Chapter Twenty-Four
“Has it been twenty-four hours since our last flight?” I grumbled as we disembarked the plane on Cedros Island.
The airfield was nothing more than a long runway.
No tower. No hangars. One end of the runway was feet away from a bluff that went straight down into the ocean.
I was not afraid of flying. I wasn’t a fan of back-to-back flights, but planes didn’t bother me.
However, I’d closed my eyes when we came in for landing. Taking off would be worse.
“Just barely.” Jack transferred his duffel to his other hand.
Before we’d boarded the flight, which departed from the same airport we’d flown into yesterday, Jack took me to a mall so I could pick up a few things before we went back to his . . . our house so he could get packed. We’d also made a stop at a Walgreens so I could get toiletries.
He hadn’t probed or given me any weird sidelong glances after the whole Shep incident. He’d said he believed I’d never been with Shep in a romantic way. But sometimes people say one thing but really feel another way. Jack didn’t.
On the plane while Jack was snoozing, I thought about the man who had once upon a time been my friend.
A man who had caught me by the ankle before I rolled off the roof of a three-story building.
A man who’d kicked in doors and cleared my way so I could gather intel that would further help his team track terrorists.
A good man who had fallen on hard times, then disappeared.
Over the years, I’d thought a lot about him.
Where he was, if he’d recovered, what he was doing.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think he was the infamous Shepherd Drexel.
Though, I should’ve put two and two together. But this was one of those times when it only hit you in the face after you knew. If Jack and the rest of the guys knew, they’d probably laugh their asses off.
My friend’s beloved German Shepherd’s name was Drexel.
But I owed him my life. He’d called that marker. I would never breathe his real name to anyone, thus they’d never know how Shep Drexel got his name. But I knew, and I loved that was the name he picked.
“Why does it raise the pucker factor when the plane that dropped you off taxis away?” Mase asked.
“Because your ride dumped you and now you got no way home,” Pete offered.
“Before we hit the hotel, I wanna stop at the grocery store,” Mason announced.
Of course he did.
“I saw the five Snickers you put in your pack,” I noted. “Do you really need more candy?”
“Yes, Kitty Cat. I prefer local chocolate when I’m traveling.”
Pete was a few feet in front of us. He didn’t break stride when he confirmed, “He’s not lying. Every country, multiple stops for candy bars.”
“Some of us like foreign chocolate. Some of us like foreign women. But one of those things doesn’t steal your wallet and watch.” I heard a loud snap. “Oh, and your passport.”
Jack chuckled. Pete did not.
“Did you buy a hooker and she pulled the ole ‘wait until you pass out, then steal all your shit’?” I asked.
“No. I did not buy a hooker. I met a woman in a bar and took her back to my hotel room,” Pete disgruntledly mumbled.
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. “Where was this?”
“Saint Petersburg.”
And then it hit me. “Your nickname.”
“Yup.”
“Russia or Florida?”
There was a beat of silence.
“The Sunshine City in the Sunshine State,” Mason answered. “Had to explain to the Master Chief why he was missing our flight out of Tampa.”
“I was twenty-three,” Pete defended himself. “And the woman had this British accent that drove me wild. Totally lost my head.”
“Lost your head and your wallet,” I noted. “Are we walking across the street to the grocery store here or the one by the hotel?”
We’d all studied the map of the island. There was a tiny village next to the airfield.
It had a few stores and a church. Our hotel was seven kilometers up the road.
We could hoof it, and with the clean, cool night air after being in a stuffy plane, I would’ve suggested ditching the car and walking, but I was ready to sleep.
We had an early morning tomorrow. Before we left for Natividad Island, we needed to make sure Carlos hadn’t brought Calista here.
If she wasn’t on either island, we’d head to the mainland.
“Hold up,” Pete said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s Shep.” There was a brief pause before “We’ve landed.” Another pause, this one longer and accompanied by Pete’s gaze sliding around the group. “Right. We’ll pivot. Thanks for the update.”
Pete pocketed his phone and announced, “A plane registered in the United Arab Emirates filed a flight plan to Mexico City. The plane is still there, but the pilot and the four occupants of that flight boarded a smaller aircraft. Flight plan has them landing here on Cedros. Shep missed it earlier, but Gloria Alverez checked into a hotel here two days ago and hasn’t checked out. ”
I guess I wasn’t getting into bed anytime soon.
“Well, that fucks up tonight’s plans of kicking back and eating chocolate,” Mason grumbled my thought.
“I feel like I should ask if eating chocolate is a euphemism for something. But I’m afraid that’s what you call a combat jack and I’ll be scarred for life, so I’m not going to ask.”
Mason’s smile was wicked.
Thankfully Pete cut in before Mason could confirm my suspicion.
“We’ve got five unknowns, Gloria, and Carlos on the island.
The hotel Gloria checked in to is in the same village where our hotel is, near the fishing port and pier.
We’re hoofing it, using the beach until we hit the bluffs, then we’ll use the dirt access roads to Ghost Town.
That puts us three klicks from the hotel. ”
The beach route was the long way to the village north of the airport, where the hotels and pier were. It would add forty minutes to our walk.
“Are we hitting the hotel tonight or waiting until dawn?” Jack asked.
“My vote is tonight,” Mason declared. “I’m not all that fired up about hanging out for longer than needed in a place named Ghost Town.”
I couldn’t stop my smirk.
“Scaredy cat.”
Mason lifted his right hand and flipped me off. What he didn’t do was deny he was scared.
“Does this mean I’m shit out of luck?” Mason asked. “You know chocolate helps me concentrate during a—”
“Stop talking,” Jack interrupted Mason. “The last time you complained about something, we engaged in an all-night battle. Can we just get to the hotel without having to draw our weapons?”
The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire had us all stopping.
“Goddamnit,” Jack snarled.
“Visual?” Pete asked.
I scanned the runway and didn’t see anything. “Negative.”
I was already pulling my pack off to grab my vest.
An advantage to Shep chartering us a private plane was no one said anything when we walked on strapped. However, I didn’t want to wear uncomfortable ballistic plates on a flight. But I sure as shit wanted them on with the sound of bullets popping off.
I dropped my bag, crouched in front of it, and was unzipping it when I saw movement on the opposite side of the runway nearest the beach.
I watched and waited.
There were neat rows of sand or aggregate piled high. Beyond that there was a long shipping dock. It was night, the business was closed, there were lights at the end of the dock, but otherwise the staging area was dark.
I went back to unpacking my vest. I had it over my head when I saw another dark shadow.
“White sedan rolling in hot. We need to move.”
Pete was right. We were sitting ducks with no cover.
Just as I was standing, I caught a flash of someone running from behind a pile of sand and making a mad dash to a cluster of shipping containers. There was a full moon, not enough light to make out facial features but enough to know the long ponytail whipping around as she ran was blonde.
“Is that her?”
How many blonde-haired women could there possibly be on this island? And a blonde running from someone shooting at her . . . it had to be Calista.
“Who?”
“Calista! I think that’s her behind the shipping containers.”
Engines roared closer.
The woman dashed across an open space headed for another container. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, and I still couldn’t be a hundred percent sure it was Calista, but damn if she didn’t have the same build as the description Shep had sent—tall and slim.
“Cat—”
“It has to be her. Cover me!”
I yanked the Sig P226 Pete let me borrow out of my holster and ran as fast as I could across the tarmac.
I was on the other side, back on the dirt, and beelining for the shipping containers.
I heard the guys laying down cover fire.
I had five feet left to go when a barrage of gunfire rang out, forcing me to do a running dive for cover.
I rolled, came up on my hip, and cursed Tom Washington’s name when the incision from removing the tracker reminded me that Jack had only cut into my flesh a few days ago and it was not healed.
I forgot about the pain in my hip when I pulled up on my knees and felt the barrel of a gun pressed to my forehead.
“Calista Ventura?” I asked, even though I knew it was her.
“Who are you?”
“Tom Washington sent me to find you.”
“How do you know Tom?”
“I’ll tell you, but can you please lower your weapon?”
“No.”
Shit. I did not want to hurt this woman. Berta respected her. Tom cared about her. Her sister had been murdered. And Carlos had brought her to an island to sell her.
But still . . .
“Really, Calista, Berta thinks highly of you, but I need you to get your gun out of my face.”
“Berta?”
Fucking hell, I was done. My left hand went to the outside of her wrist. I pushed the barrel away from my head and lunged while holding her hand with the gun in the air. I landed on top of her with a thud. I heard the air leave her lungs in a whoosh. A second later, I’d successfully disarmed her.
I pushed up on my knees, straddling her tiny waist, and told her, “We need to get back to my team.”
“Who are you?” she pushed out while trying to suck in air.
I climbed off her.
A loud explosion rocked the earth. I looked up and flames licked the night sky.
I held the gun back out to Calista. “Don’t shoot my team. Three men. All in black tees.”
“Got it.”
“Follow me.”
I crept to the end container and peeked around it. A gas station was fully engulfed in flames. There was a car on fire. But no guys.
Instinctively, I reached for my ear.
No comms. My phone was in my pack.
The guys would need to fall back and find cover before the fire drew a crowd. I thought about the map. The church at the end of the runway was too far away. They’d lose visual of me. The grocery store could be seen when we exited the plane, meaning the rooftop would be a good perch for overwatch.
Jack was for sure going to redden my ass for this.
“We have to get across the street to the grocery store.”
“Are you insane? I just spent two days tied to a bed in a hotel. You’re crazy if you think I’m taking a chance of being seen and taken again.”
“You’ll be safe. My team will be there to meet up with us.”
I didn’t have time to argue with her. We had to get back to the guys before people flooded the streets, making it harder to go unnoticed.
“You go,” she told me.
This was one of the many times I wished I was male. I was not big enough to toss her over my shoulder and carry her. Nor was I strong enough to do that even for the short distance to the grocery store.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I appreciate you—”
She clamped her mouth shut when angry male voices sounded close.
Too close.
We turned at the same time.
Three men were running from the dock in our direction.
“Run!”
Calista took off. I followed. We made it to an office trailer as shots started flying.
I had a fifteen-round magazine and one in the chamber, then I would be out of ammo. Oh yeah, Jack was going to go apeshit.
“Is your mag full?”
“No clue. It’s not mine.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask her whose it was before bullets started pinging the trailer. I glanced around the corner. The guys were still coming.
“Are you a good shot?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ve got three coming our way,” I told her. “You take the right. I’ll cover left.”
“Got it.”
“Ready?”
Calista didn’t verbally answer. She stepped out from behind the trailer and aimed right. I did the same but went left.
My first shot was low and to the left. I adjusted, pulled the trigger, and before my first target hit the ground I moved to my second. Calista fired twice and all three were down.
Now we really had to move.
“See the building on the other side of the tarmac?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s where we’re headed.”
She didn’t wait for me. I took a second to make sure no one was coming up on our six, then sprinted after her.
I needed to get back to Jack and the guys. And one way or another, Calista was coming with me.