Chapter 12 #2
“The tires,” a voice said behind Alana. Hank ran forward and aimed his rifle. “Shoot the tires.” He fired a round, hitting the right front tire.
Trevor took out the front left tire.
The man who’d lunged for the driver’s door yanked it open. Before he could jump in, Gina sent a bullet through the driver’s windshield. The man cursed in Spanish, slammed the door shut and ran hunkered low toward the trees at the far side of the loading area.
The last man standing bent toward the older man on the ground. Before he could lay a hand on him, Chase fired, hitting the man in the shoulder. He stumbled backward, clutching the wound. Once he regained his balance, he staggered toward the tree line and disappeared into the shadows.
Hank’s team ran after the two men who’d escaped.
Alana shot up and ran down to the loading dock.
Chase knelt beside her father, pulled the hood off his head and checked for a pulse.
Her father blinked up at the Navy SEAL, his hair and clothing disheveled, a bruise forming on his jaw. “You.”
“Yes, sir,” Chase said.
Dwayne Neal snorted. “About time you got back. Where’s my daughter?”
“I’m here, Daddy.” Alana dropped to her knees beside him, her chest tight at the sight of her father lying against the ground, looking like an old man, not the strong, unflappable CEO of his multimillion-dollar corporation. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was so afraid for you.”
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly.
She leaned back and studied his face. “You fell on the pavement.”
“It was a strategic decision,” he said. “It’s one thing to shove an upright man into a car, but quite another to lift two hundred and thirty pounds of dead weight.”
“You had me worried,” she said.
“I was worried about you,” he said, his face softening. “Those men had you. Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay.” She shot a smile toward Chase. “Chase and his friends got me out.”
“Glad they were good for something,” her father snapped. “Help me up, will ya?”
Chase rolled him to his side and sliced through the zip tie holding his wrists together. Then he held out a hand.
Alana’s father stared at it, his eyes narrowed. Finally, he took Chase’s hand and let him draw him to his feet. Once upright, the older man swayed.
Chase grabbed his elbow.
Alana rose and slipped an arm around his waist. Between the two of them, they steadied her father. He tried to shake free of Chase’s grip.
“Give it a minute,” Chase said.
“I don’t need a minute.” The older man swayed a little. A frown creased her father’s brow, but he didn’t move or try to shake free of Chase’s grip again. “How did you know?—"
“We got word from one of our sources that Delgado found out about you and decided to go for big money. He was going to demand ransom for Alana. If that went south, they were going to take you.”
Alana’s father nodded. “Since you recovered Alana, does that mean it went south for Delgado?”
“Yes, sir,” Chase said. “He’s on a plane to California to be turned over to the U.S. Marshals.”
“Good,” the older man said. “I was in the lobby when Delgado’s goons came after me.”
“Why didn’t you stay in the room?” Alana asked.
“I was waiting to hear news about you,” he said. “When they came in, the hotel staff ducked behind the counters. They tazed my bodyguard, tied him up and threatened to shoot him if I didn’t go with them. Then they escorted me out the back, where you found me.”
“Fortunately, we were just pulling into the hotel when we heard Delgado had sent his second in command to take you.” Alana leaned her cheek against her father’s arm. “Thank God we got here when we did.”
Her father nodded and smoothed his over his damaged clothes. “Yes, your timing was impeccable.” He looked over her shoulder.
Chase had taken a step back, giving her father all the room he needed to reunite with his daughter and giving him time to be a father.
Alana’s heart swelled. The man was insightful, honorable and protective.
Her father watched him as well.
Hank and Chase checked the two downed cartel members for pulses. Finding both alive, they applied pressure to their wounds until an ambulance could arrive.
Ten minutes later, the Mexican police and two ambulances arrived amid flashing lights and wailing sirens. Four police units pulled in, surrounding the loading dock.
Chase, Trevor, Gina and Hank had grounded their rifles. Hank and Chase waited for the medical technicians to take over before they straightened and joined Gina and Trevor, where they stood with Alana, holding their hands in the air as the police surrounded them.
The hotel manager emerged onto the loading dock and spoke in Spanish to the officer in charge.
When the officer in charge turned to Chase, he answered all questions in a straightforward, patient manner, his bearing and tone something Alana recognized in all of his team.
They were men of authority without the need for volume or aggression.
When a younger officer got snippy with him, Chase didn’t let it affect him.
He answered in an easy, non-threatening way.
Hank’s men emerged from the tree line, escorting the injured man and the guy who’d tried to drive away. The uninjured man’s wrists were zip-tied behind his back. The other had his uninjured wrist zip-tied to his partner’s zip-tie.
The officer in charge studied the faces of the four cartel members, and his eyes narrowed. He nodded his head slightly, as if he recognized some, if not all four.
Chase, Trevor and Hank gave their statements about the incident at the hotel only. Hank told them they were trained to protect and extract hostages. He gave the officer the name of his contact in the Mexican government, who could vouch for his team and their permission to bear arms in Mexico.
The officer stepped away, placed a call and came back minutes later to let them know they were free to go. The police would hand over the cartel members to federal officers.
All through the investigation, Alana’s father watched Chase. “He handles himself well,” her father commented.
“He does,” Alana said with an inordinate amount of pride. “He doesn’t get rattled easily.”