Chapter 25
Sawyer
“Can you read me?” Zane asks through the coms.
“Loud and clear, Cap.”
“Good. How’s it looking, Cowboy?” he asks.
“No movement,” Weston says, his tone low and simmering with anger. When this is over, I imagine I’ll be getting an earful from him for letting Anastasia come back to town. But what choice did I have?
She’s already carrying the weight of losing Violet.
I couldn’t add Jack to that list. I know all too well the pain of carrying someone’s death on your conscience.
And as much as I want to keep her safe, I can’t let him die either.
Not if I have a chance to save them both.
She’s safe and secure in the coffee shop we practically turned into a fortress, with Leopold watching over her.
“I love him!” She’d screamed those words at Zane, loud enough that I’d heard them upstairs. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit hearing them put a ridiculous grin on my face despite our dire circumstances.
That grin is long gone now, though.
The boathouse is straight ahead. A metal building, weathered and long abandoned. Or, it was. The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a beautiful glare off the water just beyond.
Every window has been boarded up, and the door is the newest thing on the place. Probably because he replaced it before taking Jack. Can’t exactly have someone walking by and seeing an FBI agent shackled inside.
That would be bad for business.
“What about on your side, Tank?” Zane asks.
“Nothing here,” Ryker tells us. He’s stationed on a boat out on the water, while Garrison and Zane are nearby, close enough to move in should I need it. Here’s hoping I won’t.
Then again, I’ve never been one to take murderers at their word. I might have put on a brave face for Anastasia, but there’s no doubt in my mind this guy is going to try to take me out right alongside Jack. Another reason to keep my team away.
If I’m gone, they can step in and protect her where I failed.
Besides, walking into risky rescues is something I have a lot of experience with, and if it were any member of my team in there instead of Jack, there wouldn’t have been the slightest hesitation from me. His life is no less valuable.
“Am I clear?” I ask.
“All clear. Keep your eyes peeled, Cable Guy,” Zane confirms.
“Always do.” With my weapon at the ready, I move down the dock carefully.
The aged wood creaks beneath my boots, but it seems sturdy enough.
I move slowly—calculated, the adrenaline already coursing through my veins.
My fingers tighten on the grip of my weapon, and sweat beads on the back of my neck.
But since no one has shot me yet, the hope that I’ll find Jack alive inside grows.
Maybe I can get him and get back to Anastasia before it’s even fully dark. Then we can continue our discussion over what the future holds. Her gorgeous face swims into my memory, and my heartbeat kicks up a notch.
“Steady,” Zane says in my ear. “Stay focused.” His tone is clipped, a throwback to the countless missions I’ve gone on beneath his command.
Am I that transparent? “Copy. No movement, Cap,” I tell him. But we all know that doesn’t mean a single thing. Sometimes, the biggest risks are nearly invisible.
A bird flies overhead and calls out.
My pulse kicks up another notch.
I reach the door and check both of the hinges first. Then, I gently tap the door handle. “I don’t see anything on the outside that makes me think it’s wired. Anything on your end, Demo?”
“No signals registered,” he says. “All clear.”
“Move in, Cable Guy. Eyes peeled.”
“You’ve got it, Cap.” I take a deep breath, then slowly and carefully push the door open, ensuring I feel no tension as I do. The slightest bit of pressure could mean the thing is wired. Just like the door of my shop.
It swings open without resistance, casting a bit of light into the otherwise pitch-black boathouse. The main room is clear, but there’s a room at the back with a door partially open. From where I’m standing, I can’t see inside.
“All-clear in the main room. Moving to back.” The stench of mildew fills my lungs as I walk farther inside, the ground creaking beneath me. “Jack?” I call out as I move closer.
Still nothing.
Please don’t be dead.
How will I explain to Anastasia that I failed?
I click on my flashlight, then gently push the door leading into the back room. Weapon raised, I move in—but the second I do, my stomach plummets.
“There’s no one here.” I look for any signs that anyone has been here recently, and spot a chair in the back corner. The dust has been knocked off the seat, and there’s duct tape partially attached to the armrests and two front legs.
Jack was here.
But where is he now?
“Get out!” Demo yells through the coms. “A signal just went live, Cable Guy! GET OUT!” he roars.
Adrenaline surging into overdrive, I scan for the closest exit. At the back of the room I’m in, there’s a window covered with a thick curtain. A small sliver of light shines through just below, so I take a chance—and I sprint toward it. The curtain gives way for me as glass shatters.
But I’m too late.
The pressure hits me first. A deafening pounding of blood in my ears as I’m thrown from the building with such force that it knocks the air from my lungs.
I hit the water like a bullet, plunging into the surface as debris rains down on top of me. After a beat of confusion, I get my bearings and start swimming, the adrenaline shielding me from whatever damage my body took from the blast.
Remaining beneath the surface, I swim out, putting as much distance as I can between me and the building. My lungs burn, thanks to not being able to draw a full breath, but I keep pushing forward.
Whatever damage I took can be dealt with…so long as I don’t drown.
Hands grip the top of my vest, and I’m yanked from the water.
“I’ve got him.” Ryker’s deep voice is music to my ears. “You good?” His arms are wet, his face twisted in anger as he visually scans me for any life-threatening injuries. Thankfully, I seem to have none.
I cough, drawing in a few deep breaths to satisfy my burning lungs.
Then, as soon as I have my bearings, I sit up and survey the building.
It’s less than a half mile away from us and has likely been completely leveled, taken down to the piers that once held it up.
That is, if the smoke rolling off of what’s left is any indication of the destruction.
There’s only one reason I survived. I look to the sky. Thank You for saving me, Lord. Thank You, God.
Exhausted, I drop back down and close my eyes. “You know, I’m really tired of this guy blowing me up.”
“You and me both.” Ryker guides the boat back to shore, where Zane and the others are already waiting on the portion of the dock that survived the blast. He’s on the phone, gaze sharp, jaw set, but as soon as my feet touch the creaky wood, he thrusts it into my hand.
“Anastasia,” he tells me.
I take the phone, so relieved he called her. Water drips from my clothes as I take a few steps away from my team. “Hey, baby.”
“Did you seriously get blown up again?” she screeches.
“I mean, technically, the building got blown up. I’m fine.”
“Zane said—Sawyer.”
“Breathe, baby. I’m fine.”
She sighs into the phone.
“Jack wasn’t in there.”
She sniffles. “I’m both angry and relieved.”
“He must have moved him before I got there.”
“Because it was a trap.” Her tone shifts from relief to anger. “I sent you into a trap.”
“I told you, I sent myself into it. But I’m fine. We’re going to finish up here, and I’ll be back, okay? We’ll figure this out and find Jack.”
She hesitates a moment, drawing in a sharp breath. “Okay.”
Sirens scream as an ambulance and a police car barrel down the road toward us, a fire truck right behind. “The first responders are here. I need to talk to them. I love you, Anastasia.”
“I love you, too.”
“Tell Leopold we’re all good and I’ll be there soon so he can come tear this scene apart.”
“I will,” she says softly. “Sawyer—”
“I know, baby. But I’m fine. We’ll be watching TV and eating popcorn before you know it.”
“See you soon,” she whispers.
“Not soon enough,” I reply with a smile I know she can’t see, but I hope she can hear.
The line ends, so I hand the phone back to Zane. “Thanks for calling her.”
“Yeah, well, as soon as we knew it was a trap—”
Garrison crosses over toward us, his tablet in hand. “The signal didn’t go live until you were in that back room. We had the whole perimeter covered. How could he have known you were in there? If he’d been watching from a distance, I would have known.”
“I must have tripped a sensor of some kind.” I glance back at the building. “Not that I’ll be able to prove it now. Any evidence is long gone.”
“This guy is a step ahead of us constantly. He manages to evade all cameras—how?” Weston snaps. His gaze is furious, his body stiff.
“I have no idea,” I reply as the paramedics rush toward us. “But I intend to find out.”