by Rebecca Deel
Ashworth cursed and punched Stella with enough force her body flew back and hit the wall. She slid to the floor and into the darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Nate headed for the rear entrance to the building where Stella and Deke were held. Through his ear piece, Josh said, “Wait for my signal. We need to do this fast and quiet. If Ashworth realizes we’re in the building, the marshals are dead.”
A ball of ice formed in his gut as he battled the urge to storm the place, a feeling almost impossible to ignore. Only years of discipline allowed him to stick to the plan.
That Ashworth wasn’t expecting them was to their advantage as was the layout of the building. None of the entrances were within sight of each other. As long as they took down the guard at each door in silence, Durango stood good chance of reaching Stella and Deke without raising an alarm. Jamming the cell signals was Zane’s contribution to the rescue. Ashworth couldn’t order the deaths of Kayla and Maya. If they were still alive when Trent and the other Fortress operatives reached Ashworth’s home, Nate believed his co-workers would be successful. Trent planned the same operation as Josh. Fast, hard, silent.
He chose a window three offices over from the door his target guarded. Nate dropped to one knee, shrugged off his pack, and fished out a suction cup and glass cutter. He scanned the area while waiting for Josh’s signal. The sharp November wind whipped across his face and blew away lingering brain fog from his head injury. Heavy cloud cover blocked most of the natural light, streetlights too far away to illuminate the area. Good for him and his teammates.
“Ready,” he murmured into his comm system. Over the course of the next two minutes, the rest of his teammates reported the same.
“On three.”
At Josh’s count, Nate placed a suction cup on the window and cut the edge of glass. Nate eased the window free and placed it on the ground. He secured the cup and cutter and settled the pack on his back.
“We’re in,” Josh murmured. “Alex is going after his target. I’m headed to the second floor. Check in when your target’s down.”
“Copy.”
Nate climbed through the open window and slid to the floor. The office door was open and soft rustling sounds drifted in from the hallway. He skirted abandoned furniture visible in the soft light from the hall. Huh. Someone must be paying the light bill. Nate wondered if Ashworth or maybe Manetti owned this building. Explained why there was no evidence of a break-in.
He glanced down the hall, the light too dim to do more than create great pools of shadows. Gave Nate a better chance of covering the distance to his target without discovery.
He listened for more movement to tell him the location of his man. Hugging the wall, Nate worked his way down the corridor.
A heavy sigh reached his ears. Nate eased closer to his target. He stopped short of a small lobby. From the blueprints, the back door was fifty feet to the left.
He waited with the patience of a predator for the guard’s movements to pinpoint his exact location. As if on cue, fabric brushed the wall. This guy would never have made it in black ops. With slow movements designed not to draw attention, Nate peered around the corner toward the left.
In his ear piece, one by one his teammates reported their primary targets were contained.
The guard stood facing the door, back to Nate, shoulder propped against the wall. Fifteen feet. Between one heartbeat and the next, Nate closed the gap between him and his quarry. One hard punch to the kidney and a sleeper hold, and his man was down without a sound.
Nate slapped some black duct tape over his mouth, cinched his hands behind his back and dragged him into the nearest office. After dumping him under the desk where he wouldn’t be seen easily, he said into his comm, “Target four down.”
“Copy. Move to next target, Nate,” Josh murmured. “The rest of you move to secondary targets.”
Durango’s leader must have taken out the guard at the door where Stella and Deke were being held. One step closer to Nate having his girl back in his arms. He jogged to the nearest staircase. Easing the second floor door open, he slipped through in silence. Only Josh was in sight.
A shout from behind the closed door. Nate ran. Angry words reached his ears.
“He deserved to die. I don’t tolerate stupidity. If she hadn’t killed him, I’d have done it myself.”
Silently, Nate cheered his girlfriend.
“Finish strapping them to the chairs. The clock’s ticking. We have time to clear out if we hurry.”
He glanced at Josh and saw from his friend’s grim expression he’d caught the same reference. A mental clock began ticking in Nate’s head.
A flurry of movement on the other side of the door and then the knob turned. Nate and Josh waited on either side of the door. Rick Ashworth strode through the doorway. Nate grabbed him and slammed him face-first into the wall.
Stunned, but not down, Ashworth snapped his head back. Nate just missed having a broken nose to go with his scalp laceration. He rabbit-punched the man who had caused Stella so much grief and killed two of her friends. When his knees buckled, Nate took him to the floor. Didn’t bother him any when Ashworth’s head thudded against the hard surface. The other man went limp. Once he’d secured the murderer, he scrambled to his feet and rushed into the room. He skidded to a stop, cold chills racing down his spine.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Is this as bad as it looks?” Josh asked.
“Worse.” Nate ignored the dead thug with a gash over his carotid and the live one Josh trussed up in a glaring bundle. “Clear everybody out of here.” He moved closer to the bomb strapped to his girlfriend. “There’s enough Semtex here to blow up a city block.”
“Bomb squad?”
“No time.” Bomb squad wouldn’t arrive in time to disarm the device. This wasn’t like the bomb used to kill Lance Cannon. This was a professional’s work.
Nate scanned for the detonator. “Check Ashworth for anything that might deactivate this thing or set it off if he gets his hands on it. Watch and cell phone, too.”
His team leader hurried into the hall and checked Ashworth’s pockets and returned, watch and phone in hand. “Nothing.”
Crouching beside the chair Stella was taped to, he inspected the device. Was it time-initiated or radio-controlled? At least a cell phone call couldn’t set it off. No timer. No way to know how much time was left. Couldn’t be a lot given Ashworth’s comments before he took him down. Nate figured on five or six minutes to defuse the bomb. No pressure.
Stella moaned.
Oh, man. He couldn’t let her move. Nate glanced at her face. Rage clouded his thinking for a moment. Ashworth had beaten her again. One look at Deke told him the other marshal was in worse shape than Stella.
He cupped her face between his palms, his touch gentle, careful not to place pressure on her injuries or the device strapped to her torso. “Sweetheart, it’s Nate. I need you to look at me.”
“Nate?” she whispered.
“I’m right here, baby. Open your eyes.”
She dragged her eyes open. “You’re alive. Ashworth?”
“We’ve got him. Stella, try not to move.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“Ashworth strapped a bomb to you.”
She drew in a slow breath. “Can you defuse it?”
“I’m the bomb whisperer. What do you think?” Satisfied she was alert enough to follow his orders, he released her and focused on the bomb itself. He visually followed the wires.
“Nate?”
“What, baby?”
“Get Deke out of here.”
His gaze snapped to hers for an instant before returning to his study of the device. “The plan is to free both of you.”
“Please. He has a family.”
Josh knelt beside him. “Can you defuse it?”
“No choice. Can’t evacuate the neighborhood fast enough.” He shrugged off his pack.
“How much time?” Stella asked
.
“No count-down clock.”
A tear streaked down her face. “Leave me. Take Deke and your teammates with you.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not leaving you here. We’ll walk out together. Major, clear everybody out. Now.”
A hard hand squeezed his shoulder. Josh cut Deke free and hauled him into a fireman’s carry. “Defuse that thing and let’s go home.”
“Copy that.” Nate unzipped his pack, pulled out his tools and went to work.
Stella’s body trembled from shock and the room’s cold temperature. Everything ached from the blows of Ashworth’s fists and her impact with the wall. Most of the tremors, though, came from her bone-deep fear for Nate. No matter what, he’d stay with her. White-hot emotion swelled inside. “Will it bother you if we talk?” She needed a distraction from the bomb strapped to her body.
“Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”
She blinked. “Honeymoon?” Not a question she’d expected under the circumstances.
“You’re not backing out on me, are you?”
“Never.”
He smiled. “Good to know. Where do you want to go, Stella?”
“Someplace warm.” Another hard shiver racked her body. “Lots of sun and a beach.”
“Private beach?”
Her gaze locked on his thick dark hair. White showed through some of the strands. Had he been injured? “Nice, but not necessary. I just want to be with you.” If they survived Ashworth’s latest surprise. Helpless anger flooded her. She wanted the life they’d planned together. Building a life, holding their children and grandchildren, growing older together.
“I want you to myself, baby, and both of us will relax more if we don’t have to watch our backs. How does two weeks in Hawaii sound?”
“Like heaven.”
“I’ll set it up as soon as you give me a firm date for the wedding.”
Her teeth started chattering. “Two weeks,” she stuttered out.
“Got it. Two-week honeymoon.”
Stella shook her head. “No. Wedding two weeks from today.”
Nate dragged in a rough breath and darted a quick look at her before focusing again on the bomb. “No wiggling out of it now, baby. I’ll hold you it.”
“Deal. How long do we have left?”
“Almost there, sweetheart. Talk to me.”
“The first time I met you, I was fascinated by the contrast of a professional chef with lethal skills outside of the kitchen. You didn’t say much, but it was obvious you and your teammates were close, that your unit had been through the fire together. I thought I had that same kind of working relationship with the marshals in my office. Turns out I was wrong.”
“Good men work in your office. Yates didn’t leak information because of greed.”
“How do you know?”
“We confronted him after the wreck. Ashworth’s holding Kayla and Maya hostage. He threatened to kill them if Yates didn’t give him the information he wanted.”
“How did you find us?”
“Yates. Ashworth shot him, left him to die.”
So much loss of life, and for what? “Will he make it?”
“Don’t know. Rio did what he could for him before we came here. Trent St. Claire took another team to rescue Kayla and Maya.” He shifted closer. “He’ll take them to Fortress headquarters until it’s safe to visit Yates. He did what was necessary to protect his family, Stella.”
“He should have told someone Ashworth was blackmailing him. We could have helped.”
“He knows, sweetheart. He said to tell you he was sorry.” Nate maneuvered wire cutters into place over a black wire and locked his gaze with hers. “Ready to get out of here?”
She nodded.
“I love you, baby.” Nate cut the wire.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Nate dropped his wire cutters into his pack, unsheathed his Ka-Bar, and sliced through the duct tape holding his girlfriend to the chair. “Stay still for another minute and you’ll be free.”
He unstrapped the bomb and set the device aside. After removing the rest of the tape, he shrugged into his pack and lifted her against his chest. Nate strode into the hall.
“Hey, you can’t leave me here,” Ashworth yelled. “I’ll die.”
“Ask me if I care.” Nate never broke his stride. He carried Stella into the cold night. Down the street, blue and white lights flashed. Josh must have called in local law enforcement. Closer in, he recognized Craig Jordan and his FBI team among the rescue workers.
A cheer went up as he stepped into the headlights with Stella.
“Nice job, Armstrong,” Jordan said. “Where’s the clown who caused all this?”
“Waiting for someone to rescue him. Second floor hallway.”
“The bomb?”
Nate smiled. “Bomb squad needs to dispose of it, but it’s defused. Of course, Ashworth doesn’t know that.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “Useful. Thanks.” He motioned to his team and jogged down the street, calling to the bomb squad to follow him.
Nate strode to the waiting EMTs.
Stella’s arms tightened around his neck. “You’re coming with me?”
“Try and stop me, baby.”
She rested her head on his shoulder again. “I love you, Nate.”
He laid her on the waiting stretcher and sat with Stella in the back of the ambulance as they were transported to Vanderbilt. The EMT checked Stella’s vital signs and asked her questions. The medic worked around their clasped hands.
Nate understood. Without a countdown clock, it was impossible to know how much time remained. Couldn’t have been more than a minute at most. So close to losing the woman he loved more than life. A shudder ran over his body. Wouldn’t his teammates be astonished to see him now? The physical reaction blew his reputation for remaining unmoved by a crisis.
The next hours passed in a blur of activity. The medical technicians transported Stella to x-ray. When Rio insisted on accompanying her, Nate relaxed enough for the doctor to examine him.
“You need stitches, Mr. Armstrong,” the physician said. “You also have a concussion. I want to keep you overnight for observation.”
“As long as you put me in the same room as Marshal Grayson.” He grinned, joy surging. “We’re getting married in two weeks.”
“Ah. Congratulations, then. I’ll see what we can do about the room.”
Two hours later, he was settled in a chair at Stella’s bedside. He watched her beautiful but bruised face as she slept. Pain meds had knocked her out. On the other side of the bed, Rio sat in a second chair.
“Rest, Nate,” he murmured. “It’s the best thing for you both. I’ll keep watch in here. Josh is out in the hall. No one will get to either of you.”
Fatigue dragged at him. The adrenaline rush of the last few hours was gone, leaving behind utter exhaustion. He longed to stretch out on a bed, but he refused to leave his girlfriend’s side.
Stella moaned.
Nate perched on the side of the bed. He brushed strands of hair away from her discolored cheek. “You’re safe, sweetheart.”
“Stay with me.”
“Always. Rio and Josh will watch over both of us.”
She grasped his sleeve, tugged him down. “Rest with me,” she whispered.
Nate figured the nurse would send him back to the chair when she returned, but until then, he’d give his future wife what she asked for. He settled on his side and stretched out, head resting on the pillow beside hers. She laid her head on his shoulder and draped her arm across his side, the cast glowing white in the dim light.
Throughout the night, the nursing staff checked on both of them. To Nate’s surprise, no one insisted he move. As the first streaks of light brightened the sky, a soft knock on the door dragged Nate from the depths of sleep.
Josh pushed the door closed. “Jordan’s here.”
Stella stirred and pressed a kiss to Nate’s jaw. “Early for him.”
; “Late, actually. He hasn’t slept yet.”
Nate kissed Stella’s forehead, stood. “Send him in.” The sooner they worked through the legalities, the faster he could take Stella to Otter Creek to recuperate. He refused to leave her here. The reporters would hound her every time she left her apartment.
Jordan strode into the room, energized for a man who hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. “Jordan.”
“Armstrong. Marshal, how do you feel?”
“Like a truck ran over me. You look chipper this morning, Agent Jordan.”
He grinned. “Thanks to you and your boyfriend, Rick Ashworth will spend a long time in prison. With the information he’s providing, Manetti will never see the outside of a jail cell.”
A soft hand slipped into Nate’s. He threaded their fingers together. “What do you need from us?”
“Statements.”
Nate glanced at Stella. “Sweetheart?”
Her gaze shifted to the FBI agent. “May I leave town when I’m discharged?”
“The charges against you have been dropped. Stay available by cell in case I have further questions, but you’re free to go wherever you wish.” His lips curved. “I assume you’ll head to Otter Creek.”
“Smart man.” She waved him to the empty seat at the side of her bed. “Rio, I’d love a soft drink.”
“Any nausea this morning?” Receiving a head shake in answer to his question, he left the room in search of her drink.
Jordan grabbed his notebook and pen. “Take me through what happened after Riley was shot.”
For the next two hours, Nate and Stella answered Jordan’s questions. “Are Maya and Kayla safe?” Stella asked Rio.
“Still at Fortress headquarters,” Rio said. “When Jordan gives the all-clear, Maddox will bring them here to see Yates.”
“He’ll recover?”
“Physically,” Jordan said. “His career is gone and he’s facing prison time.”
