Saving Zola (Sleeper SEALs Book 4)

by Becca Jameson

It would kill her to leave her passion.

  It would kill him to quit his work with the FBI.

  Vacation was amazing. But life would creep back in to take over, and then what?

  “Enough air,” he said. “Let’s go back inside.” He grabbed her hand and tugged.

  She shook off the melancholy and followed him. His ass… Damn… Even in jeans it was fine. But naked… The thought of getting those jeans off him again…

  She shuddered as he dragged her down the edge of the water back toward the house he had rented. She hoped one day she would get to meet the man he spoke to often. Tex. John Keegan. Obviously, they were close, even though Mike had never met the man in person either.

  As they burst through the back door, laughing and peeling off layers, Mike’s cell phone rang in his pocket.

  He pulled it out and took the call, his face still pink from the cold air and smiling broadly from their banter and the excitement of their next inevitable activity.

  She tore off her gloves and dropped them on the table, turning to face him.

  His expression had switched in a heartbeat, going from warm and happy to grim and concerned. His brow furrowed, and his lips fell. “Tex. Slow down. What the hell?”

  She stopped removing layers and wrapped her arms around his middle, tipping her face up to meet his gaze. Her heart beat faster. Adrenaline replaced arousal.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” He rubbed his forehead, refusing to meet her gaze.

  That was the worst part of all. His eyes wandered around the room, never landing on hers. Though his arm snaked around her to hold her close, he still didn’t look at her.

  “Right… Yes… Okay… Fuck… No… Motherfucking… Okay.” On that last word, his voice dropped and he set the phone on the counter behind him.

  For long moments, she waited, no sound in the room except their breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Loud. In sync.

  She knew as soon as one of them spoke, the world as they knew it was over.

  Finally, Mike inhaled deeply, blew out the breath even longer, and lowered his gaze to hers. “Fucking Johanssons are still after you.”

  “What?” she screamed.

  He lowered his face to hers, grabbed her chin, and held her so that she had to look at him. “We’ll get these assholes. I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I will make you safe.”

  “But why? I thought…” Her mind wandered through so many thoughts. Weren’t the Johanssons in cahoots with the four men who took her and her father hostage? They were all dead. The Johanssons had been taken in for questioning. It had been so obvious to Zola, and to Mike, that they were guilty of conspiring to get revenge. Surely they were behind bars?

  “They were released last night. Apparently my contact at the CIA either didn’t know or failed to fill us in, but they got out on bond and are back at home as if they had never been arrested.”

  “You’re shitting me?” How was that possible? Who the fuck was on that case? If she had been the attorney assigned to those idiots…

  “I wish I was. But no. And Tex just happened to catch wind of their movement.”

  “How?” she interrupted.

  Mike grinned. “Tex is a genius. With a computer, he is a God. He had their movement flagged and knew before any of us they were out on bond and wreaking havoc once again.”

  “And he thinks I’m in danger?” She fought the chill, holding Mike tighter.

  “Worse than that. He knows you’re in danger. He watched every message they sent since their release and every communication they’ve had. The group of terrorists who held you hostage at your father’s house weren’t nearly as closely involved with the Johanssons as we thought. They had bigger fish to fry. They wanted the release of multiple terrorists. Mohammad Johansson was just one of a long list of terrorists. But the Johanssons aren’t satisfied since you haven’t paid for your part in getting their son put away, so they hired someone else to finish the job. We need to get out of here. Now.”

  That was the last thing he said before a loud noise filled the air and her world flipped upside down.

  Mike flattened her to the floor so fast he knocked the wind out of her. His body covered hers entirely. Her ears were ringing from the explosion. And the gorgeous sunny day was suddenly a cloud of darkness. Smoke filled the room.

  Mike set his lips on her ear. “Don’t make a sound. Stay low.”

  She couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to. Or maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe she would have started screaming, and that was what he was trying to avoid.

  He eased himself to one side of her body, taking the pressure off while he reached with one hand to the small of his back where she knew he kept a gun.

  She fought the need to cough in the smoke-filled room, covering her mouth with her hand. All she could think about was how much damage the house had endured. It wasn’t their house. It belonged to Mike’s good friend. And because of them, it was in shambles.

  Rationally, she knew she should be more worried about her life and Mike’s, but her mind shut that down in favor of concern for the destruction of property. Guilt ate at her.

  Suddenly she realized Mike was talking to her. “Zola, babe. Zola?” He was whispering next to her ear, but urgently.

  She yanked her eyes open and blinked at him.

  “We need to move.”

  Move? Where? She couldn’t focus. Her mind was scrambled.

  He eased a hand under her lower back and tugged her up against him as he rose enough to lean her against the kitchen island, her butt on the floor, her feet stretched out in front of her. He cupped her chin. “Zola? Look at me.”

  She forced herself to focus on him, blinking. He was blurry. Or it was cloudy in the room. Or she was about to faint. Was there smoke? She didn’t know what.

  He spoke again, sounding far away. “Babe—” Gunfire cut him off.

  Zola started to scream.

  Mike slammed a hand over her mouth and leaned forward to cover her body with his more completely. He pushed her head down and twisted his body around, holding his gun up.

  Drywall rained down around her, landing in her hair and all over their clothes.

  “Come on.” He grabbed her wrist and dashed across the kitchen in a crotched position, dragging her along behind him at a crawl.

  At least no one was shooting at them for a few seconds. She had no idea what direction the shots had come from. When they reached the pantry, Mike opened the door slowly and ushered her inside.

  Panic made her draw back, tugging on his wrist. “No,” she insisted. The idea of being trapped inside a small closet seemed horrifying.

  He ignored her, reached to the back of the pantry, and pulled open a small door she had never seen at ground level. “Safe room. Get inside. I’ll lock it from out here. Don’t open it for anyone. It’s on a code. No one else can get in. Tex knows the code. Either I will open this door, or he will send someone else.”

  Her panic grew at the idea of separating from him. “No.” She shook her head. “Unless you’re coming in with me.” How had she not known about the safe room?

  He eased her smaller body closer, kissed her forehead, and then nudged her toward the entrance. “There’s a door on the other side too. It leads to the master bedroom closet.” He reached in and pulled something out. A flashlight. He handed it to her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She couldn’t stop shaking her head. But it did no good. He all but pushed her through the entrance. With one last touch to her face, he met her gaze as she scrambled to turn around. “I love you.” And then the door shut with a snick, cutting off almost all sound.

  Panic like she’d never known set in as she turned on the flashlight and glanced around the room. She would have been impressed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

  Tex’s safe room was stocked with everything. It wasn’t large, but it was big enough to stand up and wide enough for two people to lie on the air mattress she saw in the corner. Why did Tex have such an im
pressive safe room? Was he paranoid in general? Or did he have the sort of job that put him in danger? Probably the latter.

  With a deep exhale, she turned off the light, leaned against the wall, set her chin on her drawn-up knees, and prayed to God Mike got them out of this situation and didn’t get himself dead.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mike had no idea what he was up against, but a huge weight lifted off him after he sequestered Zola in the safe room. At least he knew nothing would happen to her in there. Tex was thorough. Though Mike hadn’t gone into the room or checked it out, Tex had told him it was there, and Mike had memorized the code. No one would get in there without knowing the six-digit code.

  Another round of shots rang out, causing Mike to lower himself to the floor and crawl toward the back door. He needed to get out of the house before anything else. The longer he was inside, the more likely he would be backed into a corner. And he had no idea how many people were shooting at him.

  What he also knew was that backup was on the way. Before he’d shoved Zola into the safe room, he had hit the panic button on the outside. Messages would have been sent to Tex and the authorities. Besides, Tex already knew the seriousness of the situation. He’d been the one to call with the warning moments before all hell broke loose.

  Mike could have gotten into the safe room with Zola, and there was always the possibility he would regret the decision not to. But he wasn’t the kind of man to cower and wait for someone to find him. Sequestering himself wasn’t really his style.

  He flattened himself to the kitchen wall next to the sliding glass doors and peered outside to see if there was movement.

  Moments later the glass door shattered, and he rounded the corner to take advantage of the protection of the cabinets. Damn motherfuckers shooting up his friend’s house. That in and of itself pissed him way the fuck off.

  Another shot came from the back of the house. No one was on the patio, so he knew by the proximity they had to be hovering in the bushes off the deck.

  He crawled to the front of the house, keeping low with his gun drawn. When he reached the front windows, he eased up the side and peeked out the edge.

  Dammit. He could see booted feet under the bushes right off the porch. These fuckers were brazen. He was pissed, but they were no match for him. They had no idea what they were up against if they were stupid enough to think they could take out a former SEAL.

  Maybe they didn’t know he was a SEAL. There was a good chance of that. Perhaps they assumed Zola was just on the run with her boyfriend or a hired protector. In either case, they were in for a surprise. A one-way ticket to the third circle of hell.

  The picture window had already been shot out, which gave him the ability to take a shot through the wide opening. In less than a few seconds, he rounded to face the fool who thought he was well-hidden, lined up the shot with the spot Mike assumed was the man’s chest, and fired.

  Bingo. The asshole fell forward through the bush and never moved another muscle. One down.

  In response, several shots rang out from the back of the house.

  Mike ducked back down to the floor and listened. He figured there were still two shooters in the back and no one currently in the front.

  He crawled toward the kitchen again, praying Zola stayed in the safe room. If he had to worry about her at the same time, his job would be that much harder.

  Silence reigned for several moments while he peered through the corner of the hole that had been the sliding glass doors and surveyed the situation. Indeed, there were two men out there, one at each corner of the deck. They were shuffling around more than they should. Amateur move. They were scared.

  Good. That would make it easier to make them also dead.

  Mike bided his time, watching, waiting, scoping. Finally, he rounded enough to take the easier shot, lined up, and took the farthest man out with a shot to the head.

  Take that, motherfucker.

  The man was dead so fast he didn’t make a single sound. It took several more seconds before his comrade knew he was down.

  Mike rolled his eyes as he ducked back around the corner.

  A delayed onslaught of gunfire coming from one gun pelted the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen.

  Mike glanced at the pantry. No movement. Good.

  When silence reigned again, Mike waited a beat and then rose to take a glance out the window above the sink. No one. The guy had moved. Hopefully he retreated.

  Where the fuck were the authorities? How long had it been? He stayed low as he made his way back to the front of the house, thinking the man may have rounded the house.

  As soon as he rose to peer out the space where the picture window belonged, a noise behind him caught his attention. He spun around to find a man dressed in all black behind him, the barrel of his gun pointed directly at Mike.

  Fuck.

  “Not interested in you, asshole. Want the woman. Where is she?”

  Mike eased around to face the man more fully. Five yards separated them. Who the hell was shooting outside? “What woman?”

  The guy chuckled for half a second. “Don’t go there, fucker. I’m not stupid.”

  Mike begged to differ. He said nothing. Eventually the guy would give him an out. It was just a matter of time.

  “Where is she?” the man shouted louder, shaking his gun erratically. So he wasn’t professional. Not by a long shot.

  Mike glanced toward the back. “Ran out the door a long time ago. Long gone. Nice try though.” He knew he was being antagonistic. He didn’t care. The more flustered this asshole got, the easier it would be to take him out.

  “You think I’m stupid?”

  Well, yes.

  “She’s in this damn house. Where is she hiding?”

  Mike took in the hired man’s body language as he shuffled uncomfortably. After all, the guy had lost two other men outside. Were they friends?

  Mike nodded toward the hall. “Bathroom. She had to pee?”

  The man narrowed his gaze. “Get on the floor. Drop your gun. Hands where I can see them.” He wasn’t going to shoot Mike. At least he somehow recognized he needed Mike’s help to get to Zola.

  Mike lowered his gun slowly as the masked man glanced around. His hand shook violently. Any second now, Mike would take a shot. No way was he going to set his gun down. Fat chance. “She’s not here, man. You can see that.”

  The man took a quick step closer to Mike, his hand jerking so the gun waved in Mike’s face. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not an idiot. Now tell me where she is.”

  Mike didn’t have a good shot. He couldn’t risk lifting his arm to take the guy out with him waving his gun around so erratically.

  Suddenly, a shot rang out from Mike’s left, and the man in front of him faltered, swaying to the side.

  That was all it took for Mike to lift his gun and fire a second shot. Right to the man’s forehead. He went down hard.

  Mike jerked his gaze toward the kitchen, expecting to find a police officer or a member of SWAT. Instead, he found Zola on her knees, holding a gun, her hands shaking. She hadn’t lowered it yet.

  Mike scrambled forward, coming up to her side and then slowly removing the gun from her hand—an amazingly nice Sig Sauer. “You were supposed to stay in the safe room.”

  She jerked her gaze to his, frowning. “You were about to get killed.”

  “No one was going to kill me.”

  She lifted one brow. “Really? From where I was sitting, you were defenseless and he had his gun aimed at you.” She jerked her gaze to the dead man. “I shot him,” she said somberly. It seemed she just now figured that out.

  Mike knew how hard it had been for her. She’d never shot a gun in her life, and she’d found herself forced to shoot a human.

  “If it makes you feel any better, your shot wasn’t fatal. I finished him off.”

  She nodded, but her gaze was still on the dead guy.

  “Where did you get the gun?” He lifted it to see that i
t was not the average civilian piece.

  “From the safe room.” She lifted her gaze. “I’m going to have nightmares.”

  She was also going to get a lecture later about coming out of the safe room, but for the moment, Mike simply wrapped her in one arm and kissed the top of her head as sirens approached.

  She swatted at him. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

  He fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth while he pulled her face into his neck. “Can’t promise that. Unless you find a way to cut down on the number of enemies you have.”

  She batted at him again with both hands. “You scared me to death. I didn’t know if you were dead or alive out here.”

  “I’m a pretty good shot. Told you that. Those guys didn’t stand a chance.” He tucked her face toward his chest, pulled them to standing, and led her to the front porch.

  “Tex’s house,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Hope he has good insurance.”

  She swatted him again.

  * * *

  It was late when Mike finally lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed where Zola was already sprawled out. Another hotel room. Another city. At this rate they would wake up confused every day of their lives. He’d left the light on in the bathroom with the door ajar just to keep them from fumbling around in the night.

  “You okay?” she asked, pushing to sitting and leaning over him. She set her chin on his shoulder. Her hair was still damp from a shower, the curls falling in gorgeous ringlets around her face and down his arm.

  Ten thousand things raced through his mind, but he needed to get one thing off his chest before it consumed him. “You scared the hell out of me today.”

  “How?” She lifted her chin.

  “I told you to stay in the safe room. You could have been killed.”

  She groaned. “Seriously, Mike? That’s so over-the-top macho of you. A terrorist was holding a gun to your head. Was I supposed to watch you get shot?”

  He spun to face her, grabbing her biceps, frowning. “You wouldn’t have even known he was there if you had stayed in the safe room.”

  Her voice rose. “Are you listening to yourself? You were almost killed.”