Blindsided, page 13
part #1 of Book Two Series
“Reminds me of Ireland,” Mickey commented from Ruby’s other side. “Cold enough to turn a man’s grapes into raisins.”
Ruby laughed.
Pete shook his head. “His father’s son.”
She looked at the collection of buildings that lined the shore. “I can’t believe people live there.”
“People live everywhere,” Pete said. “The Norwegians are a hearty lot.”
“Norwegians like Freya?” Mickey asked, blinking innocently.
Ruby bit back a grin.
“You leave Freya out of this,” Pete said with a scowl. “Impertinent shit. Just like your pop.”
“Da says you just have to keep pokin’ until somethin’ falls out,” Mickey said reasonably.
“Sounds like him.” Pete pulled a handful of kroner notes from his pocket and handed them to the boy. “Go get us a couple of bottles of water.”
“And a Melkesjokolade!” Mickey said.
“A what?” Ruby asked.
“It’s a candy bar,” Pete said. “Get a couple. This is going to be a long trip.”
The boy slipped away, his bright red hair like a flag in the small crowd aboard the boat.
“He shouldn’t even be here,” Pete muttered. “I don’t know what the hell Sean’s thinking.”
“Mickey said his mom died last year,” Ruby said. “Maybe Sean doesn’t have anyone else to take care of him.”
“He can afford to hire someone. The boy doesn’t belong here, doing this.”
Ruby didn’t disagree. She was more than a little shocked that Sean had brought his twelve-year-old on this crazy mission. She liked Mickey—he was smart, knew far more than any twelve-year-old should, and had more than his fair share of his father’s charisma—but he was still just a kid.
Sean might not be worried about him, but Ruby was.
Especially after having met the one-eared man. Some people made the most primal part of you sit up and scream in terror. The one-eared man was one of them. That she hadn’t seen him again in no way reassured her—because they would meet again.
She knew it as surely as she knew her own name, and it would not end well—for either of them.
“Do you think we can do it?” she asked and looked at Pete.
Because she trusted him to be honest, which was odd, since she didn’t trust many people, certainly not those she’d only just met. But there was something very pragmatic and calm about Pete. And something very decent.
“Maybe,” he said bluntly. “It’s going to take a fair amount of luck, but it’s possible.”
She smiled wryly. “Like winning the lottery.”
“Nah, our odds are better than that.” Pete looked out over the water. “Rafe is determined, and when that boy is determined, mountains get moved.”
“You’ve known him a long time.”
Pete gave her a sideways look. “Not as long as you.”
“He told you?” she asked, surprised.
“Not much.” He leaned against the thick metal railing that lined the boat. “But it’s pretty obvious.”
“It is?”
“It’s the way you look at him, like you know how he works.”
A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “Hardly.”
“I’ve known Rafe for a long time. He’s honorable, courageous, stubborn, secretive, and a mean son of a bitch when crossed. But he’s got a heart of gold, and he’d die for those he loves in a heartbeat. Shit, he’d die for those he doesn’t know in a heartbeat.”
Yes. That was part of the problem.
“He’s got a hell of a chip on his shoulder,” Pete continued with a sigh. “Always has. He’s gotta push harder, go farther, be more than anyone else. I’ve seen him do some crazy, brave, suicidal shit, but never on his own account. Only for others.” He slid her another look. “Where’s that come from, you suppose?”
Ruby said nothing.
This was not her business; Rafe’s secrets were his own.
But Pete cared for Rafe; he wasn’t aiming for an angle, he wanted to understand.
“His ma,” she admitted.
Pete’s brows rose. He stared at her and waited.
“She wasn’t…right,” Ruby said. “And she did a lot of bad things. I think it’s important to Rafe that he not become her.”
“He’s trying to make up for her,” Pete said astutely.
“Yes.”
“And where do you fit in?”
Ruby looked away, out at the towering cliffs. “We lived together when we were kids.”
“But you aren’t related.”
“No. My ma…took care of him.”
“At least tell me your mother was worth a damn.”
Ruby shrugged. “Sorry.”
“How long’s it been since you saw each other?”
“Almost two decades. He left when he was ten.”
“Cheyenne,” Pete said.
“Yes.” Ruby paused. “Do you know her?”
“No. We’ve never met. But I know she checks in with him real regular and tears him a new one when he needs it.”
As a child, watching Rafe walk out of the hopeless life they shared, she’d been more than a little jealous. She was chagrined to discover that resentment still lingered.
The thought of having someone care enough to keep in touch, and to use the hard words when necessary, made her chest ache.
But no one had needed love more than Rafe. It had been true then; Ruby thought it was still true now.
“He has so much,” she said quietly. “So many people who care for him. And yet he’s determined to climb into a grave. Why? She’s dead; she won’t care.”
“He’s been that way ever since I met him,” Pete replied. “I was doing private security work in Bagdad; he was part of a SEAL unit that spent some time in the green zone. He was a wild hair then, but not like he is now. Sometimes he’s so cold, it burns.”
Ruby said nothing. That coldness scared her. Not for him—for herself. Because she wanted to melt it away.
“He’s different with you, you know,” Pete continued. “You ground him, bring him back to earth. To us. And that’s where he needs to be if he’s going to make it through his.”
Again: No pressure.
But then she thought about the kiss they’d shared, and color flooded her cheeks. Because that kiss had been easy. Too easy. And if that was all it took to keep Rafe safe beside her…well.
That was hardly a sacrifice.
Even though it would only lead to disaster.
What if I don’t want to be careful?
Words she never should have spoken. Her surrender to hope, if only for a moment.
But if they held Rafe to earth, if they kept him alive, the expense of her heart might just be worth it.
Because it was already lost. Ruby knew that. She could try and pretend it was still a choice all she liked, but it was a done deal. It had been from the moment she saw him in her apartment doorway.
He’d come.
Even if it was only for the message; even if he’d brought hell with him.
“Goddamn it,” she said and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Pete smiled at her. “I’m glad he found you again, Ruby.”
His phone beeped and he pulled it from his pocket. “We’re close to the inlet.”
Mickey suddenly appeared, three bottles of water in hand. The pockets of his red fleece were stuffed so full with candy bars, they looked like the cheeks of a chipmunk preparing for winter.
“Here,” he said and shoved the bottles at them.
“You ready?” Pete asked him.
“Aye.” The boy reached down and opened the green backpack that sat on the deck of the boat next to Ruby’s feet. He removed a small drone and a remote control. “Let’s give her a go, then.”
Ruby stood back as he started the drone and sent it into the sky. Several of the people around them watched, one remarking, “You’re going to get some killer footage with that,” but no one protested. A moment later, he sent it veering into the inlet Pete indicated, and they all watched on the small viewer screen of the remote.
The inlet narrowed considerably, a tight, rocky space where it would take skill to maneuver a boat.
“You getting GPS coordinates?” Pete asked, squinting at the screen.
“Aye,” Mickey said again.
The drone swept up the inlet, the walls around it narrowing until it was little more than a tunnel. The water was so deep blue it resembled a glittering jewel; mist swirled just above the water, ethereal and slightly foreboding.
“There it is,” Mickey said.
Ruby moved closer. A wide wooden dock had been built where the inlet ended; off to one side sat a collection of boat slips and a large steel crane. Just beyond the dock, a massive section of the cliff had been hollowed out, leaving a darkened hole. As the drone moved closer, a pair of large steel doors were revealed.
“Tight as a goddamn drum,” Pete muttered. “That’s not going to be any easier than going in from above.”
Mickey circled the drone around the entire site.
“You downloading the footage?” Pete asked.
Mickey nodded.
A loud pop suddenly sounded, and the drone veered sideways.
“Aw, hell,” the boy said.
Another loud pop. The drone began a nosedive toward the ground; Mickey wrestled with the remote.
“Nothing about this is easy,” Pete said grimly, watching him.
Another pop and the feed was lost.
“Shite!” Mickey said. “Da’s gonna kill me.”
“Can that thing be traced back to you?” Pete asked.
“Nay.” The boy sighed, clearly disappointed. “It was stolen.”
“Of course it was,” Pete said and rubbed the back of his neck.
“And the feed?” Ruby asked. “Did it upload?”
“Dunno.” Mickey put the remote control back into the pack. “Won’t know ‘til I check the cloud.”
“Great,” Pete said.
“I can draw it,” Ruby told him. “I saw enough of it.”
His gaze narrowed. “Rafe said you can remember everything you see. That’s a hell of a thing.”
“It comes in handy.” Sometimes. “Do you think they’ll come looking for the drone’s owner?”
“Doubt it. I can see six full boats just within view. That’s too many people to sort through. Besides, drones aren’t illegal. Not much they can do or say. More than likely, they’ll fish it out and see if they can track the owner through the serial number.”
“And good luck with that,” Mickey snorted.
“But they’ll know,” Ruby said.
Pete met her gaze. “They’ll know.”
Twenty
The house where Henry Gordon was being held was an ancient, hand-hewn log cabin nestled deep in the woods just outside the village of Nico Bay. The cabin sat off a rough and rutted four-wheel-drive road, and reconnaissance had been a bitch, because it had entailed a three-mile hike in to escape detection. The brief dusting of snow that had fallen while they were making the trek in hadn’t helped any.
Might as well have left a giant, glowing arrow: they went this way!
But Rafe and Sean had managed to get in, get a good look around, and get out without drawing any noticeable attention. And what they’d learned worked in their favor.
The place was isolated, so there would be no witnesses. Only two men were guarding the boy, and although they were well-armed and clearly professionals—Rafe would put his money on Russian mercs—disposing of them would be no problem.
They would go in quickly and quietly under the cover of darkness. Pete would set up with a sniper rifle from a clear vantage point, and Ruby would be waiting in the sedan at the end of the road with Mickey—who Sean thought might help keep little Henry from a full-blown meltdown.
Sean would go in first and clear the way, and Rafe would grab Henry and head for the van, a plan Rafe had protested: surely Sean—who had a child—was a better choice to get the kid.
Besides, Rafe wanted blood. Just a taste to assuage the violence simmering within him; a small meal to tide over the beast.
But Sean had insisted on flipping a coin, and when neither of them could find a coin, they’d played rock, paper, scissors. It was the stupidest op decision Rafe had ever been a part of.
And now he stood in the shadow of a massive, old growth spruce tree, his breath slicing into the icy air, snow melting as it hit his warm skin. He was less than twenty feet from the cabin. Russian rock music drifted toward him, and he could see the telltale flicker of a TV through one of the windows.
The cabin was small, no more than three rooms with a narrow loft. It wouldn’t take long to clear.
So long as the two men guarding Henry were down.
Down, dead. Either worked.
But Rafe knew what he preferred.
“You ready, old man?” Sean asked over the commlink.
I’m only three years older than you, jackass.
But Rafe just said, “Copy.”
“Pete?”
“On your six,” Pete confirmed.
“You got the car runnin’, Rubes?” Sean asked.
“Ten-four,” Ruby said.
“I got her covered, Da,” Mickey added.
Great. So long as the ten-year-old was watching her back, everything would be frigging great.
“Jesus Christ,” Rafe muttered.
The wind lifted, an icy gust that stabbed through him like a knife, and snow fell from the trees to slap the back of his neck. He pulled the black knit hat he wore down lower and watched as Sean made his way toward the back of the cabin.
There were two doors, one on the front, and one on the back. Two windows on the front of the building, one on each side, none in the rear. Sean sidled up next to the back door, cupped his hands by his mouth, and made a loud, ear-piercing screech; it was the most obnoxious sound Rafe had ever heard.
“Reindeer in rut," Mickey said, apparently in case anyone was wondering.
The rock music was turned down. A light suddenly turned on, illuminating the trees behind the cabin.
Sean screeched again. Rafe caught the grin on the Irishman’s face and shook his head, Jack’s voice echoing in his head.
Goddamn kid.
The back door opened: a long, narrow rifle barrel slowly slid out into the night. A spattering of Russian broke the thick silence of the falling snow.
“Close the door! It was just an animal.”
“I’m fucking sick of fish. I want real meat.”
“So what are you going to do? Shoot Rudolph and make yourself a steak?”
Sean turned back and looked at Rafe, hidden just within the thicket of trees. Made a motion with his hand, as if Rafe was supposed to repeat that god-awful sound.
Glowering at him, Rafe raised his hands to his mouth and attempted to do so.
“Sounds like it’s dyin’,” Mickey said in his ear.
Ruby laughed.
But the Russian slid further out the door. Sean motioned at Rafe again.
Rafe made the sound again.
And the Russian stepped out of the cabin fully, his gaze narrow as it swept the trees. The light he’d turned on merely turned the shadows deeper. Had he not bothered with the light, he would have seen Rafe clearly, hovering in wait.
“Do you see it?” asked the voice inside the cabin.
Sean didn’t give the man the chance to answer. He grabbed the rifle barrel, yanked the weapon from the Russian’s hands, and swung the stock violently into the man’s face. A loud crack sounded, and the Russian went down.
Half a second later, Sean was on top of him, the man’s neck snapping easily in his hands.
Quick and efficient. Just the way Rafe liked it.
Sean dragged the man’s body out of the doorway, collected the rifle, threw back his head, and made the sound again.
“Just kill the fucking thing and be done with it!” the man from within snarled.
A moment later, he appeared in the doorway. He was the size of a small giant, and in his large hands sat a sawed-off shotgun.
“Aw, shite,” Sean breathed.
Rafe aimed his SIG.
“I’ve got him,” Pete said.
But then the giant turned his head and spotted Sean. He jerked the shotgun up and fired.
The blast was like a cannon shot. Sean dove out of the way and slammed into the side of the cabin. Snow exploded in the spot where he’d stood.
The man turned toward the trees and fired again, blind. Rafe ducked behind the spruce.
“I don’t have a shot,” Pete said. “I need him to clear the doorway.”
Sean rolled to his feet. “Come on, then, you giant bastard. Show me what you’ve got!”
The Russian lurched toward him; he tossed aside the spent shotgun and pulled a Glock from the shoulder holster he wore.
Rafe aimed from behind the spruce, but before he could fire, Sean was charging the man with a wild, highland scream.
“Go, Da!” Mickey cried.
Sean plowed into the man as Rafe sprinted toward them.
“Jesus Christ,” Pete muttered.
The giant wavered when Sean slammed into him; he dropped the Glock but didn’t go down. Sean wrapped his arms around the man’s thick middle and tried to pick him up.
The man laughed.
Sean grunted and tried again. The giant grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him like a wet kitten; Sean swung wildly at the man, once, twice. The third time he connected, but it was a glancing blow, and the Russian laughed and lifted him higher.
“They’re too close,” Pete warned. “I’ll hit them both.”
Rafe slammed into the man’s broad back.
It was like hitting a wall.
The Russian reared back; his skull smashed into Rafe’s face, and blood filled Rafe’s mouth, sharp and coppery.
“Goddamn it,” Pete snarled.
“What?” Ruby asked sharply. “What’s happening?”
“Shoot him!” Sean ordered.
“I can’t,” Pete retorted. “You two idgits are in the way!”
Rafe drove a fist into the giant’s kidney, once, twice, and on the third blow, he crumpled, taking Rafe with him.
