When She's Gone

by Palmer, Jane;

  “Ara, they locked me up . . . they killed . . .” Sam was sputtering with relief, her frantic need to communicate interfering with her ability to talk.

  “Everything is going to be okay.” Ara placed a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. She kept her tone confident and reassuring. She didn’t feel it. Inside, she was a bundle of nerves and half of her was waiting for the sound of a gunshot to ring out. “I promise.”

  Sam sucked in a breath, held Ara’s gaze for a moment, and then let it out. The panic seemed to ease in her, disappearing with her breath into the cool night air.

  Ara ran her hands along the chains securing Sam to the post. The darkness of the dock made it nearly impossible to see, even though her eyes had adjusted.

  “We need to get you out of here.” She frantically started unwrapping the chains holding Sam to the post.

  “Hurry,” Sam cried. “Hurry.”

  The roar of a motorcycle gave Ara pause. She spun around and saw it enter the parking lot. Placing her body in front of Sam’s, she held her weapon out.

  He disappeared behind a building. Ara’s heart pounded in her chest. She waited. One beat. Two. When he appeared again, he stayed along the shadows. She tracked his movements and then, just for a moment, a faint light hit his face.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Luke! We’re here!”

  A sickening crack echoed across the shipyard, and Ara was jerked off her feet. Her gun flew out of her hand and skittered across the wooden dock as she slammed onto it, rapping her head hard enough to see stars. A thunderous roar broke through her haze. When her vision cleared, she watched in slow horror as the dock broke away from the mainland in a shower of splintering wood.

  “Ara! The dock is being destroyed. Get off the dock.”

  Luke’s urgent commands spurred her into action. On wobbly legs, she grabbed at Sam, pulling and tugging the chains off of her. She was so consumed with the need to free her that she didn’t see the incoming boat until it was too late.

  A container ship sliced through the end of the dock like a knife cutting through butter. The damaged wooden structure shuddered, but miraculously stayed afloat, and with a tug, it began to drift out to sea.

  The last chain of Sam’s makeshift prison fell away, dropping into the whirling sea. Sam clung to Ara, gripping her with painful desperation. The dock swayed and rocked violently, thrown against the waves caused by the container ship, as the propellers churned the water below. Jumping in now would probably kill them both, and it was the only reason Ara stayed on the dock, holding the post Sam had been chained to with all she had.

  On the deck of the container ship stood several men. Two of them she recognized immediately as the men who’d cornered her and Luke at the club: Scar Face and Ivan. The last man, the one holding a gun, was tall and good looking.

  And he pointed a weapon straight at them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “Where is the damn coast guard?” Luke demanded. “We need them out on the water now!”

  “They’re on their way, but there are a lot of ships.” Thomas advised. “It’s going to take them time to navigate to the one she’s on.”

  “God damn it. What about helicopters?”

  “Twenty minutes out.”

  “They don’t have twenty minutes.”

  Thomas leveled a look at him. “You couldn’t have known they would tear a dock away with Sam and Ara on it. We planned for a foot attack, a potential sniper, not for a battle on a ship.”

  Luke shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  The entire operation had turned to shit. Any sense of control they’d had was gone. Luke had planned and strategized for what he thought was every potential scenario. But this . . . there had been no preparation for this, and his mistake would cost Ara her life.

  “Do we still have a GPS location on her?” Luke asked.

  “We do.” Thomas showed him the tracker. “And I’ve forwarded the coordinates to the coast guard.”

  Another member of his team ran up. “She’s still wearing her microphone.” He handed Luke the communicator. The sound of Ara’s breathing along with Sam’s whimpers cut him straight to the bone. He felt helpless.

  Taking a calming breath, careful to keep his voice steady, he clicked on the microphone that would transmit his instructions. “Ara, I’m here. Keep talking, if you can. Give me everything you know about your location. I’m sending help.”

  He waited, uncertain if she could still hear him. Nothing over the speakers. Just the sounds of water and wind.

  “Three men on board.”

  Her voice came through clear and controlled. Luke swallowed hard. In clipped, cop tones, she described the setting. “Scar Face and Ivan from Mist. The other one is dark haired, five-nine, one-eighty. Dark hair has a handgun.”

  “Maksim.” Sam’s voice was muffled, but still Luke could make out the name.

  “Dark-haired man is named Maksim,” Ara confirmed. Beside him, Thomas flew to the computer balanced on a nearby car and began researching.

  “I can’t see the name of the container—” Ara stopped midsentence. It took everything Luke had not to get on the microphone and demand she keep talking.

  “Don’t shoot,” she said loudly. “We’ll get on the ship. There’s no need to threaten the girl.”

  Damn it. Maksim knew exactly how to control Ara. She would do anything to protect Sam, and he would use that weakness against her to gain the upper hand.

  “Let Sam go and you can take me.”

  A pause. Luke strained, desperate to hear if he could pick up anything else. The gunshot turned his blood cold.

  * * *

  In her arms, Sam jumped and screamed as the bullet whizzed past them, so close Ara swore she could feel the heat of it graze her.

  “Ara!” Luke voice yelled in her ear. “Ara!”

  “We’re okay,” she whispered, hiding her mouth from the men behind Sam’s head. “No one’s hurt.”

  “Climb up the ladder,” Maksim ordered. “I won’t say it again.”

  The water still churned underneath them, rocking what was left of the dock so violently Ara wouldn’t have been able to stand upright if she hadn’t been holding onto the post. Still, she glanced at the water, trying to calculate their chances.

  “The propeller is running.” Amusement made Maksim’s accent richer and heavier. “You’ll be sucked under the boat and killed nearly immediately. If you’d like to save me the trouble, though, by all means.”

  The other men laughed.

  In her arms, Sam trembled, and tears silently streamed down her face. Another piece of the dock splintered, came off, and was quickly tugged underneath the ship, just as Maksim had promised.

  There wasn’t a choice.

  Ara leaned closer to Sam, whispering in her ear. “Climb the ladder. Stay close to me.”

  “They’re going to kill us.”

  “They haven’t yet, which means they want something else.”

  The rungs of the metal ladder felt icy under her fingers. Above her, Sam wobbled, and Ara briefly placed a reassuring touch on her ankle.

  “Hurry, Luke,” she whispered into the microphone.

  Despite her words, Ara was already considering alternative options. It was just her out here with these men, and she couldn’t count on Luke being able to help her now. She needed to come up with some way of protecting Sam, of escaping.

  Sam was jerked off the last rung by Maksim, who held his gun directly to her head. He flashed Ara a winning smile as she climbed over the lip of the ship and dropped to the deck. She raised her hands in surrender. The two other henchmen circled up behind her, close enough she could feel their breath on the back of her neck.

  “Don’t shoot her,” she said to Maksim.

  He smirked. “Don’t make me. Take off all the wires you’ve been given.”

  Ara hesitated. Cutting radio contact with Luke was bad, but she’d still have the GPS tracker. He would still be able to find her.<
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  She reached inside her shirt and pulled out the microphone. She also removed her earpiece. Scar Face snatched them from her hand with one meaty fist and tossed them overboard.

  “Now,” Maksim continued, “the GPS tracker please.”

  Her eyebrows creased in mock confusion, even as a cold feeling of dread washed over her skin. “I’m not wearing a GPS tracker.”

  “You’re lying.” His mouth twisted in anger, and he pushed his gun harder against Sam’s temple. He crooked a finger at Scar Face, who approached Ara with a portable scanner.

  Damn it.

  She squelched any trembling through sheer force of will. The scanner quickly beeped, and Scar Face smirked, ripping the barrette from her hair.

  “Do you think we’re fools?” he asked her.

  “Get him,” Maksim ordered. Ivan moved quickly below deck, his wide shoulders barely able to fit through the space. Sam whimpered, and Ara met her frightened, wide-eyed gaze. She let her expression warm, keeping her back straight, conveying no possible hint of fear to the teenager. It didn’t matter that they were trapped on a boat with three men who were going to kill them. What mattered was that Sam remained calm, kept her wits, and took the moment of opportunity when it came.

  Ara couldn’t be sure, but she thought a hardness entered Sam’s gaze, an ever-so-slight lifting of her chin.

  There was a clatter on the stairs, and moments later, Ivan returned with an unconscious figure thrown over his shoulder. He threw him down onto the deck at Ara’s feet.

  Eddie Flores. Ara winced to see his bloody and bruised face.

  “Put the tracker on him,” Maksim ordered. “Quickly.”

  The henchman moved faster than Ara would’ve thought for someone of his size. Clipping the barrette into Eddie’s dark locks, he hauled the man up over his shoulder again.

  What were they doing?

  He walked to the far side of the boat and flung Eddie right over. Sam screamed.

  “Don’t worry, he isn’t dead. Yet.” Maksim passed a glance over to Ara. “Shall we go and see? Mark, take her.”

  Maksim shoved Sam toward Scar Face, whose real name was obviously Mark, before passing him the weapon as well. Mark promptly placed the gun at Sam’s temple, holding a firm arm around her throat.

  Maksim, his hands now free, grabbed Ara’s upper arm and tugged her over to the side of the ship.

  “Look,” he ordered, pointing down below.

  Eddie was on a small, motorized boat. Still unconscious, his arms and legs splayed out, lifeless as a doll.

  Maksim stepped up closer to Ara. He smelled like rich cologne, and Ara knew, if she ever lived through this, she would never again be able to smell the scent without gagging. He bent down to whisper, his breath warm on the shell of her ear.

  “You see, I’ve rigged the boat with some explosives. They’re set to detonate soon.”

  The boat started moving, and Ara caught, out of the corner of her eye, Ivan using a remote control. Her eyes drifted back to the small vessel starting to make its way out to empty sea.

  She couldn’t save Eddie. That knowledge cut her to the core. Eddie was far from innocent, but he didn’t deserve this.

  An anger, deep and powerful, bloomed inside of her. If she survived, she would never stop until she’d hunted Maksim. He’d threatened Sam and her. He’d played with Eddie’s life. And now he’d put more lives at stake.

  The FBI, Luke—they would believe it was her. They would think she was on that boat, and they might send agents after her. When the vessel exploded, it would kill them all.

  Her heart sank to realize that Luke himself might try to come after her.

  “How long?” she asked.

  Maksim just chuckled in response. He grabbed her arm again, jerking his head toward the gunman holding Sam. “Let’s take them below deck.”

  Ara sucked in a breath. It was now or never.

  She swung around suddenly, her fist primed and ready. It connected with his chin and, to her extreme pleasure, Maksim’s head flew back. Another well-placed jab to his stomach knocked all the wind from him, and he landed on the floor of the ship, whistling for air.

  Without pausing, without even thinking, Ara lowered her head and ran toward the man holding Sam. A shot grazed her and heat flamed in her arm. She ignored it and kept pumping ahead, slamming into him with all her body weight.

  Oh God, it was like hitting a concrete wall.

  He stumbled back and his arms windmilled, trying to prevent the fall. Ara only took one second to push Sam out of the way before she slammed into him again.

  He screamed as he flew off the side of the ship.

  “Ara!” Sam’s panicked cry gave her only a moment to turn and duck before the other henchman, Ivan, swung a fist at her head. It missed the main target and glanced off her shoulder.

  Fuck!

  He’d hit her gunshot wound, the screaming pain bringing a rush of tears to her eyes. She sidestepped the next blow and attempted one of her own, a well-placed jab in the kidney that would have him pissing blood for days. He howled with rage and swung around, catching her by the neck and tossing her to the ground like a rag doll. Dazed, she struggled to get to her feet.

  Click.

  “Don’t move, or I will kill her.”

  Ara shut her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head up, and through the strands of her hair, saw Maksim holding Sam, once again at gunpoint.

  Sam’s gaze was apologetic, but Ara could hardly blame her. She was not a trained officer. The only way off this ship was with Ara, and even she hadn’t been sure how they would get away.

  Maksim stepped forward and swiftly kicked Ara right in the stomach. All of her breath was stolen by the sharp point of his boot, and she collapsed again against the cold, hard floor of the main deck.

  “You stupid bitch.” He kicked her again and Ara gagged. The sickening crack of a rib or two was followed by a stabbing pain. “I liked Mark.”

  She felt a swell of pride at the anger in his voice. She’d surprised him, humiliated him, and there was almost nothing worse for a criminal of his nature.

  There was no way she could overpower them, though. Not now. Her best bet would be to fake it, to pretend her injuries were worse than they were. Ivan’s meaty hands closed around her arms, pulling her to her feet, and she played as though her legs would not cooperate. Blood from the gunshot wound ran down her arm, helping to give the impression that she was seriously wounded. In all truth, it was probably nothing more than a graze. It hurt like hell, but she’d been shot before and this wasn’t nearly as bad.

  “I’ve fucking had it,” Maksim muttered as he jerked Sam’s hands behind her back and secured them with a zip tie. As he approached her, Ivan pulled on Ara’s wrists, and she winced. She let out a cry of pain. Maksim tightened the zip tie more than necessary around Ara’s wrists, and the plastic cut into her skin.

  Jerking his head at Ivan, Maksim once again claimed Sam’s arm, and the group of them moved toward rickety stairs leading to the belly of the ship.

  “There’s no need,” a voice said from the darkness. “I got tired of waiting. I’m coming up.”

  Instantly, the demeanor of the two men changed. They backed away from the stairs, taking Ara and Sam with them. Their shoulders straightened, their backs went rigid, their jaws tightened. All of the arrogance Maksim seemed to exude from his very skin washed away with those simple words.

  Ara’s gaze locked on the stairs to see what had caused such a transformation. As the man rose on the stairs, coming out from the darkness like the devil from hell, the light hit his face and Ara immediately recognized him.

  Dmitri Grishnokov.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “Hello, Ara. So nice to meet you again.” Dmitri’s voice reminded her of good Russian vodka. Smooth, powerful, but with the promise of a bite at the end.

  Behind him, two men appeared. Ara instantly recognized one as Nick Flores. The young man had been beaten, much like his cousin.
His face was a mass of bruises, one eye swollen shut, his nose most likely broken. He was pushed forward, at gunpoint, by another of Dmitri’s henchmen.

  Sam released a hushed sob at the sight of Nick.

  “Sam,” Nick whispered, and earned himself a solid punch to the stomach from his jailer. He hit the deck with a thud, gasping for air.

  “Don’t!” Sam screamed, fighting against the hands holding her. “Don’t hurt him.”

  Dmitri chuckled, stepping closer to Ara. “Ah, young love. Isn’t it a beautiful thing?”

  His dark gaze took in everything, missing none of the details. The blood seeping out of the sleeve of Ara’s jacket, the bruise appearing on Maksim’s face.

  “What happened?” Dmitri demanded. “Where is Mark?”

  Maksim ducked his head. “There was some resistance.”

  “I warned you. She’s not one to go down without a fight.” Dmitri clapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’ve disappointed me, cost me a good man. We’ll deal with that later.”

  “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “Uh, I hate to break up this bonding moment the two of you have going on but,” Ara said, lifting her chin and meeting Dmitri’s gaze with a hard one of her own, “you have received the money as agreed. Your man can confirm it’s in the bank account you provided. Now let us go.”

  “Not yet.”

  He began to circle around her, Ivan stepping back so that Dmitri could make a full round.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  The corners of Dmitri’s mouth curled up in a cold imitation of a smile. “Don’t you remember me?”

  “We met at Mist.”

  “No, no, my dear Ara. We met long before that.”

  He was close to her now, his breath warm and minty on her face. She stared into his dark eyes. “You were in the town car. When the house in Austin was burning down, you drove by and then sped off.”

  Dmitri smiled, trailing a finger down the curve of her cheek. “Bravo. You found it.” He gripped her chin forcefully. “But do you know why I was there?”