SEALs of Honor: Markus (20 page)

It kept life exciting.

He crouched and slipped along the back of the one house and around. “Clear,” crackled the communicator.

“Clear here.” He moved on. They’d completed a sweep on one neighborhood. Two more were in progress. His thoughts returned to Bree. He knew there were only poor options as to where to stash her, and so far the ones they’d tried hadn’t worked out so well. Now he needed to collect her from the station and convince her to come home with him.

They had another few days here then they’d be going home providing this problem was cleared up first. The focus of the training had shifted given the circumstances. Reality was a bitch but she was a wonderful training ground.

It was also important to stay flexible and adaptable. They’d had several training sessions go south lately, but they’d adapted and learned. So who could complain?

He went in low, swept the area, and moved on. Wash, rinse, and repeat.

They moved fast from one neighborhood to the next.

He moved in an organized manner as part of the larger unit.

Two hours later, nothing.

He wasn’t happy.

They were assessing which of the other neighborhoods to clear when Mason whispered in his ear, “Markus. Shadow’s tracking someone heading toward the station. It’s still empty. The police are beside me. You are the closest.”

His blood froze. “Shit.”

“Easy. No way of knowing what we’re looking at this time. Keep your head.”

“My head is clear but damn it to hell. That’s where I stashed Bree.”

And he was moving as fast as he could toward the building where Bree sat all alone.

B
ree couldn’t see
what the man was doing – if anything. The room was deserted. She’d had no belongings to worry about leaving behind, but she also had no exit. Something she hadn’t considered when she’d chosen this hiding place.

She buried her face in her knees. Surely he’d see the place was empty and leave?
Please let him leave.

Her prayers were answered when the door opened and closed again. He fiddled with the knob and then walked along the wooden porch. She released her pent up breath and relaxed.

“Thank God for that,” she whispered under her breath. She peered around the corner of the desk, but there were only long shadows adding to her already overactive imagination. No sounds. No movement. She straightened enough to look out the window. Only the deserted parking lot stared back. Yay. She slipped out of her hiding place and walked back over to the bench she’d been seated on before. How long before someone came back for her?

She no longer wanted to sleep here. She couldn’t trust the stranger wouldn’t return. Although it could have been the injured officer coming in to help. Or others. She didn’t know who all they called on in times of need, but just because she was afraid he was on the wrong side of this issue didn’t mean he was.

Then again she was making up possibilities to make herself feel better.

She plunked down on the bench and stretched out her legs.

And that’s when she heard a sound that made her blood run cold.

Liquid splashing on the ground. Oh no.

She raced to the window and looked out. A dark shadow ran down the side of the building pouring liquid from a gas can. At the end of the wall he threw it down and grabbed up a second one. And she caught sight of his profile – again. It was him. The same arsonist. She could barely see the stack of cans by the front wall, but she saw enough to know he had several. She raced to the front door. And tugged on the handle.

It wouldn’t budge.

He’d locked the damn door. She struggled again, her mind racing as she looked around for another way to open the door. But it wasn’t budging. There had to be a back door, although that was closer to where the arsonist was. Damn it. She tried the window to the side of the front door. That’s when she realized the windows had bars across them.

Panicked, she went from window to window but they were all barred. She couldn’t even get out by busting through the glass.

“Markus, where are you?” she cried. There was a small hallway to the left. She raced down it. A bathroom, a storeroom and a more private office like an interview room. Tears rolling down her face and her chest heaving, she went from one to the other. And caught sight of the back door. She hit it like a ram but it didn’t move. Through her panic she saw the dead bolt keeping it locked up tight.

Sobbing now, she pulled the deadbolt back and tugged. The handles were big metal loops. She tugged and tugged. It moved slightly but was caught by something on the other side. Damn it.

She was locked inside.

If someone didn’t get here fast, she was going to burn right in front of the asshole who set the fire.

And just maybe that’s what he’d planned all along.

*

Markus raced the
mile and a half across the neighborhood. He’d be there in another four minutes at this pace. Evan was at his side. Two more were coming by truck. Bree… He shuddered just thinking about an intruder entering the station while she slept on the bench.

Dear God, let her be safe.

Evan grabbed his arm and pointed slightly to the left. They were only a block away. Power rippled through his legs as he raced toward Bree. He couldn’t stop the similarities between this panicked run and his wife’s death. There shouldn’t be any similarities. Fiona had been diving. Bree was sleeping. Fiona had died on her own. Bree was struggling to survive against another man. Fiona’s had been an accident. Bree’s would be murder.

And now that he’d listed all the reasons why they weren’t alike there was the one huge one that said they were so damn similar he couldn’t discount them – in Fiona’s case he’d been unable to help. Right now in Bree’s case he was unable to help.

But he would be in a position to do so, in three…two…on–

And that’s when he saw the flames.

Oh no. Dear God. He didn’t think he could run any faster, but he flew toward the building. Fire raced from the back to the front of the wooden structure.

The firebug was back.

Where was Bree? Surely she wasn’t in the building. She’d been free to come and go when he left. Then again, she’d been prepared to sleep at that time.

“Look at the door,” Evan shouted at him.

Markus’s gaze zinged to the front door and his insides cramped into granite. A piece of wood had been shoved through both front handles effectively locking the door closed.

And then he saw her – at the window inside trying to pull the bars off the window.

Shit.

“I’ll open the front door,” Markus said. “Find the asshole.”

“On it.” Evan took off into a loop around the burning building, his gaze going from side to side.

Markus raced to the front door. And wrenched the stick out.

“Bree,” he yelled as he opened the door.

“I’m here,” she cried out, her voice faint and raspy. The smoke billowed out. All he’d done was add oxygen to the flames inside.

She came running toward him. “He locked me in. I couldn’t open the doors,” she cried out as she threw herself into his arms.

He lifted her in one fell swoop and pivoted toward the front door. Just as he bolted through – he knew.

Already in motion he threw the two of them to the ground, hating the pained sound of her cry as he hit the ground, pulling her down with him and rolling down behind the truck.

He heard the shot.

Hopefully she didn’t.

He lifted his head slightly and watched as Evan tackled a man on the opposite side of the street. Two more trucks raced toward them. The lone fire truck sounded in the distance.

“Bree? Are you okay?”

She coughed and lifted her head to look down at him.

“You knew and prepared to deal with this asshole waiting for us outside?” she asked incredulously. “It was all I could do but run in a panic and you were already dealing with the possibility? Are you crazy?”

He groaned, his body sagging as another truck screamed to a stop beside them. Doors opened and Swede and Hawk raced to help Evan subdue the arsonist. He relaxed onto the ground and tugged her up close. “Are you hurt?”

When she didn’t answer right away, he tilted her chin up so he could look in her eyes.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m okay. It’s the same man. I saw him outside. I couldn’t stop him.”

He frowned because her voice said she wasn’t okay. A common enough phenomenon when someone came through a horrific event like this. Just by being alive they assumed they were not hurt when, in fact, they often were.

He sat up slowly, shifting her around until she was sitting in his lap. As he made the last of the turn she cried out and reached for her ribs.

Damn.

She gasped, her face scrunched up before she buried her face in his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Let’s get you up and check all of you over. We landed pretty hard. I tried to protect you…”

Fingers slapped against his mouth. “I’m alive. Not burning alive so any aches and pains I have from the rescue are still a joy because it means I can feel them.”

“Maybe.” He got to his feet as gently as he could and carried her away from where his men were dealing with the man they apprehended. There was a car parked on the side. He sat her on the hood.

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine,” she exclaimed.

“No, you’re not.” He stared down at her. “And we’ll sit here until morning and I check it out to make sure for myself.”

She glared at him.

He stared back.

S
he didn’t have
any fight left in her, but damn it, she was a bag of bones. Who wanted to look at that? “What if I don’t want to?” she muttered halfheartedly.

“Too bad. We could probably rustle up some food and coffee, but that would only be after you’re checked over.” He could hear his men approaching from behind.

“It’s going to be one of us, so either me or one of my unit.”

Instantly she threw her arms around him. “You.”

“Then let me look.”

She sighed and slowly lifted her shirt up, wincing at the movement. “It’s just a bruise.”

He grabbed her shirt and lifted it up farther, his fingers carefully sliding along her ribs, looking for breaks and cracks. He checked her chest and back. When he stepped back, letting her pull her shirt down, she said, “See, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’ve likely got a cracked rib, if not two. At the very least they are badly bruised.”

She glared at him. She’d suspected so but hadn’t wanted to make a fuss. Her bones broke easily now and ugly bruises that stayed colorful way past their time. It wasn’t the first time she’d had this kind of damage in the last year, and she’d heal. It would just take time. So no heavy lifting or bending over. She almost laughed. She could barely do either before this.

“I’m going home to my father,” she said abruptly. “This is silly. I need to go to bed and stay there for a week.”

A warm light came into his eyes. “I agree you do.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “And that will bring you much closer to me.”

“And where are you?” She’d wondered where he lived. “My father lives just outside of San Diego.”