Eventually, we came across a decent sized stream trickling through the forest, and Lola followed this for a while, until the ground sloped downward toward a clearing, where it plunged over an abrupt edge toward a pool. At first, I thought I was seeing a natural waterfall with a pond at the bottom, but then I looked more closely and realized this was more of Tai’s clever handiwork. The slope of the earth was natural, but Tai had carved away part of the hillside and built a rock wall, and then had dug a pool some ten feet across and probably five or so feet deep. On the side of the pool opposite the short waterfall, Tai had allowed the stream to carry on through the forest on its way out to the rest of the waterway. The constant flow of water kept the pool fresh and clean, and even though Tai had artificially created the waterfall and pool, he’d done it in such a way that it looked and felt totally natural. Most importantly, because he’d also cleared away the underbrush around the pool, he’d left no hiding places for snakes. I knew enough about the Everglades to know that cottonmouths, also known as water moccasins, were a problem, one major reason to never enter the water in the ’Glades, especially at night, when the predatory nocturnal snakes were most active.
I grinned at Lola. “Let me guess, another summer project?”
She feigned a dramatic eye-roll. “Actually we did this one over Christmas break.” A laugh. “I didn’t complain about doing this project at all, because until we created this we had to take baths the hard way, by carting buckets of water across the island by hand, heating them up, and squatting in this tiny little tub, which was actually just a livestock watering tank. It was a super difficult pain in the ass, and I totally understand why people in the olden days didn’t bathe very often, if that was the only way to do it.”
I eyed her with renewed respect. “So you really did grow up out here, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I spent half my life out here, no plumbing, no electricity. Shit, there weren’t even walls. I can hunt, fish with a bow and arrow, I can tell you which plants are edible, and I know how to treat a cottonmouth bite. When I’d go back for the first day of school I went through culture shock all over again.”
I nodded at the pool. “So there aren’t any snakes in there, right?”
“That’s why we built it, for cottonmouth-free bathing.”
She picked her way down the hill to the side of the pool, sat down on the edge, and then slipped in. The water was deep enough to cover her breasts, which meant it would probably hit me at waist height, maybe a little higher. I slid in after her, pleasantly surprised to find the water cool enough to be refreshing but not cold enough to make my balls retract.
There are moments in life that you just know you’ll never forget. Events that get burned into your mind, good or bad, and you are aware even as it’s happening that you’ll always be able to recall every detail with perfect clarity for as long as you live.
I don’t have many, and most of them aren’t…the most pleasant.
But this moment with Lola in the waterfall pool was one of those moments that were instantly burned into my soul. This one was brighter, clearer, sharper, deeper, and it was one I would never want to forget, even if I could.
The scene was a montage of so many arresting images: Lola, illuminated by the silver moon, her breasts not quite covered by the water, her skin gleaming dark caramel, looking sweet enough to eat. The fall of the water, the way it splashed and spread ripples through the pool. The way Lola ducked under the water, her hair spreading across the surface like a spray of ink. Her finding my legs beneath the water, climbing up my body, surfacing, wet, dripping, breathtaking, her arms going around my neck to pull me in for a kiss. The taste of her mouth, the wet slide of her slick skin under my hands.
Each moment of that time in the pool is permanently seared into my memory.
Tai had built a little shelf into the rock wall behind the waterfall, and there was a bar of soap and two small bottles of shampoo and conditioner. We stood beneath the water and washed each other, which turned into more kissing, which turned into Lola up against the rock wall, taking me inside her, bare, smooth, soft, wet, and warm, writhing against me through her orgasm, and then slipping out as she finished me with her hands, my come smearing against her skin and on her hands and belly, washed away by the spray of water.
Which meant washing again, but you’ll never catch me complaining about an excuse to get my hands on Lola’s skin.
Eventually we had to get out, and it was still warm enough that by the time we reached the fale, we were both dry.
We lowered the mosquito netting Tai had installed around the interior of the fale, and lay down in the nest of sheets and pillows in the center of the platform. Lola snuggled up against me, her spine to my front, spooning me, tugging my hand tight across her chest. And, for the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly at peace.
14: COMPANY
I wasn’t sure what woke me up at first.
Thresh was a huge warm presence behind me, his cast-bound hand draped over me, his fingers clutching my breast. Despite having given him four orgasms, his cock was erect again and snugged tight between the globes of my ass. I drowsed for a few moments, contemplating idly how if things continued like this with Thresh, I’d need to get on birth control, because I’d finally found a man as sexually insatiable as I was.
I thought about how I could wake him up, rub my ass against him, see if could get him to come before he even woke up.
But then something niggled at me.
What was it?
Something had woken me up.
I blinked, opening my eyes, focusing my senses. The fire had gone out, a thin trail of smoke trickling skyward in the dim gray of early dawn.
Then it hit me: the birds were silent, the frogs had quieted. Around here, it was never silent.
Then I heard it: the low buzz of an outboard motor. Close, and approaching.
Dad would never use a motorboat and, last I knew, Filipo was still with him.
I rolled onto my back, shook Thresh’s shoulder. “Thresh,” I hissed. “Wake up.”
He blinked twice, and must have seen something on my face. He tapped his ear twice, then leaned toward me.
“Outboard motor,” I whispered. “It’s definitely not Dad, and if it’s Filipo, there’s something wrong. He would never come this early, and that’s assuming he ever went back home. Whoever it is, they’re too close.”
Thresh nodded, rolled to his feet, and crouched beside me. “Stay here.”
He dressed swiftly, stepping into his jeans—there was a small holster attached to the back of his jeans, with the butt of his small pistol sticking up from it, and the sheath for that huge dagger of his hung from the belt on his right hip. He tugged his shirt on, then made short work of his socks and combat boots. He ducked out from under the mosquito netting, rummaged in his backpack and produced a larger handgun, two extra clips of different sizes that he stuffed in each hip pocket to keep them separate. I watched as he checked the loads of each pistol, and then replaced the one at his back, his original pistol, and kept in hand the one I assumed he’d liberated from one of the bad guys he’d taken down.
By now the buzzing of the outboard motor was getting louder, meaning the boat was approaching this place.
Thresh was back by the platform. “Change of plans, babe. Get dressed and stay with me.”
I was dressed in a flash, and when I left the fale to stand beside Thresh, he handed me the smaller gun.
“Know how to use this?” he asked.
“Point it at the bad guy and pull the trigger?” I quipped.
He shrugged. “Essentially. Don’t jerk the trigger, though, squeeze it gently, and try not to anticipate the bang. Use both hands, like this—” He adjusted my hands so one hand was clutching the handle, finger along the trigger guard, the other wrapped around front of that hand to brace it. “And don’t shoot until you’re sure of your target. Could be your dad, or Filipo, or me, if we get separated. But if it’s not one
of us, and if that person has a weapon, don’t hesitate, just shoot. Doesn’t matter what they say. ‘We just want to talk, we’re not going to hurt you, we just want Thresh,’ doesn’t matter. They’re lying. Believe that, and don’t hesitate. Aim for center mass, and keep shooting until the person hits the ground.”
“What if it’s your friends?”
“It’s not. They know exactly where we are, and they’ll be approaching by helo.”
We heard a stick breaking behind us and Thresh reacted instantly, pivoting to put himself in front of me, pistol swinging up. I hadn’t bothered reacting, because I’d grown up with Dad. He was a ghost in the forest, utterly silent under all circumstances. So if he broke a twig, it was on purpose, and since the sound of the motor was still a ways off, I knew it was him.
He emerged from the trees, kukri in hand, signaling for quiet. Thresh came up out of the aggressive stance and moved toward Dad.
“Know anything about that boat?” Thresh asked in a low murmur.
Dad shook his head. “Only that it’s not friends. Filipo left yesterday evening, and that’s not his boat. I know that sound; it’s got a tic in the rotation. Whoever they are, they’ve been heading steadily this way for a while, but not directly.”
“Any safe assumptions?”
Dad considered. “I think your problems found Filipo and they’re making him show them the way here. But he’s too crafty for that and, unless you know this area, you can circle forever and not find the right inlet. He’s warning us.”
Thresh nodded. “Makes sense.” He gestured at Dad’s kukri. “You ever use something like that on a person?”
Another shake of Dad’s head. “No. But I will, to protect my daughter and my home, although I have no desire to do so.”
“I’ll try and keep it that way, then. Got somewhere you can hide with her?” He indicated me.
“I’m staying with you, Thresh,” I protested.
Thresh ground his jaws together. “Got no time for arguments, honey. I’m going on the offensive, and I can do this faster and more effectively if I know you’re hidden. You’ve got the gun, use it if necessary. You hear me whistle like this,” he let out a low, simple, three-tone whistle, “you’ll know it’s me, and it’s clear. You hear me call for you to come out, instead of whistling, you stay put. Got it?”
I nodded, feeling nervous, now. “Why would—”
The sound of the motor was loud enough now that I knew they were close to the inlet that would bring them here. I knew Filipo well enough to know he’d delay things as long as he could, but he also knew Dad wouldn’t want him to risk his life to protect this camp. He’d eventually lead them here, and it sounded like that was happening soon.
I closed my teeth over my question. “Go. We’ll be fine.”
Dad pulled me away, and I knew where we were going: a copse of trees deep in the center of the island, so dense and thick you could barely squeeze between the trees, and at the center of the copse was a small but deep pool, deep enough that you could stand up in it and only your nose and eyes would show over the top of the water.
I turned back to Thresh, and the man I’d been spending time with had vanished. Oh, he was still there physically, in the clearing by the fale. But it wasn’t Thresh, the man who’d kissed me, touched me, loved me.
It was the version of the man who’d swung a knife once, and killed a man. This Thresh somehow seemed larger, harder, sharper. His stance was different, the way he pivoted his head to scan the clearing, the blank, cold, calculating light in his eyes…he was the predator, the killer.
The last thing I saw him do was stuff the pistol behind his back and withdraw his knife, testing the edge of the blade with his thumb, watching as Dad led me through the forest and out of sight.
15: AMBUSHED
As soon as Tai had Lola moving toward whatever hiding place he had in mind, I crept out of the clearing back toward where the one-man canoe thing was moored, the paopao. The motorboat we’d arrived in was gone, and I wondered when Filipo had been here to take it, and if he’d heard anything…
I shut that line of thinking down, hard. No time for that, no headspace for that.
I’m too big to hide, most of the time, but this forest was thick enough that I could pick my way off to the side of the inlet, where I’d be out of sight unless they knew where to look for me. Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet, which meant certain parts of the forest were still shadowed, the inlet still and dark. I found a spot where I could see the water and settled in to wait.
After fifteen minutes or so, I heard the slosh of water, saw ripples spreading ahead of a bow, and there was the motorboat, the motor pulled up, Filipo poling slowly. He was scanning the banks, I could see, looking for me. I lifted up just a little, and Filipo’s eyes paused on me, only for a split second, but long enough that I knew he’d seen me. He nodded almost imperceptibly.
There were three men in the boat with him, each carrying a subcompact machine gun, UMP-45s, it looked like, plus side arms.
This made things tricky. Three men, all more heavily armed than me, with Filipo’s life in the balance. Not a situation where I could just start shooting and hope for the best.
I waited until Filipo had run the boat aground, stayed put as the three men jumped out first, fanning out to cover the area, scanning for immediate threats; they knew I was here. When they were confident the area was clear, one of them gestured for Filipo.
“Where are they?” he demanded.
Filipo shrugged, gestured toward where the camp was. “That way, I guess. They probably heard us coming, so they could be anywhere. Told you, I bring you here, but I can’t make them stand still for you.”
The man who’d spoken jabbed the barrel of his subcompact into Filipo’s chest. “You better hope we find them, or I kill you.”
Filipo must have had balls of steel, because he just laughed. “Go ahead. You won’t never find your way out. You be croc and gator bait in a few days. That’s if that big scary alelo don’t get you first. You be gator bait sooner, he find you.”
“Where?” This was snarled, with another vicious jab of the gun barrel.
“Ufa!” Filipo said through gritted teeth, and staggered backward under the blow, rubbing his chest. He gestured at the narrow path through the forest. “That way, susu poki. Best I can help you, even if you hit me.”
Two of them flitted down the path and disappeared, guns raised, creeping slowly. These guys had training, judging by the way they held their subcompacts and crouched, one watching the front, the other covering the rear. The third stayed behind, keeping Filipo covered, so he wouldn’t make off with the boat and their only way out of here, I guessed.
Time to make a move.
There was a stick underfoot, which I tossed into the water. At the splash, the guard pivoted toward the sound, ducking into a crouch, leveling his machine gun with both hands, leaving Filipo behind.
I crept as quietly as I could out of cover and, considering my size and bulk, I tend to surprise people by how silent I can be if needed. It just requires intense focus and care, each step measured and slow. Maddening, when time is of the essence. As now, with the guard watching the water, expecting an assault, probably.
Sure, I know, it’s the oldest trick in the book to toss a stick to distract the guard left behind, but there’s a reason it’s a common trope in books and movies: it really does work. The guy left behind is always on high alert, especially if left behind with a prisoner, and he’ll be even more on edge if he knows a deadly threat is out there.
Like me, in that moment.
I crept across the forest floor, knife out, making my way up behind the guard. Filipo caught my movement out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw me he grinned. I flattened my hand and pressed my palm toward the ground, a gesture that Filipo, being ex-military, recognized as a command to hit the deck. He did, and with alacrity, flattening himself beside the dugout canoe, where there was less of a chance for a stray round to hit him. The
old guy was no dummy.
I made it to within six feet of the guard when he dismissed the noise as incidental, probably thinking it was an animal or something. He pivoted, blowing my plan to take him out silently. As soon as he saw me, he squeezed off a four-round blast, which, if I weren’t as good as I was, would’ve ripped me open stem to stern. As it was, I barely managed to leap to the side as soon as I saw him move. The bullets snapped past me, and then I was lunging forward, blade held hammer-fisted, cutting edge up, jabbing for his gut. No finesse, no technique, just intent to hurt as much as possible as fast as possible. The blade went in, I retracted, plunged it in again, pivoted to the side and dragged the blade along his inside wrist, severing the tendons and immediately compromising his grip on the machine gun. He dropped it, staggering backward, clutching his gut, and I struck again, another upward strike, this one angled to go up under his ribcage to hit his heart. I hit my target, and he blinked twice, gasping, and fell to the ground. He’d be dead in a few seconds. I scooped up his UMP, searched him for extra magazines, and stuffed them in my back pocket.
I glanced at Filipo. “Get out of here.”
He rose to his feet, squinting at me derisively. “Kissi la’u muli, kefe. That’s my best friend and goddaughter out there.” He went to his boat, reached under the seat by the outboard, and ripped free a sawed-off shotgun he had taped underneath the seat. “Never had a good chance to go for it.”
“These guys are no joke,” I warned.
“Good thing I ain’t playin’ then, yeah?” He jerked his head at the path. “They heard that, I figure. Best get off the path.”
I hesitated. “How’d they find you?”
Filipo shrugged. “That Jeep you left, all slick and new. Found that, somehow. Kicked in my door, early. Ain’t no fool, so I played along, hoping you might find some way of making the odds more even, know what I mean?”
Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 Page 21
