Nautier and Wilder

by Lora Leigh

  When they got to the one with the cell, he turned to Grange.

  “I never saw this room. Only the main supply room. Pete told me the others were electrical.”

  Grange walked in, picked up the blanket, saw the simple cot, and then the clothes.

  “Carla. Sonofabitch, he’s had Carla all this time.” Grange picked up the cot and threw it across the room. “Fuck, all this time and I never knew.”

  “Why?” Jed asked.

  “I was supposed to relieve him that day in Beirut so he could pick up Dina. I was delayed, didn’t get off in time. If I’d relieved him, he would have picked her up and she wouldn’t have been at the embassy when it was bombed.”

  He lifted sorrow-filled eyes to Jed. “I had such guilt over that, but Pete said he never blamed me, that there was nothing I could have done differently, that it wasn’t my fault. He had lost his wife and he was consoling me. Turns out all this time he’d been waiting for this moment to get his revenge.”

  “Why wait until now?”

  Grange shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe he was hoping I’d get married, then he’d take my wife away like his was taken away. Only I didn’t. I had a career, never got around to finding a wife. So maybe he got tired of waiting and he figured he’d take the two most important people in my life—my sister and my niece.”

  “Jesus, Grange, he’s one disturbed bastard.”

  “There’s not even a window in here. And it’s fucking cold. How could he do this to her? Who knows how long she’s been in this room? I’ll kill him for making her suffer like that.”

  Grange started forward, but Jed stopped him. “General, I know you’re in charge of this mission, but you’re not thinking with your head right now. Frankly I don’t give a shit what you do to this guy when you find him, but if you go out there without putting a plan together, you might lose them both. And I don’t intend to lose Elena.”

  Grange stopped, sucked in a breath and nodded. “You’re right. We need a plan.”

  “The first thing we have to do is figure out where he took them.”

  “Helicopter. They need a flight plan, and radar may have picked them up. We’ll hit that first.”

  They ran back to the house and Grange made some calls. They pulled up area flight radar while Grange got them connected.

  “Helicopter took off south. He’s headed out of the country. I’ve got our pilot firing us up and ready to track him, plus military jets on the way to intercept if he’s still in flight.”

  They packed up duffels of firepower and were on the helo in fifteen minutes, in touch with the military trying to track where Pete’s helicopter had gone.

  “We’re in luck. He’s still in the U.S. Small island off the coast of the Florida Keys,” Grange said. “We’re going in hot and heavy. Not sure if he’s there alone or he has help. He’s amassed a lot of money doing mercenary work over the years. He’s made some friends in low places, too. This might get ugly.”

  Jed was heavily armed and just pissed off enough to put a bullet through Pete’s head the minute he saw him, and ask questions later. “Understood.”

  “I wish we had time to bring a bigger team in. I’ve called in a few favors, so we’ll get some backup, but I don’t know when that’ll be. There’s no police jurisdiction where we’re going, so right now it’s just you and me.”

  “I’m ready for whatever he’s got, General.”

  He hoped Pete was unprepared for the hurt Jed was going to rain down on him. Because Pete had his woman and his woman’s mother, and that meant he was going down.

  * * *

  Elena hoped that not only Pete burned in hell, but also the pilot who’d helped Pete drag her and her mother out of that refrigerated room and onto the helicopter. She hoped he was paid really well, though she doubted the money would do him any good when he rotted away in some prison somewhere.

  Pete had cuffed them, chained their ankles together and tossed them onto the helicopter, then flown them somewhere south and landed on yet another godforsaken uninhabited island, where he’d dragged them off the helicopter, again with the help of his minion, and locked them in the bedroom of a house.

  This house wasn’t as ostentatious as the last one. It was smaller, less fancy and far less spacious. Not that she cared since they were still stuck out in the middle of nowhere. And chained.

  Her mother had cried out when they’d been taken out of the room. After so many weeks in the dark, the sunlight had played havoc with her eyes. Elena had told her to keep her eyes shut tight. That, coupled with the chains around her ankles, meant her mom kept tripping and falling as they were dragged to the helicopter. Pete, finally disgusted, threw her over his shoulder and carried her. When they landed on this island, he told her mother if she didn’t get out and walk, he’d shoot her and leave her on the deck of the helipad.

  Elena’s mother somehow managed to squint and walk to the house, but she was crying now because her eyes burned so badly. She needed medical treatment.

  Elena swore she’d find a way to kill the sonofabitch for all the torment he’d caused her mother.

  She wished she could help her mom take a shower. She said the only thing she’d had access to was water, soap and a washcloth. She craved a shower and a long, soaking bath. But with them being shackled up like this, she couldn’t even have that.

  Elena sat on the edge of the bed while her mother slept. At least this bed was more comfortable than the cot her mom had been forced to sleep on for so long. And it was warmer here. Her mother slept soundly, no doubt exhausted and likely malnourished. She’d lost weight, her dirty clothes hanging loose on her much smaller frame.

  Elena raised her cuffed hands and swept them over her mother’s hair.

  She’d resented her mother for so long, had ignored her, had tried so hard not to be like her. Now she’d do anything to save her.

  Elena’s hand brushed something metal. She slid her fingers into her mother’s hair and pulled out one of those thick hairpins and smiled. Her mother was always sticking those things into her unruly curly hair to keep it away from her face.

  Then it hit her. She dipped her fingers into her mom’s hair again, searching, and found another pin.

  She stared at the two pins in her hand, then at the handcuffs, and grinned, remembering the lessons she’d been taught long ago.

  She straightened the hairpin, then bent down and worked at the lock holding the chain at her ankles. She slid it into the hole and began to work it around. After about fifteen minutes she’d worked up a sweat and had gotten nowhere, so she opened the second pin and used two of them, forcing patience when all she wanted was for this damn thing to—

  The lock clicked open. Oh, my God, it worked. She resisted the urge to pump her fist in the air and squeal. She pulled the lock off and removed the chains, then set about on undoing the handcuffs, which were a lot easier to pick than the lock. She had those off in a few minutes, climbed off the bed then set to work on the lock at her mom’s ankles.

  Her mother stirred and sat up, her eyes still shut. “Elena?”

  “Shhh, Mom, stay quiet.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Picking these locks with your hairpins.”

  “What? How can you do that?”

  “I had to amuse myself somehow when you dragged me over to Paco’s when I was a kid. Some of his friends taught me how to pick a lock.”

  She sighed. “The influences I exposed you to as a child . . .”

  The lock released. “Have come in handy. Let’s take a look at those handcuffs now.”

  She had her mother out of the cuffs within ten minutes.

  Hope lit a flame inside her. She helped her mother to the side of the bed so she could get her bearings, then stood to look around the room. T
he windows were barred, so no way out there. She went into the bathroom. Same thing with the windows. She went back into the bedroom and opened the closet door, looking for anything that would help her get them out of there. She rummaged through the racks of clothes hanging there, then bent down and pushed aside the boxes of shoes.

  Her breath stopped when she saw the bright red numbers and the countdown on the black box tucked in the back of the closet.

  That looked an awful lot like a bomb. And the clock was ticking down. Time left was a little over sixty minutes.

  She sucked in a shaky breath and gently shut the closet door, turned to her mother and kept her voice calm.

  “We have to get out of here before Pete comes in and realizes we’ve gotten free. How are you feeling?”

  “A little weak, but I can handle it.”

  “How are your eyes? Can you see anything?”

  Her mother tried to open her eyes. “Light hurts still. I’ll manage. I’m ready to get out of here and go home.”

  “Me, too.” She was going to have to try the door, which she figured would be locked. She took her mother’s hand and led her to the door, tried the knob.

  It turned.

  “Door’s not locked.” Why should he when he had the bomb in the closet?

  Bastard.

  She turned to her mother. “Stay very quiet, and be ready to run like hell. Don’t let go of my hand.”

  Her mother nodded, squeezed her hand. “I love you, Elena. I’m sorry.”

  Elena pulled her into a hug, tears welling in her eyes. “Nothing to be sorry for. And I love you, too, Mom.”

  Her first priority was getting her mother as far away from the bomb as possible. That was their best chance at survival. The second option was to find a phone so she could call for help. She knew Grange and Jed would be tearing the world apart searching for them.

  That gave her comfort. They’d find her and her mom. In the meantime, she’d do whatever it took to get them out of there and away from that lunatic Pete. She had to get her mother out of this house and now.

  She inched the door open and peeked out. The room they were in was at the edge of the hallway. She could see a living area and kitchen. Two men holding guns were in the kitchen having a beer and staring out the open back slider toward the beach. No sign of Pete.

  “Stay here,” she whispered to her mother, and inched out of the room, wanting to take a look around the edge of the wall.

  They were right at the front door. If she could somehow get past those men in the kitchen, or if the men would go outside, she could grab her mom, get out of the front door and make a dash to freedom. She didn’t know how big that bomb was, but if they could clear the house, maybe they’d be okay.

  Maybe.

  She slipped back inside the room and partly closed the door, giving her mother a report of what she’d seen. She kept watch over the guards, hoping and praying they’d walk outside. All she needed was thirty seconds.

  Then she heard the loud roar overhead, and the guards went running.

  She grabbed her mother’s hand. “Let’s go now!”

  FIFTEEN

  Nothing like a couple of low-flying fighter jets as a diversion. Jed was thankful Grange knew people in high places. The flyover should provide enough of a distraction to get Pete and whoever else was working for him scrambling to figure out what the fuck was going on.

  They beached the Zodiac boat on the back side of the island and leaped out, weapons drawn, while a helo and the jets hopefully kept Pete busy on the main side. Jed and Grange ran like hell toward the house, ripping through underbrush, foliage slapping them in the face and arms as they rushed to get to Elena and her mother.

  “You see anything that isn’t Carla and Elena, shoot it,” Grange said, having no problem keeping up with Jed.

  That was already Jed’s plan anyway. He figured every person on this private island was hostile.

  They reached the clearing. Jed didn’t even pause as he ran through the open back door.

  “Elena!”

  No answer. He checked every room in the small house, but she wasn’t there. Neither was her mother.

  “Front door is open,” Grange said, heaving big gulps of oxygen and dripping sweat from their extended run. “Maybe they got out.”

  “And maybe Pete took them out when the jets flew over.”

  Grange nodded. “I’ll go out the back and retrace. You take the front. Check in.”

  “You got it.”

  Jed ran through the front door, down the steps and onto the path, figuring if Elena had escaped, she’d go in that direction, hoping to find a way out. Stones marked a path for about fifty feet, then it was sand and a worn pathway leading through the jungle.

  He lifted his rifle, slowing his pace as the jungle thickened around him. He lifted his arm and swiped the sweat from his eyes.

  The crack of a twig to his left made him crouch down and focus in that direction. He dropped and rolled when a shot fired at him but missed.

  Another shot. He flattened himself on his belly and took aim, looking for the shooter. He followed him with his sight, tracking his movements as he inched through the jungle.

  This guy wasn’t very good. Jed’s finger poised on the trigger, he drew the guy in his sights, about to pull the trigger when a shot rang out and he dropped, his left arm burning. A warm trickle of blood slid down his arm. He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and tied it around his arm to stop the flow of blood, ignoring the pounding pain.

  Motherfucker, they had him pinned on both sides.

  He went running deeper into the woods, taking fire from his left and right. But he got ahead of them, then found a thick tree to hide behind and waited for them to come get him.

  He heard the one on the left first.

  Silence wasn’t their forte, so he heard the shooter on the run. Jed aimed and fired, and the first one went down with a thundering crash.

  He changed position right away so the second shooter wouldn’t be able to get a point on his position.

  Catching his breath, he found a spot, belly crawled a few feet, trying not to make any noise while listening for sounds of others. He didn’t hear anything, so he found a large rock and tossed it.

  That’s when he heard the other one coming up on the position where he’d tossed the rock.

  He rose, moved in behind him, spotted the target creeping through the foliage. He got him in his sights and took the shot, dropping him.

  He dove back into the jungle, keeping watch for other shooters.

  Time was wasting and he had to find Elena.

  * * *

  Elena was lost. Hopelessly lost. She’d started out on the path, then was afraid that made them an easy target and they’d run into Pete or one of his guards, so she dove into the jungle, figuring they could hide out if they needed to until Jed and Grange found them.

  And they would find them. She’d heard the jet overhead. It had to be them.

  Her mother’s progress was slow. She was tired and weak and mostly blind, so she couldn’t run. Elena had to tell her mother where to step so she wouldn’t trip over the gnarled roots sticking up out of the ground.

  After they’d walked for a while, she finally settled them against a hollowed-out tree trunk to take a rest. She didn’t know how long they’d survive out here without food and water, but she’d figure out a way.

  And she hoped they were far enough away from the house. She had no idea how much time had elapsed, but it was getting close.

  She wanted to get farther, like out to the beach, but she didn’t want to get into a clearing. Maybe they’d be safe here.

  She heard the crackle of leaves, the snap of wood.

  And maybe they wer
en’t safe here after all.

  Then again, it might be Jed and Grange, and if she stayed silent, she might miss them.

  Tension knotted in her stomach. She didn’t know what to do.

  “Elena.”

  She silenced her mother with her hand, and took a peek around the edge of the tree.

  The gun pressed against her cheek.

  “There you are, Elena. I was wondering where you and your mother had disappeared to.”

  Pete.

  Her heart sank.

  “Get up.”

  She couldn’t move. He did, though, coming around to yank her mother up by the hair. Her mother cried out.

  “Stop it!” Elena screamed. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt her.”

  Pete smiled, and she’d never seen anything more vicious, or more insane.

  “Good girl. We’re going back to the house.”

  Elena shook her head. “No.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “We’re not going back there with you. There’s a bomb in the house.”

  Her mother turned her head. “What? A bomb?”

  “That’s right, Carla.” Pete caressed her face with the gun, his hand still holding her hair tight. “A bomb. I’m going to blow up you and your precious daughter. Grange is here somewhere. He’s going to watch and there’s nothing he’s going to be able to do to save you. Just like I had to watch my Dina die and could do nothing to save her. And once again it’s going to be all his fault.”

  “You’re mad,” her mother said.

  He laughed. “Oh, I’m beyond mad. I’m getting my vengeance. Finally.”

  “Please let my mother go, Pete. Just take me,” Elena pleaded.

  “You come with me or I’ll shoot her right now, leave her here and take you to the house.” He motioned with his rifle.

  Defeated, she had no choice but to lead the way, figuring as long as they were both alive, they still had a chance.