Her Secret Pirate (3 page)

He nodded. “He’s been taken. Let’s go up.”

Rebecca shook her head. Something about this didn’t seem right.
“Wait. We were down two levels when the lights went off. Someone tried to grab me but I got away and ran
up here. I heard Dad calling my name
but we got separated. No one has come up here. I’ve moved around but not far from the stairs.”

Zone frowned. “The lights went off and you were attacked immediately?”

“Yes.”

“When did your security detail order you to come down?”

“When
the pirates started firing at the ship
and managed to come close enough to board.” It was her turn to frown. “They shouldn’t be on us so quickly, right? And the lights shouldn’t have gone off that fast either.”

“Right.” Zone clicked on his belt again. “Joker, count the security personnel. Ask for who’s missing. Any chance you can kill the emergency lights from up there? ASAP. Suspicion of breach in the ambassador’s security detail.
Stay at position one.
Over.” He p
ointed to the stack of boxes where
she’
d been hiding. “Rebecca, get back there now and stay out of sight.”

“Be careful,” she mouthed.

She followed his order, squeezi
ng behind a few disarrayed cartons
. Peering between them, she watched Zone kneel down in front of her attacker. His hand struck downwards, fast like a snake coming at its prey, and the tied man’s head dropped sideways. She’d barely processed what Zone had done when the lights gave a strange hum, dimmed, and went out, and she was back in darkness once again.

This time, she wasn’t as afraid. Zone was here, even though she couldn’t see or hear him. She pinched herself. Ow. Okay, she hadn’t fallen asleep and dreamed him up. He was really, really here. Her eyes tried to pierce the veil of darkness.

“Copy.” His voice floated to her.

It was just the merest whisper but it was reassuring to know he was close by. He must still be communicating with members of his team. What was his plan? She was worried about her father. Was he injured? Zone hadn’t said he was, just that he was coming up with the pirate. No, not pirate. Zone’s question
s had planted the suspicion
whoever had her father was
one of their own. The idea of someone close having
betrayed them explained the coincidence of the pirates’ appearance just after most of the media had left and before the Navy ship’s arrival to pick them up.
Only a few key people would know the precise timetable.
She tried to remember who had been with them as they rushed down. Johnson? No, he was still on deck, instructing the other men. Sandow? No.

Panfilo. Rebecca bit her lip. Panfilo had been her personal guard for a few months now, accompanying her as she traveled back and forth from the States. He was a big man and was hired for his fighting s
kills. She needed to warn Zone.

The stairs doorway creaked. She froze, holding her breath, her eyes straining, trying to see. The footsteps sounded hesitant, as if the owner was unsure. A thud.

“Keep moving,” a voice commanded. Then she heard her father’s gasp
of pain
.

Rebecca put a fist over her mouth. Panfilo. And the first set of footsteps, the one she heard stumbling, must be her father’s.

The other stairway was through another door just around the corner. She hadn’t dared climb them
when she was alone, afraid
the noise of treading the metal steps would attract the other pirates. Zone would know they were heading that way.

There
hadn’t been time to ask what his plan was
but she had a feeling Zone wasn’t going to allow Panfilo and her father to get to a lighted area.
She recalled the lessons about studying an attacker’s mentality—how and when he might approach. As the classes were mostly filled with women, their main concerns were situations like being robbed or assaulted, say, in a parking lot. An
attacke
r always chose a dark area or pick
ed
the victim
with her hands full
.
The element of surprise would give him the advantage. Zone had repeated the mantra often: Easy target, surprise attack, quick subjugation, complete defeat.
Odd how she finally grasped
those lessons in the belly of ship.

It was surreal to be figuring ou
t Zone’s next move
. He was
playing the role of the aggressor
here, waiting for his vict
im, who was walking in the dark
with his hands full. Prime for an attack.

She stared into the darkness, in the direction of the oncoming men. The wait was agonizing. A thousand what-ifs flew through her mind, making her even more jittery. How could Zone do this day in and day out? She would be a nervous wreck in no time.

Everything happened at once.

She heard Zone’s crisply worded “Now.” The lights came back on.
Up the passage, s
he saw her father and Panfilo
both looking up, e
yes squinting in surprise.
Zone was
already
there, reaching in, snapping Panfino’s arm back, and everything became a blur
of motion
. She bit down on her knuckles as she watched the men struggle. Panfino still had his weapon but his hold on her father had loosened as he fended off Zone’s hits. Someone pushed her father out of the way.

Panfilo kicked out. To her relief, Zone
avoided
it while
still managing to hol
d on to Panfilo
. Then Zone swung the other man’s arm
sideways and she heard a crack. The weapon dr
opped to the ground.
Panfilo didn’t make a sound as he fought back with a vicious side punch that connected. He bent down to retrieve the gun but was slammed hard
into the wall
.
He retaliated with another kick.

She had only seen beautifully choreographed exhibition fights, never like this, with life-or-death consequences. Zone had placed himself between her father and Panfilo, giving her father a chance to escape. Panfilo took the moment to dive for the gun on the floor. Zone fell on top of him and they rolled around, each trying to gain the upper hand.

When Panfilo’s hand covered Zone’s face, trying to push his fingers into his eyes, Rebecca couldn’t take it any more. She pushed the boxes aside, forgetting about everything except the urgency to help her man. She ignored her father’s calling her name, her gaze riveted on the deadly struggle. Zone had somehow pried the man’s hand away from his face. He head-butted Panfilo and with a grunt, rolled on top of him.
She could see Panfilo’s hand at Zone’s throat, squeezing and pushing. To her relief, Zone managed an uppercut that left
his opponent dazed for a second
.

Not long enough to be subdued, though. Panfilo blocked the next punch.
Reached for the nearby gun again. Zone made a grab for it too.

It was a tight passageway, not meant for two bodies to roll around on the floor. Panfilo’s head connected with the wall with a horrible crack. But he still managed to strike out as they both tumbled like drunks trying to find their footing. Half-sitting, half leaning, arms and legs tangling. Down again.

It was horrifying to watch. The men’s breathing was heavy. The
walls echoed the grunts and growls, making it sound like a dozen men were fighting instead of two.

Move countered move. Another roll. Another. Her heart stopped as a gunshot rang out. Zone’s body slumped and stopped moving for a long moment.

No! No, no, no, please God, no!

Rebecca choked o
ut the strangled sobs
stuck in her throat. Her feet felt like lead
as she tried to run forward
. Then she saw Zone sit up. His hand moved to his belt.

“Hostile down. Ambassador and Miss Powers safe. Is all clear to go up on deck? Over.”

“Zone,” she breathed out, relief making her knees weak. She fell into her father’s arms. All she could say was, “Dad. Zone.”

“Becky!” Her father’s voice sounded far away.

She tried to focus. Her limbs felt like jello, refusing to cooperate.
Her brain kept repeating “he’s okay, he’s okay” even as the whole violent scene replayed over and over in h
er head
.

“With your permission, sir.”

“Yes, yes, o
f course.”

Suddenly it was Zone carrying her. She looked up, his face smeared with red, green and black, and never had he looked so good. She said his name again and felt like an idiot for having broken off with him because of a stupid argument. He wasn’t a killer; he’d put her and her father’s lives before his.
She almost lost him.

“It’s all right,” he reassured her. “Your father’s safe and you’re going to be okay.”

“I didn’t faint. I can walk,” she said.

“I much prefer this.”

He held her against his chest and it felt so good to hear his
strong
heartbeat. She reached up and touched his face. “I’m sorry about our argument. I was wrong.”

He smiled that sinfully sexy smile, making her forget the rest of he
r
planned apology. He shook his head, mouthing “okay” before setting her on her feet at the stairwell.

“Thank you,” her father said, “for coming here in time. I never realized anything was wrong and let Panfilo into the safe room when he said it was him. It’s
Zonovich
, isn’t it? I barely recognize you without that bandanna.”

“Yes, it’s me, sir.”

“All clear.” Someone said from above. “We’re escorting the Ambassador to our ship ASAP. His security detail will have to be verified.”

It made sense
the SEALs weren’t going to trust anyone right now. They went out on deck and Rebecca watched as the ambassado
r shook hands with the men garb
ed exactly like Zone. Only four of them against all the pirates? She knew about the SEALs’ training, of course, but reading about their skills and watching them in action—okay, just one, but at close quarters—were two different things.

Contrast to the suffocating silence while she was hiding, there was now a frenzy of activity on deck. Those who had accompanied her father. The crew. The rest of the security detail. The only group not moving were the four SEALs, who stood and kept their attention on the Ambassador. She listened to their quiet exchange while her father went over to talk to Johnson, his security chief.

“All hostiles accounted for. All the security detail,” one of them said. “The media’s flying in. Let’s hope we get off before they arrive.”

“Yeah. At least we have our best make up on for their cameras.”

“Damn, Cumber, we should’ve brought our
Hollywood
shades, man.”

“Unlike you guys, I look great with or without them. Nice first shots there, three for three.” The tallest of them thumbed toward the far end of the deck. “What happened to your face, Zone? Pirate got you?”

“Small resistance,” Zone replied. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“He was busy talking, I bet.”

“Busy something-something, I bet.”

“Can’t blame him. I heard he and the Ambassador’s daughter were…acquainted.”

“Dude, he practically begged Hawk to let him come with us. Bet you they’re more than—”

She tugged at Zone’s belt. He took a step back and lowered his head so her words were for him alone.

“You’d better text me your next shore leave. We need to talk,” she murmured. “After today, I definitely prefer you as the pirate.”

His smile was slow and hot, the kind that promised more than talking. Instead of being in shock or hugging her father, she was standing in her bare feet, grinning foolishly like some infatuated teenager.
So much to say, and so little time. She really should stop staring.
But his smile . . . and that mouth . . . she went on tiptoe and kissed his chin. If there weren’t three other SEALs looking at them with interested smirks, she’d have jumped back into his arms and kissed him silly. His head turned. His lips brushed against her ear.

“Arrrrr,” he said.

EPILOGUE

Despite their best efforts, the media never got close to the SEALs. Rebecca saw a newspaper article detailing the inci
dent at sea. There was a photo
of the Ambassador and her. There were pictures of uniformed personnel escorting them to the boat that took them to the Navy ship. The four SEALs with the camouflaged faces weren’t there. One moment, when she’d turned a
fter joining her father, she saw
them still standing watch in the shadows. Next, they were gone.

It was like a dream.

She remembered all that had happened with vivid detail—the sudden shouts, the frantic rush to get to the safe room, hiding in the dark by
herself, and especially the hero
who came to her rescue.