Protector in Disguise, page 18
With the alarms blaring, Fiona could barely concentrate. She preferred having the ability to hear people come up behind her, but this was an exceptional situation. She scanned the area. The guard who had been at the control panel had blood from the knife in his neck soaking into his blue linen shirt. Fiona hadn’t wanted to kill the man, but he’d pulled a gun on her and dodging bullets would have seriously stalled her rescue of Jason, and the gunshots would have alerted the others that someone had infiltrated the ship. She refused to place Meaghan at risk.
The engine remained stalled out with whatever Sam and Calvin had concocted to destabilize the technology aboard the boat, but they’d insisted that she set the fire alarm off to override the generator from starting up automatically. Although she expected someone to arrive soon, she never expected the grate under the engine to open. She pulled out another knife, ready to defend herself, but recognized the rough skin and long fingers of her husband. The area he was attempting to extricate himself from seemed impossibly small for his long body.
She hustled to his side. Touched his arm as if to see if he were real. “Jason?”
“Fi. Are you okay?” He smiled up at her, then twisted his leg from under the quiet engine.
“I was going to ask that of you. How did you get there?” She pointed to the impossibly small space.
“I didn’t think anyone would look for me there.”
“I definitely wouldn’t have.” She wrapped her arms around him, knowing it could only last seconds, but gaining strength from the contact with the man who she would risk anything for. “I’m good and so is Matt. Steve found us floating in the water. It was a miracle.” She didn’t have time to go into specifics. They’d have to reconnect over the details when they were safe and away from Porras and his men.
He lifted her chin and kissed her with an intensity that welcomed her back from the dead and apologized for all the pain he’d put her through. She kissed him back with her own apology for her lost faith in him and a promise to never give up on him. They pulled apart reluctantly.
“Tell Jason we have his back,” Steve spoke into her earpiece.
His presence in her ear calmed her. Help was on the way. “Steve and Sam are intending to board the boat in a few minutes,” she told Jason. “Meaghan is on deck looking for you.”
He shifted toward the side of her face. “You can’t get here fast enough, partner.” He spoke directly into her earpiece before nipping her earlobe. “Okay, let’s go find her.”
She nodded and they slipped out of the engine room, making sure they didn’t run into anyone in the hall. The loud scatter of men rushing here and there made for a slow, jerky trip from the engine room to the main deck. They slid up the stairs after several close calls but eventually hid behind the bar and waited. What they found made Fiona’s blood boil. While she was having a reunion with her husband, Meaghan had been captured and handcuffed to a chair. A very heavy chair that could take her to the bottom of the ocean if someone decided to toss her overboard the way they’d sent Matt.
They must have assumed she was the only one on board, because their urgency was more in getting the boat going than searching for someone. Until the dead man by the control panel was discovered. Several cries for assistance came from underneath. One of the two men standing guard over Meaghan rushed off to see what had happened belowdecks. The other looked out toward the sea, watching over their position, looking for anyone following them.
Fiona and Jason had only a moment to create enough chaos to rescue Meaghan and allow the team to board.
Jason pulled a fire extinguisher off the wall, while Fiona lifted a tray of empty glasses not yet carted away to the kitchen.
“On three,” Jason whispered.
Fiona nodded.
Footsteps climbed the stairs. Heavy ones that were probably attached to someone who was heavily armed. Fiona held her breath for a moment and said a quick prayer that luck would fall on her side in this situation.
She looked back at Jason, who mouthed the word “three.” There would be no going back from this. She’d fight to save the people she loved or die trying. There was no in-between in this game. She hustled to the other side of the boat and tossed all the glasses at once onto the floor, then backtracked. She could hear the men scurry over to the area away from her position.
Now she’d have to trust that Jason could fight them back while she released Meaghan. She rushed over to her. Meaghan looked at her, the relief evident. Fiona placed a finger over her lips to keep her silent.
She took out a pin from the knife holster and pulled Meaghan’s hands toward her. The sounds of gunshots rang out behind her. She only had seconds. She wedged the pin into the slot, shifted it back and forth and then twisted until she heard a slight click. One cuff opened. That was enough for now. She dropped the pin into Meaghan’s free hand, before turning to face whoever was running into the area.
The crew member who had rushed belowdecks had come back, gun in hand. He pointed it in Meaghan’s face, then pivoted to Fiona. Fiona held her breath. Meaghan remained calm and kept her hands behind her as though they were still secured behind her back. Fiona lifted her arms up in a surrender. She stepped toward the man, allowed his gun to press into her skin. The proximity would only help her. Remembering how Porras had treated his men when she’d been a prisoner, she worked under the assumption that this guy didn’t have the authorization to kill her, and he’d be punished for doing so without a direct order. That second of indecision that passed through him provided her with an opportunity to clasp her hand on the barrel of the gun and twist it in a way that yanked it from his grip.
She turned away from him, the gun now in her hand. With a low drop to the floor followed by a swipe of her leg under him, she dropped him. He landed with a thud on his back, still reeling from her first attack. She stood over him, the gun pointed at his chest.
“Don’t move.” She stared at the man with such intensity, she left no doubt in his mind that she was more than willing and able to pull the trigger. Meaghan stood by her side, the cuffs now dangling from her finger.
“Cuff him,” Fiona said.
Without a word, Meaghan turned the man over on his stomach and yanked back his arms in a move that an experienced police officer would be able to handle in their sleep. She put one on and then secured him to the same pole they’d tied Jason to.
“Where’s Jason?” Meaghan asked, a question in her expression.
“He’s holding off two other men. I hope.” She sped away to where she’d broken the glasses. There was one man on the ground, his head bleeding from what had probably been the fire extinguisher. Jason and the other man were at a standoff. Jason still holding the fire extinguisher and the man holding on to a military grade rifle.
Without a word, Fiona pointed the gun at him, baiting him away from her husband. He took the carrot and turned his weapon toward her. As though in slow motion, she saw Jason call out to her, and could hear Meaghan yelling to her to get down, but there was no moment to contemplate every possible choice, every possible outcome. Instinct, muscle memory, a keen survival instinct. They all churned together to make the decision for her. She shot him dead before he got to her.
As his body tumbled to the ground, Jason reached her side. He stepped in front of her and took the gun that had only a moment before been pointed in her direction. Meaghan knelt down beside the man and checked his pulse, but the shot had been almost point-blank into his chest. The blood loss enormous. The damage inside not survivable.
Jason pulled her into his arms. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. Nothing physical, and she wouldn’t allow herself to think of the psychological damage until she had her family intact once again. “I’ll be fine. We need to get off this thing.”
“Meaghan?”
“I’m fine too,” Meaghan said from behind them.
The tension in Jason’s face diminished. He rubbed Fiona’s back, probably as soothing to him as it was for her. “This whole situation has been more stressful than anything I’ve been through in my life.”
“How adorable. A family reunion.” Porras stepped forward and pointed his gun at Fiona.
A sharp, searing pain ripped through her right leg, causing her to gasp and stumble backward. He’d shot her. She clutched her wounded calf, feeling warm blood soaking through her fingers. Panic over Jason’s and Meaghan’s safety flooded her as she looked up to see Porras, his eyes cold and calculating, continuing to point his gun at her.
“You should have stayed out of this,” Porras said, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Fiona refused to let fear paralyze her. With a burst of adrenaline, she pushed through the pain and lunged behind the bar, praying it would shield her from the hail of bullets.
Jason rushed to her side. Before he could reach her, Porras caught sight of him. Porras sneered as he raised his gun again. This time, it was aimed at Jason. “You can’t escape your fate, Jason. You will watch your wife die.”
She couldn’t see Andres, only Jason’s expression. So much hatred and a flickering of fear. Without a weapon, he could do little to protect her.
Yet, in the moment she prayed for his safety, he chose to push away from Fiona and launch himself at Porras, knocking the gun out of his hand. The two men struggled for dominance, fists flying fiercely in a desperate struggle for survival.
Fiona could only watch from the sidelines, the gunshot wound stripping the strength from her. She shredded a dish cloth she located on a shelf to tie above the wound and stem the flow of blood already puddling through her sweatpants onto the floor.
As Jason fought to overpower Porras to her right, Fiona caught a glimpse of Meaghan’s struggle. Her friend fought with every ounce of strength and skill she possessed against two men on the deck. The more she fought, the more they came back at her. Blow after blow landed on Meaghan. Her eyes teared up from the pain. Fear for both of them surged through Fiona. Her energy crashed and she watched, helpless to protect them. Jason landed a sharp uppercut to Porras’s chin, sending him stumbling backward, momentarily dazed.
At the same time, Meaghan found an opening and delivered a swift and devastating strike that left one of the men unconscious on the deck.
But before they could fully savor their victories, a second gunshot rang out. Jason stumbled back into a chair. His face paled and his eyes fluttered closed. The momentum sent him careening out of her view. As Meaghan dove on the man who had shot him, Fiona screamed out.
Her heart wouldn’t bear losing him again. Summoning every ounce of determination, Fiona stood and faced Porras, fury blocking out the pain burning through her leg. They circled each other, both battered and bleeding, but neither willing to back down. She didn’t care if he killed her as long as she could take him out with her and end this senseless attack on her family.
Beside her, Meaghan sent one of the men overboard with a roundhouse kick, then was pushed back into a wall, a fist to her face. Blood dripped from her nose, but she continued to fight, even overpowered.
As Fiona stepped toward Porras, something hit her from behind. She struggled to remain standing, but her strength was draining as fast as the blood flowing out of her leg. The ship blurred around her though she fought to stay conscious, her vision narrowing to only the dark sky overhead.
Before the outcome of their struggle could be determined, darkness claimed her, and she succumbed to the void, praying that Jason and Meaghan would somehow find a way to survive. In the depths of her unconsciousness, time stood still, and her mind drifted through a haze of memories and dreams. She saw glimpses of her old life with Jason—their laughter, their love, their hopes for the future and sweet moments with Matt. A sharp pain shot through her and her mind twisted, conjuring the vivid faces of people she’d been tasked to eliminate when she’d worked for the government. Her sins coming to take her to hell.
Chapter 21
Jason had tumbled backwards into a chair, a bullet skimming his shoulder. He glanced back at Fiona. Her skin had turned a ghastly pale, her leg soaked in blood from the gunshot wound. At the same time, Meaghan fought against overwhelming odds, her luck shifting downward. The pressing need to rescue both of them and get revenge for Porras destroying his family’s peaceful existence crashed over him, but he was too outnumbered, at least for now.
His thoughts were interrupted by the roar of engines. Looking out over the stern of the yacht, he caught sight of a speedboat advancing at breakneck speed toward the yacht. Steve was at the helm, with Sam holding a rifle in his hands. For a moment, Jason felt the weight lift off his shoulders, but a gunshot from behind him toward the boat had him terrified he’d lose everyone he cared about today. And each loss would be tied directly to his lie.
The last of the men protecting Porras had turned their attention toward the incoming boat, their own vessel still crippled by the cyberattack. Jason took that chance to throw one of the men overboard and punch another so hard with an uppercut, the man fell flat to the floor, losing his rifle to Jason in the process. Steve never swerved off his destination, despite the gunfire. As the large boat skidded to a stop beside the yacht, Sam leaped onto the lower deck, taking out one of Porras’s men in the process. Their timing couldn’t have been better.
Jason sprinted towards Meaghan, her face swollen from the beating and slammed aside the asshole using her as a punching bag.
“Thanks,” Meaghan breathed, stumbling back and shaking out the impacts. Before Jason could respond, she lunged at the same man. He never saw the punch coming, and with a satisfying thud, he dropped to the deck, knocked out cold by one very pissed-off woman.
Porras and the two remaining guards had fled to another section of the boat, no doubt to reorganize and get more ammunition.
Fiona remained motionless on the ground. Jason squatted beside her. Her pulse carried on as a faint rhythm, assuring him she still had a chance of surviving this, but not for long.
“We need to get Fiona out of here,” Jason called out to Sam, who was circling the deck, making sure the area was clear.
After disabling another guard who had wandered into the area, Sam rushed over to help. Together, they carefully lifted Fiona and made their way to the speedboat.
When she was placed behind Steve, his eyes narrowed on her injuries and her weakened condition. As he secured her in a blanket on the floor of the boat, he pointed a handgun and shot over Jason’s shoulder. Jason spun around and saw one of Porras’s thugs drop.
“Anyone else need medical care?” Steve called out to him.
Jason’s shoulder was bleeding, but not too much. He didn’t have the luxury to step back, not while Porras was still hell-bent in chasing down his family. He glanced at Meaghan, her face now swollen. She shook her head. He’d never get her off the yacht until she either took out the cartel or died trying.
“Not yet, but we have this. Go. Fiona’s losing too much blood to survive much longer.”
“I’ll get her to the mainland for medical assistance.”
Jason paused, afraid to let her go without him, but he had to finish this here and now. “Okay. Take care of her.”
“Always.” Steve pushed the throttle and turned away from the yacht, reaching top speed toward the mainland.
As the speedboat roared away, Jason turned his attention to the cause of this hellscape. “Porras!” he shouted, his temper seconds from detonating.
Sam waved down from the bridge. He’d taken it over and somehow restarted the engines. Jason could feel the lean of the boat as it turned toward the mainland, following Steve’s course. He ran back to the bow and found Meaghan, blood dripping from her nose and a black-and-blue mark on her cheek and under her eyes, pointing a rifle at five men with their hands up and their weapons kicked out in front of them. There were two casualties on the ground in front, and she seemed primed to take out anyone else who stepped toward her. Jason backed her up, using the men’s own duct tape to secure them, then scanned the area for anyone else free. Porras was nowhere to be found.
When Meaghan tied up the last thug, Jason descended into the belly of the ship with Meaghan right behind him, adding to his arsenal as he searched for Porras.
They moved systematically through the ship’s quarters. They entered each bedroom, knocking open the closets and bathrooms, checking under every bed. When they reached the galley, Jason caught sight of a man, cornered and looking like a caged animal. Montana was beside him, her expression a mix of fear and defiance. As Jason approached, the man in front of him came into focus. This was a fourteen-or fifteen-year-old boy. Same hair and build as Porras, but slighter. His eyes wore the same tension as Montana’s.
Jason’s hand clenched around the grip of his pistol. Another son? The thought drained his rage. This would never end. It would cycle over and over again for generations if he didn’t find a way to stop it. Another Porras, someone who could hunt down Matt for years. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to pull the trigger, to end the cycle of revenge and pain. But he remembered Fiona’s plea from days past. “An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind,” she’d whispered.
He agreed with her. He’d never kill an innocent boy. He couldn’t.
Letting out a deep breath, he lowered the gun and Meaghan came around next to him. “I have nothing against you or your son,” he said to Montana, his voice cold. “Porras, however, shot my wife and wants to kill my child. Where is he?”
The boy made a sharp move, pulling a gun from behind him. Before he could even point the gun, Meaghan lunged, expertly disarming him. A swift kick to his knees brought him crashing to the ground. Jason moved in, tying his hands behind his back and those of Montana.
Montana didn’t fight him. Instead, she dropped her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. “You could have killed him,” she whispered.
