Protected in His Arms: An Elite SEAL Rescue (Texas Elite Seals Book 3)

by Holly Castillo

  He swept through the entire area surrounding Francis’s office but found nothing. He paused outside her door and looked at Evie’s desk, frowning at all the destruction of files, her file cabinet tossed on its side. She should have been there. What had happened? She told him she never left before the judge did. A new fear crept into his mind. What if the person who had attacked Francis had taken Evie?

  He checked under her desk and found it empty. Satisfied they were alone, he rushed into Francis’s office and froze for a moment, the horror of the scene making his world tilt and causing his stomach to flip. A box cutter with a sharp razor blade lay within one of her limp hands, and her arms were slashed from elbow to wrist. The amount of blood brought him to his knees.

  “Francis,” he choked out. Her eyes had been staring blankly at the ceiling but blinked slowly. “Francis!” He moved to her head and yanked his shirt off, tearing it in half and grabbing each arm, wrapping it tightly with the cloth. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you help.”

  Buzz appeared in the doorway and looked at the blood then Francis’s pale face, before looking to Santo. “I’m calling EMS right now. I’ll get Phantom.”

  “Thanks, bro.” Santo’s voice came out raw with emotion. He turned his attention back to Francis and their years of being such good friends, where she protected him like an older sister raced through his mind. She had been his family for so long, he couldn’t bear the idea of losing her.

  She tried to speak, her lips moving but no sound coming out. A nasty bruise had started to form on the right side of her head. “Don’t talk. Save your strength. You can talk as much as you want once we take care of you.”

  “Evie,” she whispered.

  Santo swallowed hard. “I know. She’s not here. It will all be okay.”

  She stared up at him and tears welled in her eyes. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her cry in his entire life. “I didn’t do this. Please believe me. I would never do this.”

  Santo smoothed her hair back away from her face. “Someone did this to you? Someone cut you like this?” Anger boiled in his veins.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I let it go too far. I thought I had more time. I’ve made far too many mistakes.”

  “Everything is going to be fine, Franny. You’re going to be fine. Stay strong for me.”

  Phantom rushed into the room and shook his head at the amount of blood on the floor. “How bad is it?”

  “She’s been cut from her elbow to her wrist. Straight down.” Santo kept his eyes glued to Francis’s face. Her eyelids began to droop and he cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t fall asleep, Francis. You have to stay awake.”

  “They’ve got a copter on its way from Laredo. It should be here in fifteen minutes.” Buzz delivered the news to Santo and Phantom.

  Phantom frowned as he peered under Santo’s torn shirt and examined the cuts still oozing blood. “She doesn’t have that much time.”

  “Yes, she does. She’s strong. She’s going to make it through this!” Santo refused to believe Francis could die.

  Phantom drew a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. We need to tighten the wraps on her arms. She’s still bleeding too much.”

  Santo nodded and helped Phantom wrap her arms so tight he feared they were hurting her. When they had finished Phantom leaned back and noticed the box cutter lying on the floor near them. “She did this to herself?”

  “No,” Santo said with conviction. “She’d never do such a thing. She just told me she didn’t. Someone wants us to believe she attempted suicide, but she didn’t.”

  Buzz stepped into the room. “I believe her. It’s obvious someone tried to search the place but ran out of time. We may have scared them away when we arrived. Every drawer I open seems to have been destroyed as if they were frantically searching for something. They should have thought of leaving the place like this before trying to stage her suicide.”

  Brusco and Lobo arrived and stood just outside the office and they took in the large amount of blood on the floor, their expressions grim. Santo’s gaze shot over to Brusco in question. “The guard is going to be okay. A nasty bump on his temple, but he’s alert and talking.”

  “And? What can he tell us?”

  Brusco shook his head. “A man he’s never seen before arrived thirty minutes ago. He knew the guy didn’t have good intentions and drew his gun, but the man blitzed him before he got the chance to get a shot off. He doesn’t remember anything after that.”

  Santo looked down at Francis’s face and saw a tear slip out of the corner of her eye. “I should have told you everything. But you’ll know it all very soon.”

  Santo frowned with confusion. “Who did this to you? Who came after you like this? Did he take Evie? Is she okay?” Santo wiped the tear off her face.

  “I don’t know. There are a lot of moving pieces. I don’t know who ordered the hit on me.”

  Santo’s mind whirled. Someone had ordered a hit on her? Which meant the attack hadn’t been by someone she knew personally. He swallowed hard as he stared at her face, her skin so pale it had become nearly translucent. “We’re going to go after whoever did this to you. I don’t care if it’s an entire army—we’re going to end them.”

  “They are an army,” she whispered.

  “What?” Santo shook his head. “You aren’t making any sense, Franny. Don’t try to talk anymore. You’ve got to conserve your energy.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Her eyelids drooped again and his heart hammered with fear. He couldn’t let her die in his arms. “Evie,” she whispered again. He leaned down and pressed his ear close to her lips. “Find her. You have to protect her.”

  Santo’s gut clenched. He desperately wanted to launch a search for Evie immediately, but Francis needed his full attention. The familiar sound of helicopter blades whirring above greeted his ears, giving him hope. “Guys, I need you to move the desk and make space for the medics,” Santo said urgently. Buzz and Brusco jumped into action, grabbing the desk while Lobo disconnected all the electrical wires. Within less than two minutes they had the desk out the door.

  Phantom darted out of the room to grab the medics and fill them in on what they were facing. Two medics rushed into the room and Santo moved so he kneeled next to Francis’s head. “Help is here, Franny. Everything will be okay.”

  “Francis?” one of the medics spoke soothingly to her. “Francis, stay with us, okay? We need to secure you and then we’re going to get you to the hospital and all patched up.”

  Another tear slid from the corner of her eye. Santo wiped it away and fear gripped him as her eyes closed fully. “Franny! Franny! Open your eyes. You can’t give up now. I won’t let you damn it!”

  “We’re losing her,” the second medic said, his fingers pressed against her neck.

  “Begin chest compressions,” the first medic said softly.

  Santo firmly cupped her face in his hands, willing her to open her eyes. “Don’t let go. Don’t let go,” he said. He couldn’t lose her. If she died, he didn’t care it meant he failed a SEAL mission. The fact he failed his dearest friend would destroy him.

  “We need to get her on the board and transport ASAP,” the second medic said.

  Santo moved back as they rolled her on the board and watched as the first medic continued chest compressions. The second medic looked at him. “Help me carry her out.” Santo nodded and grabbed the board, following the medic’s lead. Things moved so quickly he didn’t even remember climbing into the helicopter with them.

  Soon they were airborne and the two medics alternated between turns of chest compressions, constantly checking for a pulse, but every time they shook their heads. Twenty minutes later they landed and medical staff surrounded them, pushing Santo aside. He followed them into the emergency room and stood just outside the curtain, watching everyone moving rapidly.

  “Call it,” one of the doctors said.

  “Time of death—”

  “No!” Santo pushed
forward. “You can’t stop now! Don’t give up on her. You can’t…” An older nurse stepped in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

  “There’s nothing more that can be done,” she said gently, though her hands were firm as they pushed him backward. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  In the background he heard the doctor announce the time of death. He turned away as they pulled the sheet up over Francis’s face. He hated that the image of her pale, lifeless body would be the last he ever had of her. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to break something. He wanted to tear something apart. He wanted Evie safe and in his arms.

  He began to walk away and the nurse touched his arm, stopping him. “You can wash up in the nurse’s lounge, and I’ll get you a scrub shirt you can wear. Is there anyone coming to be with you?”

  “We’re already here,” Buzz’s voice penetrated the fog surrounding Santo’s brain. He turned to see his friend watching him, fighting his own emotions. They all had been hit hard. He looked past Buzz and saw the rest of the team standing in the waiting room, looking in his direction. They had all come to support him.

  “Snap brought a shirt for you to change into,” Buzz said softly, and began to hand it to Santo, then stopped. Santo looked down at his hands and saw they were covered in blood. Francis’s blood. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

  “I want to know who did this to her,” Santo said, his voice a harsh rasp against the emotions scraping his throat raw. “I want to find him, and I want to destroy him.”

  “We all do, brother. We all do.”

  Santo’s mind raced as he attempted to absorb everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. The image of Evie’s destroyed desk gripped him hard. “Evie.” His heart pounded furiously. He looked back at Buzz. “Whoever did this might have taken her. I need to find her!”

  “She might have gone home earlier, before—”

  “No. She always works late with Francis. She wouldn’t have left her.” He yanked his phone out of his back pocket and quickly found Evie’s number. He swiped the screen and pressed the phone to his ear, praying with every second that passed.

  “Hi there. I’ve been tempted to call you. I knew I’d cave far before Thursday.”

  Her calm, warm greeting jarred his system. “Where are you?”

  She hesitated briefly. “That’s an odd way to start our conversation. I was going to tell you, but—”

  “Where have you been? Why weren’t you with Francis tonight?” His previous fear for her safety began to evolve to anger. She had been the final stopping point for anyone trying to get at Francis. The logical part of his mind argued with him that she would probably be dead, too, if she had been at the courthouse, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

  “Judge O’Connor sent me on an assignment in Corpus. I had to leave yesterday.”

  “Where are you right now?” he asked and saw Buzz motioning for him to take the intensity in his voice down a little.

  “I’m still in Corpus. Why are you acting this way? I thought I’d be home by Thursday to see you, but after the mess I dealt with today, I’m afraid it may be a couple of weeks before they hire someone.”

  “You—what? You’re still in Corpus? You’re supposed to be with Francis. You’re supposed to be her last line of defense. How the hell could you take an assignment to leave her for so long?”

  “I didn’t know I needed to tell you the minute-by-minute details of my life. I wasn’t aware we’d come to that level with our relationship.” A hint of irritation edged into her voice, and he knew he had come at her too hard.

  “I didn’t think you ever helped anyone other than Francis. I thought you were there tonight…” He struggled to grasp everything. Just the day before, Francis gave Evie an assignment in Corpus, which took her away from her post outside Francis’s office. Could it be a coincidence for Francis to be brutally murdered the first day Evie didn’t hold her spot? His gut told him no.

  “Santo… You’re acting very strange. Why do you keep talking about Judge O’Connor? Has something happened?”

  He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and struggled with the right way to answer. Eventually, probably first thing in the morning, she would be told about what had happened. He knew it would be better for her to hear it from someone she knew. “She’s dead, Evie. I—I was with her up until the end. She’s gone.” Silence pulsed through the phone in response to his words. “Evie?”

  “Is this some type of sick joke?” He could tell she choked back tears as she spoke.

  “No. I wish it was. You have no idea how much I wish it was.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re wrong!”

  “Evie, I know it doesn’t seem possible… I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “Who did it? Who?” Her voice came close to a screech on the phone.

  “I don’t know. But I won’t rest until we have answers.”

  “Where… Where are you? Did she die in her office? Is that where you are?”

  “I think she died in the office. The medics tried to revive her, but pronounced her dead when we arrived at the hospital.”

  “I’m coming now. I need to… This just can’t be real.” She let out a soft sob. “I’m on my way.”

  “No, Evie, there’s nothing you can do now. Just stay there and try to get some rest and come here tomorrow.”

  “I am her power of attorney. We never thought…” He could hear her swallow hard. “I shouldn’t have needed to use it. But I need to be there, now. I need to be with her.”

  “I can help with all of that, Evie. I don’t want you driving in the state you’re in.”

  “No. I never should have left. I’m coming home.”

  Chapter 12

  Evie drove blindly, her mind racing with all the questions she’d planned to ask Judge O’Connor, and her gut twisted with fear that she knew the answers regardless. She had spent hours digging through the screenshots she’d downloaded from the judge’s computer, and each image built a more damning case. The judge had been actively engaged with criminals in Colombia, joining in their chats in a special room built within multiple firewalls. What had Evie shaken to her core, though, was that the room had been hidden within the game she loved to play on the dark web. All along, the judge and terrorists had been mingling right under her nose.

  She drove straight to the hospital in Laredo, knowing she needed to meet with the appropriate people to take care of arrangements for Judge O’Connor. When the judge had approached her nearly a year ago to become her acting power of attorney over all decisions to be made should she die, she had reluctantly agreed. It had been such an unusual request, and Evie didn’t think such a plan needed to be put into place. She wondered if the judge had known back then the danger she had been teasing with her amateur forays onto the dark web.

  She wanted to scream and pound her fists against the steering wheel, yet at the same time felt oddly calm. She had things to do, and she couldn’t succumb to her emotions. Who could she tell about everything she’d discovered Judge O’Connor had been involved in? She didn’t even know if the judge had been murdered. Santo had been vague on the phone. Every instinct in her body told her she’d been murdered, though. Too many things seemed to fall into line with that theory.

  A chill slid down her spine as she remembered a critical piece of the information she’d come across. Her name had been linked in some of the conversations. The terrorists knew about her, though the comments had been sidebar mentions of her connections within the court system of the United States. Did they want to use her? Did they want to kill her? Who could she trust with all of the delicate information she had and feel safe they’d protect her at the same time?

  She called Judge Mitchell as she drove, forcing herself to maintain her composure. She hadn’t noticed the hour and apologized profusely when she realized her call woke up the district judge. “I won’t be in tomorrow morning. I’ll need a few days… But I’ll be
back as soon as possible.”

  “Evie, I don’t understand. You just started today. We need you in the office. Why can’t you come in?”

  “Judge O’Connor is dead.”

  All signs of sleepiness vanished from her voice. “What? What are you talking about? That’s insane!”

  “I know. I don’t know what happened. A-a friend of mine in Hebbronville called me and told me. He was with her when she passed. I’m her power of attorney, so I have to make all of the arrangements. I have to go home.”

  “Yes, yes. I-I completely understand. Do you know… Does your friend know how she died?”

  Evie found it telling that Judge Mitchell would ask such a thing. If she had gathered her information correctly, the district judge could be just as heavily mixed up in things as Judge O’Connor had been. “I don’t know yet. I could barely understand what little he said before I ran out the door.”

  “You’re driving there now? Oh, Evie, honey… I’m so sorry.”

  Evie choked back her emotions. “Thank you. I’m sorry for you, too. I know you two were close friends.”

  “We were. Stay in touch, Evie. I’d like to make it to the funeral, if possible.”

  The idea of a funeral nearly made her fall apart, so she signed off the call and focused on the road. When she made it to the Laredo hospital, she didn’t waste any time trying to gather her emotions in her car. She drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and dug the power of attorney documents out of her glove box where she’d shoved them haphazardly the day the judge had asked her to sign them. She’d given them so little thought then, but they felt like they weighed a ton in her hands.

  Keeping her back ram-rod straight, she stepped through the doors and the heavy antiseptic smell of the hospital struck her hard. She swallowed and headed for the first occupied desk she could find. A woman close to her age looked up from the desk, blinked a few times, then notified her that visiting hours were over.