already swelling shut.
The camera zoomed in on the dead man. Mid-twenties, maybe. Brunette with blue eyes that stared, glassy and sightless, at the ceiling. His expression was one of frozen shock. Nearby, a woman about the same age had crumpled into a sobbing heap while the other hostages tried to comfort her.
“You have another hour,” Briggs said, almost mechanically. Like he, himself, was in shock.
That was the voice of a man who hadn’t meant to kill anyone. That was a man having second thoughts. Jesse could use that.
“Briggs. How’s your man?”
A pause. “He’s breathing blood. How do you think he is?”
“Let me come in and treat him. And anyone else who needs it.”
Briggs gave a humorless laugh. “I was right about you, medic.”
“Yea
h, you were. I hate seein’ people die needlessly when I can do somethin’ to help them. Let me help your guy, and in return, you’ll release one of mine.”
Another pause. “Which one?”
“Gabe.” Jesse didn’t even think about his answer. While his cousin would probably have his head for not getting her fiancé and the father of her children out, he knew Quinn was physically okay. Same with Harvard. Gabe, though, was still on the mend and hadn’t been in great shape when he went to bed last night. The video glimpses had been too shaky to make a diagnosis, but Gabe looked a bit gray. He never should have gone on their training mission and he certainly didn’t need to be dealing with this. He needed out of there, and Jesse knew both Quinn and Harvard would agree.
“I choose the hostage,” Briggs said after another pause. “Not one of your guys.”
Jesse gritted his teeth. Told himself to relax. Any hostage release was a good thing. “All right. Fair enough.”
“You come in empty-handed. I don’t even want to see your phone.”
“I’ll need a first aid kit.”
“We’ll find you one. You have three minutes to show. Take longer, and the deal’s off.”
Briggs hung up. Jesse gave himself a second to calm his racing heart, then tapped out a fast text to Lanie. The team had to know he’d be inside. He didn’t wait for a reply, but tossed the phone aside and started running. Three minutes was barely enough time to get to the beach in front of the main building, not to mention into the lobby, and he couldn’t risk showing up even a second too late.
He ran flat out, ignoring the pain in his bad ankle, until he reached the beach in front of the hotel. Only then did he hobble to a stop and check his watch. Thirty seconds left. Heaving in a breath, he ran again, his limp more pronounced with each step. He reached the front entrance just as Briggs held up a phone. On the screen, a timer counted down the last few seconds.
Jesse curbed the impulse to rush inside and stopped on the other side of the glass from Briggs. “I’m here,” he called loud enough to be heard through the glass. “Release a hostage.”
Briggs’s lips compressed, but then he looked at his guy propped against the wall, gasping for breath, and relented. He called one of his other men forward with a hand motion. A moment later, the door opened, and they shoved a woman out. The front desk clerk. She was wide-eyed and babbling in terrified French.
Jesse went to her and grasped her shoulders briefly, telling her, “You’re okay now. Run to town. Get help.”
He knew she spoke basic English, but he didn’t know how much had gotten through her fear and he didn’t have time to repeat himself.
Without another thought for his safety, he walked inside and was greeted by the business end of several weapons.
“Search him,” Briggs ordered.
He cooperatively raised his hands and locked his fingers behind his head as two guys slid cautiously toward him. He scanned the room and took stock of the hostages as one man patted him down. The other kept a weapon trained on him, and he made sure not to so much as sneeze. Both of these guys appeared to be nervous, and he didn’t want to set off anyone’s itchy trigger finger.
From across the room, his gaze locked with Gabe’s. The boss didn’t look happy with him, but fuck that. He counted at least five serious injuries among the hostages. Gabe looked like he’d keel over at any minute, and he, Quinn, and Harvard were all bleeding from various wounds. Then there was the Tango who most likely needed a hospital.
Gabe lifted his brows in silent question. Knowing he was asking about the rest of the team, Jesse flicked his gaze to the ceiling. He hoped that was enough to convey they had a plan, but he couldn’t take the time to make sure Gabe understood. The moment the Tangos finished patting him down, someone shoved a heavy-duty first aid kit at him.
“We removed everything sharp,” the guy said in the rough voice of a heavy smoker. “So don’t get any bright ideas.” He then pushed Jesse toward the downed hostage taker.
“What’s his name?” he asked as he knelt beside the man and opened the kit. Thankfully, it was more like his field trauma kit than a typical first aid. Seeing as this was Tuc Quentin’s hotel, he shouldn’t be surprised. Hollywood took the Boy Scouts’ “always prepared” motto to extremes.
“You don’t need to know,” the heavy smoker said.
Did these guys really still think they were going to get away scot-free? With Briggs found out and Tucker working on the problem back in the States, it was only a matter of time until the rest of their names came out. Their op was beyond FUBAR’d. Obviously they just didn’t realize it yet.
Jesse spared a quick thought for Lanie and the guys—it was up to them now—and then got to work.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Trinity Sands Resort
Main Building
Pool Area
The old servant’s entrance was difficult to find. In fact, if not for the hotel’s blueprints, they never would have spotted it on the back side of the building behind the slabs of rock that made up the pool’s massive waterslide. No possible way the bad guys could’ve known about this entrance, and a quick check from Ian and Tank proved the door wasn’t rigged with explosives. It took some doing to pry the door open—the hinges had rusted from the contact spray of the waterslide. Marcus and Danny put their combined strength into pulling on the door and it finally creaked open enough that Lanie and Seth, the only two with guns, were able to duck inside. He went left, and she went right.
“Clear,” Seth whispered.
“Clear,” Lanie echoed.
Holy hell. They’d gotten in without being spotted. They might actually have a shot at pulling this off.
Marcus stepped in behind them and looked around. The walls on all three sides of the large room were lined with industrial washers and dryers. “Laundry room?”
Lanie consulted the blueprints on her phone and nodded. “Second floor. If we go out that way”—she indicated the large metal doors directly in front of her—“we’ll find storage, the kitchen, and eventually wind up in the restaurant. That way”—she pointed over her shoulder at a smaller door on the wall behind her—“to the main hallway. It’s more direct, but also more open to discovery. Either direction, we’ll find stairs. How much risk do we want to take?”
When nobody spoke, she glanced up. In the light from her phone’s screen, she saw the men were all looking at her expectantly. It made her uncomfortable. “What?”
“You got us this far,” Marcus said. “And I, for one, trust you enough to get us the rest of the way.”
The rest of the group nodded and murmured agreements.
Oh. Wow. That might be the nicest thing any of them had ever said to her. Her throat closed up, but she swallowed down the emotion. She couldn’t go girly on them now. Not when they’d put so much trust in her. She studied the blueprints again, and thought back to what she’d seen in the lobby.
“They don’t have enough men,” she said softly.
“Neither do we,” Ian said.
“But they don’t have any reinforcements coming and they can’t spare men to guard both stairwells. So we’ll go to both. We’ll split up.”
“That never ends well in horror movies,” Marcus pointed out.
She looked at him. “You said you trust me. I know this is our best option.”
Marcus glanced around at the others, then lifted a shoulder. “You’re the boss. Point me in the direction you need me to go, and I’ll go.”
She wondered what she had done to invoke such loyalty. Was it something new that had only just developed tonight? Or had it always been there and she’d been too wrapped up in her own worries to see it? She didn’t know, but it hardly mattered now. Fact was, she’d managed to win these guys over and, suddenly, she felt more like a member of the team than ever before.
“Okay,” she said because she couldn’t think of another reply. “Okay. You, Seth, and Danny go through the restaurant.” As she spoke, she sent the blueprints to each
of their phones. “Ian, Tank, and I will take the more direct route since we’ll be more likely to run into explosives.”
“What if we come across one?” Danny asked.
Ian handed him a pair of wire cutters.
Danny winced. “Cut the red wire?”
Ian gave a smile that was just a little bit evil. “It’s never the red wire.”
“Great.” Danny’s voice came out a bit higher than usual. He slid the wire cutters into a pocket and cleared his throat. “Let’s hope I don’t need those.”
“Be careful,” Lanie told them as they turned away as a unit.
“Little hand says it’s time to rock and roll.” Marcus grinned back at her and gave the “hang loose” hand signal before slipping through the big double doors, following Seth and Danny.
She glanced over at Ian. “Did he just quote Point Break?”
He rolled his eyes. “Guy’s a walking movie encyclopedia. Haven’t you notice the recruits trying to stump him with movies quotes all week?”
No, she hadn’t. And why did that thought make her mildly uncomfortable? Because, she realized, she had deliberately been secluding herself from the rest of the team. She’d had her mind made up that they didn’t want her, that she didn’t fit in with them, so she hadn’t really tried to be a teammate.
“I’m sorry.”
Ian, already across the room and pulling open the door that would take them to the main hallway, paused. At his side, Tank also froze, instinctively knowing he wasn’t supposed to go through the door until his master did.
Lanie shook her head. “I’ve been a complete bitch, haven’t I?”
“Yeah,” Ian said in his typical blunt way. “But we, uh, haven’t exactly gone easy on you, either.”
“God. I was so sure y’all didn’t want me on the team, I didn’t even give you a chance.”
“Well, you’re on the team now, huh? All’s good.” Ian looked as if he’d rather have a root canal with a spoon than continue this conversation. He jerked his head toward the hall. “Want Tank and me to take the lead or—”
Code of Honor (HORNET) Page 16
