by Becky McGraw
“Huddle!” Keegan growled as he hooked his arms through Lawrence and Wilson’s arms to drag them away. After an eye roll, Garrison followed them to a far corner of the boarding area, which was the only vacant space in the large room.
“For a man about to embark on a cruise, that boy is wrapped entirely too tight,” Louise said after they left. “He needs to learn to relax a little.”
“You think he’s going to relax on this ship?” Bob asked her, then looked at Jules and a smile eased up the corners of his mouth. “Well, maybe he will a little.”
“This is a big deal, Uncle Bob. He’s just worried and I am too. Something is—” She looked around her and stopped there. “We need to keep our eyes and ears open and be focused.”
Right then, Jules sobered as she remembered why they were standing in line with two thousand other people to board this ship. There were bogies on this passenger list who possibly intended to do people harm, and they were here to find them before that happened.
The four men rejoined them in a much more somber mood and started doing what Jules was doing—looking at every passenger in the holding area to see if she could spot anyone who looked like a potential suspect. Wilson peeled off from the group to do his own thing.
By the time she reached the conveyor belt to put her carry-on bag through X-ray, Jules insides felt like ants were crawling under her skin. Her nerves were at the snapping point as she avoided eye contact with the man standing beside the machine to walk on shaky legs to the other end of the belt and wait for her bag.
Keegan, on the other hand, stopped to shoot the shit with the man, who evidently was ex-Navy, as Wilson, Lawrence, and Garrison put their bags on the belt and quietly came to stand beside her. Once they’d all grabbed their bags, Keegan shook the man’s hand and grabbed his own off the belt. Louise and Bob came through behind them and Jules finally breathed again.
“It will be an hour or so before we can go to our suite,” Keegan announced, dropping his arm over her shoulders again. “Let’s go up on deck and have a drink.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Garrison replied, walking in front of them to the elevator to push the button.
“I definitely need one to calm my nerves about lying to my wife,” Lawrence said with a groan. “I’m telling you guys, if you ever tell Lisa I’m on this cruise with you, I will kill you in your sleep. I’m wheels up on a training mission, understand?”
“Misery loves company, so I might tell her. You’ll be as divorced as I am, and not so critical of me wanting to drink,” Garrison said with a wink.
“Knock it off,” Wilson said, his face serious when he returned to the group twenty minutes later. “I’ve spotted a few possible tangos we need to check out up on deck, so don’t be too quick to get mellow.”
“Who?” Keegan asked, his smile fading again.
“Sent you photos on your phones. I’m profiling, but I really don’t give a damn,” he replied. “Download them before we leave port, or will we have WiFi onboard?”
“We’ll have a limited package in the suite,” Keegan replied.
“We have a suite?” Wilson asked with a whistle, his face softening. He looked at Mike and grinned. “Ooh, you’re in big trouble if Lisa finds that out, Lawrence. She will have your ass drawn and quartered.” He puffed out his chest, and smiled. “I’ll never have to feel guilty, because I’m staying single forever.”
The door opened and Lawrence shoved Wilson inside, then the rest of their group piled in. Jules was sandwiched in the middle, between Keegan and Garrison. Sliding her arms around his waist, she laid her head on his chest and sighed as he rested his hand on her ass. The gesture felt too right to her.
“We’ll wait for the next car. There’s entirely too much meathead in this elevator,” Bob said, stepping back out and giving them the finger as the door slid shut.
God she loved that gruff old man. He was about as real as you could get and what you saw was exactly what you got with him. Just the kind of man Jules had always wanted for herself.
As the doors swept shut, Wilson moved to lean on the wall and Jules heart stopped when the man who’d been with Ari at the bar walked up to stand behind Bob.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Keegan watched the numbers overhead until they reached the Lido deck and the doors swooshed open. He took Jules’ arm and headed for the bar, but she pulled him to the side, in the empty space under the stairway that led up to the sun deck.
“I just saw Abdel,” she whispered, and Keegan’s insides clenched.
“Where?” he asked, leaning back out to scan the deck.
“Not here—behind Bob when he got back out of the elevator. I saw him just as the doors closed,” she said, her voice trembling.
Keegan moved to block her from view. “Did he see you?”
“No, he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at the woman with him. There was another middle-eastern man with him too, or at least I think he was with them,” she replied.
Thank goodness they were still docked, Keegan thought, as he pulled out his phone to text Bob. Follow the Arab men and woman in the elevator with you. Tangos.
Shit, we just got off on Lido. They went up.
“Stay here,” Keegan said, before he walked outside of the stairwell to shade his eyes and look up to see what was above the main deck. His eyes snagged on a sun deck just outside of the bridge which was probably for VIP guests. That would be the perfect place to have both a bird’s-eye view of the Lido deck and the crew on the bridge.
He would bet that was where they were headed.
Since he had booked the best suite on the ship, he would also bet they could get passes up to that sundeck, too. The problem was he knew he and Jules would be recognized. Bob and Louise had a suite as well, so they could probably go up there and observe.
He moved back into the shade to text Bob.
Go to the guest services desk and get passes to the VIP deck outside of the bridge. I think that’s where they’re going. Listen in and get a photo of them if you can.
Roger that—but we are getting a drink first!
He pocketed his phone then walked back under the stairwell. “Put your sunglasses back on,” he said, pulling his own out of his pocket to put them on. She unzipped her bag, dug inside, and then slid them on.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he grabbed her hand and dragged her back on deck.
“We’re going to sit out here and see who shows up on that sun deck up by the bridge. After the muster drill, we’re going see if the shops are open, because we both need disguises now.”
And like it or not, you need to stay in the room more often than not. He would make sure that someone was in there with her at all times. This is the man who’d tried to kill her at the bar, and Keegan didn’t doubt he’d try again if he saw her. It would be very easy to do once they were at sea, so from here on out, she would not be out of his sight.
As soon as they finished the safety drill, Keegan led Jules to the bar and asked the bartender on which deck he could find the shops. Instead of taking the elevator where they might be seen, because passengers were now going to their rooms, he zigzagged through hallways until he found the stairwell at the back of the ship.
“After that trek, we have to go down four flights of stairs?” she asked when he took the first step. “Why can’t we just take the elevator?”
“You want to be trapped in an elevator with Abdel?” he asked, shaking his head.
“No, I guess you’re right,” she replied, her lips pinched as she followed behind him as he practically ran down the stairs. When they reached the landing on the fourth flight, she stopped to catch her breath. “Remind me to wear tennis shoes tomorrow, okay?”
“You need to do more cardio, Natasha,” he said with a grin. “Naked and in heels. And I get to watch.” He waggled his eyebrows and she slugged him in the arm.
“Only if you do it first,” she said, sliding off her heels to dangle them from her fingers. “Th
ese things are torture devices invented by men because they don’t have to wear them.”
“You’re probably right,” he agreed, his grin inching up. “Because we like to watch the amazing things they do for your ass.”
“My ass looks amazing even without them, thank you.” She breezed past him, putting some extra action in the backfield. His eyes locked on the hem of her short, swingy, floral-print dress and his tongue flapped out.
“Yes, it does,” he mumbled as he followed her.
At the end of the hall, they took a left down the wide corridor and walked along a row of very expensive looking shops. They passed a salon and she stopped to peer inside.
“I could always get my hair cut and colored,” she suggested, looking up at him. “Wearing those extensions your aunt gave me last night kind of gave me the fever to do something different.”
“No—we’ll just get a hat and scarf,” he growled, reaching out to run the long silky blonde strands through his fingers. That hot silk felt incredible against his skin when she had him in her sassy, wet mouth last night. He went rock-hard as he dropped her hair and stepped back.
Jesus, was sex with her all he could think about now?
“Let’s see if they have something temporary,” she said, lifting a brow as she walked inside, even after what he’d said.
Two hours later, he walked out of the salon with a redhead and enough pent-up drive to nail her into the wooden floor beneath his feet. Keegan only thought she was sexy as a blonde. If she wanted to not attract attention, auburn was not the color choice he’d have suggested. Her blue eyes jumped out of her face now and the ends of the chin length bob pointed directly to her mouth, which made him want to slam her against the wall and kiss her.
Instead, he followed her to the last clothing store on the row, which, from the sari-wrapped mannequin in the window, appeared to offer standard cruise fare inside. His mind conjured images of him removing that vibrant yellow, orange and green dress with the exotic parrot print that only wrapped around her delicious body and knotted at her shoulder.
It would be like opening the best birthday present he’d ever gotten. Before they left the store he was going to buy her that dress, he thought walking inside behind her.
Maybe not—they were trying to blend in, he reminded himself, as he strode to the back where the hats were located. Jules went to the other side of the store, leaving him to choose a hat for her. He grabbed a couple of ball caps for himself then turned around to look at the ladies’ section and chose a huge, floppy straw-colored hat with a bright pink ribbon.
When he turned around to show it to her, his eyes ping-ponged around, but he couldn’t find her. He dropped the hats and frantically searched around the circular racks but she was not inside the store. His insides clenched and his blood turned to ice in his veins as he strode out in the corridor to look up and down for her.
A rush of fear paralyzed him as he couldn’t decide whether to go left or right. A waterfall of relief, which quickly turned to anger, rushed through him when a flash of red caught his attention in the swimsuit shop across the hall. The floor rumbled, then moved under his feet as he walked toward the shop.
They were underway, trapped for ten days with a terrorist on board. His stomach knotted as he second guessed his decision to come on this trip. He had a very bad feeling since they boarded—one he hadn’t had since he left the teams. They were about to be caught up in a goat fuck of epic proportions, but it was too late to do anything about it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Can’t I go out on deck?” Jules asked for the hundredth time, this time from the sliding glass door that led out to their private balcony. “The hot tub is nice, but it’s hot out here and I’d really like to get into the pool. We didn’t even get off the ship in Bermuda. Are we getting off in Tortola like we planned?”
“No, we’re not. Everything we need is right in here. I’ll take you surfing in Virginia Beach when we get home,” Keegan replied, frantically texting Greg Lambert the photos the guys had gathered. “This suite is intended for us not to have to leave until we dock. If you need something, just call room service.”
“We could’ve stayed holed up in my room at home, MacDonald. We’re here to find a terrorist and we’re not doing that by staying cooped up in here.”
Do not look at her Keegan—she’s changed into that swimsuit again.
“Bob and Louise have been watching Abdel up on the sun deck and the guys are following him and his cohorts wherever they go.” But that was useless, since none of them spoke Arabic, which the men had kept to in all conversations.
Keegan had asked the Commander if he could have a linguist join them at one of the ports, but, so far, he hadn’t found one. Greg Lambert was fully on board with giving them what they needed after he verified the man in the photo Bob snapped was Abdel Nour.
Since they were in international waters and would be until they returned to Baltimore, however, he couldn’t be arrested. They were just supposed to watch him closely and take him into custody when they got back to Baltimore. Lambert said he still wasn’t sold on the terrorist threat, and honestly, neither was Keegan yet.
Would Abdel be on a boat he planned on hijacking or destroying?
No, he would not. Nour was the mastermind of all the evil carried out by his organization. He had underlings and jihadists to do the dirty work for him, which could possibly be the roles of the other men on board with him. Keegan wouldn’t know that for sure until Greg provided ID from the photos.
“Well, if you decide you want to rub oil on my back for me, I’ll just be out here,” she said in a petulant tone as he heard the door roll open, but he didn’t dare look. Jules Lawson was determined to torture and distract him and it was working.
They would be in Tortola in the morning, and he really wanted to take her surfing as he promised, but he wasn’t sure they should disembark there, either. Taking the chance that Abdel would recognize her just wasn’t worth it.
You paid ten thousand dollars for a fucking vacation and you need to have one.
Yes, he did, he thought, throwing his phone on the coffee table with a disgusted grunt. If four Navy SEALs and a retired Ranger couldn’t protect her, who could? In fact, he was going to get Jules right now and they were going up on deck. Keegan stood, but groaned when his phone dinged. He picked it up again and quickly opened the text.
Abbad Salam, Al Qaeda lieutenant, female is Irshal, his wife. Second and third man unknown. Linguist will join you on Tortola. Arranged cover for her with cruise line admin and she will contact you once onboard.
Thank God for that, but the confirmation those men were radicals only made the band of tension around his chest tighter. Adding that to what Jules overheard, and that those men were gathered on this ship, it was obvious they weren’t here for a vacation. But until the interpreter joined them, they wouldn’t know what they were plotting.
All he could do was watch and wait now. And stop hiding in his freaking cabin when he was on a luxury vacation with a beautiful woman.
Keegan walked to the slider, opened it with purpose and spotted Jules sunning herself and reading on a chaise at the end of the long balcony. He strode to the chair, and snatched the magazine from her hand. She pushed her floppy hat back and he could feel her glare at him through her sunglasses.
“What? Are you taking my magazine too, Boris? Am I in time out or something?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “No, Natasha, you are going up on that deck with me and we are going swimming, if that bikini doesn’t start a riot.”
She harrumphed, and traced the indention at the bottom of his throat with a finger. “I didn’t even think you noticed.”
“Baby, I noticed. Every. Damned. Thing. About. You. Even when I don’t want to.”
He snatched the hat from her head, gripped the back of her head with his other hand and pulled her mouth to his. She sighed into his mouth, wound her arms around his neck and her nipples hard
ened against his chest.
Keegan dropped her hat to grip her ass and pull her flush to his painful erection. When she ground her hips against him and mewled into his mouth, he knew they wouldn’t be making it to the pool deck any time soon.
He dragged his mouth from hers, then bent and swept her up in his arms. After two steps toward nirvana, he stopped when his phone dinged again like a freaking cash register.
“Not looking,” he said when he met her frustrated eyes. Her wide smile lit up his insides as he carried her inside and walked directly toward their posh bedroom.
The front door of the suite beeped, which meant someone was crashing their party. Why in the hell had he invited them to come with him? Because you need their help. With a sigh, Keegan eased Jules to her feet and turned as Lawrence rushed inside.
“Bob saw a money transfer. Isn’t that part of what Jules overheard?” he asked, striding over to them.
“Yes, it is,” Jules replied in a tight voice.
“How does he know it was a money transfer?” Keegan asked.
“Abdel met some guy, a Latin man he hadn’t met with before, up on the sun deck. He dropped a pretty large duffle on the ground beside his chair. They had drinks and he left without it. The other guy picked it up and walked away with it.”
“Did Bob get a photo of the Latin guy?” Keegan asked.
“Said he couldn’t because they would’ve noticed. They sat too close to him and Louise. But they spoke in English, so he heard what they said. Something is being loaded on the ship at one of our stops before getting back to Baltimore.”
“That’s what I heard Ari and Abdel talking about at the bar,” Jules confirmed in a shaky voice. “What I suspected has to be true, then. I wonder which port?”
Tortola. Dominican Republic. Which would it be? Or had it already been loaded on the ship in Bermuda? Fuck, they should’ve gotten off the ship in Bermuda.
But surely Abdel’s partner would’ve wanted the money up front—before the goods or services were rendered—whatever they were. These were criminals, terrorists, and thugs they were talking about, so trust wasn’t part of the equation. That meant most likely the package hadn’t been loaded on the ship yet.
