Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Insanity.
Just like back in Buck’s RV, with Saylor’s photos plastered across the wall. That same sense of disbelief before his anger had settled in. Replaced the shock with cold determination. Only this time, it might not be enough.
Zain fired off two rounds, punching one through the other boat’s windshield before the craft dodged right, his next shot missing wide. “Chase. Saylor’s got her hands full. Try to get Foster on the radio. We need serious backup.”
He fired again, missing when the other boat disappeared behind a massive swell. “I thought you said it was suicidal to chance this storm?”
Saylor glanced behind her, weaving through the waves, bouncing over one, then dropping into the next.
“It is, which is why I was willing to sacrifice my boat to hitch a ride on the chopper. I can only imagine Maddox’s paying them an obnoxious amount of money.
Or maybe he has damning intel on them, and they don’t want him to squeal. ”
“Which means they’ve got nothing to lose.”
She dodged right, scooting under a curling wave, shooting out the other side as the tail end splashed across the stern. The other boat backed off, circling around a few of the larger breakers before picking up their line, again.
Chase stepped in close, one hand white knuckled around the console. “Foster’s on his way, but apparently it’s bad .”
Zain cringed. “He actually used that word? Called it bad?”
“I know. Twenty years flying with the guy, and he never once said it was bad. Epic, sure. Deadly a few times. But never bad. Not even the night Sean died.”
“Which means it’s pretty freaking terrible up there.”
Saylor snorted. “Hate to break it to you guys, but it’s not any better down here.” She glanced at them. “Everyone exchanged their ballistic vest for a life vest, right?”
Chase rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment. “It this situation, we’re opting for both.”
“Just be sure you can shimmy out of the Kevlar if we go over. That shit’ll weigh you down.”
“Great.” Chase covered her when another round of bullets whizzed past. “You’re a damn sitting duck manning the helm. And you left your vest on the Nexus. ”
Saylor looked back, huffed. “Then, let’s see what this asshole’s made of.”
She killed the lights, then veered off, heading for a series of immense swells, riding them like a damn surfboard before ducking under the spray — dipping into the next.
The bastard piloting the other boat followed, nearly capsizing when he timed his exit wrong — got caught up in another massive trough.
Saylor used the brief pause to circle around, hiding their position in the large swells as she worked her way to their stern.
Zain shook his head, staring through his scope.
All he needed was a hint of a target, and he’d knock out their engines.
Maybe punch a hole in their gas tank. The Zodiac bounced across the surface, each impact spraying more water across the floorboards.
What looked like an alarming amount considering the conditions.
Did the excess water hamper how the boat reacted?
Make the controls sluggish? Had she even noticed?
Because she looked calm. Calm and determined and so freaking beautiful his chest hurt. The way she maneuvered the Zodiac as if she sensed how the water moved a second before it shifted. Knew exactly how far to push the cresting waves before they curled over the boat, instead.
The engines whined, the rain getting impossibly harder when the other boat bobbed into view.
Zain focused on the engines, anticipating when the vessel would crest the next wave, then fired.
Smoke poured out from the cowling as the bullet hit home, killing the outboard.
The craft banked left, dipping into a large swell, vanishing from view as another wave curled over behind it.
Saylor angled the Zodiac toward the shoreline, still battling the waves, more towering breakers building behind them. She kept checking their six, looking as if she expected the other vessel to pop back out as they raced toward her pier, a lone clap of thunder following in their wake.
Zain divided his attention between her and the surface, scouring each wave when the damn boat appeared off to the left, paralleling their course. He fired a few more shots, punching holes in the hull, but it didn’t slow. “How the hell is he keeping up with us after I took out one of his engines?”
Saylor sighed. “His boat’s faster, even with only three motors.” She shifted her hand, looking as if it took all her strength just to tighten her grip on the throttle.
He glanced at Chase, then back to her. “You’re freezing.”
She nodded. “I can worry about that once we’re safe.”
“Until you stop shivering, and piloting this boat becomes more than you can handle.”
“I survived three days in weather like this. I can survive another twenty minutes without passing out.” She jumped when another round punched through the side window. “Damn it. Hold on.”
She turned into the boat, opening up a clear sightline as they barreled toward it, water shooting out both sides, spray soaking through their clothes. Zain’s next shot hit the captain — dropped him out of sight while the rest of the crew scrambled to recover.
That’s all the lead she needed to veer off and hit the throttle.
The Zodiac picked up speed, lurching across the ocean in bounding hops.
Zain gripped the handles, vowing he wouldn’t puke when Foster’s chopper appeared on the horizon, twin vortices whirling behind it.
Cruising so low the tops of the waves curled in, following like a massive wake.
Either Kash or Jordan opened the doors, started firing. Pelting the other boat with short, sharp bursts. Someone returned fire, the muzzle flashing yellow with each shot before it veered off, disappearing into the waves with just the echo of gunfire lingering in the air.
Foster banked over, following along. The radio buzzed, his voice cutting in and out. “Storm… severe… pickup…”
Chase replied, more static filling the void. “Saylor? You still want to attempt a transfer? Because it’s now or never.”
She stared straight ahead, focus glued to the ocean.
“Not sure it’s safe to stop the boat long enough to get picked up, now.
We’d likely capsize before we could get everyone clear.
We’re not too far. I’d rather take our chances on the ocean.
Can Foster land at the pier? We can do the handoff there. Fly anyone who needs it to Providence.”
Chase snorted. “You’re all going.”
Greer slapped Chase on the shoulder. “Says the guy who got hit three times.”
He smiled at her. “I’ll let a doctor check me out… Once I know everyone’s safe.”
“Or we’ll let the doctor decide the order. Either way, it’s gonna be a long night.”
It took another ten minutes of Saylor riding the waves and dodging danger before the dock appeared off the bow. Waves shot over the pier, a section of the parking lot already starting to flood.
Foster raced ahead, landing at the far end as Saylor worked the throttle, somehow maneuvering the boat into the slip without crashing.
Chase jumped out, tripped onto one knee before picking himself up — tying off the lines.
He gave Greer a hand up, then helped Zain lift Maddox clear.
The bastard roused, muttering something before Zain knocked him out with a quick strike.
Chase chuckled. “I think I can take him the rest of the way before you accidentally drop him on his head… In the ocean.”
Zain turned, frowning at Saylor still standing at the helm, gaze fixed straight ahead. Her hands locked around the wheel. He climbed back in, half-wondering if his ribs would simply poke out through his vest as he made his way back to the helm. “Saylor?”
It took a few moments before she blinked, then looked over him. “Hey.”
“C’mon. We need to get you out of those wet clothes and into something warm and dry.”
She nodded but didn’t release the wheel. “I can’t seem to let go.”
Shit.
He moved in behind and gently pried her fingers free. “Christ, they’re like blocks of ice.”
She took a step, buckled. He caught her before she fell, gathering her into his arms.
She shook her head. “Your ribs. ”
“Aren’t killing me, yet.”
He picked his way to the side, thanking Kash when his buddy gave him a hand up.
Kash arched a brow, but Zain struck off, made a beeline for the chopper.
Foster mumbled something that resembled, “Stubborn,” as he waited for Zain to strip off Saylor’s outer most layer and wrap her in a blanket before pitching the bird forward as he barely cleared the trees, then banked the machine northward.
Saylor burrowed against Zain, one frozen hand resting on his chest, her head nestled against his shoulder. She glanced up at him, eyes glassy, slightly unfocused. “God, you’re handsome.”
He chuckled. “I see we’ve reached the delusional stage of hypothermia.”
“Nope, it’s all you.” She sighed, her eyes drifting shut. “I really do love you.”
He froze, her words bouncing around in his head before they finally took shape — sank in. He shifted his focus to her face, but her eyes remained closed, her body lax against his. “Saylor.”
She hummed but didn’t open her eyes.
“Chase. She’s out.”
His buddy shifted over, grunting with every small movement. He took her temperature, muttering under his breath. “She’s low. I’ll crack open some heat packs, just don’t let them touch her skin. And keep trying to rouse her until we reach the hospital.”
Zain held her close, talking softly to her until Foster flared off the speed and landed at the helipad.
A trauma team opened the doors, shuffling people onto chairs and gurneys.
Zain walked beside Saylor, getting all the way into the treatment room before tanking to the left.
Crashing into Kash when his buddy stopped him from continuing all the way to the floor.