Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (39 page)

A beam of light bounced off trees near the direction of the house, then moved.

Ryan wrapped his hand around hers. “Go.”

Staying low, they rushed toward what she assumed was someone holding a flashlight.

“Hang onto my pack,” Ryan said, his quiet tone urgent. “They’re moving toward the water.”

What if they weren’t dealing with meth heads? What if Steven had tricked them and had been lying in wait this whole time? Whoever held that light also held answers. She wanted them. God, she wanted to see her mom. Alive.

When they reached the edge of the clearing, she glanced to the left. The moon’s light reflected off of something. A window? She tightened her grip on Ryan’s pack and followed him. Cringed when a branch snapped beneath her boot, and sucked in a breath.

He stopped. Gripped her head, then pressed his mouth against her ear. “They’re by the water. Stay here.”

She pulled on his pack. “No,” she whispered. “If you need back up, I—”

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Back at you.”

“Fine. Whaddya say? Rush ’em?”

With confidence, she nodded. She could do this. She’d meant what she had said. They were partners and she didn’t want anything to happen to him. Whether Ian or any of her coworkers agreed, she was a CORE agent and had the skill set to handle this situation.

She nodded. “Let’s go for it.”

“Take the left, I’ll go right.”

Holding the Glock with both hands, she moved. In a matter of seconds, she lost Ryan in the dark, but refused to allow insecurity to creep inside and falter her steps. Her mom… She prayed to God the gunshots they’d heard hadn’t been meant for her mom or Ian. To be this close only to lose her now—she couldn’t think about that.

Focus, Lola. Focus.

The scent of saltwater filled her nostrils as she slipped behind a bush and neared the shore. The water lapped against…a boat? Anxiety and fear mixed with eager anticipation as she moved the bush’s flimsy branches aside.

She spotted the flashlight moving across the medium sized boat. Its beam touched on the cockpit widows. The person holding it stopped moving. She held her breath, looked to the right and saw Ryan’s shadowy figure emerge from the tall grasses near the shore.

The boat light suddenly lit up the night. The person in the cockpit, a shirtless man, raised a rifle toward Ryan, just as the boat’s engines revved.

Ian?

“Give me the gun,” a woman yelled. “I can’t drive this thing.”

Lola quickly looked to the cockpit.
Mom
. Although she couldn’t make out the seated figure, she’d know that voice anywhere.

Her limbs weakened with relief, but fear kept her standing. Ian knew nothing about Ryan, or that she’d come to the Everglades to rescue them. “Mom,” she shouted, scared Ian might fire at Ryan. “Ian, it’s Lola.”

The man kept the rifle aimed at Ryan. “Lola?” Ian called. “Who’s with you?”

She edged out of the bush and stepped in mud. “Dante sent him to help me.”

“There’s just the two of you?”

“Lola?” Her mom rushed from the cockpit toward Ian. “Where are you, baby?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Get behind me,” Ian ordered.

Her mom grabbed the flashlight from Ian. “Put the gun down,” she said, then moved the beam along the shore. The light touched on Ryan, who had his gun pointed at Ian, then along the bushes until it smacked her in the face.

Lola winced when the light hit her eyes, then held up her Glock and waved.

“Lola,” her mom called again, then quickly moved to the farthest edge of the boat’s bow. Sobbing, she held out one hand, but kept the flashlight aimed at the water. “Hurry, honey. We have to go.”

She glanced to Ryan, who began running toward her. “Ian, put the rifle down. It’s just the two of us.”

“For now,” Ian yelled back, but he set the rifle down, then rushed to her mom. Within seconds, he dropped a ladder down the side of the boat. “Go, go, go!”

Not without her partner. She held out her hand for Ryan. When he ran to her side, he took her hand, then led her toward the boat’s ladder. Water immediately filled the inside of her boots and lapped at the top of her thighs. She slid the Glock into her holster, grabbed the ladder’s rungs, then climbed. When she reached the top, Ian pulled her onboard, then passed her to her mom, who quickly embraced her.

“Oh, honey,” Cami cried, and squeezed her tight. “My baby girl.” She smoothed her hand over her head, then down her shoulders. “Are you hurt? Are you okay? Why are you here? Damn it, you
shouldn’t
be in this place.”

Lola hung onto her mom and, although tears of relief and joy streamed down her face, she grinned. “I’m fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.” She hugged her tighter. “I was so scared.”

“Whose boat is this?” Ryan asked, moving past them and toward the cockpit.

She’d make time for a reunion later. Right now they needed to eat up the distance between them and Jackass.

Jackass
.

They were supposed to detain him. At least in the Everglades they could have picked up his tracks. If they left now, they could lose him. And then what? Would he follow them back to Chicago and make good on his threats?

“A couple of drug dealers,” Ian said, taking a seat next to Ryan. “They won’t be needing it tonight.”

Ryan glanced at him. “You can explain once we’re moving. Is the anchor up?”

Ian shook his head and started to rise.

“I have it.” Lola stepped away from her mom’s embrace, hurried to the stern, then hauled in the anchor. “Done,” she yelled over the motor.

The boat moved in reverse, then once it was clear from shore, Ryan sped them away and out into the open water.

“Mom, is there a cabin below?” she asked as she neared the cockpit.

She nodded and hung onto a cushioned seat. “Honey, I—”

“Later. Go down there. Let me talk to Ryan and Ian. I’ll come see you in a minute.”

Her mom’s eyes narrowed. “Who is this Ryan person? Have you been in this God-awful place with him all day? What do you know about him? Did you sleep—”

“Are you kidding me?” Her patience snapped, but guilt had her drawing in a deep breath and remembering that her mom had just been through hell. She took her mom’s hand, swaying as the boat picked up speed, and led her to Ryan and Ian. “Cami Carlyle, Ian Scott, this is Ryan Monahan. He’s a former SEAL Dante knows, and he works and lives in Everglade City.”

“Thank you for coming after us.” Ian shook Ryan’s hand. “I can drive a boat, but not in the dark. Do you know how to use the navigation system?”

“I can figure it out.” Ryan shrugged out of his pack, then pulled the GPS from its side pouch. “This’ll work just the same.” He looked to the device. “I’ll have us to my boat dock in about twenty-five minutes.”

“Twenty-five minutes,” her mom repeated, then laughed without humor. “After all of that walking and we’re only a twenty-five minute boat ride from civilization?”

Ian stood. The dim glow from the cockpit highlighted the exhaustion etched on his face, along with a cut across his forehead. “Lola, I can’t believe Dante sent you here. I never would have—” He sucked in a breath, then quickly pulled her in his arms. “You did good, kid. Your mom might give me hell for this later, but I don’t care I’m proud to have you as a member of my team.”

She hugged him back, and relished his compliments. For the first time in her life, she was proud of herself. She pulled her mom into their embrace and, looking over Cami’s shoulder, she stared at Ryan’s back. “I couldn’t have done this without Ryan.”

Ryan glanced behind and gave her a sexy grin, before looking back to the water. “This is a pretty fancy fishing boat. We have another twenty minutes. Ian, mind explaining those drug dealers?”

Ian let go of them. “In a minute. Are you two aware of the man hunting us?”

“Steven Weir,” Lola said. “We learned about him this afternoon. Dante, John and Hudson took the jet from Chicago. They should be down here by now.”

Ian nodded, then looked to her mom. “Steven won’t stop.”

Lola followed his gaze, then quickly drew her mom closer to the light from the cockpit. “Mom, you’re hurt. Oh, my God. What happened to you?” she asked, staring at the blood staining Cami’s clothes.

“Steven,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “He…he’s already killed two people. When he tied me to a tree, he showed me pictures of what he did to them. The only reason he didn’t kill me then was because he wanted Ian around to watch. He’s sick, honey. Ian’s right. He won’t stop.”

Outrage and fear had Lola’s hands shaking and tension straightening her back. “We can talk about him once we reach the others,” she said. Her mom had obviously been through enough.

Ian put an arm around her mom. “We can discuss anything in front of your mother.”

Not this. Not a man’s execution. She thought back to what had happened to Ryan in Pakistan, the trial and the guilt that had followed. Her mom, even Ian, had no idea what CORE had done or the rules they had broken, and she didn’t want her mom to be forced to testify against her own daughter, should the authorities discover what CORE had been devising.

“That’s fine. But I’d still like to wait for the others.”

Ian stared at her, then shook his head. “At least answer me this—why are Dante, John and Hudson down here?”

“I think you know the reason.”

His lips tugged into a slight snarl. “Good.” He kissed the top of her mom’s head. “That son of a bitch doesn’t deserve to live.”

Somewhere in the Everglades, Florida

Friday, 1:33 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

Dragging in deep breaths, Steven dropped to a knee and wiped the sweat pouring off his brow. A cramp seized his right side. Blood coated the handle of the flashlight he held in his left hand. The alligator bite hurt like a motherfucker. But he had to move forward. He had to know who let off the gunshots. Ian and Cami couldn’t have been the ones doing the shooting, of that, he was certain. But the agents from CORE? Maybe a gator or panther had invaded their camp and they had shot their way out of danger, which made the most sense to him. It also meant they weren’t too far away.

Now that he’d made it around the marsh, he sheathed the machete and pulled out his Browning. He stood and swept the flashlight until he picked up his boot prints and the two other sets not belonging to him, as well as Ian’s footprints.

To maintain the element of surprise, he quickly swapped the bloody flashlight for the night vision monocular. Once his world had turned an eerie shade of green again, he hurried along the trail they’d made. Within minutes, he found the tree where he’d left Cami hanging, and kept jogging. As he’d hoped, Ian had rescued his damsel in distress, which was good. He wanted them together only so he could tear Cami apart. Literally. He wanted to cut her limb by limb while Ian sat bound and gagged, unable to do anything but suffer. Thanks to the little prick, he could add an alligator bite to his long list of reasons to hate the son of a bitch.

He hated the CORE agents just as much. If they’d been the ones who had fired the weapons, they would likely be on alert for other animals. Or maybe they’d decided to move camp. Either way, he’d stay on this trail and find them.

Up ahead, the monocular touched on another crop of mangroves. He might have to risk exposing his location and bring out the flashlight again. The tree roots had been a bitch to climb over during the day—in the dark he could lose his footing and break a bone.

He slowed and dropped the monocular away from his face. But an odd shape grabbed his attention. He quickly raised the monocular. There, in a sea of green, was a small tent. Careful of his steps, he quietly moved forward, keeping his gun trained on the tent. His left arm throbbed as he kept the monocular to his eye, but he wouldn’t dare drop it now. Not when the assholes could ambush him or—

He tripped, then jumped, when the double snap of a firecracker went off next to him. Panicking, he swung in a circle, ready to shoot anything that came near him. Using the monocular, he looked to the ground and discovered his own damned tripwire. Raw fury clawed at him, making his vision swim. How dare they use
his
tripwire to trick him?

They were so dead.

And obviously not here. Otherwise they would have come after him.

He moved closer to the camp, kicked the sleeping bag that had been tossed outside onto the dirt, then checked the tent. Tight quarters for two large men. Maybe the two CORE agents were no better than Moody and liked dick. Whatever. He couldn’t care less, so long as he found them and put a bullet in their heads.

Deciding to forgo the flashlight and keep his cover, he used the monocular to follow their trail into the mangroves. Fortunately, there weren’t many trees, and once he rushed through the creek and into the woodland, he spotted a clearing. He peered through the monocular, noticed water and…a house?

Staying to the edge of the woods, he ran toward the house. As he drew closer, he realized it wasn’t a house, but a trailer. He crept closer and closer. The glass on the door had been broken. No surprise. The place looked as if it had been here for decades. Still. Could Ian and Cami have found the trailer? What about the agents? He aimed the monocular to the ground near the path leading to the door. The ground cover made it impossible to see any tracks. Blood from his left arm fell onto the plants in fat droplets. He needed to re-dress the wound, but also needed to find out where the CORE agents had gone.