by Paige Tyler
Trent didn’t say anything for a long time, his mind racing as he fought to stay calm. He wanted to pound Marco senseless for dragging Lyla into this, but that wouldn’t do any good. If he was right, she was out of the country already and on her way to Mexico.
“Where exactly did those assholes take her?” he demanded.
Marco shook his head. “This isn’t anything you can get involved in. Cobb is a cold-blooded killer, and he has at least twenty equally vicious guards on his property down in Monterrey at all times. You have to let me deal with this my way. When I take the sculptures to Cobb, he’ll let Lyla go.”
Trent cursed, releasing Marco and walking away, leaving him lying there on the workbench. After half a dozen steps, he turned around.
“Do you seriously think Cobb is the kind of man who’s going to let your sister go after he’s kidnapped her and held her prisoner?” Trent asked. “He’s going to kill her as soon as he gets what he wants, probably right after he kills you.”
Marco sat up on the bench, a man defeated. “I know. But what else can I do? I got her into this. I have to get her out.”
Trent stabbed him with a glare. “No. We have to get her out. And that starts with you telling me exactly where Lyla is, and finishes with you going to Cobb’s place tomorrow night just like he wanted.”
Marco looked at him in confusion. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to call some friends then we’re going down to Monterrey to get Lyla back. I’ll kill every one of those SOBs who took her if I have to.”
Chapter Ten
“ARE YOU OKAY, lady?”
At the soft voice near her ear, Lyla jerked awake, bolting upright. Her head spun in protest, and she closed her eyes again, hoping it would go away. When it finally did, she slowly reached up and pressed her fingers to the area above her left temple. It felt like someone had hit her with a hammer.
She cautiously opened her eyes, squinting against the beams of light from the overhead chandelier. Fortunately, the stabbing pain lasted for only a moment this time then receded into a dull throb she could live with.
Lyla looked around, trying to figure out where she was. She was still taking in the distinctive Mexican décor in the living room when she saw the little girl who’d woken her up. Maybe seven or eight years old, she had a cute, cherubic face topped with a wild tangle of pale blond hair and gray-green eyes that were surveying Lyla with an expression of concern.
Lyla smiled at her. “Hello.”
The little girl didn’t return her greeting. Instead, she regarded Lyla with eyes that seemed far too old for the rest of her face. “Are you seeing fireflies in your head?”
The question caught Lyla off guard. “What?”
“When you close your eyes, do you see little lights flashing on and off behind them? That’s what happens to me when I get hit really hard in the head.”
Lyla frowned. “Do you get hit in the head a lot?”
“I guess.” The girl shrugged. “My dad says I have a thick head and that hitting me is the only way to get me to pay attention.”
Lyla’s heart broke right there on the spot, and it was all she could do to not reach out and tug the little girl in for a hug. But she didn’t know who Lyla was and had no reason to trust her. Pulling her in for a protective hug probably wasn’t the best idea.
As Lyla sat there fighting a maternal instinct she’d never known she possessed, she suddenly realized who the little girl was. Heck, who else could she be?
“By any chance, is your name Erika?”
The girl grinned. “Uh-huh. How did you know?”
Lyla’s lips curved. “Marco mentioned there might be a little angel down here in Mexico named Erika. And since you look like an angel, I guessed you must be Erika.”
The girl’s smile broadened, her face lighting up with excitement. “You know Marco? He’s my uncle! He takes me out for cheeseburgers and reads me stories at night. He’s helping me to learn how to read so I’ll be ready to go to school someday.”
“Don’t you go to school now?” Lyla asked, sure the girl was old enough.
Erika shook her head. “Uncle Marco says I should, but Daddy won’t let me.” The girl leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes, I wish Marco was my dad instead of my real father.”
Tears stung Lyla’s eyes. She was ready to forgive her brother for nearly all the stupid things he’d done in his life because of the kindness he’d shown this little girl.
“My name is Lyla,” she said, leaning forward to share the information in a conspiratorial whisper. “Marco is my brother.”
That admission must have shocked Erika because she blinked. Lyla took the moment of silence to look around the room, noticing that the big, heavy double doors on the far side of the room were closed. She wondered if they were locked. Probably.
“I guess we’re both hostages here, huh?” she asked, turning back to Erika.
The girl eyed her funny. “I don’t know what that word means. That’s a big word.”
Lyla laughed. “It means we’re both trapped in this room. How long has Mr. Cobb been keeping you here?”
Instead of clarifying the situation, Lyla’s comments made Erika frown.
“I’m not trapped here.” The little girl turned to point at a window, which Lyla hadn’t realized was open until that moment. “I came in that way. I can go back to my room any time I want. It’s where I sleep whenever my daddy brings me here.”
Lyla got up and walked over to the window, not at all dizzy now. Then she looked out into the darkness beyond and swayed on her feet. She grabbed the window for support. She couldn’t make out all the details, but she saw enough to know they were on the second floor and that the ground below was strewn with boulders and scary-looking landscaping. They had to be at least fifteen or twenty feet above the ground.
“You climbed all the way up here?” she asked, turning to look at Erika in shock.
Erika smiled. “Uh-huh. I like to climb. I’m very good at it. Uncle Archie doesn’t like me climbing around his house, but that’s because he’s a meanie.”
Understanding abruptly dawned on Lyla. “Mr. Cobb—Uncle Archie—didn’t grab you and bring you down here against your daddy’s wishes?”
Erika laughed, skipping over to her. “No. Daddy brings me here when he works for Uncle Archie.”
“Is your daddy working for Uncle Archie now?”
The girl nodded. “Yes. He’s downstairs talking to him. Uncle Archie and Daddy are both meanies.”
“Is Marco a meanie, too?” Lyla asked. “Does he work for Uncle Archie, too?”
Erika shook her head. “No. Marco doesn’t like Uncle Archie, but he’s nice to me. Well, he makes me eat vegetables sometimes. I don’t like vegetables.”
Crap. Tim Price and Archie Cobb had been playing her brother. Cobb hadn’t grabbed Erika and dragged her off to Mexico against her father’s wishes. Tim had lied to Marco about Erika, knowing it would get her brother to do exactly what Cobb wanted.
Lyla was still pondering that revelation when she heard voices coming from the hallway outside the double doors. She thought one of the voices was familiar, but she wasn’t sure where she’d heard it before. Erika recognized it, though. Eyes wide, she ran behind the couch and crouched down.
“It’s Daddy,” she whispered. “Don’t tell him I’m here, or he’ll beat me good!”
Before Lyla could say anything, the doors opened and Tim Price barged in, a suspicious look in his eyes. Broken Nose was with him, a fresh bandage on his face. Tim looked at Lyla then around the room before he swung his gaze back to her.
“I heard voices in here,” he said. “Who were you talking to?”
“Myself,” she said. “Who do you think?”
Tim must not have believed her because he came farther into the room, heading straight for the couch. Lyla moved quickly to intercept him.
“How long do you think you can hold me here?” she demanded. “I’m
an American citizen. You can’t just keep me here.”
Price shoved past her and walked around behind the couch, cursing when he saw Ericka. “I told you to stay in your fucking room, you little brat!”
He reached for Erika, but she quickly darted away, running around the other side of the couch to hide behind Lyla.
“Stay the hell away from her!” Lyla ordered.
Price’s lips peeled back from his teeth in a sneer as he cocked his fist back and prepared to hit her. “Get the hell out of my way, bitch!”
Lyla put one arm back to make sure Erika stayed safely tucked behind her. She wasn’t sure what this act of defiance was going to gain the girl. As soon as Lyla went down, Price was going to start in on his daughter.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” an angry voice demanded.
Tim stopped in mid-step, jaw tight.
Lyla blinked, stunned to see Marco standing in the doorway.
“Uncle Marco!” Erika exclaimed.
“I’ve brought the damn sculptures Cobb asked for,” Marco said, crossing the room to put himself between Tim and Lyla. “I’m taking my sister and Erika, and we’re leaving.”
Tim’s expression changed, the rage draining slowly away. Lyla wasn’t too sure she was thrilled with the malicious look left in its place.
“You brought those damn pieces of twisted metal the boss wanted?” Tim asked. “All of them?”
“All of them,” Marco said. “And now that I’ve seen Erika and my sister are okay here in the living room on the second floor, I don’t see any reason to wait around any longer.”
Lyla was wondering why her brother was talking so strangely when Tim reached behind his back and came out with a large automatic weapon, pointing it in their direction.
“Now that the boss has what he needs out of you, there’s absolutely no reason to keep you around any longer,” Tim said. “Or your sister.”
Lyla shoved Erika behind her again when the girl tried to see around her then she started easing both of them toward the window. She had no idea what the hell she was going to do when she got there, but hopefully she could get the little girl out of here.
“Daddy,” Erika said softly, popping her head out from behind Lyla.
Tim cut her off with a look. “Enough of that daddy shit from you! I should have thrown you out on the street the day I came home from prison. But I’ll fix that mistake now, too.”
Tim turned his weapon on Erika just as an explosion shook the building. A split second later, the lights went out, plunging the room into total darkness.
Then all hell broke loose.
Chapter Eleven
“THAT’S THE SIGNAL,” Trent announced, listening to Marco’s voice in his radio earpiece. “Blow the transformer. All teams move in. Lyla, Marco, and the kid are on the second level, right rear of the house. Watch your fire in that direction.”
The signal had been Marco announcing he’d found Lyla and Erika. Trent had been worried about Marco keeping it together in a stressful situation, but so far, he was doing what they needed him to do.
A moment after Trent gave the word, there was the distinctive thump of half a dozen blocks of C-4 plastic explosives going off near the far side of the dwelling where the transformer that supplied power to Archie Cobb’s entire estate was located. A second later, every light inside went out.
Trent and Nash immediately sprang into action, making a beeline for the house. It was their job to get Lyla, Marco, and the little girl named Erika out of there. While they were doing that, Dalton and Chasen would lead two other teams, each composed of two CIA SOG operatives. It would be up to them to deal with the army of security guards Cobb employed to protect his residence.
The shooting from the front of the residence as well as the guard complex to the left of it echoed in the night, accompanied by the sharper cracks and booms of concussive hand grenades going off. From a purely number perspective, the SEAL/SOG teams were seriously overmatched. According to Marco, Cobb had somewhere in the range of thirty-five goons living and working on the compound at any one time. That was a lot of weapons to go up against. But what Trent and the other guys lacked in numbers, they more than made up for in training and discipline. With the element of surprise, and all the lights taken out, he and his Team had the advantage in this fight.
Trent led the way into the house through the back door near the kitchen, moving quickly down the hallway beyond. Right before Marco had given the signal, it had sounded like there was trouble brewing up on the second floor. Trent hadn’t heard anything beyond indistinct grunts and mutters since then, but they didn’t have time to screw around and get slowed down dealing with bad guys roaming around the house.
As he moved, the infrared emitter on his NVGs and M4 carbines flooded the area ahead of them with light only their goggles could see. But the IR light did its job, making the interior of the house glow bright green in their optics. It was as bright as daylight in here.
They were damn lucky to have any advanced gear for this fight. When he’d first called Chasen to tell him what happened and what he’d hoped his boss would help him do, he’d expected to go in with nothing more than some local weapons they could scrounge up after they’d already slipped across the border into Mexico. He had visions of assaulting Cobb’s well-guarded estate with little more than a couple .38 Specials and a salty vocabulary. But assistance had come from the most unlikely source—Joe and his SOG warriors.
Joe and his guys hadn’t just helped get Trent, Nash, Chasen, and Dalton across the border into Mexico and down to Monterrey before noon today. They’d also gotten them weapons, NVGs, medic gear for Nash, the communication system they were using, and a complete floor plan of Cobb’s estate.
Trent had been more surprised when Joe announced they’d be going in with them to help get Lyla and the others out. Trent couldn’t put into words how much he appreciated that. They were in a foreign country, conducting an operation that wasn’t authorized by anybody. If things went wrong, they’d all end up in jail for life—or worse. The fact Joe and his men were willing to risk everything for Trent’s girlfriend, her brother, and a little girl they didn’t know was pretty serious stuff.
As he and Nash entered the huge living room, Trent couldn’t help but start a little when they rounded a corner heading toward the stairs and came face to face with a monstrous creature at least five feet high at the shoulder with glowing frigging eyes. Trent almost shot the damn thing before he realized it was a big metal sculpture. One of Marco’s pieces that looked like a lion with huge horns and a long tail. Trent vaguely remembered Dana saying something about Cobb buying it. The thing was damn freaky looking in the green glow of the NVGs.
They’d just started moving up the stairs when they heard gunshots coming from the second floor.
Trent took the steps two at a time, Nash on his heels. Please let them not be too late.
When they got to the top of the stairs, they immediately ran toward the room at the end of the hallway. Trent slipped through the open door, instinctively moving to the right to make room for Nash.
The big guy whose nose Trent had busted in Cobb’s club was in the middle of the room, clumsily getting to his knees, blood running down his bandaged face while Price was partially hidden behind the leather couch, his weapon pointed at someone near the far end.
Trent stepped to the side and adjusted his weapon to go for a head shot—the only part of the man he could get an angle on—when a blur of movement caught his attention. He had a fraction of a second to see Marco dart across the room as he squeezed the trigger.
Trent’s carbine and Price’s pistol went off at the exact same time. As Price tumbled to the floor, a third shot rang out. Nash taking out the guy with the bandaged nose. Ignoring them for a moment, Trent hurried toward the couch, fearing what he would find behind it.
Suddenly, the lights came on, the flare of brightness in his NVGs blinding him, and he ripped them off with curse. Shit, there was a backup g
enerator. That hadn’t been part of the intel the SOG guys had provided. This was going to be a problem.
Outside the windows, floodlights started going on all over the huge compound. Within seconds, Dalton and Chasen were calling out instructions to regroup and pull back as the stealth advantage they’d had seconds ago disappeared in a flash.
Trent ignored the radio chatter, dropping his NVGs, and moved around the couch. He stopped cold when he saw the mound of bodies there. Marco was on top, blood spreading from a wound along his lower back. Lyla was curled up tight under her brother, a little girl with blond hair in her arms.
No!
He lunged forward at the same time Marco rolled over with a groan of pain. Nash was immediately at Trent’s side, ripping Marco’s shirt open to reveal the wound and see how bad it was.
Trent reached for Lyla, his heart seizing when he saw blood covering her right side. Oh God. She’d been hit, too.
But when he touched her, she opened her eyes, staring at him shock for a second before shoving herself up to hug him.
“I knew you’d come,” she said, squeezing so tightly he could barely breath. He’d never felt anything so wonderful in his life. Breathing was overrated anyway.
Trent hugged her back, something that turned out to be more difficult than he would have thought since she was still holding a child enveloped protectively in her left arm.
He pulled away gently, gazing at her and the little girl in her arms in concern. “Are you hurt? Where are you bleeding? Is the kid okay?”
That’s when Lyla seemed to realize there was blood on her shirt. She immediately freaked out. Not about herself, but for the kid in her arms.
“Oh God! Erika, are you okay?”
The little girl brushed her hair out of face then looked down seriously at herself before lifting her head. “Yes,” she said in a small voice. “Are you okay?”
Lyla opened her mouth to answer, but Trent was already frisking her body, looking for the source of the bloodstains. When he didn’t find anything, he breathed a sigh of relief.
