Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  She’d had enough of this reunion. Where had Carlos stashed the money? If he told her now, Riley would have a chance to get there before them. He might even have a chance to break off the lock and get the money before they even arrived.

  She ground her teeth together. She didn’t want to ask Carlos about the money again. She had to let him play this out his way.

  “Of course now that you’re here, I can use the padlock key to get into the storage locker.” His sly smile spread across his face. “Do you want to know where I hid the key?”

  A seagull shrieked overhead and an outboard motor hummed in the harbor while Amy held her breath. As Riley mentioned before, finding the key didn’t mean a thing without the location of the self-storage facility. What if Carlos didn’t tell her the location and just took her there? That would make the situation more difficult for Riley.

  But Riley had a contingency plan. He had a plan for everything.

  She smiled sweetly. “Where did you hide the key?”

  He drew her close again, and she almost gagged on his cologne. How had she ever found that scent sexy? She preferred Riley’s clean masculine smell.

  Carlos ran a finger along the chain of her necklace and hooked it around his fingertip, dangling the gold heart-shaped locket at the end. “I put it in something that I knew you’d keep with you always.”

  Gasping, Amy closed her fingers around the keepsake from her mother. Carlos tapped her hand and she released her hold on the necklace. She glanced down as he flicked the catch with his thumbnail. A small key nestled inside the locket.

  Amy choked back her fury. He’d hidden the means to his vile money in her most sacred possession? He could call her his love all he wanted. He knew nothing of love. He knew nothing of her.

  She coughed and dumped the key into her hand. “Very clever. I would’ve never looked for it in my locket.”

  Riley must be smacking his forehead about now.

  Carlos shrugged. “I didn’t want the key on me, and I didn’t want anyone to discover it on you.”

  “So where is this self-storage facility?” Amy flicked back her hair and slipped the key into her pocket, not meeting Carlos’s steady gaze.

  “Now that I have the key and you, we’ll go together, and then our options are wide open. We can go to any beach in the world.”

  “Is it nearby? Do you want to take my car?” If Carlos didn’t plan to tell her the location of the self-storage place, at least Riley could track them on the GPS.

  “It’s close, but we don’t need to take your car.”

  Amy waved an arm toward the parking lot while her knees trembled. “But my suitcase is in the trunk. It would be easy to take my car and leave it at the airport.”

  “You don’t need your suitcase. Did you bring your passport like I asked?”

  She’d brought it for show, but she had no intention of getting on a plane with Carlos and flying off to a foreign country, beach or no beach. “Yes, I have it, but I’m not going anywhere without my clothes.”

  His jaw tightened. “Don’t be difficult now, Amy. We can get your bag from the car if you like.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and hoped Riley wasn’t watching. “I can’t wait to start our journey together. When I thought you were dead...”

  Burying her head against his shoulder, she forced a sob from her throat.

  “Shh.” He smoothed her hair down her back. “It’s almost over. We’re almost there.”

  She sniffled. “I hope the facility is nearby. I can’t take any more drama. Is it? Is it close?”

  “It’s just a few miles from here on Yale Street. I rented a unit in the very back row. It’s a small place, no security guards, no security cameras.”

  Did you get that, Riley? She blew out a tiny, measured breath against Carlos’s shirt.

  “We’ll be there soon, mi amor.”

  The roaring engine of a powerboat drowned out the rest of his words. Carlos tightened his grip on her and she instinctively pulled away. As she did so, she felt the small metal disc slip from her waistband. She glanced down in time to see it bounce into the water.

  Carlos shouted, and it took her several seconds to realize he was yelling at the boat charging in their direction and not the listening device sinking to the bottom of the harbor.

  Her eyes focused on the figures in the boat, and she screamed and staggered back. The powerboat drew up next to the slip with two men on deck pointing guns at them.

  One of the men shouted, “Get down on the ground.”

  Amy shivered as she recognized her attacker from the federal pen. Her knees locked and she froze.

  Carlos reached under his jacket, and a zipping sound pierced the air. Carlos crumpled to his knees and fell over sideways as Amy clapped a hand over her mouth.

  The men hopped off the boat, brandishing their weapons. The shooter, the man from the prison, hovered over Carlos while the other trained his weapon on Amy. “I hope you didn’t kill him, Farzad. We still need information from him.”

  The man she’d recognized from before, Farzad, nudged Carlos’s body with his foot. Carlos’s blood seeped onto the gangplank, mixing with the saltwater. “He was reaching for a gun.”

  Farzad groped inside Carlos’s jacket and pulled out the weapon tucked inside. Amy’s gut rolled. What would Carlos have done to her if she hadn’t willingly gotten on a plane with him?

  The man aiming his gun at Amy cursed. “At least make sure he’s dead this time, because it doesn’t look like we’re going to get anything out of him.”

  Farzad felt for a pulse and then shoved Carlos’s body into the water with a heavy kick to his midsection. “I’ll make sure this time.”

  Amy’s tongue cleaved to the roof of her dry mouth as she watched Carlos slip into the gently lapping water, his white face a ghastly mask before it disappeared.

  Her gaze skimmed along the empty harbor, a few sailboats bobbed on the water in the distance, oblivious to the violence in their midst. Riley would be on his way to the storage facility, unaware that Carlos would never make it there alive.

  Would she?

  The man holding her at gunpoint strode toward her and jabbed his gun in her side. “Where’s that man from the prison? Where’s your protector?”

  Good question. She lifted her shoulders. “I left him when Carlos called. I always knew Carlos wasn’t dead. I just used that man for protection against you.”

  Farzad’s eyes narrowed. “Who was he?”

  Amy sneered and spat out, “CIA.”

  A stream of Arabic flowed from the man holding her at gunpoint. He punctuated every exclamation by poking her in the back with a long silencer attached to his weapon.

  Farzad smiled. “But that’s not a problem because she knows where the money is, don’t you, Amy?”

  Yeah, she knew where Carlos had stashed the money, and that information had to keep her alive until she reached Riley.

  She pressed her hand against the pocket where she’d slipped the key and nodded slowly, holding Farzad’s dark gaze. “I know where the money is, but you need me to get it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Riley parked his car around the corner from the U-Store storage facility and slipped in the front gate. Carlos had chosen a completely low-tech facility—no gate requiring a code to get in, no security guard on duty, no cameras. Perfect.

  Back row. Carlos hadn’t given Amy the number of the unit, but he’d told her he’d rented one in the back row.

  Riley had broken out in a cold sweat when he’d lost contact with Amy, but at least Carlos had given her the location of the money before the mic went dead. No way Carlos could’ve discovered the small listening device tucked in Amy’s clothing. It must’ve fallen out.

  He ducked behind a large unit and scanned the ten battered units lined up along the back row. He’d wait until Carlos and Amy arrived, and then he’d plan his attack. He’d take down Carlos, rescue Amy and secure the money, interrupting the terrorists’ schem
e and whatever plans they had for Jack.

  His muscles taut, he crouched against the storage unit, the cold from the metal seeping into his shoulders. He’d promised Amy some kind of life together after this mission. Could he deliver? April had begged him to give up his life of danger. He knew Amy never would. They suited each other. He’d felt it from the moment she’d swum up next to him to rescue two divers from the rough sea.

  She’d been with him every step of the way on this perilous journey. She’d led him to the client’s money, and they’d come to the end of the line together. If she could do all that for him, he could deliver on his promise of a happily-ever-after.

  He glanced at his watch with a furrowed brow and flare of fear in his belly. Before the mic went out, it sounded as if Carlos had been on the verge of leaving. Why the delay? They must have retrieved Amy’s suitcase from her car.

  He massaged the back of his neck, his fingers digging into his flesh at the sound of a car engine. He pushed up to his feet and flattened his body against the corrugated metal of the unit.

  The car stopped out of his line of vision, and he heard the doors open and then slam shut. More than two car doors? He yanked his gun out of its holster and gripped it with two hands.

  He caught his breath and then ground his teeth together. Two men bracketed Amy, one holding a gun to her back—and neither one of them was Carlos.

  He recognized the one with the gun as the so-called reporter at the federal prison. He studied the other man and cursed under his breath. Ian’s instincts had been correct. Farouk, the man they’d played cat and mouse with in the Middle East, was here in the flesh.

  Someone must have ratted out Carlos. Maybe the Velasquez gang did it to save their own hides. Maybe Ethan had given him up before they slit his throat.

  The trio started at the far end of the row, and Riley strained to hear them. Amy drew her hand out of her pocket and held up an object to the two men—the key Carlos had hidden in her locket.

  Riley’s throat closed and his nostrils flared. They’d kill Amy as soon as they got the money. He took aim at the head of Farouk, and then lowered his weapon once he realized Amy still had a gun shoved into her back. As much as he wanted to take down Farouk, if he shot now they’d kill her sooner rather than later.

  He held his breath as Amy inserted the key into the lock of the first unit. The little group turned and shuffled toward the next unit, and Riley exhaled. Carlos had never told her which unit housed the money. They’d have to try every unit, and they wouldn’t kill Amy until they had the money in their hands—just in case she was playing them.

  He whispered to himself, “Keep coming this way. Keep coming this way.”

  They tried the second lock with no luck and then skipped the next unit as it had a combination lock on it. A bead of sweat rolled down Riley’s face as he watched them approach the fourth unit.

  They had come within earshot, but the three of them didn’t have much to say to each other. In the quiet atmosphere, Riley’s rasping breath sounded like a jet engine to his ears. They moved on to the next unit and Amy repeated the procedure. Only this time, she yelped and jumped back.

  The padlock on the storage unit hung open, and Farouk and his cohort exchanged a quick glance. Riley’s grip on his gun tightened as Farouk shoved Amy away from the entrance. He lifted the lock and swung open the door.

  Raising his gun, Riley aimed at the man holding Amy. If he could just get her to step away from the target or drop to the ground Riley had the shot. Riley had to act quickly while Farouk was focused on the money and before he pulled out his weapon.

  Farouk ducked his head into the storage unit, and adrenaline pumped through Riley’s veins. He shouted, “Amy, get down.”

  Amy dropped to the ground as if she’d been expecting the command, and Riley squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit the man in the shoulder and he spun around with the force, dropping his weapon.

  Riley charged forward while Amy kicked the gun out of the way and flung out her arms to grab the edge of the door and swing it shut. As she struggled to her knees, Farouk grabbed her around the neck, pulling her up and dragging her against his chest.

  Riley loomed over the bleeding man losing consciousness on the ground and swung his weapon toward Amy’s captor. The blood in his veins turned to ice when he saw the knife at her throat.

  “Looks like we have a stand-off, Hammond.” Farouk grinned. “I wondered if one of the Prospero team was involved. I can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you again, but my money’s here, so if you let me leave peacefully, I’ll let you have Amy.”

  Amy’s eyes widened at the use of Riley’s name.

  “What if I told you reinforcements were on the way, Farouk?”

  The man shrugged, skepticism etched on his face. “Then I’d kill Amy, and nobody would be happy.”

  Riley’s hand clenched and he slid his gaze to Amy’s white face. If Farouk killed Amy, it would be the last act of violence in his sorry life. “What are you going to buy with that money?”

  Farouk stepped in front of the duffel bags on the floor of the unit as if to protect them. “What’s your interest? I thought you just wanted to rescue the girl. You always want to rescue the girl.”

  He did want to rescue Amy and he wanted to rescue Jack. Could he do both? Stepping back, he massaged his temple.

  “Don’t let him get away with the money, Riley.” The knife gleamed at Amy’s neck, and her jaw tightened with resolve. Did she really believe he’d sacrifice her to stop a terrorist’s plans, even if those plans involved Jack?

  Riley released a measured breath. “What do you know about Jack Coburn?”

  Farouk’s eyes flickered but he shrugged a shoulder. “Only that he got the better of me too many times.”

  The blood roared in Riley’s ears. He knew something. “He’s a hostage negotiator now. He went to Afghanistan to secure the release of a captive. We don’t know much more than that.”

  “And I know even less. I thought you were retired. What are you doing back on the job?” When his question met a stony silence from Riley, Farouk continued. “You should understand I know only a part of the plan. My job is to secure this money from the drug deal.”

  Riley had nothing to use as a bargaining chip but the gun in his hand. He’d get nothing from Farouk. With his muscles taut, he stepped around the unconscious man on the ground and gestured with his gun. “Take the money and leave Amy.”

  “No.” Amy’s word sliced through the air. “Don’t let him take the money, Riley.”

  Farouk clicked his tongue. “Brave words from the daughter and the sister of criminals. I’ll leave her to you once you load up the bags in the car, Hammond. Sorry I can’t help you. I’m otherwise engaged.”

  He brought the knife closer to Amy’s throat as he stepped out of the storage unit. She stumbled over the edge, and he cinched his arm around her waist. He backed up to his car and popped the trunk. “Drop your gun and get the money.”

  Riley’s hand steadied and he narrowed his eyes.

  “You make one more move with that weapon, and I’ll slide this knife right across her throat. You can trust me, Hammond.”

  Amy gasped as Riley chucked his gun near the other man’s weapon on the ground. He clambered into the unit. The warm, dry air closed around him as he hoisted the two duffel bags. Emerging into the dim light of dusk, he swallowed hard as he glanced at Farouk, his arm wrapped around Amy’s body, and his knife still poised at her throat.

  “Put the bags in the trunk.”

  Riley heaved the bags into the trunk and slammed the lid. “Now what?”

  “Now Amy accompanies me in the car just for a short distance, and then I’ll release her. She doesn’t have to worry about us ever again. You, however... Well, I’m sure we’ll meet at some point in the future.”

  A muscle ticked wildly in Riley’s jaw. His gaze darted toward the two guns lying uselessly on the ground.

  Amy gave a strangled cry as Farouk shoved her into
the driver’s side of the car, the knife at her back. Riley shuffled closer to his gun as he watched Amy climb over to the passenger seat. Farouk started his engine and the car lurched forward.

  Riley hunched over and ran toward his gun and grabbed both weapons. He looked up in time to see the passenger door fly open and Amy tumble from the car, which never stopped. Riley scrambled for his weapon, rolled onto his stomach and took a shot at the speeding car. He got off another shot as the car careened around a corner, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

  Riley turned his attention to Amy, struggling to her knees and sobbing. He jumped to his feet and ran toward her, his heart thumping with every step.

  He caught her in his arms, pulling her up and crushing her to his chest. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  She dug her nails into his shoulders as she held on. “I’m fine. I just scraped my arm when I jumped from the moving car.”

  He ran his hand along her arm, brushing bits of dirt and gravel from her soft skin, marred with several red scratches. Now she had two injured arms. “Thank God you’re okay. I would have done anything he asked while he had that knife to your throat.”

  “You shouldn’t have let him take off with the money, Riley.” She grabbed his hands and brought them to her lips. “Taking their money would have forced them to start over and given you more time to track down leads on Jack.”

  “I still have one lead on Jack.” Riley turned his head and jerked his chin toward the wounded man on the ground.

  “He’s not dead?” When Farzad had crumpled to the ground, his shoulder spouting blood, Amy assumed Riley had killed him. But one dead man had already come back to life. Why not another?

  Riley tugged her hand, and she reluctantly followed him back to the gaping storage unit and the man sprawled on the ground next to it. Riley crouched beside Farzad and ripped off the bottom of the man’s shirt. He bunched it up and pressed it against the wound. Were his last-ditch medical efforts too little too late?

  He lightly slapped the pale face and propped up his head. “Get some water from my bag, which is around the corner from that unit.”