by Ronie Kendig
“Leave him.”
At Max’s order, Legend eased back, a hand still clamped on Canyon’s wrist and one on his shoulder. Finally, the big guy released him.
Canyon flipped around, shoulders supporting him as he wobbled and let out a half groan/cry. “Roark was terrified. Terrified this would happen.” His face reddened. “She trusted us. Trusted me.”
Something streaked down his face. The storm, the fury that one of Max’s own had been doping, subsided when he realized those were tears trekking down his cheeks.
Canyon batted the tears—looked at his hand, then … slumped. Slowly his brow smoothed out, his eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened as if he’d remembered something. “Oh God … please, no.” He slid down the wall and cradled his head in his heads. And sobbed.
That noise grabbed Max’s chest in a fist hold. Unable to watch Midas fall apart, Max strode from the room with the others. Something happened at the end of that confrontation. Something that made Canyon lose hope. Outside, he stopped short. The door closed behind him.
“What happened, at the end?” he asked over his shoulder to Cowboy and Legend.
“No idea, man.” Legend huffed.
“But it was bad.” Leaning against the wall, Cowboy shook his head. “I’ve never seen Midas rattled like that.”
“We have to go back,” the Kid came toward them. “Find the girl.”
Max snapped his attention to the Kid. “Not till we hear from the Old Man.”
The Kid balked. “That’s some kind of messed up. You saw him—”
With a sudden move toward the Kid, Max commanded the guy’s silence. “I know what I saw!” This was the old Max. The one that hit first, regretted later.
“This is bunk.” The Kid spun and stomped off. Halfway down the hall, he turned and walked backward. “No man left behind. We broke the code, ya know?” He pivoted and continued, the darkness swallowing him.
“He’s right.” Cowboy’s tone was somber, defeated. “I can’t live with this.”
“None of us can,” Legend added. “But we have no supplies, Squirt’s laid up in recovery, and we don’t have a way to get back down there.”
“Lambert is out of contact.” Max’s jaw muscle popped. “Even if we managed to get hold of the Old Man, it’s a no-fly zone right now. We’d get shot down.”
“Excuse me.” Straightening, Aladdin uncrossed his arms. He considered each of them for what felt like an eternity. “Not too long ago, you men hammered me with words about being a team, being there for each other.”
Legend seemed to grow several inches in height and around his chest.
“So, would someone like to explain to me why you’re all whining and complaining when a woman—granted, she’s not technically part of the team, but we were all responsible for her and one of our own is in love with her—is being left behind?” Aladdin met each man’s gaze. “Tell me, where’s this team spirit all of you crammed down my throat?”
Legend smoothed a hand over his bald head. “He’s right, and it pains me to admit that, know what I’m saying?”
Max sighed. “I’ll try the Old Man again.”
Naval Base, Cuba 15 May
Metal creaking pried open his eyes. The room, tilted on its side, glowed under the light of a single bulb. Canyon groaned as he pushed himself off the floor. Pain of the excruciating kind wormed through his limbs and gut. Head throbbing, he glanced around. Alone.
It should be his penance for the rest of his life because despite vehement promises, he’d left Roark. Where was she now? Had Bruzon returned to—?
Growling, Canyon flung his hand out and hit the leg of the bed. They’d held him here for days. To detox him! Wasted precious time—that could have, should have, been spent finding Roark—to address something that could wait a week. A month. Years. The rest of his life. Medicating helped him get through things.
Okay, so it wasn’t right. But he’d faced reality enough to know he didn’t want to again.
Tough. He had to face the fact that Roark would hate him forever.
She’d trusted him. Implicitly.
He’d failed her. Completely.
He would make it right, no matter what.
And he’d start right now. Escape this place, find a way back to the facility, get her out of there, and spend from here to eternity apologizing and making it up to her.
On his feet, he propped himself against the wall. Being vertical increased the throb in his skull. Good. Squinting past the pain, he looked at the door. Get out. Get Roark. Get home. Peeling himself off the wall, he gritted his teeth. Ten paces to the threshold. Canyon turned the knob. Maybe the other way would work. He tried. No-go.
He stood back and traced the frame. Locked? Why would they lock him in?
They knew I’d escape.
Well, he wasn’t giving up. Not till he was dead. Roark needed him. And he wouldn’t let a locked door stop him. He turned around and spotted the window on the opposite wall. He grinned and stumbled over to it, his mind vowing the thing was probably welded shut.
Squeak!
The window pushed out.
Too easy. After another glance at the door, he hauled himself up through the window. On the ledge, he hesitated. At least a ten-foot drop. He’d seen enough ACL and MCL injuries to know this could hurt. A lot. But if he stayed here, Roark stayed there.
With a grunt, he leapt from the window.
Canyon landed, feet together, knees bent, rolled out of it, and came up jogging. Though his body screamed for the bed he’d just left, his heart and mind screamed for Roark. How he’d get anywhere, he wasn’t sure. Unless he suddenly acquired chopper- or airplane-flying skills, he would have to take a pilot hostage. Not cool.
Still, he aimed for the row of hangars at the far end of the base. Halfway across, sweat poured down his back. His legs slurred—wait, could they do that? Oh man. His mind was whacked. So maybe his body hadn’t quite recovered from the torture and detox.
Light spilled out from only one of the buildings.
As he sneaked up to the bay doors, he hesitated. No weapon. No means. Ruled out bargaining with the pilot. Or what if it was a mechanic in there banging around?
He took a step—
A man emerged and gave a shout.
Canyon clapped a hand over his mouth and leaned down to whisper in the guy’s ear. “Quiet.”
Hands lifted. A muffled “Hey, it’s me” slipped past his hold.
The man’s face registered. “Kid.” He blinked and released him. “What’re you doing here?” Canyon braced himself against a barrel by the door.
Shorter than him by a head, the Kid made up for it in gumption. A cocky grin split the big mouth. “’Bout time you got here. I started wondering if I’d have to drag you out of there.”
“What?”
“You’re going after your girl, right?”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Riiight.” The Kid laughed, then grew serious. “Who do you think left your door unlocked?”
“The door was locked.”
“Oh. Sorry. I—they told me it was locked, so I thought I unlocked it.” The Kid scowled up at Canyon. “Then how’d you get out?”
Canyon shoved past him and admired the Black Hawk sitting outside the hangar. Fast enough but also loud. If he could jump out—not entirely the best maneuver, but it would work. Without a pilot, it didn’t matter.
“This baby’ll get you there. Can’t promise about getting back though.”
“Is the pilot around?”
Indignation crawled over the Kid’s face. “Who do you think you’re looking at?”
“Seriously?” Canyon patted the Kid’s shoulder. “Can you get me to the facility?”
“Facility?” The Kid stretched his jaw as the warm May air tussled his dark hair. “Nah, man. You want the dude’s estate. He’s having a big meeting there with a bunch of dignitaries.”
Staring at the stark black hull, he envisioned it. Roark would be Bruzon’s t
rophy. Would he flaunt her before his guests? No … no, he couldn’t afford to do that. Canyon dragged a hand over the Black Hawk’s nose.
“How’re you gonna get out?”
“We’ll get out.” He wasn’t sure how, but the biggest hurdle was finding her.
The Kid must’ve seen the shock that rolled through Canyon because he rolled his eyes and donned a helmet. “Climb in.”
In the cockpit, Canyon watched as the Kid powered up the craft. “How long have you been a pilot?”
“Long enough.”
“I didn’t know.”
He flipped a switch, then another. “There’s a lot you guys don’t know about me. All you do is throw me in water, smack my head, and laugh at me.”
“If you get me there, I’ll never laugh again.”
“Promises, promises.” The Kid shrugged as the rotors began to whine, then screech right into a full roar. “Besides, I might get booted from the team after this.”
With the copilot’s headset on, Canyon glanced at the Kid. “Then why are you doing this?”
“Why are you?”
Roark. “I keep my promises.”
“Yeah, well, me, too. I mean, it’s about honor. Leaving her there? Major uncool.” The bird vibrated beneath them. “I can’t live with myself knowing we did that, especially to her.”
Canyon clamped a hand on the Kid’s shoulder. “Thank you, Marshall.”
Green lights glared off the Kid’s eyes—eyes that shone with appreciation of the recognition Canyon had just shown. “Don’t thank me yet.” A few more switches. “We have to get off this base and not get shot down. Imagine Hamer’s going to hit the roof when he sees one of his birds taking off.”
“Then fly fast and low.”
“You got it.”
Phone pressed to his ear, Max waited as it rang. Legend, Aladdin, and Cowboy clustered around him with Squirt, who sat in a chair looking piqued. Expectation hung thick and heady. A dozen rings and still no answer. The fourth time. He shook his head to the guys and started to pull it away from his face.
“Hello?”
Tensed, Max clapped the phone to his ear again. “Hello?”
“Yes?”
At the feminine voice, he shifted away from the guys and looked down at the desk. “Who is this?”
“You call a secure line and ask that?” Age and grace coated the voice—but also … stress.
“Authenticate,” Max demanded.
“I … I can’t. I’m … I’m the better half.”
He hung up. Looked at the guys. “Something’s wrong.”
“What just happened?” Legend asked.
“It wasn’t the Old Man. A woman answered. She called herself the better half.”
“His wife?” Cowboy angled forward. “The Old Man’s wife answered?”
“What does that mean?” Legend scowled. “What’s she doing answering that phone?”
“If that is his wife,” Aladdin said, “then she would know that phone is off-limits.”
Legend’s brows rose into his forehead. “Which means she—”
“Wanted to talk to me.” Max dialed again.
The line rang.
“Oh, thank God.” She sniffled into the phone. “When you hung up—”
“I need the Old Man.”
“Who are you?”
They were playing a deadly game, but if something happened to Lambert … “Nightshade Alpha. I need to speak to the Old Man.”
“Nightshade,” she said, her voice trembling. “You know where the last mission was, correct?”
Max hesitated. They were on the last mission—Venezuela. “Yes, ma’am. Could you please put the Old Man on the line?”
“Where the last mission was—that’s where you’ll find him. That’s all I know.”
Confusion riddled Max’s brain. “Ma’am?”
A shrieking siren pierced his eardrums. Max looked around and pointed to the window as lights swirled through the night. Aladdin checked the window, then darted out of the room just as vibrations trembled through the room, drowning out what the woman said.
“Ma’am,” he shouted into the phone. “Repeat—where is the Old Man?”
“Bring him home, Nightshade.” Another sob. “Please.” The connection severed.
“What’d she say?”
“That the Old Man was where the last mission was?”
“What mission? Ours?” Legend’s deep voice growled.
Max cursed. God forgive him, but he did. Hands on the desk, he clenched his eyes.
“Frogman, what’s up?” Cowboy asked.
Sirens wailed through the night—something was wrong on the base. The air raid howling told Max this mission, which had gone horribly wrong since they’d crossed into Venezuelan airspace, had tanked. And now, they didn’t even have their resources.
“The Old Man’s gone rogue.”
Aladdin burst back into the room, eyes wide. “You’d better come.”
Max paused. Could anything else really go wrong?
“The Kid and Midas are under arrest.”
Bruzon’s Estate, Venezuela 15 May
“Get away from me, you piece of dirt!”
Taunting laughter spiraled through the humid air as Bruzon strolled across the courtyard.
Dani tugged on the wrist restraints, trying to free herself from the post. A hitching post. An old-fashioned hitching post and they’d tied her to it.
“Danielle, my pet.” Bruzon’s medals clanked as he laughed and sauntered toward her. “Why are you so violent, so filled with fire?” More laughter.
Behind him trailed a lithe woman who closed the ten-foot wood fence that separated them from the rest of his compound. He’d brought Dani to his home. And that terrified her. The facility was sterile, reeked of antiseptic. Here, the separation between the two seemed … well, she wasn’t sure what, but it just felt more … personal here.
“I’m no pet of yours,” she said in a low voice, jerking against the post. The shackle cut into her wrist but she pulled harder. Steel bit into her flesh. That paled to the way this monster bit into her soul.
“Get away from me.” She whirled around, using the anchor of the post that chained her as a counterbalance and thrust a roundhouse kick at his chest.
He drew back, surprised, but then guffawed.
A guard rushed her and slammed his rifle into her face.
Her head whipped back. Momentum carried her into the dirt.
“You are a prize!” Bruzon grabbed the lithe woman behind him and pulled her in front of himself. “You see Catalina? She was once almost as wild as you, Danielle.” He clutched the woman’s face tight, puckering her lips and cheeks. “Now look at her. Beautiful, elegant”—his hand traced down her side and hips—“tame. Obedient.” Bruzon tossed her aside, grabbed Dani by the hair.
Fire prickled at every root on her scalp as he hauled her to her feet. Swallowing the scream, she clamped a chained hand over his to stem the pain.
“You are mine, Danielle.” His breath reeked of spices and liquor. “And I will break you, too. If it takes me years.”
Holding on to his hand, she stared right into his muddy eyes—and drove her knee into his groin.
He doubled over and moaned.
She whipped back, away. The chains jerked her arms taut, forbidding escape. Again she thrashed against her bonds, frantic, desperate to get free.
To her surprise … he laughed. The sickening sound growing as he slowly rose to his full height. “Why are you not this wild in bed, Danielle?”
The fight drained out of her. No. That’s what he wanted—to capture her mind, smother her soul. “Forget it. You can’t take anything from me again.” A bald-faced lie but it felt good saying it. She shook her head, backed up till her arms were outstretched.
“Navas tells me you have taken a lover.”
Canyon. He knew about Canyon? How was that possible?
He snickered. “But I removed him from the equation.”
&
nbsp; A swarm of heat swirled through her torso. What did he mean, removed Canyon from the equation?
Another snicker. He raised his arms. “Now, you belong only to me.”
Frantic, she snapped her chained hands backward. One broke free. Stunning her. And Bruzon. Guards poured out of the shadows. Thrust her to the ground. Dani let herself laugh. If they were already failing, if they could not keep her bound … she might have hope after all.
Pinned beneath several of them, she felt the shackle reattach, then another clamped onto her arm. When the men moved aside, Dani pulled herself onto her knees and slumped against the post. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
“You stole something from me.”
The blueprints.
“And they never believed you.” He chuckled. “But you still violated my trust.”
“Trust?” she scoffed.
“And that must be repaid. The world must know that nobody can steal from me and get away with it.” The playfulness leeched out of him. He snapped his fingers. “Please, Senator, come and explain things”—a man stepped from beneath a shade tree—“to your daughter.”
Dani froze as her father stepped into the light. “Dad!”
Malice painted a wicked mural over his face.
“Dad?” Her pulse puttered to a stop as he stood there, unmoving. “Help me! Make him let me go. Tell him the U.S. will make sure he’s dead.”
Bruzon leaned toward her father and offered him a cigar. “What do you think, Mike? Should we help her?”
To her shock, her father accepted the cigar, lit it, then jeered. “She’s just like her mother.” Her father turned and stalked out of sight.
Shock pinned her to the hard earth. Just like her mother? What did that mean? “Dad!” She rushed forward, only to have her arms ripped backward. “Don’t leave me!” The rain and thunder drowned her screams. “Help me, Daddy!” She stilled, the chains clinking as she lowered her hands. And in that moment she knew …
I’m alone.
DAY SEVEN
Secure Facility, Virginia
19:15:21
