Hunted (28 page)

“Ag-gain,” she commanded. Their next combined blow made the wood creak. It gave Zoe hope.

Another kick.
Bam.
The door thudded under the force, the wood cracking this time. Zoe bent her knees and drew her legs back again, ready to smash through the wood. Determined to. One more might do it.

Heavy treads on the outside steps reached them from above. They both stilled, listening in the pitch darkness. More movement.

Zoe’s heart thudded against her ribs.

“Oh shit, it’s him,” Leticia whispered, her voice laced with terror. She trembled so hard Zoe could hear her muscles shuddering.

No.
Zoe squeezed her eyes shut and fought back a scream of denial as the front door opened and closed. Ragged breathing sounded in the hallway, then ominous footsteps heading toward them.

Carlos had returned. And now there was no escape for either of them.

Carlos paused in the act of readying the aluminum fishing boat to swipe the back of his forearm across his sweaty forehead. The bite wound in the side of his neck stung like fucking hell and his shirt was stained with blood. More dripped down the side of his neck, trailing over his chest and shoulder. She’d gotten him good, the bitch.

He cast a glance back at the nearest tree line. The sun had gone down almost an hour ago so it was dark outside but with that nosy neighbor likely still sniffing around for the past fifteen minutes he couldn’t afford to wait here any longer. He’d have to move him and Leticia to a different hiding spot to wait.

He was sure that old bastard next door had called the cops to check out the place, and he was probably prowling around with his shotgun right now. If he’d called, cops would arrive in as little as twenty minutes from now. Carlos had to be long gone by then and the boat was the safest way to move him and Leticia. The countermeasures he’d set up previously on the property would buy him some time, but it wouldn’t hold them off for the three hours remaining until his friends were due to transport he and Leticia across the Gulf.

Carlos yanked the final knot on the rope tight, tying the boat to the dock. There was enough room in it for him, Leticia, some weapons and other supplies like water and food and medical stuff, just in case. But dammit, none of this was working out the way he thought it would.

Yes, he’d expected her to put up resistance at getting back together and he’d known she would pitch a fit about leaving her son behind. He kept fighting the irrational yet growing fear that he’d never reach her the way he once had. That the magic he’d found only with her was dead and would never be resurrected.

His hands shook as he threw a duffel full of supplies and weapons into the bottom of the boat. He’d intended to have more time with her to soothe her fears before they left but that wasn’t an option anymore and he had no choice now but to leave.

Once he pulled Leticia out of the cellar and killed that interfering bitch Zoe, they’d be on their way and he wouldn’t look back. He would have shot her already but he’d needed to stash both women where the neighbor and the cops couldn’t see them, in case they surprised Carlos in the middle of his preparations.

The sounds of the swamp surrounded him as he grabbed the can of fuel he’d just filled the boat motor with and rushed back to the cabin—insects and nocturnal animals just beginning their nightly hunt. Shame they wouldn’t have pieces of Zoe to snack on as he’d originally intended but he didn’t have time to put her in the wood chipper anymore and the noise would only draw more unwanted attention and investigation.

The terror on her face when she’d realized what he intended had filled him with power. One that had quickly disappeared when she’d taken a chunk out of his hide.

He swore, batted away the insects swarming around him, drawn to the fresh scent of blood. At the cabin he splashed the remaining gas on the porch and doorway, careful not to get any on him.

His breathing sounded over-pronounced to him as he pulled the front door open and paused inside the threshold to take stock. All was quiet, and dark except for the lamp he’d left on in the corner of the kitchen. His gaze shot to the rectangular shape of the trapdoor cut into the linoleum floor.

No noise from the cellar, but he knew they wouldn’t have stayed locked in there quietly. Anxiety pulsed through him at the thought of what was coming. It was going to be near impossible to get Leticia to come with him willingly now. He’d have to drug her. That didn’t bother him as much as the thought of her closing off from him forever.

Screw it. Nothing he could do about it at this point and he wasn’t waiting around for the cops to show up, even if he was more than ready for a shootout to get Leticia away from here.

He yanked out the piece of wood he’d jammed into the handle to lock the women inside and tossed it aside with a clatter before jerking the door upward. Although he’d braced himself for the possibility of an attack, neither one tried it.

In the blackness below him he couldn’t see either of them but he could hear their breathing, shallow and nervous. Both women had good reason to be scared, but Zoe especially. His jaw clenched. She was going to pay for what she’d done, both to his and Leticia’s relationship, and for the chunk missing from the side of his neck. Plus she’d overheard his plans and had witnessed everything. She had to die.

Blood continued to trickle over his skin, hot and sticky, its smell nauseating in the muggy air. Crouching down next to the opening, he caught a glimpse of brown hair off in one corner. He reached in one hand and grabbed Leticia by the shoulder. “Come on. We’ve gotta go.”

“Just leave me alone,” she rasped out, trying without success to pull out of his grasp.

Ignoring her, he hauled her up and through the trap door, his muscles straining to lift her because she was a dead weight. Carlos set her on her feet, his heart constricting at the sight of the tear tracks on her face.

She didn’t just look sad, she looked devastated. And the hatred he saw burning in her eyes was like a punch to the diaphragm, momentarily shoving the air from his lungs.

No. He would win her back, no matter what it took or how long. Once they reached Mexico she’d have no other option but to turn to him and he would use it to his advantage.

He wasn’t letting her scream for help all the way to the new pickup location, however.

Impatient and out of time, Carlos pulled out the bandana he’d put in his back pocket and used it to gag her. He was just tying the ends behind her head when the device in his front pocket buzzed.

The alarm for the sensors he’d placed at the northern perimeter of the property.

He pulled it out and checked the readings. Someone had triggered the northwest one, planted into the ground at the base of a large tree. At that spot they had to be on foot, so it gave Carlos only a few minutes to get out onto the water. Maybe the neighbor, who’d obviously still been on his own property when he’d heard them fifteen minutes ago, otherwise he would have triggered the silent alarm then.

Or it could be the cops. Whoever it was, if they tried to infiltrate past the inner perimeter he’d set, he’d know soon enough.

He shoved the device back into his pocket and grabbed Leticia, putting her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. She wriggled around and squawked but he held her in place easily enough.

Now to give Zoe what was coming to her.

Turning for the door, he pulled his weapon from the back of his waistband, aimed it into the cellar. When he caught a flash of movement below, he adjusted and fired twice, back-to-back. Leticia reared up against his back, her muffled scream battering his left ear as he rushed for the front door. He didn’t stop to see if she was dead, because after what he was about to do next, she would be soon enough.

Adrenaline punched through him as he readied for the run for the boat, his body primed for action. His hand had just closed around the doorknob when a loud boom behind him at the inner perimeter shattered the night.

****

“Be advised, we just heard two gunshots from inside. Over.”

Clay’s heart nearly stopped at the announcement from one of the snipers through his waterproof earpiece.
Zoe.
He faltered beneath the water for an instant before forcing himself to move forward and refocus. It was dark and murky, making it difficult to see but his training kept him oriented and he’d navigated in far worse conditions than these.

He mentally pushed away any thought of Zoe and focused on the task at hand. He was leading this op. The most dangerous part was when they had to transition from water to land on the opposite bank, leaving them exposed, then move in on the cabin.

He consciously slowed his heart rate, reducing his body’s demand for oxygen so he could hold his breath for longer. Something he’d learned and mastered during his long journey to making the Teams. The muddy floor of the bayou he was walking on began to slope upward as they approached the shore.

Soundlessly, with hardly a ripple, Clay’s head breached the surface of the water. Keeping his mouth and nose above the surface and the scope on his rifle at eye level he crept through the shallows at the head of his team.

The cabin was less than fifty yards away at their eleven o’clock. A faint light glowed through one of the front windows. They couldn’t see into the building because blinds covered every door and window. Their two sniper teams had also reported zero visibility from their positions in the woods prior to Clay and his assault team entering the water.

There was no movement. A small aluminum boat was waiting at the end of the dock.

You’re not getting away that easily, motherfucker.

He zeroed back in on the cabin. The sniper teams had reported Ruiz running from the boat to the cabin when they’d first gotten into position. No mention of females or other hostages. Every intel report, including the informant who’d ratted out Ruiz, said Zoe and Leticia would be here.

Keeping to the deepest shadows lining the bank, Clay slid forward through the water. He was in his element now. This was his world and he was about to give Ruiz a violent introduction to what it felt like to be on the receiving end of an assault team made up of former tier-one operators.

The team moved as one unit, barely making a sound as they waded through the water. The steady hum of insects and croak of frogs surrounded them. A sudden explosion from somewhere behind the structure made him freeze in place. The faint flash had come from somewhere back in the trees. A second later one of their snipers came through his earpiece.

“Civilian just tripped some kind of booby-trap about thirty meters northwest of the target,” the man murmured. “I’m calling for backup to intercept him.”

They couldn’t break radio silence without risk of giving away their position, and Clay wasn’t surprised when Tuck didn’t respond. In their various briefings they’d been told to expect booby-traps and for Ruiz to be heavily armed, likely wearing body armor. Still plenty of ways to bring him down, and that’s what they were going to do. Their only concern was securing Ruiz and extracting his hostages.

With a hand signal Clay gave the order to advance and as one they moved forward once more, aiming for the edge of the bank ahead. He halted when the front door of the cabin suddenly burst open and Ruiz appeared carrying a woman over his shoulder.

She was limp, bound and gagged. Clay’s heart stuttered but when Ruiz swung around to scan the area in front of him, the faint light from inside showed her hair was light brown, not black-and-purple.

No sign of Zoe. His gut sank. Had those two shots the sniper team reported been pumped into her?

A cold, deadly resolve filled him.

He was taking Ruiz down one way or another, whatever it took. He was getting Zoe out of there no matter what. Whether she was alive or dead he would carry her out himself, at least get to hold her close one last time.

No. Not happening. She isn’t dead.

He slammed the possibility into a steel box in the back of his mind. Hidden by the shadows, he and the others stayed in place as Ruiz hurried down the steps. Once on the grass he paused only to pull something from his pocket and toss it toward the door.

Clay caught the flicker of a flame, realized it was a lighter. He watched, helpless, as it hit the porch floor and ignited with a whoosh. A moment later the entire front entrance went up in flames as Ruiz turned and raced across the grass toward the dock.

****

Down in the darkness Zoe’s heart was in her throat as Carlos’s footsteps faded away overhead in the distance. She lay in the corner of the cellar where she’d been cowering, the warmth of her own blood trickling down her arm.

Those bullets had buried themselves into a wooden beam behind her, missing her by inches. Bits of wood had exploded, some of them piercing her skin. If she hadn’t been moving when Carlos fired, she’d be dead or dying right now.

Her breathing was shallow and amplified by the sudden silence. She had no idea what that loud boom had been, but it couldn’t be good. And she wasn’t sticking around here for Carlos to come back and make sure he’d killed her.

The front door shut with a bang. She pushed up on wobbly legs and gripped the edge of the open trap door to boost herself through the hole, not an easy feat the way her muscles were shaking.

Her gaze immediately shot to the door. Carlos was outside, presumably running with Leticia toward the dock. Zoe was terrified for her, but she had no way to stop Carlos and the best way to help Leticia was to escape and inform the cops about everything.

I’m so outta here.

Shoving to her feet, she took off toward the door. He’d see her but she was counting on him being distracted with getting to the boat. She’d sprint out and veer around the corner before he could get a bead on her—

Something clunked on the front porch. She faltered, a bolt of terror spiking through her as she braced herself for the sight of him charging back inside. Then she heard a soft whump and caught a flash of light at the door, a wave of heat washing over her in the hallway. Followed by the distinctive, acrid smell of smoke.