Protecting Dakota: SEAL of Protection, Book 10

by Stoker, Susan

  He could only see two shapes, near the front of the vessel, but that didn’t mean Dakota wasn’t there. He didn’t have a clear view of the bottom of the boat. If they were following Zach, it was likely that Dakota was there too. The alternative was unthinkable.

  “Bubba says the female target is not in the third vessel. Repeat, she is not in the third boat.”

  Which meant they were following Zach, and Dakota had to be there.

  Slade could see one of the two men look behind him several times, but he otherwise didn’t move away from the controls. He had no idea if the terrorists could hear them coming or not, but it didn’t matter. The men were as good as dead.

  Rex shouted, “Hold on,” as he steered the rubber Zodiac straight for the boat in front of them. He pulled up alongside the other craft and without hesitation, rammed it, both figures at the front flying off their feet at the collision.

  Slade and Cookie were moving even as Rex gunned the vessel and pulled up alongside the boat again. They’d removed their goggles and jumped into the other boat as both continued to careen forward at a high rate of speed.

  Cookie was on the driver before either of the men knew they’d been boarded. He’d reached around and slit his throat so quickly, he didn’t have a chance to fight back.

  Zach wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Slade grabbed the man and threw him to the bottom of the boat so hard, he gasped, trying to get air into his lungs. Slade was on him in an instant, crouched over him, his KA-BAR knife at his throat. Cookie slowed then stopped the boat, but Slade’s attention was elsewhere.

  Keeping the knife on Zach’s jugular vein, he turned to look at the back of the boat.

  Empty.

  Dakota wasn’t there. She wasn’t fucking there! How could she not be there?

  For the first time that evening, his heart rate increased. He’d been focused and stoic until now. Cold, ready, and willing to do whatever it took to end the threat to Dakota. But she wasn’t in the boat. She was supposed to be there. Where the ever-loving fuck was she?

  Shifting so that one of his knees pressed into Zach’s breastbone, he snarled at the terrorist, “Where is she?”

  An ugly sneer slid across Zach’s face. “Who? My wife, Anoushka Fourati? Hidden where you’ll never find her.”

  “Bullshit,” Slade said putting more pressure on the knife, not caring that a line of blood welled at the man’s throat. “Where is she?”

  The pain was getting to Zach. He winced and tried to pull away from the knife at his throat, with no luck. “She was a great fuck. I love it when bitches fight,” Zach unwisely boasted.

  Slade was done. He wanted the man under him to die slowly and painfully, but Dakota needed him. He didn’t have time to kill Zach the way he wanted. He leaned down until he was right in Zach’s face and said softly, “You’re nothing but a coward.”

  “Maybe so, but my name will be remembered forever. Like Timothy McVeigh and the Unabomber, my actions will live on in infinity,” Zach choked out.

  “Wrong. I’m going to make it my goal in life to make sure not one news outlet knows your name. Not one.” And with that, Slade drew his knife across Zach’s neck slowly and methodically, not even attempting to be merciful.

  He was turning away from the man even as he gurgled and bled out at the bottom of the boat.

  Rex’s voice speaking to the men on the other boats sounded as though it were coming from a great distance. “Target not here. Repeat, target not here. Anyone got eyes on Dakota?”

  Slade turned back to Zach’s body, his blood spilling into the boat in a slow but steady pace, the man’s hands at his neck not doing anything to staunch the flow from his jugular. He leaned down and took hold of the man’s blond hair, lifted his head up high, and proceeded to slice his throat again. Then a third time, before dropping the man with disgust. “I killed you too quickly, motherfucker,” Slade said in a cold, deadly tone.

  Then he looked up at Cookie. “Where’s my woman?”

  “I don’t know. But we’re gonna find her, Cutter. We’re gonna fucking find her.”

  * * *

  Dakota floated on her back, arms stretched out, legs spread, and gazed up into the night sky. The stars were as clear out here as they were in Nevada. She’d never seen so many in all her life.

  When she’d first hit the water, her breath had left her at the freezing temperature. The water was frigid. It was enough to jolt her out of her drugged stupor for a while. She’d treaded water for a long moment, watching as the boat she’d been on raced away from her. Stupid Aziz hadn’t even realized she was gone. Idiot.

  Then she’d begun to swim toward the shore. She had no idea how far away it was, but it was most likely a couple miles. Distances were skewed at night, especially in her confused state. After a while, she stopped being so cold and realized she was tired. Really tired.

  Happy for her natural buoyancy, and the fact that she’d been a competitive water polo player all through high school and college, thus learning how to swim and float better than the average person, Dakota turned on her back to rest.

  She bobbed up and down in the water bonelessly. She’d just rest for a while, then she’d start swimming again. The night really was beautiful, serene. With her ears under the water she couldn’t hear anything but the whoosh of the waves as they gently lifted her body up and down, and her own slow heartbeat.

  As she stared up at the sky, a shooting star went sailing past her line of vision. Dakota smiled. It had been forever since she’d seen one. A wish. She had to make a wish. Closing her eyes and feeling more comfortable than she’d been in hours, Dakota made her wish.

  * * *

  “We know she was on one of the boats,” Rex said into the headset. “We saw someone throw her into the bottom of one of them. She has to be out here somewhere. They might’ve thrown her overboard when they knew we were on their tails.”

  Slade blocked out the chatter from the SEAL at the front of the boat. He was kneeling on the side of the rubber boat, one hand fisted in the rope at the side to keep his balance, his eyes fixed on the blackness in front of him.

  Cookie was wearing night-vision goggles, which gave him the ability to see about twenty feet in front of him, but Slade had put the thermals back on. He could clearly see birds soaring on the thermals in the night sky, and even a couple of flying fish as they jumped out of the water. But what he was looking for was Dakota. He knew the water was cold, which would quickly sap the warmth from her body, but it hadn’t been that long. He should still be able to distinguish her body in the water. She had to be out here somewhere.

  He refused to think about what Caroline had gone through all those years ago, when her captors had weighted her body down with chains before throwing her into the ocean. He refused to think about Dakota sinking to the bottom, struggling with her bindings before running out of air and instinctively taking a huge breath, which would fill her lungs with water instead of life-saving air.

  No. He would not lose her now. No way. It had been less than a week since she’d come into his life, and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted to know everything about her. Where she’d learned sign language. What her favorite color was. What she was like as a young child.

  The tears came to Slade’s eyes unbidden, and he forced them back. He had no time to lose it. He needed his vision to be clear. He needed to be able to find Dakota. She was out here and time was ticking away.

  “Come on, where are you, love?” he asked softly, even as his eyes continued to scan the horizon for anything out of place. Any spec of pink that might indicate the warmth from her body. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack…no, a needle in a needle stack. Impossible, but he wasn’t going to give up. No way. He would find her.

  “Our boat had Zach, it’s most likely she’s in this area,” Rex was telling the other boats. “Converge on our position and begin a grid search. We don’t know when she might’ve been…err…put out of the boat. She could be a
nywhere between us and the beach.”

  Again, Slade tuned the man out. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up as he scanned the waters.

  “See anything?” Cookie asked from his left.

  “Not yet,” Slade said. “But she’s here. We’re close. I can feel it.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Cookie said. Neither man looked away from the vast ocean in front of them, but Cookie went on. “I’ve got the same feeling I had the first time I met my wife. I was two steps away from leaving that shithole of a hut in the middle of fucking nowhere, Mexico, when something made me turn back. I shouldn’t have. I had Julie and we needed to get the fuck out of there before the sex traffickers came back, but I hesitated, took one last look around and before I knew what I was doing, I was walking toward the back of that hut. Sure I was missing something.”

  “Fiona,” Slade said with certainty.

  “Yeah. I’ve got that same feeling right now.”

  “Come on, love. Help me find you,” Slade whispered as he scanned the waves.

  * * *

  Dakota was dying. She knew it. Had no idea why she was still alive as it was. She couldn’t feel her extremities and knew there was no way she would make it to land. Aziz was long gone, and she didn’t want to get picked back up by him or any of his followers anyway.

  The stars twinkled merrily above her head as she floated, and she felt sad. Not for herself; once she was gone, she wouldn’t be in any pain. She wouldn’t miss her loved ones. She firmly believed her soul would fly free and know nothing but cocooned happiness until it was determined she was to reincarnate and come back to Earth.

  She wondered for a moment what Slade thought about death. Was he religious? Did he believe in God? It was one more thing she’d never know about him.

  Remembering why she felt sad, Dakota sighed. Her dad would take her death hard. After her mom died, it had taken him a long time to get back to a semblance of his old self. And Caroline? Did she make it to safety? Would she forgive herself if Dakota died? Would she spend the rest of her life wishing she’d done something differently?

  And Slade. She’d known the man less than a week, but her soul had recognized his. She didn’t talk about her beliefs with that many people, but the second she saw him, she knew they had to have known each other in another life. Knew they were meant to find each other in this one. And they’d had less than a week together. Less than a darn week.

  Lifting her arm, not even noticing how much it shook, Dakota reached up to one of the stars. She wanted to touch it. To bring it down to Earth. To share it with Slade. But it remained out of reach. It looked like she was touching it, but when she closed her fist, she was left with nothing but air.

  Dropping her arm in frustration, not feeling the water splash onto her numb cheeks, Dakota closed her eyes. She was so comfortable. The water wasn’t even cold anymore.

  * * *

  “Did you see that?” Slade asked Cookie urgently.

  “What? Where?”

  “Eleven o’clock. It was a flash of pink in my goggles.”

  Rex was steering the boat in that direction without having to be told. Slade and Cookie repositioned themselves in the boat and aimed their gazes ahead of the Zodiac.

  Cookie and Rex didn’t even ask if Slade was sure. They didn’t second-guess him. If Slade said he thought he saw something, they’d go and investigate. They were all aware of how much time was going by. Precious time that, if Dakota was alive, she didn’t have.

  Rex informed the other search boats that Slade thought he saw something and to hold for more intel.

  As they got closer and closer to whatever it was Slade saw, he held his breath.

  Please be Dakota. Please be Dakota. I need her. I can’t lose her.

  “Fuck me, it’s her,” Cookie murmured.

  At the same time, Rex said into the headset, “We found her!”

  Slade had already whipped off his thermals, not needing them to know what he was looking at. Dakota was lying on her back. The beige shawl she’d been wearing in the video was somehow still attached to her and floating around her in a mass of fluff. The silky pants were completely see-through and looked almost ethereal. Her hair around her head formed what appeared like a halo.

  Her eyes were closed and her arms and legs outstretched. She looked as if she was taking a nap, except her lips were blue and her skin was an alarming shade of white. Whatever she’d done to catch his attention had probably taken the last of her strength.

  Without thought, Slade ripped off his boots and slipped into the water, careful not to make any waves that would wash over her and possibly choke her. A part of him realized that Cookie was right there next to him in the water, but he didn’t spare a glance for the other man, all his attention was on Dakota. Was she breathing? Was she alive? It certainly didn’t look like it.

  He was at her side with two hard strokes. He put one hand on the back of her neck, holding her still and making sure her head didn’t slip underwater, and the other went under her, resting on her shoulder blades.

  Slade knew Cookie went to her other side and put his hands under her spine and butt, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dakota’s face. She’d been beaten, badly. Her lip was split and there was still blood oozing from one of her nostrils. Both eyes were swollen and she had several visible cuts on her face. He couldn’t see the rest of her body to check for injuries, but he had no doubt they were there.

  But she had a half smile on her face and she looked serene. It was unbelievable, but Slade almost didn’t want to disturb her. Almost.

  “Dakota? Can you hear me?”

  Not expecting any response, Slade was shocked when her eyes popped open into slits and she looked at him.

  “Slade?”

  “Yeah, love. It’s me.” It was an inane conversation to have in the middle of the fucking ocean after he’d just killed the terrorist who’d married her live on video, but he didn’t care.

  “You came.” The two words were said with absolutely certainty. Not wonder or surprise.

  The tears he’d held back earlier filled his eyes and spilled over. Not once in his entire SEAL career had he ever cried over a rescue. Not once. But this was no ordinary rescue.

  “You think you’re ready to go home?” Cookie asked from the other side of her.

  Dakota’s eyes moved from Slade’s face to Cookie’s, and now she did look surprised. “You have a thing for rescuing women from the ocean.”

  The other SEAL laughed. “I see you and Ice had time to chat, huh?”

  “Yeah. She okay?”

  “Why don’t we get back in the boat and see?” Slade suggested calmly. He had no idea what had happened to Caroline, but figured she was probably good since Wolf had taken off after her and Rex hadn’t said otherwise. He and Cookie moved in unison, shifting Dakota closer to the Zodiac. By that time, two other boats had converged on the area to assist. They made a triangle around the trio in the water, protecting them from rogue waves.

  Dakota closed her eyes and nodded.

  “Keep your eyes open,” Slade ordered.

  Obediently they opened.

  “That’s it, love. Keep looking at me. I’ve got you.”

  Throughout the entire production of hauling her out of the water, stripping her clothes off, Slade removing his as well, and the other SEALs wrapping them both up together in an emergency blanket, she never looked away from him once.

  Slade lie in the bottom of the Zodiac as it raced back to Coronado and the Naval base, where Commander Hurt had medical personnel standing by waiting for them, and marveled at the feeling of having Dakota back in his arms. It was literally a miracle that they’d been able to find her. People fell overboard all the time and were never heard from again.

  “Are you injured anywhere besides your face?” he asked into her ear as they raced across the water.

  She nodded.

  “Where?”

  Slade put his ear to her lips as she quietly spoke.


  “My knee. My side. My hips.”

  “Do they hurt?”

  “I can’t feel anything. I’m not even cold. Maybe it’s the drugs?”

  “What drugs?” Slade asked urgently, motioning to Cookie with his head. The other SEAL leaned down so he could hear Dakota.

  “He did something to me. Gave me something. Caroline too. He wanted us conscious, but not able to fight him.”

  “Did he rape you, love?” Slade reluctantly asked. He needed to know. Not for his sake, but for hers. If she’d been violated, he’d get her whatever help she needed in order to get past it. She was his, and nothing would keep him from her side. Literally nothing. He didn’t care if she was pregnant. He hadn’t planned on ever having children, not at his age, but if by some fluke, Zach had been able to go through with consummating his fucked-up idea of marriage and get her pregnant, he’d raise her baby as if it was his own. A child who would be half hers, and he loved Dakota with all his heart. Any baby of hers would never know hate. Would know nothing but love from both its parents.

  “No.”

  Slade wanted to believe her, but wasn’t sure he could.

  He leaned down and put his lips right near her ear, making sure she could hear him loud and clear. “Nothing that happened will make me leave your side, love. Nothing. You understand?”

  She nodded and he pulled back. Her skin was like ice against his. He was shivering nonstop, quaking with it, but she lay over him unmoving and still. It wasn’t a good sign.

  “He was waiting until we got to Mexico. Wanted to take his time. Give me more drugs. He wanted me to be inpacasitated…incamasitated…unable to do anything while he and his buddies raped me. I swear he didn’t touch me that way, Slade. I wouldn’t lie about it.”

  He breathed out a huge sigh of relief, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against hers. “Thank fuck,” he said, his lips brushing hers as he did.

  Dakota struggled over him for a moment, and Slade loosened his grip so she could free her arms from between them. She wrapped them around him and buried her nose into the space between his neck and shoulder. Cookie was there to tuck the silver emergency blanket closer around her, making sure she was completely covered after she’d shifted.