Neither man spoke again as the elevator descended. The doors opened, and they stepped out onto the entry level of the hospital. Together they walked outside into the warm May night.
Nate hesitated momentarily when he saw Carranza sitting inside the back seat of the limo, the door wide open. When the old man caught a glimpse of Nate, he emerged from the black Cadillac.
Nate walked over to him, Emilio following. "I don't know what your stake in this is, Carranza, but I promise you that if Ryker harms Cyn Porter, your life won't be worth a damn."
Ramon Carranza's dark eyes clashed with Nate's unfriendly glare. "One of my former business associates is indebted to Ryker." He placed his dark, weathered hand on Nate's arm.
Instantly Nate retreated, jerking away, repulsed by the other man's touch. "What you're telling me isn't news. It's no secret that Ryker is part of the Marquez syndicate."
"You do not want to go up against these people alone."
Although the air was warm, almost balmy, Nate felt a shivering chill hit him. He hated Ramon Carranza and everything he stood for. The very thought that this man was deriving some sort of sick pleasure out of helping Ryker, by tormenting him, by threatening Cyn, made Nate want to rip out the man's heart. "Stay out of my way if you know what's good for you."
Gripping Nate's arm tightly, Carranza gave him a hard, penetrating stare. The two men looked at each other, eye-to-eye, man-to-man. "He plans to kill her regardless of what you do. He simply wants you there to witness her death."
The truth of Carranza's words ripped through Nate like one of his sharp, deadly daggers. "You've delivered Ry-ker's message, now you can take one back to him. Tell him that I'm on my way, and before I'm through with him, he'll be begging to die."
Releasing Nate's arm, Carranza slipped into the dark, private confines of his limo. Nate kicked the door closed with his foot. Every fiber of his being pulsated with a rage born of uncontrollable anger and a fear the likes of which he'd never known. If anything happened to Cyn... * * *
Cyn could feel the rounded muzzle of Ryker's gun as he jabbed it into her back. Stumbling in the darkness, she steadied herself as they walked along the arched portico. Why, she wondered, had this crazy man taken her back to Sweet Haven, back to Nate's house? Where was Nate? Was he still at the hospital visiting Nick Romero? She had no idea what time it was, though she suspected it was near midnight.
When she slowed her steps, Ryker poked her in the back again. "Keep walking. We're almost there."
Cyn clutched her purse against her stomach and continued moving, praying for the opportunity to use Mimi's automatic that still lay nestled inside her leather bag. Violence had been thrust upon her, and her only chance for survival might well lie within herself. Did she have the strength and courage to fight back? Undoubtedly, Ryker hadn't even considered the possibility that she might be armed.
If she could manage to get hold of Mimi's gun, would she have the guts to use it? Was she capable of killing a man? Two men? she wondered, remembering that Bedford was still with them. Could she, to save herself, and perhaps Nate, go against her lifelong beliefs?
"Where are you taking me?" Cyn asked, but she already knew. There was anger and pain and fear inside the walls of the old mission as surely as there was passion and love and fulfillment.
"Just shut up and keep walking." Ryker's voice held a nervous edge.
With Bedford standing outside in the dark shadows, Ryker pushed open the storage room door with his shoulder and shoved Cyn inside. She turned on them, irrational fear controlling her actions. Like a madwoman, she flung herself at him. With one deadly backhanded slap, he knocked her to the floor.
Scrambling to find her purse where it had landed beside her, Cyn snapped the catch and rummaged around inside, unable to see in the darkness. Her fingers encountered the cold, deadly metal. Clutching the automatic in her hand, Cyn pointed it at Ryker. In that one heart-stopping moment, she knew that, if necessary, she would kill in order to survive.
With trained instincts, Ryker intercepted her attack. He raised his leg, expertly kicking the gun out of her hand. Cyn's fingers stung from the sharp blow as she listened to the sound of metal when the gun rattled across the stone floor.
Bedford's laughter rang out loud and clear. In the semi-darkness, she could barely make out his stocky form as he entered the room, bent down and picked up her gun.
"She's a gutsy broad," the DEA agent said. "She almost got you."
Ryker growled, like a wounded animal. Cyn could see him, his one malevolent blue eye sparkling in the moonlight that poured in from the open doorway. Flinging his hand backward, he brought it down across the bottom of her face. Cyn jerked from the force of his blow. Blood filled her mouth. She spit it out, then ran her tongue over her split lip.
"Be a good girl, and I'll let you live to see your lover." Ryker motioned to Bedford and the two men turned and left the room.
Once the door slammed shut, Cyn scrambled to her feet and made her way across the room. Standing between the door and the partially boarded window, she listened to the muffled sound of male voices. She could make out another voice beside Ryker's and Bedford's. Who had joined them? she wondered. How many opponents would Nate have to face when he arrived? And she knew, without a doubt, that Ryker had contacted Nate, and that Nate would come for her.
When Cyn heard the door opening, she jumped, quickly moving toward the window. Ian Ryker came in carrying a gas lantern, which he set on top of some stacked boxes. Bedford followed, but no one else. Slowly, Cyn edged her way toward the corner of the south wall. She wanted to huddle into a ball and fall to her knees. But she didn't. She braced her back against the cool coquina wall and glared at Ryker, her eyes beginning to adjust to the new light.
He watched her with the intent curiosity of a cat studying a trapped mouse. She could almost hear him smacking his lips. As cold, deadly fear raced through her, she fought to maintain some semblance of composure. She would not let this animal get the best of her.
Hearing a noise, she glanced quickly over at Bedford, who busied himself pilfering through an assortment of old furniture. Suddenly she saw that a long, thick rope lay draped over his shoulder.
"Who were you talking to outside?" she asked, her voice steady despite her ravaged nerves.
"Curious little girl, aren't you?" Ryker smiled. His mouth was broad, his lips thick and his big teeth had a wide space between the front two. "I have powerful friends who are...assisting me. As soon as the Conquistador arrives, we will be taking a little helicopter ride to a safe place where I can kill you both, very slowly."
She knew that his powerful friends must be the Marquez family, men to whom killing was as commonplace as breathing. And perhaps Ramon Carranza was another friend. If rumors were true, the charming old Cuban could be as deadly as a poisonous snake. "Nate has powerful friends, too. He has the United States government behind him."
She hated the sickening smile on Ryker's face, as if he could taste her fear and was gaining strength from it. "Nathan Hodges will come alone. He knows that I will kill you if he does not. My friends are keeping watch, even now, for any sign of betrayal."
"Nate isn't stupid. He knows you'll kill me regardless of what he does." Why are you trying to reason with a madman? she asked herself. There was no answer.
"Ah, yes, but he will play the game by my rules because he thinks he can outsmart me and keep you alive."
Ryker moved toward her. Her body hugged the wall. Cyn stared at him, trying not to react to his nauseatingly sweet smile. Reaching out, he ran his index finger over her chin, down her throat and into her blouse, stopping between her breasts. When he popped open the top button of her blouse, Cyn glared at him, reaching deep inside herself for courage. Acting on the revolt she felt, Cyn spat in his face.
Wiping away the spit with a large white handkerchief he had slipped out of his pocket, Ryker laughed, then reached out and grabbed Cyn by the shoulders. He dragged her across
the room and flung her into a rickety cane-bottomed chair that Bedford had set upright.
"Tie our little hellcat down," Ryker said. "Tie her hands behind her back and secure her feet to the chair legs."
Bedford obeyed, manhandling Cyn when she tried to resist. Within minutes, Cyn was bound. Fighting the overwhelming fear of helplessness, she opened her mouth on a terrified scream.
Ryker ripped his handkerchief in two pieces and tossed them to Bedford. "Here. Shut her up."
Bending down, Bedford stuck half the moist handkerchief inside Cyn's mouth. He laughed when she gagged on the cloth. After spreading the remaining material across her lips and knotting it behind her head, Bedford looked down at her, his eyes filled with such lust that Cyn shuddered. He covered her breasts with his fat hands, squeezing painfully with his thick, pudgy fingers. Cyn squirmed, emitting hoarse groans beneath her tight gag.
"It's time for you to leave," Ryker said, coming over to where Bedford still clutched at Cyn's breasts. "If you're horny, go buy yourself a woman. As a matter of fact, I've given you enough money to buy yourself a harem."
Bedford released Cyn and stood up, facing Ryker. "Want her all to yourself, huh?"
Ryker nodded toward the open doorway, then he and Bedford went outside, closing the door behind them. Alone and uncertain, Cyn prayed. She asked for the strength to endure whatever might happen and requested, with her whole heart, that she be allowed to help Nate survive his battle with Ryker.
Please, dear Lord, watch over Nate, and, if he has a guardian angel, please send him to us now.
Suddenly Ryker burst through the door, an Uzi strapped across his chest. Cyn watched, spellbound, as he neared her. Unable to do anything except groan at his touch, Cyn had to endure the humiliation as he ripped open her blouse, exposing her lace-covered breasts.
Terrified, she closed her eyes against his nearness, against the sight of his smile. But she could not escape the shrill, menacing sound of his laughter.
"You and I, my lovely, will wait for the Conquistador." He pulled a knife from a shoulder sheath and ran the sharp tip of the blade across Cyn's breasts, from nipple to nipple. "I regret, for your sake, that I cannot kill you quickly, but I will not deprive myself of the pleasure I will derive from watching Nathan Hodges's face. Your lover will suffer the agonies of hell as he watches what I'm going to do to you." * * *
Crouched atop the roof, Nate secured the rope to a wide, sturdy beam. Overhead, the night sky closed in around him as he dropped the other end of the rope into the gaping hole in the back storage room ceiling. He checked the sheath on his belt and the hidden one in his boot, then hoisted the M16 to his shoulder. Grasping the rope, he slid downward with silent ease.
His feet landed soundlessly onto the stone floor. Moonlight poured through the roof opening, illuminating the cluttered room. With sleek, superior, trained movements, Nate made his way to the closed wooden door that connected the two storage areas. Like a jungle cat on a hunt for nourishment, he sought out the sound of Ryker's voice.
Nate grabbed the tarnished metal handle, gave the door a tiny push and waited for any hint of sound. Silence. He nudged the door again, a bit harder. With a minute squeak, it opened wider. Leaning back against the wall, Nate peered around the corner. A bright gas lantern lit the adjacent storage room. Ian Ryker stood, cowering over Cyn where she sat, tied to a wooden chair.
Nate knew he couldn't allow himself to think about how she looked, about what Ryker might have done to her. He had to keep a cool head if he were to have any chance of saving her.
Nate slipped his Fairbairn-Sykes dagger from its sheath, and pushed the door open, listening to the ominous creaking. Ryker jerked his head around, his one blue eye glaring at the doorway where Nate stood. Swinging his Uzi around, Ryker clutched the sinister weapon. Nate lifted his hand back, released the commando dagger, then jumped behind the safety of the thick coquina wall just as Ryker opened fire. Bullets riddled the wall.
Suddenly, with swift and deadly accuracy, Nate's dagger delved into Ryker's gut. Clutching his stomach with the stub of his left hand, he continued to spray the back wall with repeated shots. Finally, he slumped over, releasing the Uzi, and spreading his fingers into the blood dripping from his wound.
"Did you see her?" Ryker screamed as he fell to his knees in front of Cyn and grabbed her by the back of her head, twisting her hair around his hand. "You should come out and take a good look. She has blood on her face. Her pretty little mouth is all swollen and her soft knees are badly scraped."
Nate listened, his heart racing with outrage and torment. Wait. Wait, his instincts told him as he listened to Ryker's labored breathing.
Cyn wished that she could call out to Nate, to tell him that she was all right and not to let Ryker's taunts get to him. She glanced at the open doorway leading into the back storage room. How had Nate gotten in? she wondered, then remembered the roof. When she heard Ryker's harsh groans, she looked down at him just in time to see him jerk the long dagger from his stomach. Blood oozed out, turning his white shirt crimson. He held the knife up toward the heavens in a gesture Cyn knew he considered triumphant.
"I have your dagger, Conquistador." Ryker's voice held a hint of pain disguised beneath his victorious shout. "Come on out and see how I intend to use it on your beautiful lover."
Nate, his M16 on his shoulder, came through the doorway, putting himself in full view of the man sitting on the floor. Ryker held the dagger up to Cyn's chest, slicing through the sheer material of her bra. Red-hot fury seared Nate, branding every nerve within his body. Wild with the need to destroy the inhuman creature who was threatening his woman, Nate willed himself to stay in control.
Nate dragged his gaze away from Cyn's battered face, away from the look of sheer panic in her brown eyes. He studied Ryker, taking in every inch of the wounded man, noticing how profusely he was bleeding. At the rate he was losing blood, it was only a matter of time before he passed out. But Ian Ryker had the stamina of a battle-hardened soldier, and Nate knew he would fight to the bitter end. Given his strength of purpose, Ryker could well remain conscious long enough to kill Cyn.
"I'm going to take you and your woman with me," Ryker said, running the dagger's bloody blade up Cyn's throat, staining her satiny skin with the scarlet liquid. "I've got a chopper coming for us in a few minutes. They know you're here. They won't let me down."
"Who's helping you?" Nate asked, hoping to keep Ryker talking, postponing any desperate action on his part.
"I'm going to let you watch while I enjoy myself with her. When I think you've suffered enough, I'm going to kill you slowly, Conquistador, and let her watch you die." Ryker sucked in a deep breath, gasping for air, grunting with pain. "Oh, she won't be so beautiful when I've finished with her, but some of Marquez's boys will probably enjoy her for a while."
Nate stood perfectly still, never taking his eyes off Ryker. "You can't get away. Do you think a chopper can land on the beach without drawing attention?"
Ryker grinned. "You're too smart to have allowed any of Higdon's men to accompany you. You knew her life depended on your coming alone."
"Let her go, Ryker. This fight is between you and me."
"You didn't let Lian go. You and your bastard SEALs killed her."
"She got caught in the crossfire," Nate said, remembering that horrible day so long ago. "The bullet that struck her could just as easily have been fired by her own people."
"You killed my woman." Ryker rubbed the tip of the dagger up and down, from Cyn's throat to her heart and back again. "I'm going to kill yours...but not quickly. Slowly, after many, many days. The last thing you'll see is your own dagger slicing away at her soft flesh."
Nate glanced at Cyn to gauge her reaction. He had never wanted anything more than to reassure her, comfort her, promise her that Ian Ryker would never live to carry through any of his diabolical threats. "I have no intention of dying. Not to give you any kind of satisfaction and certainly not
to save her life." Nate nodded toward Cyn, and prayed that she understood what he was trying to do and why.
Ryker looked at Nate skeptically. "It won't work, my old enemy. You can't convince me that she means nothing to you."
"Oh, she means something to me." Nate took a quick look at her, his eyes pleading with her to forgive him. "She's the best lay I ever had, but that's all. When has a woman ever meant more to me than a night's pleasure?"
Ryker let the dagger slip down the front of Cyn's body, the blade skimming over her bare stomach. "I don't believe you, but even if it's true, your sense of honor will demand that you try to save her." He scooted closer to Cyn's chair, the nub on the end of his handless arm stroking his bleeding wound. Taking the dagger away from her soft, exposed flesh, he sliced through the ropes that bound her feet to the chair. "My friends will be coming soon." He pulled her hands up and over the back of the chair, then jerked her up, draping his arm around her and pressing the dagger against her side.
"I'm taking her outside," Ryker said. "The chopper should be landing on the beach soon. You can stay here, safe for the time being, or you can come with us, with me and your beautiful woman."
Ryker hunched over in pain. His movements slow and unsteady, he ushered Cyn outside and toward the road. Nate followed. Could he take a chance on his swiftness and accuracy? he wondered. If his life alone depended upon the outcome, he'd take the risk, but Cyn's life hung in the balance. Ryker's instincts could warn him if Nate tried to use the M16. But what about the boot knife? Nate asked himself. Could he remove it from his hiding place and strike Ryker in the back before the other man killed Cyn?
Once on the beach, Ryker fell to his knees, taking Cyn with him. Nate stopped a few yards away near the old cypress tree.
"You'll never make it," Nate shouted. "You're going to pass out."
"It won't matter." Ryker flung his handless arm around his wound. "My friends will take care of me, and they'll keep both of you safe and secure until I'm ready to dispose of you."
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