by J. L. Drake
Abigail leans over, rubbing my back as I fall forward onto my thighs.
“We don’t know all the details, but the guys are in pretty bad shape and have been ordered to return to the house once they’ve been checked out by the medic in Washington.”
“They…they left him there?” I whisper, hot tears coursing down my cheeks.
Keith looks at me and presses his lips together.
“Frank is now in charge,” Daniel says in an eerie voice, “since Cole isn’t able—” He stops himself, taking a deep breath. “They’re coming home, and that’s an order from Frank. They don’t have a choice, Savannah.”
“Yes, they do!” I shout through my tears. “What about Cole? What if they—” My hand covers my mouth. Another loud sob escapes as I stand, feeling sick and lightheaded. “Please make them go back.” I turn to Keith, crying out every word. “Please, please, Keith, please, make them go back and find him. I want him back. He needs to come back!”
“I’m sorry, Savannah. It’s out of my control.” Keith’s eyes plead with me to understand.
I back up toward the door. I feel claustrophobic—the walls closing in and the ceiling lowering. I need to get away. Everyone is watching me. Some stand and approach, but I hold up a hand, warning them off. I just want Cole back. I bump into Derek, who’s now standing in my path. I hear Sue say to Daniel that I should calm down. How can I calm down when they are telling me that Cole is being held captive? Not when the father of our baby is being held against his will. No, I need to get out of here…now.
The look I give Derek makes him move aside. Dr. Roberts calls out for me, but I hear nothing but the door handle turning. I move without thinking up to my room, punch the keypad on the wall, and drop onto the pillows in Sue’s private library. I curl up, passing out immediately. My thoughts quickly return to when I was held safe and sound in his arms. Yes, it’s only a dream, but I’ll take what I can get.
Sue finds me sometime later with Keith’s help. She slowly lowers herself to the floor.
I’m awake, facing away from her. I ache too much to move.
She lies behind me and wraps her arm around my mid-section, holding my hand in hers.
I sob, desperately needing a mother, and she sobs, desperately needing a child to hold.
She holds on while we both go through a roller coaster of emotions. We fall asleep and wake several hours later, feeling drained and in need of some water.
We decide to go for a walk, neither wanting to be alone.
Keith and Daniel are working away in Cole’s office. We don’t want to disturb them, so we head outside for some fresh air. We don’t talk about anything important, just mindless jabber when the pain becomes too much. I’m thankful for Sue needing me as much as I need her. She is fast becoming my rock. Thank God for her and Abigail. I don’t know what I would do without them.
I flinch when she does. We hear it before we see it, and the noise of the rotor makes my heart pound. I turn to see the black helicopter flying low over the mountains behind us. As it descends, it kicks up snow to swirl around us. I squeeze her hand, knowing how hard this is going to be.
She tugs my arm, and we head back toward the house.
We’re almost to the porch when the SUV stops next to us. Keith comes to my side.
The doors open, and Paul gets out first. He’s struggling to stand up straight.
John is next. He goes to Paul’s side, grabs his bag, then wraps his arm around Paul’s waist to stabilize him.
Mark keeps his head down as he comes into view. His body language makes me uncomfortable. I notice not one of them has made eye contact with me.
Keith motions for us to come inside.
Sue never lets go of my hand as we slump down onto the couch, waiting for them to join us.
They drop their bags and carefully make their way in. Daniel helps John sit Paul on the couch. His leg is in a small brace, making it hard for him to move around.
Mark’s arm is in a sling tied tightly to his chest, and he’s like a robot making his way to his seat. He sits and stares at the floor. I’m not even sure if he knows we are all here with him.
“Here.” Daniel sets Mark’s drink on the table and stands by the fire. I notice Mark doesn’t reach for it. We all wait while the guys gather themselves.
“Nothing went according to plan.” Paul’s voice is quiet. “The moment we entered the house, it all went to shit.”
My stomach is in knots. I want to yell out, “What the fuck happened? Where is Cole?” But I don’t. Instead, I sit and stare at Mark, who still hasn’t raised his head.
“A maid caught us as we moved through the kitchen. She dropped her tray, and one of their men saw us.”
“There were so many of them,” John says, clearing his throat. “My radio got busted when three of them jumped me. I managed to get away and went to our next location, but no one came, so I went back to the last spot I’d seen Paul in the dining room. I found a safe spot and tried to fix my radio, but it was done.”
“After I got a knife to the leg, I found cover in a closet. Thirty minutes later, Cole found me,” Paul says.
I break my gaze from Mark and look at Paul.
“He saw my leg and told me Mark had a bullet wound. He said we were to abort the mission. That’s when he left, looking for John.”
John rubs his head. “We got stopped on our way over to get them. Cole took one man down and sent me ahead to get the guys out. I met Paul and Mark in the hall, and we headed for the door. The last thing I heard was a gunshot and a Cartel falling down the stairs. I glanced back when we were running for our check-in point. I-I—” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t see him.”
My head starts to prickle, my eyes feel fuzzy, and my hands go cold as I listen.
“We waited for him.” Paul takes over because John is barely holding it together. “We waited all night and into the morning. We fixed each other up as best we could and called in for support. By the time they came, the place was cleared out. We were ordered to return here until further notice.”
My eyes shift around the room, trying to absorb what we’re being told. I want so much to yell at them to go back, but I can see they’re as raw as I am. They had to leave a man behind—their Colonel, their friend, and brother. I can’t imagine.
Suddenly, I feel a horrible cramping pain in my stomach, one that matches the pain from the gaping hole in my heart. I wrap my arms around my mid-section as my face breaks out in sweat.
“Savi?” Keith kneels in front of me. “You need to calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down!” I repeat as the anger burns through me. I stand and feel the pain wrap around my middle.
“Yes, Savannah,” Daniel warns, but I don’t know what they’re getting at.
I back away, running both hands through my hair, tears streaming down my face. My chest feels like it’s going to explode. I raise my arms wide. “You want me to calm down while Cole is sitting in a prison somewhere, or six feet—” I stop, closing my eyes. I feel everyone staring at me. I drop my arms, hitting my legs with a thud. I turn on my heel and head for my room, where I curl up in a ball to ease the pain in my stomach and cry myself to sleep.
Cole
Cole gasps as one of the men sticks his finger in the large gash across his torso. Over the last two days, he has been tortured by some very imaginative assholes. The electric shocks, waterboarding, and whippings haven’t broken him yet. The two rats in front of him seem to be growing bored. They leave him hanging by his wrists from a chain, his feet a foot off the ground. His shoulders have lost any feeling long ago. The pain he should be feeling is blocked by long hours training to turn that part of the brain off.
He watches as they walk down the hallway, forgetting to shut the door. He takes the opportunity to listen to all the sounds in the little house. He concentrates on trying to remember the steps from when he arrived. Eleven steps from the Land Rover, three steps past the doorway, fourteen to the bedroom. He hears a TV
turn on, and the opening of twist-off beers. He closes his eyes and slips into meditation mode, taking this time to rest so he will be mentally strong enough when they decide to come at him again.
A bright light burns into his closed eyelids. Cole senses he’s not alone.
A shadow moves in front of his face, and the sound of nails on tile sparks a memory. Savannah’s description of The American’s boots. Cole plays like he’s passed out, hoping to gather something from him.
“So, this is the famous Colonel Cole Logan,” The American says in perfect English.
“Si, señor,” a man’s voice answers.
“How many men did his team kill?”
“Veintiocho.”
Yeah, motherfucker. Twenty-eight down, a billion more rats to go.
“And he’s not talking?”
“No.”
“I think I may know how to fix that.”
Two footsteps later, he gets a hard punch to the stomach.
“Time to wake up, Colonel,” The American says sharply.
Cole coughs and struggles to catch his breath, then leans forward, taking in what the man is wearing. His signature black and white suit, a cowboy hat, and his ridiculous cowboy boots with the gold-headed cobra sticking out at the tips.
“At last, we finally meet after all these years,” he says.
Cole keeps silent and watches him, studying his movements. He has a slight limp in the right leg, and he keeps tilting his head to the left like his neck is hurting.
“So, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer it. Where is my Savannah?”
It takes everything in Cole’s body not to react.
The American nods and fixes his left shirt cuff. “So, short term physical torture doesn’t seem to bother you. I wish we had more time, but sadly, we don’t.” He taps his mouth with his finger. “I wonder how strong you are mentally.” He smirks. “Mr. Donovan, would you please join us?”
Cole’s gaze moves to the door when he hears footsteps.
It only takes a moment to realize who it is. A wheel of photos flicker through Cole’s memory, the most recent from when they were doing surveillance on the house and this guy showed up. A navy blue suit on his wiry body, with a cream-colored cloth bag over his head is hard to forget.
“I take it you recognize me?” he asks, smirking.
“I do,” Cole grunts.
“You see, Colonel, we have a problem. You screwed up a very important business deal for me.” He moves closer. “This can be very easily fixed if you would just give me Ms. Miller.”
Cole has an idea. He rotates his shoulder and flops his head around like he’s losing consciousness.
Mr. Donovan looks at The American. “Can you at least put him in a chair or something?” He points to Cole’s stomach. “This is offensive to me. I don’t need to see this all stretched and bloody.”
The American shakes his head slowly, annoyed, but calls for the men to come. “Don’t try anything,” The American says, sticking a 40mm in Cole’s face as the men release the pulley system and lower him into a wooden chair. They keep his hands and feet bound, but don’t tie him to the chair. He notices one of them is wearing a longhorn belt buckle. The horns look more like a weapon than a decoration.
A dull ache runs through him as he starts to feel the beating his body took, but he relishes the fact that his plan worked and he was released from the ceiling. His mind slips back into survival mode as he sits, his body starting to build strength as the seconds tick by.
“Now,” Mr. Donovan says as he takes a seat in front of him, “where’s the girl?”
Cole moves his tongue around his mouth. Tasting tin, he spits to his side…yup, blood. He looks over at the man, taking his time answering. “Why the girl?”
“Do you know who I am?” He leans forward in his chair. “I mean, really know who I am?”
“Luka Donovan, the mayor’s assistant.”
“Correct. I’ve known the mayor’s daughter for a long time,” he says, smiling at Cole.
Cole smiles back, but for a very different—much more violent—reason.
“You see, the mayor is up for reelection. The numbers are good, but due to his daughter’s constant fuck-ups, they’re not great. So, a change was necessary.” He leans back and shakes his head. “I never would have been able to pull it off if it wasn’t for Lynn.”
Cole always suspected Savannah’s best friend, but could never connect the dots.
“Savannah trusted her more than anyone,” he continues conversationally. “So, when Lynn and I met for dinner and she agreed she could get a customer of hers to pose as a prospective client who could lure her ‘friend’ down to the parking lot at the right time, it was perfect.”
“Joe Might?” Cole interrupts.
Luka nods with a shrug. “You see, Colonel, much like in your profession, I, too, meet a lot of shady people. You start to learn things. Like money doesn’t always buy you what you want, but a pretty face and a smoking body like Savannah’s can.”
Before Cole even thinks about what he is doing, he lunges forward, plowing Luka off his chair and into the wall.
Luka grunts as the wind is knocked out of him.
Cole elbows him in the face and knees him in the stomach just as he feels a hard crack between his shoulder blades. He drops to the ground, and the butt of the gun collides with his temple. The pain doesn’t register as he tries to get back up, but The American sticks the gun in his face, and he freezes.
“Make one more move, and I’ll blow your head off,” he hisses.
Cole closes his eyes, teeth grinding loudly, no doubt trying to calm himself.
“Get him out of here!”
Two men grab hold of Cole, and another keeps his gun in his face.
He sees Luka in a ball on the floor, moaning and holding his stomach. He tries to force himself to control his thoughts, as the deadly violence in them will probably get him killed if he doesn’t. Handcuffing him to a water pipe in a small closet and slamming the door closed, they leave him alone in the dark. Cole shifts and leans his head against his hands, using pressure to stop the bleeding from his temple. He lets out a long sigh and thinks of all the ways he could escape. He just needs to get his hands on a weapon.
A small breeze of cool air next to where the pipe meets the wall draws his attention. He lines his eye up with the one-inch hole, and he can see outside. There are lights about twenty yards away. He must be in a small town. He turns back around when he hears footsteps, then muffled voices and a loud crack, followed by a thump. The light under his door goes dark as something is dragged outside the room. He shakes his head, not eager to know.
He pulls at the pipe to test its strength. He leans back, kicking at the base of it, but it’s no use. “Fuck!” he whispers to himself, resting his head against the wall. He needs sleep. He closes his eyes, but all he can think about is Savannah. She must be beside herself right now. His chest hurts at the thought of her. He knows she will be devastated to find out Luka and Lynn are behind her kidnapping.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cole
“Wake up!” Luka kicks him in the ribs. “I said wake up!”
Cole opens his eyes, even though he’s been awake most of the night. He dismisses the pain in his ribs and smirks when he sees Luka is sporting a black and blue goose egg over his eye.
Luka glares down at him. Closing the door, he pulls up a chair and sits, watching Cole. “I heard you were one tough Green Beret. Hell, you became a Colonel at thirty. You must really be something,” he croons. “But, you see, Colonel, everyone has a weak spot.” He leans back and crosses his legs. “And last night you showed me yours.” He smirks. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Her long, silky hair, her tan skin, those dark eyes that seem to pull you in, that slender body with just the right amount of curves…mmm, so lovely.” He shakes his head like he’s remembering something. “I don’t think there’s a man in that office who didn’t dream about screwing her
.”
Cole’s jaw muscle twitches as the adrenaline rushes throughout his body.
“I can see you’ve fallen under her spell too, which explains why you won’t give up her location. Don’t waste your time.” He laughs. “She has a pistol personality, a gatekeeper guarding her heart, and she doesn’t open her legs for anyone.”
The wave of emotion that hits Cole is unreal. He actually finds himself grinning on the inside and the corners of his mouth tugging on the outside. Yes, he found his way to Savannah’s heart. Now he just needed to get back.
“Sounds like you’re interested too?” Cole murmurs, hoping to get more detail about the kidnapping.
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I like my job too much to touch that, so I settled for the best friend.”
Cole rolls his eyes; what a prick. “Tell me something, Luka.” Cole shifts, resting his forearms on his bent knees. “How did you locate someone to kidnap Savannah?”
Luka chuckles. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to find someone willing to remove my little problem. A word here, a word there, and I had a few offers, but when Los Sirvientes Del Diablos approached me, we soon had a deal. She was nabbed and taken to Tijuana. She was supposed to be killed within a week, but then this guy,” he points over his shoulder and out the door, indicating The American, “got in touch with them and made his own deal. He wanted Savannah for himself but agreed to wait until the ransom money came through.” He pauses, leaning forward. “There are rules, you know. You can’t just come in and take her. He had to wait until it was a done deal.”
Fuck, this guy is a talker and a real asshole. Cole is going to enjoy fucking up his face.
“But then Los Sirvientes Del Diablos got greedy. They got in contact with the mayor, saying they have his daughter, and that someone else was interested in her, so whoever pays the most gets the girl.” Luka removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “The mayor didn’t react the way I thought he would. I swear he was relieved she was gone. His own daughter! His polls were climbing. He started dating a woman.” His voice softens. “Don’t get me wrong, Colonel, he loves Savannah, but she just wouldn’t climb aboard the campaign wagon, and a man has his priorities.” He sighs loudly.
