Undercover Texas (11 page)

Hunter was determined to take her life away.

He shoved his hair through his hair. “Look, once you’re safe, I’ll do everything in my power to figure out some way for you to come out of hiding, but until we can eliminate the threat, you’ll have to stay hidden.”

Doc slammed open the door. “We got company. They found us faster than I thought. At least five coming in on an airboat. Maybe more.”

Hunter glared at Doc. “Someone followed you.”

“No way, man. I’m better than that. I told you, they’re canvassing everywhere. It was only a matter of time.”

Hunter lifted Brandon and handed him to Erin.

“How much time?” she asked, and clutched her son in her arms.

“Not much,” Doc said.

Hunter opened a secret compartment. He pulled out a huge weapon and handed one to Doc. He snapped a magazine in the second submachine gun and then tucked a knife into his boot.

Hunter’s jaw tightened, and he slipped two clips into his vest pocket before handing a pair to Doc. “Let’s go.”

Erin hugged Brandon close and followed Hunter and Doc to the door. Hunter glanced out the window and let out a sharp curse. He yanked the curtains closed.

“They’re too close. We’ll never make it to the boats, much less out the inlet in one piece.”

She gripped the back of his shirt. “Can we go out back, across the land?”

Hunter looked at Brandon. “Me and Doc. Maybe. But we’re too far out. With you and the baby, I just don’t think we’ll make it.”

Doc peeked through the window. “If we’re going, it has to be now. Verify five bogeys,” he said.

Hunter’s eyes narrowed and Erin shivered at the steely cold of his expression. “Go out back and around on the west side of the house. There’s a mother gator on the east side near a clump of trees.”

Doc nodded.

“What about me?” Erin asked.

Hunter opened the closet door. “Get in there and don’t make a sound.” He handed her a revolver. “Hunker down in the closet. If someone breaks in, don’t hesitate. Point at the guy’s chest and pull the trigger.” He flicked on the safety and handed her the weapon.

The roar of an engine moved closer. Erin held Brandon and sank down in the closet. She gripped the gun tight. Hunter gave her a small grin. “Just don’t shoot me.”

She nodded. “Hunter...be careful.”

He winked at her. “Five is nothing. Doc and I can take care of this.” He crouched down. “I won’t let either of you down. I promise.”

He twisted the lock and closed the door.

A few minutes later, Erin heard a loud curse.

“Seven, not five,” Doc barked.

A machine gun spit bullets. They thwacked against the wood. Would they come directly through the door? Erin ducked down farther, making herself and Brandon as small a target as possible. Her entire body shook. More gunfire ripped through the air. Brandon whimpered and Erin whispered in his ear.

Glass exploded way too close. A loud crash shook the building. Footsteps thundered at her.

“They got in,” Doc yelled.

“Find her,” a voice shouted.

There were only two doors to check. The bathroom door slammed open. Shouts sounded from outside, but she couldn’t tell who. What if Doc and Hunter couldn’t stop them? Two against seven weren’t very good odds.

The doorknob shook.

“Gotcha,” the voice said.

Erin squeezed the gun tight.

The door smashed in.

Erin didn’t hesitate. She pointed the gun at the man’s chest and fired. He grunted and fell back. Then groaned.

No blood. He wasn’t dead.

Oh, God. Bulletproof vest?

He rolled over, panting.

No. She’d never let him take her.

She had only seconds. She needed another weapon.

Clutching Brandon in her arms, Erin vaulted over the guy with a kick to the head and sprinted into the bathroom. She locked the door but knew the flimsy wood wouldn’t protect her for long. A loud curse echoed at her.

Another round of machine-gun fire pelted the air.

Frantically, Erin yanked open the bathroom drawers. She scanned each compartment. A nail file wouldn’t cut it. Neither would the long-reach lighter. She opened the medicine cabinet. Shampoo. Toothpaste. A can of deodorant.

A chemical formula flooded through Erin’s head.

Deodorant. Aerosol deodorant. Flammable.

The lighter.

It could work.

She grabbed the can and snapped off the top, then thrust Brandon into the bathtub

“It’ll be okay, cutie. I promise.”

She closed the curtain on him. Seconds later the guy pulverized the door.

She clicked on the flame and pressed down.

The deodorant spewed out the nozzle.

Fire erupted and flew onto the man’s chest and face. He shouted and fell back, rolling to douse the flames.

Erin aimed the can at him, her body tense.

Hunter rushed into the room.

Screaming, the guy rolled over and pointed his weapon at Erin.

Hunter didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger.

The man’s head exploded.

* * *

O
UTSIDE
,
THE
SWAMP
HAD
GONE
eerily silent. Hunter didn’t give the man on the floor a second glance. He planted himself between the attacker’s body and Erin, and he pulled her shaking body into his arms.

Footsteps pounded on the wood. Hunter twisted slightly, still holding Erin, and raised his weapon at the open door.

A patterned knock sounded.

Hunter lowered his weapon at the signal and Doc walked into the room, his machine gun at the ready.

“They’re alligator food,” he said, then took in the burned man on the floor, and the spray can in Erin’s hand. “Damn, girl. Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Oh, God.”

Erin dropped the can, covered her mouth and ran into the bathroom. Hunter met Doc’s gaze with a grimace.

“I did the same thing,” Doc said. “First kill, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Me, too,” Hunter said. “Help me get rid of this. She doesn’t need to see it.”

They disposed of the body in the swamp. The floating plants churned under the water, and soon the body had been pulled under.

The noises of the swamp had returned to normal by the time they walked back into the shack.

“Can you clean it up?” Hunter asked Doc. “I need to check on her, and we don’t have much time. No telling how many know our location.”

Doc nodded and Hunter stood just outside the remnants of the bathroom door. He knocked on the doorjamb. “Erin?” He poked his head in.

She was on the bathroom floor, Brandon cradled in her arms. The baby must have sensed something because he didn’t cry, he just patted her arm.

He looked up at Hunter. “Mama.”

“I know, sport.”

Hunter crouched down. “Erin, we have to go. Can you understand me, sweetie?”

She looked up at him. “I killed him. Burned him to death. How could I do that?”

He gripped her tight. “Listen to me. You did the only thing you could to protect yourself. He would have had no remorse handing you and Brandon over to the terrorists.”

She swallowed deeply.

“You done good, Erin.” Her scooped her beneath her arm and helped her to her feet. “Now let’s get out of here.”

She held Brandon close, and Hunter led them across the shack.

She glanced down at the scorched floor. A shiver washed through her, but then she stiffened her back and adjusted their son in her arms.

Man, Erin was one tough woman when she had to be.

Hunter escorted them to the small dock. His gaze swept the area. No body parts that he could see. He kissed her temple. “Will you be okay while I finish packing up?”

Erin took in a deep breath and glanced over at the alligator’s nest. The creature gave them a harsh glare, then hunkered down by her eggs. She nodded. “Get us that new identity, Hunter. Brandon has to be safe.”

Hunter nodded and returned to the shack. Doc held up the packed duffel. “Supplies, ammo and your antibiotics. I swept it for bugs. Clear. You’re good to go.”

“Thanks.” They searched the premises for any identifying items and eliminated the fingerprints.

Hunter took one last look. “So much for this place being safe.” He kneaded the muscles at the base of his neck. “Doc, my plan is completely screwed. I was supposed to meet someone to have their new identification finalized today. Pictures, fingerprints, birth certificates, the works. No way that’s happening. I have to find an alternative source.”

“Then you know who to call.” Doc tugged out a phone. “One of Logan’s specials. For emergencies.”

Hunter grabbed the secure equipment and dialed a number.

“Carmichael.”

“Should I call you
Your Highness?
” Hunter said.

“Shove it, Graham,” Logan grumbled. “My life is a pain in the butt tonight. I have to attend a meet-and-greet with a bunch of muckety-mucks from France and Germany in a few minutes. Luckily, Kat promised to make it worth my while later if I behave,” he said. “I plan on smiling until my cheeks hurt tonight so she’ll misbehave later. Now, what do you want so I can get on with the torture of my evening?”

Hunter had to smile. Despite the frustration, he could hear the contentment in his friend’s voice. The man was so in love with Kat and his kids he couldn’t see straight.

“Logan, I need help. I set up a rendezvous with your Texas contact. I missed the deadline and the contact number is no longer valid.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty standard.” Logan paused and mumbled something to someone on his end. A few seconds later a door shut. “What aren’t you telling me? You should have the resources to do this job in less time than I can find another option.”

Hunter hated what he had to admit, but now was not the time to hold back from those he trusted. “I didn’t give you all the information, Logan. I’m sorry, but this entire operation is unsanctioned. It’s personal.”

Logan didn’t respond, but Hunter knew his friend was still on the other end.

“I have a son,” Hunter said. “He’s one, and his mother is in big danger. She’s been mentioned in chatter.”

Logan let out a low whistle, and Hunter knew the ex-CIA operative understood the implications.

“She and my son have to have new identities, but I need someone below the radar. Way far off so that no one could ever connect me to them.”

He could hear Logan’s fingers drumming on the table. “I may have an option. Where are you right now?”

“Florida Panhandle, but I need to get to Carder. I have to see that lawyer you recommended.”

“Then this will work. Noah Bradford has a contact from when we worked a drug cartel job just across the border. She’s a bit of a hermit, but the gal can get you anything you need. She’s another Carder, Texas, connection and doesn’t live too far from what used to be my ranch.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry about the Triple C.”

“I made it out with my kids and Kat,” Logan said. “That’s all I care about.”

“I may need more than one day in Carder to get everything done. Is there someplace out of the way where no one would think to look?”

“The ranch burned to the ground, but I have a small cabin near the back acre, not too far from a stream. The cowhands stayed there to guard the herd from rustlers back in the day. It’s not much, but it’s a roof.”

Hunter let out a slow breath, one he’d been holding. At least his small family would have a place to sleep. “Thanks, Logan. I owe you.”

“You helped me save Kat’s life. You owe me nothing.” Logan paused. “Just keep your son safe. In the end, family is all we have to hold on to.”

Hunter ended the call and met Doc’s gaze. “All I have to do is find a completely anonymous and unexpected way to get to Carder, Texas, without getting killed between here and there.”

Chapter Seven

The rhythmic sound of the sea pulsing into the pier was the only sound. The desolate marina was eerily quiet. Darkness hung over the deserted area.

At Doc’s signal, Hunter pressed Erin next to a foreclosed office building. “Don’t come out until I motion to you.”

She nodded. She’d been quiet. Too quiet. Hunter understood.

She’d still been upset with him when they’d returned the airboats.

Then Hunter had seen the blood.

He’d tried to protect Erin, but she’d walked right into a huge pool just outside the small outdoor stand.

The poor guy who’d sold them the boat had been facedown with his brains splattered around him.

Erin hadn’t been able to look away. She had hardly said a word since.

The news indicated the man’s death to be a suicide. Too much debt, a wife who left him.

Hunter knew better.

So did Erin.

His entire body tense, he scanned the area, then the water.

No movement except the occasional wave.

“You’re sure they’ll be here?” he asked Doc. “I’m not certain I’d want to touch this mission with a two-hundred-foot crane.”

“They’ll be here,” Doc said.

“I don’t get it,” Hunter said. “What’s their story?”

“Marty’s husband died on 9/11. He was a firefighter. A real hero. He took a second trip up in the towers. He didn’t make it out.” Doc lifted his night-vision goggles and surveyed the horizon. “She and her husband’s uncle are on a mission now. They’ve never let me down.”

The hum of an engine pierced over the lapping of the water against the pier. They both ducked down. Doc swung his goggles toward the sound.

He didn’t speak for a moment. Hunter’s entire body crouched low, ready to take off.

“It’s them.” Doc smiled. “What did I tell you? Right on time.”

A fishing boat rumbled toward the pier. The paint job had seen much better days. By the time it reached them, Hunter took a step back. “That is some boat. But seriously, Doc. Is it seaworthy? I need to get to Texas quickly. How fast can it possibly go?”

“Faster than you’d expect. I wouldn’t judge this book by its cover. Besides, do you have a choice?” Doc whispered, “You can’t risk the airport or the bus station.”

“I know. They’ll be watching for that, and I can’t risk going cross-country. Even if we stay off the interstate, we could get caught on the wrong camera. I like it. No one will think to follow us on the water.”

The boat settled beside the dock.

Hunter eyed the solid woman with a hat tilted on wild red hair. She stood on the bow. She also clearly ran things. The old guy at her side secured the boat and they strode over to Doc.

“So, what’s so urgent I left a week’s worth of fish swimming in the gulf?” She settled her arms on her hips and cocked her head.

“Hunter, this is Marty Zaring, Captain of
Precious Memories.
She’ll get you near Corpus Christi.”

“He a good guy?” she asked Doc.

“And when have I ever not hooked you up with a good guy?” Doc asked.

Marty winked and held out her hand to Hunter. “Fair enough. So you need passage on the down-low? Just you?”

Hunter motioned to Erin, and she emerged from the shadows, holding Brandon in her arms. “All three of us.”

Marty stared at the baby and her expression softened. “He’s a cute one, all right.”

The grizzled man at her side walked over. “Ain’t he the big boy?” The man’s twinkle transformed his gruffer appearance. The guy could have been Santa Claus.

Erin’s eyes widened, but Brandon reached out to the old guy and grinned.

“Crisp here loves kids. He can help take care of your son,” Marty said.

“His parents need help,” Crisp muttered. “They look like hell.” He lifted Brandon above his head and he chuckled. “Get on the boat, you two. I’ll take care of the young’n.”

“I haven’t given permission, Unc,” Marty groused.

“Well...
Captain...
you actually gonna turn these three down?”

“No,” the woman grumbled. “Get on board.”

Doc leaned over to Hunter. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Hunter shook Doc’s hand. “If you ever need anything—”

“I’ll come looking. You owe me. Again,” Doc said. “Keep that family safe. And, Hunter...think twice about letting them go. You may regret it.”

Doc turned to Erin and gave her a hug. “Take care of him. He won’t take care of himself. Clean his back and make sure he takes the antibiotics I gave him.”

“I’m right here,” Hunter pointed out.

“And you suck at following orders, my friend.” He saluted Marty and disappeared into the night.

Marty stepped forward and planted her hands on her hips. “Now that Doc’s escaped, I have a few ground rules. This is my boat. I make the rules.” She looked Hunter up and down. “I have to agree with Unc. You both look like hell. I have one extra cabin below, right past the galley. Get some rest, please. I don’t want to have to chuck a dead body over the side. Coast Guard frowns on that sort of thing. Besides, I want you two out of sight most of the trip. There may not be quite as many cameras in the gulf as on land, but there are a few, and I already recognize the doctor from the television.”

Hunter picked up the duffel and took one last look around. Nothing unusual, still deserted. Maybe they’d caught a break.

“You have weapons?” Marty asked.

“A submachine gun.”

“Just keep them out of my way, but if we run into trouble, there’s a cabinet in the galley with a padlock. You’ll find what you need in there.”

Hunter followed Erin over to Brandon. She held out her arms, but their son was fascinated with Crisp. He juggled Brandon and chuckled when the boy tugged at his beard. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna make a sailor out of you, just like I did my nephew’s wife. But
you
won’t take over, will you, boy?” The sailor lifted Brandon over his head. “Whew! You’re ripe, kiddo. Diaper change for you.”

Without asking, he plucked Erin’s makeshift diaper bag stuffed in the pocket on the side of the duffel. She and Hunter followed. Within seconds, the old seaman whisked one diaper aside and replaced it with another.

Hunter met Erin’s gaze. “Faster than you, sweetheart.”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Erin admitted.

Hunter nodded, wanting to follow his son and not let him out of sight. Crisp took the baby right outside the bridge.

“Captain’s orders. You two go below. I’ll keep him with me.”

Erin shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Look, honey, I understand, but below it gets pretty rough. At least in the fresh air your son has less chance of being sick.”

Erin looked over at Hunter, still uncertain.

A loud whistle sounded and a spotlight flashed on. It swept across the bay.

“Get down,” Crisp said.

Hunter dragged Erin to the deck. With the light they could make out a large yacht. “Marty is right. We need to stay out of sight. Both of us.”

“Good thinking, young man.” Crisp smiled. “I’ll watch your son. I give you my word. It’s my bond.”

Something in the man’s eyes made Hunter nod. He ducked down beneath the deck and took Erin by the hand.

“Brandon will be okay?” she asked, biting her lip.

“I think so. Crisp can’t take off with him—not that he would—and I don’t want him to get sick.”

She let out a small sigh and bobbed her head in agreement. They headed down the steps. The small galley was clean and pristine. Right past the tiny cooking area he pushed open the door.

A small bed took up the majority of space in the room. Erin looked up at him. “They expect us to stay in here? I don’t know if I can breathe.”

Hunter took in Erin’s pale face. “You can handle this. Just until we get out to sea.”

The engine rumbled to life, and a loud horn sounded.

The boat swayed and lurched forward.

Erin teetered, then planted her feet. “This is crazy. How did we get here?”

He ran his knuckle along her cheek. “Life doesn’t always work out like we plan. But we’ll be okay. It’ll work out.”

“I know you’re trying to calm me down, Hunter, but seriously. Given our luck the past few days, don’t you think we should expect a hurricane?”

The boat lurched again, and Erin fell into Hunter in the small space. He caught her arms and looked down at her, his gaze hooded.

She knew that look. Knew it well. Her palms itched to tug Hunter closer and give in to the tension that had been rekindling between them. She knew it was dangerous to give in to her feelings.

Hunter might be determined to help them, but he didn’t intend to make anything long-term. She wouldn’t beg. She and Brandon had done just fine without Hunter. They would again.

No matter what kind of life they ended up with.

“I should rebandage your back,” she said. “I promised Doc.”

Hunter’s gaze narrowed; then he seemed to back away. The spark nearly igniting the room diminished. “You’re right,” he said.

He slipped off his shirt and lay down on the bed.

Erin held her breath. Now that she wasn’t concerned about him dying on her, she could take in the beauty of his shape. He really was perfection. The broad shoulders, the narrow waist, the defined muscles, his strength.

She reached into the duffel and pulled out the kit Doc had left.

“This might hurt.”

“I trust you to be gentle,” he said.

She didn’t know how long it took her to remove and rebandage his injuries, but when she covered the last one, Erin swayed. She’d hurt him, and he hadn’t made a sound.

She plopped on the bed.

Hunter lay on his side. “I didn’t feel a thing,” he whispered.

“Liar.”

“Maybe,” he acknowledged. “Wouldn’t you rather I lie?”

She didn’t have to consider. “No. I try to be honest. Lying just brings trouble.” She settled on the bed and tucked her legs to her chin.

“Sometimes it keeps you alive,” Hunter said.

“I can see how you’d think that, but I’m not very good at it. My mom could always tell when I lied.”

She laid her cheek on her knees.

“You’ve never mentioned your parents before.” Hunter stroked her arm with a finger. Erin shivered under his touch.

“Not exactly bedroom conversation. And I don’t think we left that bed the whole week on Santorini.”

“That’s not true,” Hunter protested. “We visited the beach.”

“Yeah, your private beach. Nude. And we didn’t stay vertical for long. Doesn’t count.”

“That was some week.” Hunter tucked his arm beneath his ear. “Do you regret it?”

“How can I? I got Brandon.” Erin toyed with the soft material of her T-shirt. “And I think I might very well be stuck in some terrorist’s camp right now if we hadn’t met. I understand what you did, Hunter, but next time, just tell me what’s going on. Don’t kidnap me again.”

* * *

L
EONA
TAPPED
HER
FOOT
on the floor of the secure infirmary. Antiseptic burned her nose and she waited.

The doctor exited through the door and swiped his badge.

“Well?” Leona said.

“I can’t believe the guy is alive. He’s going to need a lot of plastic surgery on his face and a prosthetic eye, but he’s strong enough to talk to you.”

Leona motioned to Trace. “Follow my lead.”

He nodded his assent. She slipped her clearance into the reader and keyed in her code. With a deep breath, she walked inside.

The man lying in the bed had half his face swathed in bandages, an IV drip leading into his arm and straps securing him to the bed.

“Mr. Mahew, I presume.”

He tried to shift against the restraints. Leona held out a folder. “You had a promising career. You qualified for Special Forces, surprisingly enough passed the psych exam, were an efficient assassin. And then you screwed up and earned yourself a dishonorable discharge. How does a man go from decorated hero to murderer? Hmmm?”

Terence toyed with the sheets. “Maybe I got fed up with the hypocrisy. Maybe I got tired of taking orders. Maybe I just like killing people and I got a better offer.”

“I see. Money. It’s what drives some people.” Leona leaned over the bed. “But not you, does it, Mahew? We received some very interesting information from your hometown. When you were a teenager, a few too many farm animals went missing. Even a pet or two. No one could prove anything, but your mother—”

“Leave my mama out of this,” Terence shouted.

Trace stepped in front of Leona and jammed his forearm against Terence’s throat. “You raise your voice again, slimeball, and you’ll wish I hadn’t saved your life,” he said.

Leona patted Trace’s arm for show. The man should have been an actor. He backed away. “So, Terence, your mother doesn’t have to know the details of your extracurricular activities. She seems like a God-fearing woman. But to keep your actions quiet, I need some leverage. I need to provide my boss with information.”

Terence shook his head. “I don’t know anything. I only talked to them on the phone. I don’t know who he was. We never met.”

“You’d recognize his voice?”

“Yeah. I guess. Had sort of a British accent with a bit of Arabic thrown in. All I know is that he wanted Dr. Jamison and her kid. He wanted them both alive.”

“This isn’t new information, Terence,” Leona chastised. “You’re going to need to do better if you want to get out of this facility alive.” She leaned over him and walked her fingers from his breastbone to his neck. She pressed her thumb against one carotid artery, and her fingers on the second. “Think, Terence.”

One eyelid blinked several times. The man grew paler as she increased the force against the vulnerable arteries. He understood exactly what she was doing.

With her other hand, Leona toyed with the area just below his ear. His vagus nerve. The right blow and she could stop his heart from beating.

“Okay, okay,” Terence said. “Just let me breathe.”

She released her grip and folded her arms in front of her. “I’m waiting.”

Terence gulped in some air. “When I told my contact a guy with skills helped Dr. Jamison escape, my client didn’t hesitate. He blurted out a name.”

Leona leaned toward him. “What did he call the man?” she asked.