KissedByASEAL (17 page)

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Authors: Cat Johnson

BOOK: KissedByASEAL
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“Fine” She took off one and then moved to take out the other when she realized the earpiece was gone.

Panic hit her hard. The only way she had to communicate with Chris and it was lost. It must have gotten knocked out when he’d hit her. It must be on the floor. She’d have to look for it but she had to make these bastards go elsewhere first.

She thrust her fist at him, the worthless earrings in her hand. “Here. Take them.”

He grabbed the fake diamonds and moved on, but she didn’t see to where. Her gaze remained on the carpet searching for her one link to Chris.

CHAPTER 16

“Darci. Darci!”

She didn’t answer.

The last thing Chris had heard was them shouting at her to give them her valuables, and her shouting back. Damn, stupid, brave woman, yelling at men carrying what sounded like automatic weapons, judging by her description.

He still couldn’t grasp that they’d been boarded.

Un-fucking-believable.

It was the Maersk Alabama nightmare all over again. He had no doubt these guys were equally as untrained as the Somalis had been. Nothing more than a small group of pirates with guns and a skiff and nothing to lose. Just out to make a buck. Yet they’d taken control of the vessel.

And they had Darci.

The fact the compass on his watch told him they were heading the wrong direction told him a lot. Mainly that the three men Darci had seen in the dining room probably weren’t the only ones on board.

Someone was steering this boat away from the United States and he doubted it was the captain. The man he’d talked to had worked for the resort for nearly twenty years and was a Navy veteran.

Chris was divided, a single man fighting a war with two fronts—the dining room where there were three men and a room full of hostages, and the bridge where the captain was either incapacitated or navigating them farther away from the US and into international waters under duress.

He opted for the bridge. They’d probably only left one man to guard the captain. Once he took out that threat, he could radio for help and cut the damn engine before they ended up in Cuba.

Given that it sounded to him like the men were speaking a Spanish dialect, that could have been their plan all along—to take the yacht.

The guests and their valuables could be just a bonus to them. And Darci was there in the middle of it.

Chris blew out a breath and pressed his back against the wall as he made his way up the stairs to the bridge. He had his Glock out. The suppressor he’d decided to bring along on a whim was in place.

He’d heard that single burst of gunfire in the dining room over the comm. He’d heard the screams. Worst of all, he’d stopped hearing Darci’s voice. There was no doubt in his mind that these men were armed and threatening.

Jon hadn’t given Chris any rules of engagement for this op, but hell, he didn’t need any. He’d have no qualms taking out these bastards. And if they’d hurt Darci, there wouldn’t be enough pieces left to turn over to the Coast Guard after Chris and the sharks got done with them.

The lights of the land they’d left behind faded in the distance. He felt the speed they were traveling increase. Someone was on the throttle and intent on hauling ass away from the direction they’d come from.
 

The darkness worked in Chris’s favor as he moved through the shadows of the night. He kept his back pressed to the wall as he neared the windowed door to the bridge. He’d give anything for some grease paint and black clothes rather than his tan sports jacket and white shirt that stood out like a beacon.

Chris dared one quick look into the wheelhouse before he pulled back.

The man he saw at the helm, his eyes trained forward on the horizon, was definitely not the captain or any other crewmember Chris had been unaware of. The old AK-47 slung over the man’s back and the machete strapped to his waist was a dead giveaway.

He didn’t know where the captain was or what condition he was in. Hell, he didn’t know if there was a second man on the bridge with a gun to the captain’s head. He needed to see more.

Every second he wasted here was another moment all hell could break loose downstairs. He could still hear through Darci’s earpiece though the sounds were distant and muffled. He couldn’t hear her and that was enough to have him taking action to resolve this situation sooner rather than later.

Chris blew out a breath and moved fast. He swung open the door and raised his gun. “Drop your weapon!”

The man spun on him. He saw the revolver in the bastard’s hand. Chris aimed and pulled the trigger. A bloodstain blossomed and spread across the man’s T-shirt as he fell back and then slumped to the floor.

Chris surveyed the rest of the bridge. The captain was on the floor, bloody and gagged. His hands were tied behind him, but his eyes were open and wide, and he was most definitely alive. More importantly, there was no one else on the bridge.

 
He disarmed the hostage taker and felt for a pulse before he eased the throttle back, just a bit. Enough to slow them but not alert the hostage takers in the dining room that they’d lost control of the bridge.

Only then did Chris move to the captain on the floor. One swipe of his knife cut the plastic ties binding the man’s hands. Once freed, the captain pushed the gag out of his mouth. He eyed the man on the floor as the puddle of blood surrounding him spread. “Is he dead?”

“He should be by now. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” The captain struggled to stand. Chris helped him up.

“How many men did you see or hear?” He fired his questions at the captain fast while in the back of his mind a clock ticked silently. The life of every hostage in the dining room, and that of one in particular, weighed heavily on his shoulders

“Just the one, I think. He hit me from behind.”

“Is your radio working or did they knock it out?”

“It should be working.” The captain moved to the helm.

Thank God for that
. “Call for help. I have to get down to the dining room. Two of your waiters and a one of the guys who boarded us have the guests pinned down. Oh, and turn this thing back toward US waters before we end up in Cuba. Real slow and gentle so they don’t notice before I can take care of them.”

“You sure you want to do that? Shouldn’t we wait for the Coast Guard to get here?”

“Hell no.” Chris handed him the handgun he’d taken off the dead guy. The AK and ammo he was keeping for himself. He saw the doubt on the man’s face and said, “Trust me. I know what I’m doing. Anybody tries to come in here and take this wheel, you shoot him. And that includes your wait staff. This was an inside job.”

The captain looked down at the gun and then back up at Chris. “You weren’t just regular Navy, were you?”

“No. Can you handle it up here?”

“Yeah.”
 

“Thank you.” Chris left the captain and headed downstairs. One battle won, but the hardest one remained.

~ * ~

Darci saw the flash of white pass in front of the glass door and her heart skipped a beat. It had to be Chris. She felt it to her bones. He was going to save her even though she had failed him by losing the communicator.

The mean guy who apparently didn’t speak English was busy talking to the two waiters when Mr. Collins caught her gaze. He widened his eyes, the silent question clear to Darci. He wanted to know where Chris was and why he wasn’t doing his job.

She knew he was doing his job, even if she couldn’t see or hear him. To help channel her fear, she’d concentrated on trying to think like Chris. She’d felt the vibration of the floor lesson and hoped that it meant the engine was slowing. She looked outside and saw the lights on horizon seemed to shift, as if the boat had turned changing direction ever so slowly.

It had been the change in the engine speed and direction that had alerted him to something being wrong in the first place. The fact the situation had reversed yet again gave her hope. Made her think that Chris might be responsible for the correction. Helped her believe he was working somewhere behind the scenes to fix things. To save her. To save them all.

Seeing Mr. Collins’s stare settle on her again, she glanced at the door where she’d seen the flash while tipping her head in that direction. His eyes widened in silent question. She nodded. He drew in a visible breath and reached for his wife hand.

She agreed with every emotion she saw on the man’s face. The fear. The hope. And the desire to hold onto someone dear.

Darci only hoped she’d have that chance again.

The lights on the horizon grew brighter and Darci wasn’t the only one who noticed. The man who’d hit her pointed out the window and started yelling to the two dressed as waiters. They shook their heads, speaking in his language but it was obvious they weren’t happy the lights of the Florida Keys were growing brighter.

He barked an order at the waiters. One headed out the door of the dining room.

Minutes ticked by and the discussion between the two remaining men grew more animated. The one waiter left pulled out a radio. He received no answer to his call. That spurred more rapid talking, and then some yelling.

Finally, it must have been decided the second waiter would go see what was taking the first one so long to return. All the while, the coast grew closer.

The waiter followed the same path the first had taken.

Darci held her breath. Moments passed and he didn’t return and no radio call came.

It had to be Chris. He was taking them out one at a time. She knew it. Hell, it would be easy for him. He probably didn’t even have to use his gun. He could just bop one on the head, drag him away and wait for the next one to emerge.

She looked toward the door again, and Chris was there, as if she’d conjured him, and wished him into being. He stood in the doorway, the gun she’d become used to sitting on the table next to the bed while they made love in his hand. The two big guns he must have taken from the waiters were slung over his shoulder.

Gun aimed at the one remaining man, Chris said, “Drop your weapon.”

The man who had hit her, bloodied her lip, wasn’t going to give up just because Chris told him to.

She covered her mouth to stifle the scream as the man swung his weapon toward Chris, but Chris was quicker.

Facing head on a man intent on killing him, Chris shot. She wasn’t sure how many times Chris pulled the trigger before the man fell to his knees.

Chris stepped forward, shooting him twice more in the head.

It was like watching a different person. A stranger. Not the man she’d known for years. Not the guy who’d come drink beer with her brother. Not the man whose hands had held her for two days.

He bent and took the weapon from the man’s hands, slinging it over his shoulder before he kneeled and frisked the body. Chris emerged with what looked like explosives, another gun and a knife.

Only then did he raise his head and scan the room. His gaze hit her and she saw him visibly react to seeing her standing, safe and whole. Then he moved to Mr. and Mrs. Collins.

Darci wanted to go to him, but she couldn’t get her legs to move. She was shaking too badly. All she managed to do was pull herself into the nearest chair and sit.

It took longer than she’d like for Chris to calm their host and hostess down. The bride, who’d held it together during the episode, was hysterical now that it was over.

Finally, things had calmed enough that Chris came to her. He kneeled in front of her chair and raised his hand to touch her split lip.

“Which one hit you?” His tone was hard.

“Don’t worry. He’s dead.” She laughed, feeling herself nearing hysteria as she got suddenly very cold.

Cussing under his breath, Chris slid the big guns off his shoulders and laid them on the floor before he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Your holster will show.” That’s why he couldn’t give her his jacket before.

He smiled. “I think the jig is up, don’t you?”

She realized he was right and felt the tears rise again to the surface. “I was so worried.”


You
were worried? I was out of my mind when I lost comm with you. What happened?”

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