On Her Six (Under Covers)

by Christina Elle

  “What?” His face went from cold to enflamed in an instant. “Why in the hell would he—”

  Ash had a flash of Sam’s withdrawn eyes as she avoided him over the last five days.

  One week. Luke said Heinrich’s club had caught fire a week ago. Right after she’d left Ash’s house. After he’d crushed her dreams and said things he’d never meant.

  Knowing her, and God knew he did, she would have gone after Heinrich trying to prove herself. Ash’s words would have given her the stubborn-assed thrust she needed to confront Heinrich head-on.

  Oh Christ. How could he have done this to her? If she was involved in that fire, Ash was to blame. This was his fight. He needed to protect her from it.

  “Until word comes down on what happened at Club Hell,” Luke’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts, “you’re definitely grounded, man. You can’t go. The director’ll have your ass for disobeying a direct order. Again.”

  Direct order, my ass. Ash’s nostrils flared in protest.

  The women stared at him, arms crossed, practically tapping their toes in impatience.

  Was it really a decision? Sam’s life or his career?

  Hell no.

  “Sorry, Luke,” Ash said hoarsely, his emotions getting the better of him. Please let her be okay. God please let her be alive. “I get it if you aren’t in. But I have to go.”

  Nodding, a slow grin crept over his friend’s face. “The team never did know how to follow direction.”

  Startled, Ash stared at his friend.

  “I told you,” Luke said, “in as a team, out as a team. I already texted Tyke. He and Reese are on their way to the port now. Sawyer’s team said Heinrich arrived about an hour ago. He had a woman with him. And it wasn’t Lorena.” He squeezed Ash’s shoulder.

  “Oh my God,” the one with pearls said, her hand covering her mouth. “He has Sam too!”

  Daisy Duke glared at her again. “Calm down, Celia. You’re no good to us if you can’t keep a level head.” Then she turned her direct gaze to Ash. “Well,” she said, hand on her hip. “Are you comin’ or not?”

  “I am,” he said just as direct. “But, I’m sorry. I can’t let you ladies come along. This is official law enforcement business—”

  “But—”

  “Now wait just a minute—”

  “Who do you think you are—”

  “If you think we’re going to sit around and wait like a bunch of helpless old ladies—”

  It was like a whole gaggle of Samanthas. “Enough!” Ash shouted, his nerves getting the better of him. The women’s lips zipped shut, and they lurched back a step. “Time is of the essence, so unless you plan on arguing with me for another few hours, during which Sam and Rose could be seriously injured,” he paused for effect, eyeing each woman in turn, “then I suggest you go back to your houses and wait for me to return.”

  When their mouths opened again, he cut them off by saying, “I love her.” Then swallowed. The poufy heads of varying colors tilted as the women stared at him like he’d just said he was an alien and wanted to probe them. “I love her,” he said again. “And I swear to you I will do everything in my power to bring them both home alive. Whatever it takes. Trust me.”

  The women remained quiet, and after a minute their jaws lifted back into place. He got a confident, stiff nod from each woman.

  Whatever it takes.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  How did she get here? Where was Grandma Rose?

  Sam remembered driving to the docks, sneaking from shipping container to container, listening for signs of her grandmother. She’d approached the pier, coming up on a boat where she’d spotted Heinrich. Then a sharp pain drilled against her skull and everything went black.

  Now she sat in a room, tied to a metal chair, with voices echoing around her. Gray evening light filtered through a nearby window. The floor was bare. The way her tennis shoes tapped against the ground told her it was covered in wood. Golden-toned sconces offered soft illumination on rich crimson-colored walls. The furniture around her was dark and masculine.

  She sat in the middle of the room as if on display. Her stomach was unsettled. Off kilter. Queasy. The earth moved around her—swaying, sloshing from side to side.

  A chill slid down Sam’s spine, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She was on the boat. She instinctively reached for her weapons only to feel the bite of the thick rope against her skin. Her weapons were gone.

  Where’s Grandma Rose?

  No. She blinked the tears away. Nothing was going to happen to her. Sam would sacrifice herself long before she let harm come to those she loved. She had to figure out a way to loosen the tight restraints.

  She wiggled in the steel chair, lifting her shoulders up and down. If I could…just…slide it up…

  “Well, hello, sunshine.” Heinrich’s voice spoke through a satisfied grin. “How are we feeling?” His shadow approached from her front, coming into view within inches of her face. He leaned in, hands on his knees. A single strand of unruly bleached hair fell over his forehead. “Looking for these?” He pointed to a nearby table, which held the tranq gun, pepper spray, and air horn with earplugs she’d brought with her.

  “I wasn’t about to let you keep them.” He lifted the air horn can and examined it. “I’ve seen what they can do.”

  “Where’s my grandmother?” Sam asked, forcing determination in her tone. Never show weakness. No matter your position.

  “She’s fine for now.” He placed the can back on the table, then reached his arm around his back. “You’ll be together soon. But first, I want to talk to you.”

  “I have nothing to say to you, Heinrich.” Sam twisted her head from his harsh features, focusing on a colorful painting on the opposite wall. Being this close to the man made her sick to her stomach even more than the sway of the boat.

  He laughed with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side lately. Looking for dear old dad, are you?” He lifted her dad’s .38 service weapon she’d brought with her and turned it from side to side.

  Her breath hitched.

  “This was his, was it not?” He opened the cylinder and peered inside. The six bullets she’d loaded earlier were still inside. Snapping it closed, he shut one eye and peered through the sight at her.

  She strained against her restraints, the rope growing tighter with each twist. “You’re going to pay, Heinrich. I’m personally going to see to it.”

  He lowered the gun and positioned his face close to hers again. His eyes were direct, and his stale breath blew against her lips when he whispered, “After what you did to my club, I should kill you right now. You don’t know how much I had to pay the fucking cops and fire department to get off my ass.” His lips pressed together as his gaze dropped to the bare skin of her upper thigh. “You know, I like you this way—all tied up.” The barrel of the .38 grazed her kneecap and then slid up the inside of her leg. “Davy Harper’s little girl.”

  She flinched but forced her body to relax, refusing to show fear. She hated herself for rushing out of the house in nothing more than a tank top and shorts. This was definitely not ass-kicking attire.

  “I’m going to tear you to pieces,” she said, baring her teeth. “You’re going to be sorry you ever messed with my family.”

  “Testy, testy.” He straightened and placed the gun on the table with a thunk.

  “What do you want, Heinrich? Name it and it’s yours. Just let my grandmother go.” If her hands were untied, she would have snapped her fingers. It was that easy. Leave Rose out of it, and he could have anything he wanted.

  He paced the area around her chair, his expensive alligator shoes tapping on the cherry floor with each step. “Such a simple question. ‘What do you want?’” His body spun toward her, eyes black and expression monstrous. “I want the Harpers to stay the hell out of my business!” Then, heaving a deep breath, he flicked an invisible piece of lint from his shou
lder and said, “But that doesn’t seem possible. Every time I get rid of one of you, another pops up that I have to deal with.” His gaze locked with hers. “No more. I’m going to be rid of you Harpers after tonight.”

  “Fine, Heinrich,” Sam said, swallowing hard. “Do it. Kill me. But let my grandmother go. This is between you and me. She’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “Ah, precious Samantha.” He grinned, showcasing his perfect veneers. “That’s where you’re wrong. She’s got everything to do with it.” At Sam’s confused look, Heinrich’s grin widened. “I’m not going to kill you. What would be the fun in that? No, no. I’m going to make you watch as I turn your grandmother into a Vamp.”

  Bile rose in her throat, and the blood in her veins turned to lava. “You c-can’t.” She forced sharp intakes of air into her lungs to bolster her strength.

  “I can.” He leaned down and placed each hand on the arms of the metal chair, trapping her. “And I will. It’s only a matter of time before she’s an addict anyway.” He cocked his head to the side to assess her. “Might as well be tonight under your watchful eye.”

  “What?” Her throat tightened, making it tough to get the word out.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled the room. “I forgot to tell you. By this time tomorrow, everyone in Baltimore will be a Vamp.”

  Her mouth dropped open and the lava in her veins turned to ice.

  “Wonderful, isn’t it? All your friends and neighbors flocking to me, begging for their next hit. Paying tens of thousands of dollars for one tiny piece of paper.” He closed his eyes and shivered with what seemed like excitement. The disgusting monster looked back at Sam. “Baltimore is only the start. After this drop, we’ll hit every port in America.”

  “Why?” What could possess a person to cause such devastation?

  His expression said she should know the answer. “Money. Our friends in the Middle East are paying a pretty penny for this to happen.”

  He paced the room again, the tap of his expensive shoes pounding inside her head. “It’s new-age terrorism. Infiltrate the country from the inside out. When I’m done, every American will be so hooked they won’t want anything but their next hit. They won’t eat. They won’t sleep. They won’t go to work. Everything will crumble. They’ll kill each other. Destroy the entire country. It’s fucking brilliant.”

  The picture he painted came quick and vivid. Grandma Rose, the ladies, her friends, coworkers all clawing at one another the way the Vamps at Club Hell had done, desperate enough to kill for more of the drug. She couldn’t imagine loving or needing anything more than her family.

  “How? How are you going to do it?”

  “I haven’t decided exactly how yet. It’s between water or air. Which do you prefer? Would you rather drink or inhale your addiction?” He sucked in another deep breath, so proud of himself. “No matter. I have men ready for both, so I’ll cover all bases. People can drink and inhale. It’s untraceable, so no one would know they’ve ingested it. There’ll be no stopping it. It’ll grow until everyone everywhere is infected. We’d been using my club as the testing site, and I have to say, things worked out quite nicely.” He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Before your interruption, of course.”

  “Like people won’t notice what you’re doing.”

  He flashed a smug grin. “So much to learn, Samantha. No one cares what we’re doing. It’s amazing how blind the police are when you throw enough money at them.” He paused, examining his manicured fingers again, the arrogant bastard. “I have to admit, I agree with my new friends. It’s about time America the Superpower falls from grace. It’s been destroying itself anyway; why not make a few billion dollars to help it along?”

  “And where will you be during the destruction?”

  He smiled. “On a beach, sipping Mai Tais while my personal masseuse pleasures me.”

  “Bastard!” Sam shouted.

  “Yes, but a rich bastard.” He shrugged again, showing no signs of guilt. “I’ve delayed long enough. Back to business.” Heinrich snapped his fingers, and a large man appeared at his side. “Bring her.”

  Much like the brutes at Club Hell, this one was tall, built, and handled her with no problem. She shot a glance at her weapons on the far table, wishing like hell she could at least snag one on the way out. The man lifted Sam, still tied to the chair, and carried her through the doorway, down a long corridor, without breaking a sweat.

  They strode into the warm night to a larger boat docked at a pier. The man hoisted her aboard, dropping the chair inside the cabin. This room was much less personal than the last. White walls and floor, knobs and buttons with a wheel, and an expanse of windows from which to see the harbor.

  A scuffle sounded beside her, and she turned.

  “Unhand me, you buffoon!” Rose shouted.

  “She’s a mouthy one, sir,” the man holding Rose said to Heinrich.

  “Seems to run in the family,” Heinrich responded, looking at Sam. “Place her here.” His finger pointed to a spot in front of Sam, just out of reach. Not that she could have reached her grandmother with her hands still tied. She wiggled her wrists and arms again.

  Once Rose sat in front of her, also tied to a chair, Heinrich’s lips curled. “Pay attention, Samantha, dear. You’re not going to want to miss this.”

  “No!” she screamed. “Heinrich, you can’t do this! Please! Take me!” Sam bucked against the restraints, lifting the chair from the hard ground. “Give me the Vamp! I’ll take it!”

  “Hold her still,” he snapped at two others. It was eerie how many Hanses Heinrich had on staff.

  They clamped on to Sam’s shoulders, digging their fingers into her bare flesh.

  Rose met her eyes. Her voice was calm and soothing, just like every other time Sam had been in trouble. “We’re going to be fine, sweets.”

  Sam nodded, though she didn’t believe it. How could they be? She’d made Celia promise not to tell the others where they were, she’d avoided Ash for the last week, and she wasn’t due at work for another twelve hours. No one would come looking for them. Rose would be an incurable addict, and Sam would be dead long before anyone noticed they were missing.

  She’d gotten her grandmother into this situation, and it was more than she could take. She’d provoked Heinrich when she set fire to his club. For all she knew she’d burned it to the ground. She’d driven him to kidnap her grandmother.

  This was all her fault. She needed to get Rose out of this.

  Heinrich’s henchman brought a stack of white paper from somewhere on the boat. It didn’t look much different than something a student would write on in class. But she knew it was.

  This paper held the power to destroy people’s lives. In a single day, it could annihilate an entire country built on morals and fortitude.

  She had to stop this. She just didn’t know how.

  The German with the Vamp paper stepped toward Rose, while two of his buddies held her head and pried her mouth open.

  “NO!” Sam fought against her restraints in a last ditch effort to free herself, her muscles burning from being locked into place for so long.

  The cabin door opened, warm air whisking in, and footsteps entered.

  “Jesus Christ, Heinrich,” a familiar voice said. “I’m here. What do you want?”

  Sam’s gaze jerked to the doorway.

  “Sam?” The man’s usually warm eyes opened wide, and his face drained of all color. The air in her lungs emptied in half a second.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “So what’s the plan?” Luke asked as he and Ash huddled behind a large shipping container, overlooking the port.

  They positioned themselves about three hundred yards from a boat where intel said Heinrich held the women hostage.

  The boat was docked at the pier, surrounded by a mass of other industrial-looking vessels. It was dark and quiet, the only activity coming from a shitload of Heinrich’s men pacing with automatic rifles. Thick, wh
ite steam filtered into the night sky from nearby smoke stacks, creating an eerily unsettling aura for what they came to do.

  They scoped out the area, waiting for Tyke and Reese to arrive. Ash with high-powered, thermal binoculars and Calder with a Laser Listening Device. It connected to a wireless earpiece, which Calder was currently using to keep tabs on Heinrich. They both had a secondary earpiece and mic to communicate to one another if they became separated. Once Tyke and Reese showed up, they’d be able to hook into the signal and communicate, too. Just like a team.

  Where the hell were they? If they waited too long… His eyes flashed to his sniper rifle lying at his feet. He could get two, maybe three shots off before compromising their location.

  He raked a rough hand over his buzzed hair and surveyed the area again through his binoculars.

  Twenty armed men surrounding the boat. Shit. Twenty. Twenty well-trained assassins with rifles to their two skilled agents, if Tyke and Reese didn’t arrive soon. He slid a damp palm down his thigh. They couldn’t wait much longer.

  Correction—he couldn’t wait much longer. Sam down there at Heinrich’s mercy was a thought he didn’t want to process. What Heinrich could be doing to her. The fact that Ash wasn’t down there right now saving her from it was enough to give him an aneurysm.

  “Got a plan yet?” Luke asked, the tone of his voice as thick as the air surrounding them. Obviously Ash’s impatience was starting to choke Calder, too.

  He turned the binoculars toward the entrance of the port. “First, we wait for the rest of the team.” Please let them get here in time.

  Luke held a finger against his earpiece. He turned, giving Ash a hesitant look. “Heinrich’s threatening Sam.”

  “Goddamn it,” Ash said louder than he meant. His brain jumped into hyper-speed. Scenarios zipped through his subconscious, calculating every possible ending to the situation. Each one got him or Sam killed.

  “What’s going on? Report. Now.” Luckily Calder didn’t comment about him barking orders like a team leader.

  “Heinrich’s talking,” he said.