Capture of the Defiance: Romantic Suspense (Breaking Free Book 2)

by S. E. Smith

  “Mr. Lu,” Yung said, stopping Ren Lu when he started to turn.

  “Yes, sir?” Ren Lu responded.

  “Remember what happens to those who fail,” Yung stated in a cold voice.

  “Yes, Mr. Sun,” Ren Lu replied, bowing his head once again.

  Yung watched his new security chief exit his office. He sat in silence for several long minutes before he reached for his cell phone. Pushing his chair back, he rose and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling, tinted glass windows and stared across the bay. In the distance, he could see the marina in question.

  “Send for the helicopter,” he ordered his assistant on the other end.

  With a press of the button, he disconnected the call. This was one situation where he would need to be personally involved. There was too much at risk. If his clients were to discover that their identities and locations had been compromised because of him, the United States and British governments would be the least of his concerns.

  4

  Henry grumbled a curse under his breath before it changed to a grunt of satisfaction when he finally threaded the wire through the narrow opening. The blasted wire that had taken almost an hour to run only took two minutes to hook up to the back of the last light. Of course, it had been the last one, which made it even more frustrating.

  He quickly sealed the end of the wires in shrink wrap to prevent corrosion from the salt water and sealed the area around the light before tightening the stainless steel screws. With a quiet groan, he straightened and tilted his head to listen when he heard the sound of footsteps on the ceiling above him. A sigh of relief escaped him that Makayla had made it back safely and before the rain started.

  A grimace crossed his face when he realized that he would need to clean up the galley before they could stow the groceries. He bent to pick up the Philips screwdriver and extra wire. A rueful grin curved his lips and he started to turn around when he saw a shadow pass between him and the entrance to the companionway. Turning, he froze in confusion when instead of Makayla, a tall, slender man wearing black stood in the opening.

  “Hey, what are you doing on my boat?” Henry demanded in a gruff tone. “This is a private vessel.”

  The man’s face remained eerily immobile. Henry could feel his gut twist in warning. His hand automatically tightened on the screwdriver he was holding. The marina was guarded with security personnel and cameras, but that didn’t mean that crime couldn’t still happen.

  His gaze swept over the man silently watching him. There was something off about him. This wasn’t some ordinary punk looking for a few dollars. Hell, the man’s shoes alone would probably pay for his dock rental for a month. No, this man exuded power – danger – and he was here for a different reason. Henry would bet the Defiance on that.

  He drew in a deep breath and slowly raised his gaze back to the man’s face. Henry’s fingers flexed on the items he was holding. If he was going to make it out of this situation alive, something told him he needed to be smart about it.

  “I don’t have much money if that is what you are after. Kidnapping me wouldn’t even buy you another pair of those fancy shoes you’ve got on,” Henry said with a nod. “If that’s not what you’re here for, state your business.”

  “You were given an item the other day, Mr. Summerlin. It belongs to my employer. He has requested that it be returned,” the man stated, taking a step closer.

  “An item…? How the hell do you know my name? Who’s your employer?” Henry demanded in confusion before he drew in another deep breath. “Listen, I don’t know what in the hell you are talking about. I’m an American. I’m sailing around the world – period. I don’t have any item that I haven’t brought or purchased. If you’re with the police, show me your credentials, otherwise get the hell off my boat.”

  Henry’s eyes widened when he saw the shadows of two more men through the opening. He backed up, but knew he was trapped. There wasn’t much room below deck and definitely nowhere to hide, except maybe the head. The idea of locking himself in it was beginning to look very appealing.

  “I am not with the police, Mr. Summerlin,” the man stated in a cold, steely tone. “The other day in the marketplace, a man bumped into you. He gave you a package. Where is it?”

  Henry took another step backwards when the man advanced while he spoke. A confused frown creased his brow. What the hell was going on?

  “You mean the guy who got hit by the van?” Henry muttered, shaking his head. “He didn’t give me anything.”

  “He slipped something into one of the bags you were carrying. I want it back,” the man continued, taking another step closer until he was within arm’s reach of Henry. “My employer has requested your presence, Mr. Summerlin. It would go much easier for you if I were to present both you and the item that was stolen from him.”

  Henry knew it would be futile to deny that he had whatever in the hell the man was talking about. It was clear that the man planned on taking him whether he had the item or not. Swallowing, Henry could feel the fight or flight adrenaline surge through him. Since he couldn’t flee, that left fighting.

  Henry threw the wire he was holding in his left hand at the man’s face and swung out with the screwdriver in his right. The man countered and Henry grunted, a shaft of pain sucking the breath out of his lungs.

  As if in slow motion, Henry saw the man dodge the wire, bring his left hand up, and grab his wrist. He felt the bones in it snap when the man savagely twisted it at an odd angle. The pain sent him to his knees. He gasped, holding his arm against his chest and blinked back the tears of pain clouding his vision. Henry lifted his head and stared back into the man’s eyes when his attacker knelt down in front of him.

  “I am prepared to break every bone in your body if it becomes necessary, Mr. Summerlin,” the man said in a cold, calm voice. “Make no mistake, my employer is more than willing to do much worse to retrieve the information that was taken from him. If you resist again, I will break your other wrist. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Henry hissed out between clenched teeth. “But, for the record, I don’t know what the hell you are talking about, and if I had been thirty years younger, I’d be the one calling the shots.”

  The man tilted his head and studied Henry for several long seconds before a hint of a smile curved his lips. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, but it was at least a reflection of emotion which his face had been devoid of up until now. Unfortunately, it didn’t make Henry feel any better.

  “Perhaps, but you will never be thirty again,” the man finally remarked in a quiet tone before he rose to his feet and spoke in a dialect unfamiliar to Henry. “Transfer him to the boat.”

  That was the last thing Henry heard. He had started to struggle to his feet, but the man had swung back around and struck him on the side of the head with what felt like the butt of a gun. He could feel his body falling over.

  Instinctively, he cradled his broken wrist against his chest to prevent it from hitting the floor. His body rolled to the side and Henry foggily registered the trickle of warmth sliding down past his ear. He could add a head wound to his broken bone.

  Before darkness washed over him, the fleeting image of Makayla’s smiling face flashed through his mind. If there was one shining light to all of this, it was the thought that at least she wasn’t here. He could only hope that she was safe.

  5

  Makayla bent and wrapped the bike lock around the metal bars of the bike rack in the small area reserved for bikes near the market. She grabbed the canvas bags that she had brought to carry her purchases out of the front basket, pausing when she felt something in the bottom of the outside bag when she ran her hand over them to flatten them out. Reaching in, she pulled out a small, narrow box. She blinked in surprise before she deduced that Henry must have forgotten it in the bag the last time he had gone shopping.

  She slid the box into her pocketbook at her waist. After a quick check to make sure there was nothing else in any of the other bags, she gr
ipped the handles and started across the street toward the market. Her eyes lit up with delight at the wide assortment of stands and shops.

  An hour and a half later, the delight had faded and she was grimacing as she adjusted the weight of all the bags in her hands. Still, she couldn’t resist stopping to look at the beautiful assortment of straw hats. She already had several but justified her interest because on a sailboat you could never have too many hats.

  “Makayla?” A voice asked in shock behind her.

  Makayla turned in surprise, her eyes widening in astonishment. The faint image in her mind from the other night was now standing in front of her. Her lips parted and she drew in a startled gasp before her expression clouded with confusion.

  “Brian?” Makayla whispered in disbelief.

  “It is you! I thought I was dreaming,” Brian said, stepping closer.

  “I’m surprised you recognized me,” Makayla answered without thinking.

  A warm blush heated her cheeks when she saw his eyes narrow and he took a step closer to her. She started to move back a step when she saw his hand lift and he tenderly touched a strand of her long, dark brown hair that had come loose.

  “I could never forget you,” he admitted before clearing his throat and dropping his hand back to his side. “What are you doing here?”

  Makayla glanced around before raising an eyebrow. “Shopping,” she said.

  Brian chuckled and shook his head. “I should have asked ‘What are you doing in Hong Kong’,” he said with a grin.

  Makayla started to lift a hand to push the strand of hair back, but grimaced when she realized her hands were full and she couldn’t without setting them down. She started to protest when Brian reached out to take several of the bags from her, but stopped when he gave her a sharp glance.

  “These are heavy,” he said, weighing them in his hand.

  “Yes,” Makayla said, pushing the strand of hair behind her ear now that she had a free hand. “I met up with Henry. What are you doing here?”

  Brian looked surprised. He glanced around before nodding to a small café across the street. A part of Makayla wanted to grab the bags and run while another part couldn’t help but be interested in what he had been up to since she had last seen him almost three years ago.

  “Would you like to go get something to drink?” He asked.

  Makayla glanced around the market, then up at the sky. She should be getting back to the Defiance. She surprised herself when instead of shaking her head, she found herself agreeing. It didn’t help that at that moment, her stomach decided to grumble, protesting the fact that she hadn’t eaten since early this morning.

  “Does the offer come with food?” She asked with a rueful smile. “If it does, then yes.”

  Brian laughed and nodded. “The offer can definitely include food,” he promised, placing a hand on the small of her back and guiding her quickly across the street.

  Makayla stepped into the café when Brian opened the door and glanced around the crowded sitting area. Her gaze narrowed on a high top table near the front windows. She automatically moved toward it and placed the bags she was carrying under the window before shrugging off her backpack and sliding it under the table so she could slip her foot through the strap to keep it from being stolen.

  Brian followed her and placed the bags he was carrying under the window on the other side of the table before sitting down. Almost immediately, a friendly waitress who looked like she was too young to be serving appeared and asked what they would like to drink.

  “Milk Tea, please,” Makayla murmured.

  “Coffee,” Brian replied. “We’ll also take two Wonton soups, an order of Sweet and Sour pork and rice, and an order of fish balls, please. Oh, add an order of Pineapple bread, too.”

  “Thank you,” the waitress replied with a friendly smile.

  Makayla gazed across the table at Brian with a raised eyebrow. An amused smile tugged at her lips. She hoped he was hungry as well considering the order he had just placed. He grinned back at her before his smile died and a curious light came into his eyes that made her look away.

  “So, you are here with Henry? Don’t tell me that he is actually sailing around the world,” Brian said, briefly sitting back when the waitress placed their drinks down on the table in front of them.

  Makayla leaned forward and rested her arms on the table after the waitress left. She ran her fingers along the water droplets on the outside of the cup where it had spilled over the edge. Picking it up, she took a drink before she answered him.

  “Yes, he took off a little over a year ago. He’s made it about half way so far,” she replied. “I’ve joined him a few times during breaks at school.”

  “Oh, that’s good – a bit dangerous, but good,” he muttered, looking down at his coffee. “How is school going?”

  Makayla’s lips curved in a sheepish smile. “I’m working on my doctorate,” she admitted with a wry sigh. “In the field I chose, it makes the most sense and I’ve been fortunate to have some really great support from my professors.”

  Brian’s eyes lit up with pride. “I could tell you had fallen in love with the ocean after your crazy trip,” he confessed. “I’m not surprised. You have an affinity for it.”

  Makayla swallowed and nodded. Memories of her own teenage defiance flooded her. She fingered her glass, thinking about the voyage that had changed her life. She had been confused, hurting, and angry with life when she had come to live with Henry.

  “Nothing like a little teenage rebellion and frustration to make you grow up,” she acknowledged. “You have to admit it was pretty awesome as well.”

  “Awesome,” Brian laughed with a shake of his head. “I would have said something more along the lines of insane.”

  “I would do it again if it meant things working out the way they did,” Makayla murmured, staring intently at him. “There is nothing like almost dying to make you appreciate what you have, and what you could have lost.”

  Brian reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Or being stupid and throwing it away because you are too blind to realize that what you want is right in front of you,” he replied in a quiet voice.

  He released her hand and sat back when the waitress brought their food. Makayla could feel the warmth of his touch even after he had released her hand. Sitting back in her seat, she remained silent, lost in thought as Brian reassured the waitress that everything looked fine.

  Her gaze moved to the crowded market, but her mind was on what Brian and she had been discussing – that autumn six years ago when the anger she had been feeling had overflowed. She had made a decision that would change not only her life, but the life of another boy.

  She had been sixteen, a difficult age if everything is going right in your life – an excruciating age when it wasn’t. It was the year her mother had finally hit rock bottom and Makayla’s life had been changed forever. Her mother had been in an abusive relationship with a loser that had been so bad that Makayla had refused to even think of him by any other name.

  Makayla would never forget the day she had been called out of class and told that her mom had overdosed on the prescription pain medication she’d been addicted to. It was the day she had met Henry – and it had been the beginning of a series of events that would propel her and an unsuspecting boy named Tyrell Richards into the International spotlight. It was also the summer she had met Brian.

  “Breaker died,” she murmured, pulling her thoughts back to the present.

  “I know. My folks told me,” Brian said, spooning some of the sweet and sour pork and rice onto a plate for her. “Mom tries to keep me posted with what is going on back home. She forgot to tell me about Henry, though.”

  Makayla picked up her spoon and began eating her soup. “How are your folks doing?” She asked politely.

  “Good,” Brian replied with a shrug. “They aren’t home much. They are having fun exploring at the moment.”

  “Oh,” Makayla muttered. “So, what ar
e you doing here?” She asked, picking up one of the fish balls on her chopsticks and eyeing it with suspicion.

  “Enjoying lunch with a beautiful woman,” Brian teased, grinning when Makayla rolled her eyes at him. “I work at the US Consulate General as a political advisor among other things.”

  Makayla knew her eyes were wide with surprise before she remembered that he had been studying Political Science in college. She took a bite of the fish ball and was surprised by the delicious flavors. She quickly added two more to her plate of food.

  “Wow, you’ve done pretty well for yourself,” she reflected. “Most Political Science majors end up teaching history at the high school.”

  Brian’s chopsticks paused in midair, and he glanced at her before releasing a chuckle and taking a bite of his own food. Makayla wiggled her eyebrows at him and popped a fish ball into her mouth. He just shook his head at her.

  They spent the next hour talking about a little bit of everything. He asked her about her schooling, she asked him about his work. She told him about some of the research she had been working on and some of the explorations she had been lucky enough to join. The one thing they both avoided talking about was their previous relationship or any current ones they might be in. Makayla didn’t want to know for fear of bursting the fragile little world they had created for themselves in the café. She had noticed right away that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but in today’s world, that didn’t mean much.

  “Have you heard from Tyrell lately?” Brian asked, sitting back with a sigh while a new waitress cleared their table.

  Makayla shook her head. “I haven’t talked to him in about six or seven months. For a guy who loves social media, he has been extremely quiet lately. The last time I saw him was at his grandmother’s funeral. I know her death really hit him hard,” she said.

  “Oh, I didn’t know she had passed away,” Brian murmured with a sigh of regret. “A lot of things have changed in the past three years since I left the States.”