“Where’s the women?”
Again with the blank stare.
“Where are the women?” he repeated his question slower. Gray knew he was speaking Arabic fluently.
“Only one woman.” The man pointed at a door. “She needs water. She’s hurt.”
“Take me to her,” Gray demanded.
The man stumbled forward, looking over his shoulder at Gray’s submachine gun.
“Hurry up.”
When he got to the door, he pulled at the key ring attached to his belt and unlocked the door. They were met by silence and darkness.
Please let her be alive.
He shoved the big man to the deck and felt for the light in the little room. He hit the switch, immediately scanning the floor. Which was when he saw her bare, dirty feet dangling in front of him.
Gray grabbed her around her hips, and she moaned.
Thank God that she had moaned, it told him she was alive. He looked up and saw her gaze down at him through swollen eyelids. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes, all he could see was blood where the whites of her eyes should have been.
Gray couldn’t tell which woman it was. He looked at her hair. The strands were so dank, matted and sweat-soaked, that he couldn’t tell if it was Kelley’s brown hair or Chantelle’s blond hair.
“Miss, I’m with the United States Navy. I’m going to get you out of here.”
They had her tied to one of the pipes that ran across the ceiling. Her hands were swollen and dried blood coated her wrists. Gray pulled out his knife and cut her down. She collapsed over his shoulder, and he laid her gently onto the floor. He put his fingers to her neck. Her pulse was weak.
“Aiden. You got anything?” he growled into his mic.
“Nada,” his second-in-command answered immediately.
“Get your ass down to the tank deck. Got one of the women. She’s in really bad shape.”
“Roger.”
She whimpered, it was so low he almost thought he’d imagined it.
“We’re going to get you out of here.” He saw the incomprehension on her face.
Tenderly he cupped her cheek. “Safe. You’re safe now.”
“Give me a report,” Dex said quietly into his ear.
“I don’t know which woman it is. She’s bad, Dex.”
“Fuck,” he heard Griff whisper sadly in his ear.
He watched a tear track down her face.
Gray sprang up and found the man slumped outside the door. He hadn’t moved a muscle. When he saw the rage in Gray’s face he covered his head with his hands and begged for mercy. “Not me. It wasn’t me,” he wailed.
“But you knew, didn’t you? You heard?”
“Faizon. It was him. Him and his son.”
“But you heard,” Gray reiterated.
Gray kicked him. Hard. He grabbed the undershirt that was beside the man and ripped it up, quickly gagging and hogtieing him, like he had the other engine mechanic.
“Where is she?” Aiden asked as Gray finished tying the mechanic up.
The big blond man was by his side, and Gray led him inside the room. Aiden was on his knees next to the injured woman before Gray could even blink.
He heard a spurt of gunfire over his receiver. “Found the other guard,” Hunter said.
“She’s bad,” Aiden said. He pulled out a kit from his small waterproof pack. He rolled it out and inserted a needle into a vial, carefully measuring out some liquid.
“Can’t give her too much,” Aiden muttered to Gray. His friend’s eyes told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t going to make it if they didn’t get her to a hospital…fast.
Gray and Aiden’s heads shot up as they heard a woman’s screams. Both of them looked at the woman on the floor who was barely conscious, then realized it was coming over their receiver.
“Hunter, get to the upper deck. I’m at the bow. In the most forward cabin. Get here yesterday,” Griff ground out. “I’ve got the Ambassador’s daughter.”
At least Gray now knew that Aiden was caring for Chantelle.
“Anybody else?” Dex asked.
“Two pukes stupid enough to still be begging for help. They’re nothing but corpses, who’re taking too long to die.”
Griff had never sounded like that before. Never. Aiden glance snared Gray’s. This was not good.
“Hunter, you there yet?” Gray demanded.
“Griff, I’m almost with you,” Hunter said, by way of answer. “Keep it together.” Gray could hear Hunter Diaz’s heavy breathing as he swiftly ran toward Griff and whatever mess he had found.
“What’s the status of the girl?” Dex asked Griff.
Good for Dex, get Griff’s mind off the two men.
Another scream came over Gray’s receiver.
“Ahhh, God,” Hunter’s voice was anguished.
“Help me,” Griff said above the woman’s cries.
“Dammit, Hunter. Griff. I want a status now.” Gray appreciated how Dex was keeping command of the situation.
“She’ll make it,” Hunter said.
Who was he reassuring? Griff?
The screaming began to lose volume, but that somehow made it worse.
What the hell was going on?
Gray turned his head and crouched down beside Aiden. He couldn’t do anything about Emily Hoag, so he would concentrate on the woman he could help.
“Was the bridge clear?” he asked Aiden.
Aiden gave him a side eye look, then went back to working on Chantelle’s hands. He had bandaged her wrists, now he was rubbing circles on her palms, and twining his fingers between hers, trying to restore circulation. Even with the morphine running through her system, she was moaning in pain. But the sounds she was making were nothing compared to the high-pitched shrieks coming from Emily.
“Lieutenant, at your six,” Dalton called. Gray heard him in stereo. He stood up and opened the door to the engine store room. He saw his man bent over one of the men Gray had tied up. It looked like he was regaining consciousness. Dalton had picked up some rope in his travels and was attaching the man to one of the pumps.
“Get this guy, too,” Gray said, pointing to the guy slumped near the door. Dalton nodded.
“All decks are cleared. We’re good to go now that we have the women,” Dalton reported as he moved to tie up the next man.
“Dex?” Gray spoke into his mic.
“No can do,” Dex answered his question before he posed it. “The only safe way to bring the yacht close to shore is the marina at Dana Beach resort. If you tried going to shore any other way you’d rip out the bottom of the boat. But the resort is out, because it’s too crowded. There’s a wedding going on, you’ll be spotted. Your only option is our initial plan for you to meet up here.”
“Aiden, can you stabilize her for the swim back?”
“We don’t have to swim,” Dalton said as he came into the room. “Since we’ve overtaken the yacht, it doesn’t matter what we do. Normally I’d throw up at the sight of the world’s most overpriced lifeboats that I swear have leather seating, but I’m thanking God for them right now for these two ladies.”
Gray nodded. “Get them ready.”
Dalton nodded and disappeared.
“Did you hear that Griff? Will that work?” Gray asked.
“It’ll have to,” Hunter answered. “We’ll get her there. We’re over our time.”
“I can’t do a fireman’s carry,” Aiden told Gray. “She has at least two broken ribs.”
“You’re not carrying her. I am. You need to get up to Griff and Hunter and see what’s going on with Emily. I’ve got Chantelle.”
Aiden had his kit packed up before Gray finished talking.
“Guys,” Gray said. “Aiden is aiming for the two of you. How can he help?”
There was a pause. Then Hunter whispered. “She needs to be knocked out. She’s fighting us. She’s out of her mind with fright and I can’t blame her. There’s not one of us who could talk her down right
now after what those animals did to her.”
“Are they dead?” Dex snarled.
“Griff took care of them. They’re still hanging on. They’re going to die bad.”
Aiden, Dalton and Dex all said “Good,” simultaneously.
Gray picked up Chantelle. “Did you grab the port or the starboard lifeboat?” he queried Dalton.
“Starboard.”
“Men, I’m taking Chantelle to starboard. Dalton’s with me. The rest of you go to the port lifeboat.”
“I’ll head there as soon as Aiden arrives,” Hunter said.
Chantelle stirred in his arms. “Emily?” she whispered. “Where’s Emily?”
“She’s alive,” Gray assured her as he weaved his way around the different pumps and tanks toward the stairs. He saw tears trailing down her face.
“Hurt,” she whimpered.
“I know it hurts, Miss. We’re going to get you to a hospital.”
Gray juggled with the door knob, and tried to shoulder the door open at the same time she lifted her hand in the air and waved it in front of his face. “Not me. Hurt Emily.”
“I’ve got the boat. It’s midship on the lower deck. We’ll load up and winch us onto the water.”, Hunter said.
“Got it,” Gray said. Even though he was walking fast, he did his best not to jostle Chantelle as he made his way up the stairs to the lower deck. He finally heard Aiden with Griff.
“Hold her still,” Aiden barked. It had to be a shit situation, but Griff needed to lay hands on the woman in order to help her. Her scream of terror was heartbreaking. “I’ll take her,” Aiden said after a long moment.
Yep, a shitty situation.
* * *
Gray’s boat was the first one to reach land. He didn’t know how he’d done it, but by the time he got Chantelle to the truck, he found that Dex had some of the softest pillows and blankets imaginable.
“Where’d you get these?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Fuck, no wonder he knew there’d been a wedding at the resort.
Chantelle was unconscious, and her breathing was labored, but no blood bubbles. Her fingers were pink, so that was a blessing. Gray left her in the truck with Dalton. He was the second best medic on the team.
Hunter and Aiden were pulling the boat to shore. Griff held Emily in his lap. There had only been one time Gray had seen Griff look this broken up, and that was when Miranda had been close to death. Gray waded beside the boat and held out his arms. He saw that she was wrapped up in a bed spread.
“Hand her to me, so you can get out of the boat. Okay?”
“She’s so young,” Griff said.
“You’ve done enough. It’s time for the rest of us to take care of her. Give her to me, I promise she’ll be safe,” Gray said.
Griff hesitated only a moment. “I know you will, man. It’s just that her eyes are the exact color as Livvie’s,” he said, referring to his daughter. The blanket slipped as he handed the girl over to Gray. Her soft, naked shoulder was exposed.
Gray’s worst fears were confirmed. He gently took the young woman out of Griff’s arms, and gave Griff a nod of approval.
Griff sighed. His glance cut over to the big, blond Irishman. “I’m sorry, Aiden.”
“Sorry’s aren’t allowed,” Aiden said as he clapped his hand on Griff’s shoulder. “I’ll take good care of her. Of both of them.”
“We need to get them over to Bahrain,” Griff said as he walked to shore beside the other men.
“Please tell me we don’t have to deal with Dickweed.” Hunter said.
“The Dickster had new papers worked up. It was an immediate reassignment to Libya. He’s in route right now,” Dex said from where he stood at the tailgate of the truck. “Baker is clearing the way for us on our return trip.”
“You arrange that?” Hunter asked Dex.
“Nope, it was our boy Wyatt.”
Gray felt his shoulders relax. He watched Aiden hand Emily up to Dalton, then he hopped into the back of the truck. Gray turned to look at Griffin Porter.
“Are you—”
Griff waved his hand. “I’ve got my shit together. Hunter made sure the father and son were dead before we left.”
“Good. That’s good.” No matter how satisfying a long drawn-out gut shot might have been, Gray wanted them dead.
“Everybody good?” Hunter called from the cab of the truck.
“Hold your fucking horses.” Dex shoved up the tailgate with one hand. His other was cuddling his laptop to his chest. Seriously, it was amazing that Kenna got pregnant considering Dex’s affinity to that thing.
“Livvie has a blanket that she carries around like that,” Griff grinned at Gray. “She calls it her dit-dit.”
“Dex, what’s your computer’s nickname?” Gray called out. He could feel even Dalton and Aiden were listening for Dex’s answer as he slammed the door to the passenger seat.
“I’ve heard him call it Honey,” Hunter said.
“Damn right I do.” Dex’s voice was filled with pride. “She’s a Honey Badger. This computer has lived through explosions, and has taken down terrorists. She’s tough as hell, and doesn’t give two shits what you have to say about her, she’ll just keep on, keeping on.”
Gray loved the sound of his team starting to laugh. He could have sworn that he heard Chantelle give a low snort of laughter.
8
Miranda had said today, that tonight was the night. The men were going to be home. But still nothing. Riya felt like she was going to climb out of her skin. She reached for her moisturizer then set it back down on the nightstand with a thump. Einstein raised his head and blinked.
“Deal with it,” she told the cat.
She didn’t like this. She wasn’t happy, not at all.
She took a deep breath, then another. Better. Not good, but better. At least her skin wasn’t itching. It had been eight days since Gray had left on his mission with his team. The longest eight days of her life. She flung back the covers and shoved out of bed. Einstein gave out a half-hearted meow. He was getting used to her scattered sleep pattern.
And here she’d thought that work issues were problematic. She hadn’t had a clue. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this.
Riya padded to the bathroom and ran cold water into the sink. She pushed back her tousled braid and bathed her face. She looked at herself in the mirror. Yep, she still had the bruises under her eyes. It was the days of worry and being scared about something that she had no power over.
“You can’t do anything about it, so being upset is useless,” she told her reflection.
Yeah, like repeating that again would help.
Einstein rubbed his head against her calf. She blinked fast, her eyes gritty at the thought that her cat was trying to give her comfort.
“You’re a good kitty.” She looked down at him and wished he was young again so she could pick him up and cuddle him. But he didn’t like that anymore.
She continued to stare at Einstein, anything to stop her from looking at herself in the mirror. She didn’t want to witness herself falling apart. Riya closed her eyes and rested her hip against the bathroom counter, letting images of Gray float behind her eyelids. Gray’s smile, his intense looks, his arms around her, his kisses, him holding her, his breath against her temple, the comfort he provided.
Gray Richard Tyler.
Just Gray.
Please God, let him be safe.
She opened her eyes and stretched her neck, anything to release her tension, trying to figure out how she could be overreacting so badly. She’d been working with Miranda for seventeen months and met Griff more than a few times. She’d watched the two of them play with their daughter. Riya really liked the man. Sure, she’d been concerned when he’d been deployed, but that’d been the extent of it. What’s more, Miranda had seemed fine. Surely, Miranda hadn’t gone through this kind of torment. Not the bone-wrenching, trouble eating, not sleeping, poison-ivy-itching fear.<
br />
Riya leaned forward and rested her head against the mirror. Her breath created fog and she leaned back and watched as her finger drew a heart on the mirror.
“Finish it.”
She wrote G.R.T. and R.N.P. inside the heart. Yep, she was over the moon for this man. She was so far past the point of in love…was there a term that was more encompassing than love?
She rubbed her chest and tried to shove back the fear and the tears. This needed to stop. She bit her lip.
Please let him be as good as Miranda said, as good as I think he is, because I need him to come home. To me.
Riya left the bathroom depleted. She found herself scratching her elbow and plucked the moisturizer off her nightstand as she tried to think of a distraction. The only solution was work. It had helped her out just a little bit the first four days that Gray had been on his mission. She walked past the destroyed bed, and went downstairs.
She snagged her bag pack and considered her computer tablet, but then pulled out the new composition notebook she’d begun writing in when she’d returned to San Diego. She fished out a pencil then went and sat cross-legged on the love seat. Einstein deigned to jump up and push up beside her and lick himself.
“Still worried about me, huh?” Einstein just blinked and yawned.
Riya opened up the notebook and looked over what she’d documented the last three days since she’d come home from Washington. She thought about the argument she’d had with the Lieutenant General in charge of the project at the Pentagon right before he’d ousted her from the project.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, Sir. Someone has developed an airborne toxin that has the ability to affect only the Y chromosome. Obviously they’re intending to take it to the next logical stage.”
Riya could see the steam pouring out of her temporary boss’s ears. “English, explain this to me in English,” he’d said.
“Think of the applications. They’ve figured out a way to isolate a poison so it just impacts a man, while totally bypassing a woman. I can only imagine they’re going to try to pinpoint this down to other criteria like ethnicities, maybe even specific gene pools.”
Her Captivated Hero: A Black Dawn Novel Book 6 Page 9
