Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
V iper raced after the kidnappers, pushing the jet ski to its maximum capacity. He didn't hold out much hope, but he had to try.
They'd be taking her to a mothership, by the looks of things. They were too far away from the shore for the inflatable to make it back and their current bearing was south. There must be a bigger craft out there somewhere.
He kept the shadowy vessel in his sights as he floored the tiny engine. It didn’t hold much gas, and soon the gauge was flickering above empty. Looking up, he couldn’t see the boat. Panic threatened to surge through his veins, but he focused on remaining calm. He knew it was the only way through this. Lose it, and he’d lose Izzy.
“Come on,” he muttered, scanning the dark surface of the ocean. “Where are you?”
There!
In the distance, he spotted a murky, dark hull rising out of the water. It was swathed in darkness, all the lights off on deck, but he could make out a white bulkhead. It looked to be a commercial vessel of some kind. A fishing trawler maybe?
He grunted. Good cover. No one would look twice at a fishing boat docking in the early hours.
The jet ski's engine spluttered, then hiccupped as it jerked spasmodically. He'd never make it back to the yacht, but then he’d known that right from the start. No point in holding back, so he pushed every last inch out of the machine before it stalled.
The night was eerily silent, save for the gentle lapping of water against the jet ski. From here, he couldn’t hear the inflatable anymore, but he could make out the name on the side of the ship: Pacific Pride .
The stealthy inflatable vanished around the darker hull of the ship, and he waited, picturing them docking and forcing Izzy on board. He was just debating whether or not he could swim out to it when he heard the engines churn.
Shit, they were leaving.
With a sinking heart, he watched the white foam churn at the stern as the vessel made a lazy turn and headed south, away from San Diego. It could be going anywhere, but his guess was Mexico.
He slammed his hands down on the handlebars. Damn it. He'd lost her.
The only thing he had was a name.
Pacific Pride.
It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
The Coast Guard picked him up a couple of hours later. The jet ski had a light at the front, like a motorcycle, which he’d kept on. Luckily, they'd located him before the battery had died.
He took the GPS coordinates from the captain, knowing full well that he would have drifted over the course of the last few hours, and he gave them the name of the fishing vessel. They looked it up on their sonar, but it was nowhere to be seen.
The fishing trawler had vanished.
As soon as Viper stepped back on dry land, he called Blackthorn Security HQ in D.C. and told Blade what had happened.
There was no blame, no reprimand for losing his principal, just a terse exchange of the facts. Viper told Blade what he knew, gave him the coordinates and the name of the ship, and the Operations Manager instructed him to sit tight. They’d get back to him.
Viper paced up and down his hotel room. What an almighty fuckup. How could this have happened? Nobody had known they were going out on that yacht tonight. It had been a last-minute decision, and yet, that attack had been planned and executed to perfection. A quick, violent ambush. They’d grabbed the target and gotten out of there, all in under five minutes.
Those guys were pros. The semi-automatics they'd been using were proof of that. AK-47 assault rifles. He'd recognized the distinctive curved magazines from his time in the Middle East.
The telephone rang. It was the hotel reception asking him to come downstairs. A detective from the San Diego Police Department had arrived to interview him.
"Have you found the trawler?" he asked, as soon as the introductions were out of the way.
"Not yet." The stocky, mustached detective gestured for him to sit down. "I’d like to hear your version of the events?"
Viper sighed but eased himself into a chair in the reception waiting area. This was a waste of time. He got that the police had to do their thing, but without a trace on the ship, they wouldn't get anywhere. He gave an impatient summary of what happened and then said he had to go. There was one person he was dying to see.
Robert.
That man was the only one who’d known about the party in advance. It had been his idea to go. His friend who’d hosted it. Viper wanted some answers.
He took a cab to the hospital where Robert was being treated. A flesh wound, the doctor said. They'd stitched him up and given him some antibiotics and painkillers. He should be able to go home soon.
"What do you want?" Robert barked as Viper marched into the room.
A thank you would be nice, Viper thought. He'd only saved the jerk’s ass, but instead he said, "We need to talk."
Robert looked wary. "It was your job to protect her. You failed. What is there to talk about?"
Okay, he was pushing it. Viper took a steadying breath. Luckily he’d been trained to withstand assholes. Besides, he had more important things to do than argue with Robert. Izzy’s life was at stake. "You wanted me to stay behind, remember?"
Robert frowned. "You don't think I had anything to do with this?"
Viper gave him a penetrating look. "That's what I'm trying to find out. You didn't want me onboard. You made that very clear. Why was that?"
Robert stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Okay, if you must know, I wanted to get Izzy alone. I needed to talk to her about something."
"About what?"
"None of your business."
"In light of what's happened, it is my business. If you don't want to be a suspect in her abduction, then you better start talking."
Robert leaned back on the pillow. "Okay, relax. Izzy and I have been seeing quite a lot of each other over the last few months, and I wanted to talk to her about our relationship."
Viper scowled.
"I wanted to take it to the next level. I was going to tell her how I felt about her, and I didn't want a big oaf like you hanging around when I did it."
Viper studied him. He seemed legit. There was even a faint blush in the middle of his cheeks that hinted of wounded male pride.
We're not together .
Had Izzy lied about their relationship? Was there something between them?
Nah, there couldn't be. He recalled the way she'd been dancing with those men at the club. There was no way she was committed to this guy.
She didn't want to rip his clothes off. Wasn't that what she'd said to Emily?
It seemed Robert's feelings were not returned. Unrequited love. It was a bitch.
"Who else knew about the party on the yacht?" he asked.
"Nobody. It was a last-minute thing. I wasn’t even supposed to be here until next week. After I changed my plans, I rang Casper to tell him I'd be in town, and he invited us to the party. Naturally, I asked Izzy to join me."
"Who is Casper? Do you know him well?"
"Yeah, we studied together at Yale. I can vouch for him. He's a stellar guy."
I'm sure.
Viper thought for a moment. Casper had no reason to kidnap Izzy, nor did he have anything against her father, that they knew of. He could be in it with Robert, but Izzy had said herself, Robert couldn't afford to buy her out. She was more useful to him alive than dead. He had no motive.
Still, he'd given Blade both their names. They would do a more thorough check, including a search for outstanding warrants, previous records, or any other criminal activity. At the moment, however, it looked like this dickhead was in the clear.
"Did you tell anyone else about the party?"
"No, I wasn't even sure I was going until I'd spoken to Izzy. If she didn’t want to, I wouldn't have gone."
Viper very much doubted that. Robert wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice his evening for someone else, even a woman he professed to be in love with.
"How's the shoulder?" he asked.
"Freaking painful."
Good , thought Viper, as he left the room. Served him right for taking Izzy onto the yacht and putting her in harm's way. And for being a prick.