Christmas Captive, page 15
She was alone.
You’re not alone. You have Jordan.
The ship rocked on a large wave. The ropes pulled tight but held. And Amy thought she might be sick. She’d expected that the arrival meant someone would be boarding the ship, but now it was clear from this angle that the boat’s only goal was taking someone away. Taking Elaina away.
Okay, Jordan. Where are you? We need you.
The sliding door on the other side of the wall rolled open, and angry voices started shouting.
“There it is.”
Amy peeked around the edge of the barrier, and her eye almost missed a metal wire running from the balcony straight to the boat. It didn’t seem to be holding the boat secure, and there was a little slack in the line. It quivered as if someone on the other side strummed it.
“Looks stable. You ready to go?”
“Yep. My harness is good.”
“Okay, put her in the vest.” That was Stein. “Get her attached to the line.”
It wasn’t just any line. This was a zip line. Forget the ladder—they were going to slide Elaina right into the hands of someone on that boat.
No. No. No. This could not be happening.
“No. Stop!” Elaina’s voice was strong and demanding, and Amy had never been so proud to be her aunt.
“Shut up!” The sickening smack of a hand on flesh made Amy recoil and Elaina wailed. “You better keep your mouth shut, or you’re never going to make it to that other boat. You understand?”
Whatever Elaina was being threatened with—a gun? a knife?—made her scream, and Amy had to physically hold herself back from crashing through the wall. Pistol in hand, she laid out all of her options.
Shoot into the unseen and pray she didn’t hit Elaina.
Shoot over the water to distract them but alert them to her presence.
Scale the wall and try to tackle at least two, maybe four men, risking injury and the inability to fight back.
These weren’t options. They were ludicrous.
She couldn’t do this alone.
God, I need help!
THIRTEEN
Jordan burst into the sunlight, its brilliance nearly blinding him, and he held up his arm while his eyes adjusted. The vacationers who had packed onto the lido deck were oblivious to the boat off the port side, but it was nearly all he could see. The small vessel held the telltale cranes and nets of a fishing boat, but it was capturing a different type of fish today.
Zigzagging between deck chairs and towels spread across the ground, he chose a place along the rail and took stock of the ropes strung between the ships.
The new arrival wasn’t close enough to the cruise liner to make for an easy transfer. But it was obvious that the plan was to get Elaina away from the ship. So why was it so far way?
Or, better yet, why not use a vessel that could pull closer to the ship?
He turned to Amy to see what she thought. Then he remembered that he was on his own. At least for now.
Amy would be back. For sure.
For now, he had to break the ties that bound the two boats together. Said ties were made of four-inch-thick rope and loose enough to lose any benefit from tension, which was a problem. The tighter the rope, the easier it would snap when broken. Loose rope could be damaged without breaking.
He needed those ties to pull taut. And he needed a rifle.
Pulling away from the rail, he made a quick survey of the area. No sign of Bo.
Had he misjudged the young man? The kid had seemed so eager for a pat on the back and the hope that someday he might become one of the elite. Surely he wouldn’t let his new hero down...would he?
Jordan had never taken advantage of his place on the teams, but he knew there were those who would do anything to get in good with a SEAL. And it was generally the young ones who wanted a trident pin of their own.
So, where was he?
“Mr. Somerton.” It was barely a panted breath, but Jordan turned with a smile on his face to see Bo racing toward him, a rifle held out at arm’s length. Several women screamed and jumped to their feet, but Bo paid them no mind.
The kid had a lot to learn to earn the title of SEAL, but at the moment, Jordan had never seen anything better.
“Good man.” He clapped Bo on the back, accepting the weapon and weighing it in his hand. It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t his. But it would do in a pinch.
“That man has a gun!” a mom screamed and frantically collected her children. “Get inside, now!”
Bo looked over his shoulder, his eyes round. “I guess maybe I shouldn’t have held it out like that.”
“Maybe not. But we don’t have any time to lose. That ship, it’s here.”
“I know.” Bo’s voice took on an urgent whisper. “Everyone in the security office is going crazy. Made it easy to take off with the rifle, but Staff Captain Xavier has been yelling at the guys—even the ones off shift—to line the lower decks and keep anyone unauthorized from boarding this ship. And no one can find the captain.”
His heart gave a hard thump. “The captain’s missing?”
“Yep. No one’s seen him in, like, three hours.”
“Who’s running the ship, then?”
“Staff captain.”
This didn’t line up. The captain disappearing when the other boat was meeting up with them was a coincidence he couldn’t ignore. Either the captain was in on this whole thing—which would explain Eric Dean’s escape—or he’d been taken out of commission.
Jordan hoped it was the later—and only temporarily. No captain would willingly give up his command. An image of the incapacitated officer flashed across his mind and made his skin crawl.
Whatever had happened, if the captain had been taken out of commission then someone else had control of the ship. And Xavier might not even realize it.
Until he knew what exactly was going down on the bridge, Jordan couldn’t trust anyone. Except Amy.
And maybe Bo.
“Did you bring me any rounds?”
Bo’s face broke into a broad smile. “Course I did.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of ammo.
Jordan scooped the bullets up and shoved them into his pocket.
“Bo, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
Jordan nearly smiled at the young man, so eager he was almost dancing on his toes. “Get this ship moving hard starboard.”
“Excuse me?”
“We need to move to the right. Right now.”
“But...” Bo pointed toward the bridge, his finger rolling in the air. “That’s up to the senior officers. We’ve got to stay on course and everything.”
Jordan clapped his hand on Bo’s shoulder firmly, forcing him to understand. “We won’t get off course. We only need to shift direction for a minute, but this has to happen. Right now. And you’re the only man for the job.”
“But what do I say?”
“Tell them a little girl’s life is on the line. Tell them you saw her on the monitor. Tell them they’re going to save her right now. Just steer starboard.”
Bo’s face went slack, but he quickly recovered. “Okay. I’ll do it.” He bolted away, and Jordan prayed the boy would find a way to get the job done.
In the meantime, he had his own job to do.
As he lifted the rifle to his shoulder, a rush of rightness flowed through him. This is what he knew. This is what he did.
But a bloodcurdling scream from across the lido deck reminded him that not everyone felt that way about a weapon in his hands. He glanced over at the young woman yanking off her headphones and jumping to her feet, clearly only now realizing what the rest of the crowd had discovered minutes before. She held a towel in front of her like it might save her life. Her lips trembled, and she never blinked, her gaze always on him.
“Ma’am.” He nodded in greeting, keeping his voice low. “You might want to head inside. This is going to be loud.”
She jerked her chin up and down several times before dashing across the wooden slats. Halfway to the exit, she stopped, turned back to look at her bag, and then clearly made the choice to leave it behind as she kept running.
He leaned into the railing, watching the fishing boat through the scope and following the lines across the water.
Suddenly the sunlight glinted off something he hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t part of the boat or the rope. Maybe it was just the crest of a wave.
Nope. There it was again. He caught his breath and waited. Again.
The stock of the rifle dug into his shoulder as he leaned his elbows on the wooden rail.
Suddenly the light hit it just right, and he realized what he was looking at. It was a zip line. He couldn’t see exactly where it began, but it absolutely ended on the fishing boat.
If he’d had any hair on the back of his neck, it would have stood up on end.
They were going to slide Elaina off the ship. Most likely never to be seen again.
Unacceptable. Period.
The line was tight, which worked for him. What didn’t work for him was his blind spot. From this angle there was no way to tell if anyone—such as Elaina—was on the line.
But every second he waited was another that she might be attached to that line and pushed off the ship.
Oh, Lord, let her not be on it now.
He checked his rifle once more, focused through the scope and lined up his shot.
Smooth is fast.
He took a deep breath, released it and eased his trigger finger back.
Crack.
The shot echoed and everyone on board knew someone was shooting now.
But the bullet veered left, missing its mark.
How could that be? He’d had it lined up perfectly.
His stomach sank. The scope was off. But there wasn’t time to worry about that. He had to recalibrate and fire again.
He found his mark, adjusted for the errant scope and let out a prayer with his breath. Then he squeezed the trigger, and it was like the whole world exploded.
The wire snapped audibly, the sound of the recoil covering this side of the ship.
But his job wasn’t done. Reloading his weapon, he took aim at the still-sluggish ropes. He got off round after round into the lines, fraying them but not succeeding in snapping them the way he wanted to. They were just too loose.
“Stop. Put your hands up now!”
Jordan paused but kept his weapon in place as two security guards approached. They both carried pistols, arms extended and elbows locked.
Oh, man. It was going to hurt when he took them out.
He almost felt bad. They weren’t trained for this—for any of it. For pirates in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. For a SEAL sniper with a rifle. But feeling bad for them didn’t mean Jordan would hesitate to put them down. There were lives on the line here. The safety of the ship and everyone on it—including his family—was at risk. And, most of all, Amy was counting on him. Jordan wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way.
“Listen, guys. You can put your guns down. I’m not aiming at anyone.”
The rounder one looked at his skinny friend and shook his head quickly. They continued their approach. “Just put it down, man.”
Jordan let the rifle swing from the strap at his shoulder and held his hands up. “Take it easy.” He stepped toward them slowly, evenly, maintaining eye contact the whole time. “It’s okay. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Well, that was mostly true. He genuinely didn’t want to hurt these guys—though he wouldn’t be opposed to getting a few blows in on Stein. But with the guards, he wouldn’t do any permanent damage. As long as they cooperated. If they tried to fight back—well, he just couldn’t make any promises at that point.
The men responded well to his soothing tones and their weapons lowered as he drew within three feet.
That was their biggest mistake.
His arm swept down without warning, taking both of their firearms out in one motion. Guns clattered to the deck as one man fell to his knees after it, his forearm bent at an unnatural angle. He groaned, his face going white with pain as he reached for his weapon with the other hand. Jordan stepped on the guns, sliding them out of reach.
“I’m not going to hurt you guys.” Well, not much more than he already had.
“Why are you doing this? What do you want?”
He narrowed his gaze onto them. “I’m trying to rescue a little girl.”
“What girl?”
That was new. Shouldn’t all the security personnel have been briefed? Surely Xavier had made certain that his team was looking for Elaina. He’d said he would do that, right?
Jordan tried to rack his brain, but suddenly the ship tipped starboard.
Way to go, Bo!
He raced for the railing just as the ropes pulled tight. They held for a long breath, and he pulled up his rifle again, just in case.
Snap. Pop.
The lines snapped and then broke apart.
The fishing boat rocked in the water, keeping up with the liner but now wholly disconnected.
“Gentlemen,” he said, turning back to the injured guards. “You should probably get some medical attention.” The guy with the broken arm looked about ready to pass out, and Jordan rotated his wrist in sympathy. His arm barely stung where he’d made contact. He should thank Lieutenant Sawyer for teaching him that move when he’d been fresh out of BUD/S.
Scooping up their pistols, he quickly checked them for other weapons. None.
Good. They couldn’t do anything else to stop him from meeting up with Amy.
As long as she was where she said she’d be.
* * *
Amy nearly dropped to her knees at the first crack of a rifle, her pistol jumping into her hand.
But the shot wasn’t aimed at her.
Soon after, a second echoed over the ship, and then the zip line tore in two, the sudden release of tension whipping it back and forth.
Her neighbors shouted in languages she’d never heard before, distracted and clearly blaming each other for a terrible plan.
This was it. Her chance.
It might be her only one.
Scaling the wall, she did a quick assessment from her position perched at the top. Eric Dean and another man argued with each other as Elaina stood crying before them. Two more rifle shots came in quick succession, and the men spun toward the sound, leaning over the railing. Stein had disappeared, but the sliding door to the room was open, the curtain waving in the wind.
Elaina looked up, her gaze locking on Amy, and her mouth opened.
Amy slammed a single finger in front of her lips.
With huge eyes rimmed in red, Elaina nodded.
Amy waved to the side as another rifle round shook the ship, and Elaina huddled in the corner.
Swinging over the wall, she landed in a squatting position. Before the men even realized she was there, she got off two knee shots, almost indistinguishable from the sounds of Jordan’s rifle fire.
Both men screamed, dropping their weapons, which Amy scooped up and shoved into her pockets.
She wanted to hug her niece and bury her nose in Elaina’s sweet hair and never let her go again, but there wasn’t time for a proper reunion, so she scooped the girl into one arm and said, “Hold tight.”
Elaina nodded, and Amy burst into the cabin.
Stein dropped his phone, his mouth hanging open as she flew through the door. It took him only a split second to grab for his gun, but it was too late.
She got off two rounds that hit his stomach with enough force to knock him on his back, sprawled across the bed. She didn’t stop to check on him, to see if he was dead or to disarm him. There had been four men with Elaina, and she wasn’t going to wait around to run into the last.
Rushing through the door, she raced for the spot where she’d promised to meet Jordan—Michael’s cabin.
The whole ship seemed to be in chaos, people screaming and cabin doors slamming. No one seemed to pay her or Elaina any mind. They were just another pair of people in a sea of confusion.
Amy didn’t pay attention to the others, either—all of her focus was on Elaina’s tears. She sobbed a great pool on Amy’s neck, her hiccups shredding Amy’s heart one piece at a time. Elaina’s grip was unrelenting, digging into her neck like she would never let go.
“Honey, don’t cry.” The words were no better than a whisper, forced past the lump in her own throat. “You’re safe now.” Amy wrapped her other arm around Elaina’s waist. Carrying her while running was awkward. Setting her down wasn’t even an option.
“I was so-o scared.”
Amy wished that she could wipe those memories away, praying they would be replaced with ones of joy and security, of flying high on park swings and hugging Michael.
“I’m going to take you to someplace safe, okay? This is all over. I promise.”
But as she ran, she wondered if she could really make that promise with any hope of keeping it. Elaina wasn’t in terrorist hands any longer, but manipulating Michael had been the goal all along, so their family was still in danger.
Without Elaina in their hands, what depths would the terrorists sink to?
She didn’t have any idea how many more of them were on the ship or how long it would take before someone on the outside noticed that their ship was in distress.
Her stomach sank as she approached Michael’s cabin. The door was closed, the hallway strangely silent. She set Elaina down and pressed her ear to the wood, praying Jordan was in there. He had to have made it back.
He’d done his part. The zip line had snapped, and it had been enough to keep the terrorists from sending her niece to the other boat. Elaina was free. But had he been caught?
