“Aim and shoot,” he reminded.
Alana nodded, not bothering to argue. He’d only steamroll her again. If he thought she would use it, he’d leave her alone about it. He didn’t need to know she had no intention of shooting anyone.
“Did you give him the pills?” Cristian asked, brushing past her.
“Yes. He’s resting.” She followed him to the ladder. “You’re going now?”
“Stay below.” He disappeared over the side.
Suddenly not wanting him to go, she leaned over the edge. “How long will you be?”
“Not sure. The boat is fully stocked.”
Not what she meant. She worried about him not coming back. Gavin had a small army backing him. Cristian was only one man. The odds were against him. If he didn’t succeed, her family would be slaughtered. She would never survive that.
“Be careful.”
Cristian scowled at her before plunging into the water. She watched him swim away with strong, powerful strokes until he was a nothing but a dot on the horizon. With a sigh, she went downstairs to wait for his return.
* * * *
The hairs on the back of Slade’s neck bristled. He leveled his gun on the bush in front of him and waited. Ross’s men weren’t versed in stealth. Getting the drop on them was a matter of patience.
A minute later a man stumbled out of the brush, covered in blood. Slade recognized him as one of the tribe members in Alana’s camp. From the night he’d helped rescue that boy.
He put his gun away and knelt down to help the man to his knees. Numerous wounds peppered his body, including a gunshot wound in his chest.
The man rolled onto his back in Slade’s arms, eyes lolling in his head. He began to speak, his words slurred. Fluent in Spanish, but not this dialect, Slade tried to follow. What he understood made him sweat bullets.
He tried to keep the man coherent long enough to repeat himself. It couldn’t be true.
Another complication.
But the man’s eyes closed in death, the duty turned over to Slade. Slade cursed and lowered him to the ground. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
More delays.
Ross would have to wait. Alana’s father was in trouble. And knowing how she felt about him, Slade couldn’t let this go and cause her unnecessary pain.
Heading in the opposite direction of Ross’s estate, Slade hoped he wasn’t too late.
* * * *
He was too late.
Slade’s steps faltered as he stared at the massacre around him. Only a short time ago he’d left this village. And now…
Everywhere he looked, people lay in bloody heaps. Men, women, and children. The whole damned village. They hadn’t stood a chance against the weapons used on them. AK’s, Uzi’s.
The huts burned around him; smoke billowed into the canopy overhead and stung his nostrils. The scent of death surrounded him. There was nothing left. Everything had been destroyed.
He just didn’t know why.
But he was too late.
Too goddamn late.
Bile rose in his throat as he stepped over a dead body. What kind of animal murdered an entire village of people? A rabid one that needed to be put down.
His finger twitched on the trigger of his rifle as his steps carried him through the devastation. He’d always been able to separate himself from his work. Never had he wanted a man in sights more than he did Gavin Ross at this moment. The man deserved Slade’s bullet.
Breath trapped in his throat, he stopped short, a noise drawing his attention. He looked over and saw a body roll sideways. A hand reached up.
The man lay bleeding on the ground, reaching for help. Alana’s father. Judging by the hole in his chest, he didn’t have long to live.
Fury washed through Slade. He reached out and pushed the man’s shoulders down gently when he tried to sit up. “No,” he said, wishing he could do more.
He’d seen enough gunshot wounds to know when nothing would save a man. This one had minutes to live.
“My daughter,” the man said, his eyes glazed with pain. “Alana.” He grabbed his shirt with amazing strength for one so frail. “He…took her. You…must…save…her…from him. He’ll…please…promise me.” The two last words were spoken with conviction, his grip tightening. “Take her…home…protect her…always.”
Too dangerous.
Too personal.
“Promise me.”
He would never leave Alana unprotected and he suspected this man knew it. If he made the promise, it would be written in stone.
“Say it.”
“You have my word.”
The man’s eyes softened with relief and his hand slipped from Slade’s shirt. His eyes drifted closed.
“Thank you.” He let out his last breath.
Slade swore beneath his breath and sat back on his haunches, rubbing a hand down his face. He’d just made a promise to a dying man and connected himself to the beautiful doctor for life. His vow to protect her would never cease.
The stench of death filled his nostrils, hardening his resolve. An act like this didn’t deserve mercy. Gavin Ross didn’t deserve a sniper’s bullet. He deserved a slow, torturous death.
He rose to his feet and took one last look around. Then he walked away, the images burned into his memory.
Chapter 11
Alana heard a noise in the distance that sounded like a lawn mower. With a frown, she rose from her patient’s side and walked into the hallway. She cocked her head and listened, trying to make out where the noise came from.
She followed the sound upstairs and stepped onto the deck. It was getting louder. And sounded like…boats.
It wasn’t all that unusual for tourists to explore the outer islands of the Caribbean. She didn’t understand what drew people to explore, but as long as they left the tribe alone, she didn’t care. She’d helped a couple lost travelers over the years, otherwise had no trouble.
Yet, it paid to be cautious. Cristian had tucked the boat behind a cluster of large rocks, but if someone looked hard enough they’d find it. There was always the possibility of pirates looking for expensive boats like this one to raid.
Better to stay out of sight and hope for tourists doing some sightseeing.
She went below to check on her patient again, saw he was still asleep, and went into the small, orderly kitchen and took a water bottle out of the fridge. She sat at the table and sipped it, exhaustion wearing on her. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop the flood of memories. She’d almost committed murder for the sake of her family.
She would never know if she had the capacity to do it or not.
And she hoped she’d never have to.
Restless, she capped her bottle and began to pace. What was taking Cristian so long? It seemed like forever since he’d gone. The waiting was driving her nuts.
The odds were against him. What if he didn’t come back? What if he needed her help?
“Stop,” she muttered. What-if’s didn’t do her any good. Until Cristian returned, she had no choice but face the unknown, no matter how unnerving.
She crept up the stairs, crouched low, and scanned for boats. By the sound of the engines they were getting closer, but she couldn’t see them yet. If it was pirates, she wanted to see them coming.
And be prepared instead of a sitting duck.
* * * *
Slade heard boats. Not cruisers. Speedboats. Moving fast near the island. Near Alana. Dammit. He couldn’t guarantee they were harmless.
FUBAR. This whole mission. Alana was a sitting duck. She didn’t know where he kept his stash of weapons. Even if she did, she wouldn’t know how to use them. She had no way to defend herself.
He couldn’t take a chance the boats were tourists.
He couldn’t take a chance it was Ross.
Slade slung his rifle over his shoulder. Another delay in his mission. He hated delays.
At a dead run, he headed toward the sea and Alana, cutting through the
jungle to get to her faster. When he reached the beach, he crouched low behind a giant leaf and watched two long-hulled powerboats skim the shore. Ross wouldn’t leave anything to chance. He would cover land and sea to find Alana. Smart move.
Quickly he buried his weapons, crept across the beach and slid into the water. With powerful, purposeful strokes he swam as hard as he could toward where he had hidden Alana. With luck she hadn’t been discovered yet. It wouldn’t take them long to find the alcove.
Swimming faster, he headed for the boat.
And prayed he wasn’t too late this time.
* * * *
Alana sat on the deck keeping watch for the boats she heard in the distance. They weren’t moving very fast and hadn’t reached the alcove yet. Only a matter of time before they discovered where she was.
Something bumped the side of the boat. Startled, she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The sea was full of sharks and other predators and she wouldn’t welcome them anymore than pirates. Moving slowly, she rose up to look over the edge. Slade climbed over.
With a gasp of surprise she jumped back. “Cristian. You scared the life out of me. What’s wrong?”
The hard look on his face had her following him to the steering wheel.
“We’re leaving.” He found the key and brought the powerful engine to life.
“Leaving?” she repeated.
“Those boats you hear are Ross’s men looking for us.” He backed out of the cove and panic filled her chest.
“Where will we go?” she asked. “There’s nothing but islands and sea. We can’t hide.”
Cristian jerked the wheel and the boat shot out of the cove. She grabbed onto the dash to keep from being thrown backward.
“Where are we going?” she asked again over the wind whipping her in the face as they sailed across the open sea.
“Bilwi.”
“Bilwi? In Nicaragua? But, that’s sixty miles away. I can’t go there.” Her family was back there. She couldn’t go to Nicaragua. “Did you…finish the job?”
He cast her a sideways glance and her stomach dropped.
“You didn’t, did you? Gavin Ross is still alive?”
A muscle clenched in his jaw.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “He’s alive.” She grabbed Cristian’s arm. “I have to go back. He’ll kill my father.” Desperation made her fingers dig into his flesh.
He didn’t seem to notice, just stared straight ahead with a closed expression.
“Did you hear me? He’ll kill my father,” she shouted over the wind, a knot forming in her stomach. Damn him for always keeping his thoughts concealed. She needed to read him right now. Needed to know he would protect her father from Gavin. No one else could. She had tried and failed. If anything happened to her father, she would never forgive herself.
Cristian finally looked at her, his face set in grave lines. “Your father is dead.”
“What?” Slowly, she shook her head and backed away a step. “You’re lying. Why would you lie about something like that? Have you no heart?”
But she knew he told the truth. Cristian wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this. He knew how it would hurt her.
“No.”
Cristian returned his eyes to the sea, his shoulders set in rigid lines as he steered them away from her family.
“Go back!” she shouted and grabbed the wheel. Cristian held fast, preventing her from turning it. “Take me back to my family. Right now.”
Cristian didn’t waver. She was no match for his strength. He allowed her to struggle for a moment before using his body to push her away.
His gaze met and held hers. “They’re all dead.”
Alana reeled back. The truth shown in the hard lines of his face and reflected in his ice blue eyes.
“No. When?” she managed past the lump in her throat. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. It couldn’t be true.
“At least twelve hours ago.”
She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob and shook her head in denial. It wasn’t true. He was lying to protect her. That had to be it. Her father was alive and well on the island. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, it was there. Cold, hard, brutal truth.
The ramifications of what he’d said hit her like a wrecking ball. “I hate you,” she spat and stumbled blindly below deck.
* * * *
Slade gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Alana’s parting words echoed through his head. She had every right to hate him. That wasn’t how he’d planned to tell her about her father. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to tell her at all. He’d give anything to take it all back.
He’d do anything to never have taken this assignment.
It had seemed simple when Patrick Gallagher--Onyx Group’s founder and leader--called him. It was the reason Patrick allowed him to go without backup. Slade didn’t often require backup, but Gallagher trusted the buddy system, residual of his SEAL days, and no one argued with the boss. Slade, however, got away with more than most, given his stubborn desire to work alone. He worked better alone. He’d spent his entire life on his own and that made it comfortable.
This contract should have been easy. A deserted island, one man with a very small army and minimal security. Getting on the island undetected had been easy. Getting within range of Ross even easier.
Until the beautiful red-haired doctor saved his life.
Invaded was more like it.
Now, he was in one hell of a precarious position. He still had a contract to fulfill and a promise to a dead man to uphold.
The hum of engines drew his attention. Three boats tailed him, gaining fast. He pushed Alana out of his head. He needed focus. Or they would all be dead. Ross wouldn’t give up.
And neither would he.
He gunned the motor and veered west toward Bilwi. Outrunning them was the only chance they had. Without backup he had no one to return fire and keep them from getting too close. He couldn’t steer and shoot accurately at the same time.
Cursing low and hard, he heard Gallagher’s voice in his head, giving his speech about teamwork and the importance of having someone watch your back. As much as he hated to admit it, he could use the team here right now. Rick Sarver, to be exact, the team’s weapons specialist. His knowledge and use of weapons was legendary. It would be useful to have him covering his six right now.
Not that he’d ever admit it to Gallagher.
Nicaragua would be the safest place for them. Once they got closer, it would more populated and have more boats to hide among and distract Ross’s men. They wouldn’t shoot with people around and risk alerting the Nicaraguan authorities, who could link them to Ross.
His decision to rent the boat had been the only good one he’d made. Faster than any other boat on these waters, he’d bet his life on it. That speed would save their asses.
He pushed the boat faster and harder toward safety.
In the marina outside Bilwi, a small coastal city known for its violence, Slade turned off the engines and scanned the area for Ross’s men. He’d quickly lost them, but it wouldn’t be hard to figure out where he hid. The Atlantic coast was only so big.
He would leave the keys on the rental, call the man he’d rented it from, and get the first flight out of the city.
Below, he found Alana sitting beside her patient, staring off into space, her face devoid of emotion. It didn’t look like she’d shed a tear.
“Come on, Doc,” he said. “We’re here.”
She didn’t answer or look at him. He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake. Dazed, she looked up at him.
“Are we there?” she asked automatically.
“Yes. Wait for me on deck, but stay down. I’ll get your patient.”
“What will you do with him?”
“Take him to the nearest hospital.”
With a nod, she turned and obeyed his command. No argument. Not a flicker on her pale face. That concerned him. This wasn’t the woman h
e knew. She should be railing at him, angry, grieving, something. Anything. She should be reacting.
At the door she turned back to say, “He won’t be safe in a hospital. Gavin needs me.”
Slade didn’t know what that meant, but it made his gut churn. Ross would kill both of them for escaping. And if they had something on him, then Ross wouldn’t stop until they were dead.
More complications. The shell shock on Alana’s face told him this was far from over. Not only because Gavin Ross was still alive, but because he had to protect this woman. He’d sworn an oath, and he never broke his word.
But he couldn’t do it on his own. He needed backup, dammit.
“Stay here.” He brushed past her to where his satellite phone was hidden in his pack. He pulled it out and punched in an untraceable number. A clipped voice answered on the second ring.
“Gallagher.”
“It’s Slade.”
“Slade? What happened?”
Slade bit back his frustration at having to make this call and swallowed his pride for the pretty young doctor. “Complications. Can you send a small team to Nicaragua?”
A pause. “Give me your exact location.”
Slade rattled off the details and Gallagher hung up without pumping him too hard for information. The man was astute enough to know if Slade asked for backup, then things were very, very bad. Slade trusted his boss enough to know he’d have a team here by nightfall. Until then, he would stash Alana and her patient.
He went back into the cabin where she waited. “There’s an inn a couple blocks from here. We’ll stay there.”
Alana nodded. No questions about why or how long they’d be there or what they were waiting for. He didn’t like seeing her like this. Eventually, the dam would break. He could only hope to be there to help her pick up the pieces.
What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t the type of man who stuck around to pick up the pieces.
“Your leg is bleeding.” She spoke in that same monotone.
Maybe if he gave her something to do, she would snap out of it. “There’s a First Aid kit in the bathroom under the sink.”
She shuffled away and he let out a frustrated breath. They couldn’t stay here long. Ross’s men weren’t far behind.
Hard Core (Onyx Group) Page 12
