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Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

George parked the rental car, climbed out and waited for Emi to help herself out on the other side. Since she’d come dressed as his kid brother, he had to treat her like a kid brother. He couldn’t hold doors or offer his arm to her. It would blow her cover and his.

“Comm check,” Hawk’s voice sounded in George’s ear.

“George, here,” George responded.

“Emi, here,” she said and grinned at George. She’d been excited all day. Practically giddy.

George kept reminding her that the operation could prove dangerous. She needed to stay with him at all times.

His gut clenched at the thought of Fallon recapturing her and hiding her someplace they’d never find her.

He couldn’t let that happen. He had too much of his heart and soul invested in the woman to lose her now.

“Devlin, here.”

“Reid, here.”

“Teller, here.”

“Rex, here.”

“Good. The gang’s all here,” Hawk said. “Kalea, Mr. Parkman and I will be hanging out by the entrance until Hollingsworth arrives. Mr. Parkman is going to formally introduce Kalea and me to the man. We’ll do what we can to get the information we need without exposing Emi or the mission. For now, let’s get this show on the road and find our target.”

“Roger,” everyone replied as one.

Emi walked alongside George with her shoulders slumped, her hands in her pockets and the baseball cap hiding her hair and pulled low over her forehead. She wore jeans and an oversized Kansas City Chiefs football jersey that hid all her curves. She’d practiced her teenaged-boy shuffle in front of the mirror that morning, making George laugh at her attempts until she’d finally settled on a believable gate, which she used now that it mattered.

Kalea had secured tickets for them to sit at a table not too far from those set aside for the high-dollar donors who attended every year.

George and Emi would have a good position to view most of the guests from their location as well as the performers on the temporary stage constructed for the night’s entertainment.

People were arriving in droves. As George and Emi entered the roped-off area for the event, someone was there to take their tickets, fit them with colored wristbands and drape leis around their necks.

George scanned the crowd, searching for the face of the man in the photo as well as locating his teammates who would be lurking on the periphery of the masses, ready to move quickly when they spotted Fallon.

“This is my first ever luau,” Emi said, her voice lower than usual, in keeping with her teenaged-boy persona.

“I attended my first last week at a wedding,” George said.

“My friends and I had scheduled a luau for the day after arriving on the island.” She tilted her head. “I wonder if they went without me?”

“Will you contact them to let them know you survived?” George asked, still scanning the crowd.

“I will. I’d rather they learned the truth from me than the media,” Emi said.

“If you have trouble finding them, I can ask Swede to help,” George said.

“Thanks,” Emi said. “Have you spotted your teammates? I’d like to know where they are in case we need help.”

George tipped his head to the right. “Teller Osgood is standing at the edge of the crowd with a cell phone pressed to his ear. You can’t miss his bright blue Hawaiian shirt.”

Emi grinned. “No, you can’t miss him.”

“If you look to our far left, there’s a man in a white polo shirt and blue jeans, standing close to the tiki bar.”

“That’s Reid Bennet, right?” Emi asked.

“That’s him,” George said. “I don’t think I’ve seen him more relaxed and happier, now that he’s married into a ready-made family.”

Emi studied Reid. “What do you mean, ready-made?”

“He fell in love with the woman he was protecting. She was a package deal with her three-year-old daughter, Nani.”

“A three-year-old daughter…” Emi echoed, her gaze on Reid.

“Yeah. Your Sara would love Nani,” George said. “She’s a little sweetheart. I’ll introduce you to Maliea. We could set up a playdate for the girls.”

“That would be great,” Emi said with a shaky smile. “Sara’s never had friends.”

“Another first,” George said softly, fighting the urge to pull Emi into his arms. Her daughter had missed so much of a normal childhood in her first three years. Emi would want to make up for lost time. Getting to know Maliea and Nani would be good for Emi and Sara.

“How was the transition into instant fatherhood for Reid?” Emi asked.

George grinned. “For a man who swore he’d never marry and have children, he took to it like a pro and fit right in. He loves his wife and little girl.”

Emi sighed. “That’s great.”

George glanced around. “I haven’t spotted Devlin or Rex yet. Oh, wait, there’s Dev getting a soft drink from one of the vendors. He was our most notorious ladies’ man.”

Emi’s eyes narrowed as she studied the tall, broad-shouldered man. “Was?”

“The right woman came along in Kiana. He’s a one-woman man now and only has eyes for Kiana.” George tipped his head toward the stage. “There’s Rex, over by the stage, talking to one of the female VIPs.”

“Does he always look like he stepped off the cover of GQ magazine?” Emi asked.

“That’s Rex for you. He comes from money. But everything he owns, he earned for himself.” George shook his head. “He’s smart and knows a lot about the stock market. He could live off his investments without having to lift a finger for the rest of his life.”

“Why does he work for the Brotherhood Protectors?” Emi asked.

“For the same reason he joined the Army and earned a place as a Delta Force Operator. He wanted to make a difference. He didn’t feel like he could do that, relying on his family’s wealth. So, he traded his silver spoon for an M4A1 rifle. The man has mad hand-to-hand combat skills, can throw knives like a circus performer and is one of the best snipers in the US military.”

“Sounds like Brotherhood Protectors is lucky to have him,” Emi said.

“We’re lucky to have every man on this team. The experience, integrity and skills of this organization are phenomenal.”

“I’m sold,” Emi said.

George chuckled. “I guess I’m proud to be a Brotherhood Protector. Like Rex, I want to make a difference.”

“Edgar Hollingsworth just arrived,” Hawk’s voice came across George’s headset.

Emi tensed beside him.

“He has an entourage of people with him, making their way toward the VIP section,” Hawk reported. “Mr. Parkman is slowly making his way toward the VIP section. I’m looking, but I don’t see anyone who looks like Fallon, but then, the photo was blurry. Emi, let us know if I missed him.”

“Will do,” Emi said, her voice in George’s ear and echoing softly beside him.

“Here they come,” George murmured. He’d positioned them halfway to their assigned tables. Hollingsworth and his cluster of followers approached, passed and continued to their tables near the stage.

“Fallon wasn’t with them,” Emi said into the radio.

“Okay,” Hawk said. “Mingle, folks. Find our guy.”

George glanced down at Emi. If she was disappointed that Fallon hadn’t arrived with Hollingsworth, she didn’t show it. From beneath the brim of her ball cap, her eyes were scanning the crowd, searching with fierce determination for the man who held her child hostage.

They’d made one complete pass around the event when the master of ceremonies called everyone to take their seats.

George and Emi made their way slowly to their assigned table and sat amongst strangers who watched the stage eagerly as the MC announced the first act.

A native Hawaiian man dressed in a sky-blue shirt with a giant hibiscus flower print stepped up to the microphone with his ukelele and played a traditional Hawaiian song as the wait staff served plates filled with roasted pork, salmon, sweet potatoes and rice.

The next act was an Elvis impersonator dressed in white pants and a white jacket with a long fringe dripping from the sleeves. The man sang an excellent cover of The King’s “Blue Hawaii,” followed by “Aloha Oe.”

Though the food was good, Emi didn’t touch hers. She sat still with her hands in her lap, her gaze scanning the crowd, her body tense beneath the baggy jersey.

George ate, trying to look like any other guest there to enjoy the luau and entertainment. All the while, he, too, scanned the faces in the crowd, looking for the bastard who’d done so many horrible things to the beautiful, sweet woman beside him.

They’d finished the main course of the meal, and the wait staff was clearing the table when the traditional Hawaiian dancers took the stage. The women went first with a beautiful, flowing song. A woman dressed in a colorful caftan narrated their movements, telling the story of how the islands came to be and the goddesses who created them.

When the story was over, the male dancers came onto the stage and performed an exciting dance with beating drums and spinning fire wands. The drummers increased their speed and volume, building toward the climactic finale.

George watched the performance from his peripheral vision, still scanning the crowd for one face.

As the drumming came to a crashing halt, Emi’s hand clamped onto George’s arm. “He’s here,” she whispered in what sounded like a tight hiss.

“You hear that Hawk?” George said into his radio.

“I heard,” Hawk responded. “Where?”

Emi’s eyes narrowed. “He just came through the gate. He’s making his way around the far side of the tables toward the front.”

“White polo shirt, blue sports jacket?” Hawk asked.

“Yes,” Emi said. “Headed your way.”

The man didn’t stop until he reached the VIP tables. To George’s surprise, Fallon dropped into the empty seat between Hollingsworth and Mr. Parkman. Hawk sat across the large table from their target.

Hawk lifted his napkin to cover his mouth. “He’s making this too easy. Kalea let her father know it’s our guy. He’ll drop the tracker into the pocket of the man’s sports jacket. Be ready to follow him when he leaves.”

Emi sat on the edge of her seat through the last acts on the stage, her focus on Fallon, no one else.

“Hollingsworth just introduced your guy as Vincent Warren,” Hawk’s whisper sounded in the radio headset. “And get this...he’s Hollingsworth’s son-in-law. His daughter is Tasha Hollingsworth. She kept her maiden name.”

George’s gut churned. The man was married and had kidnapped another woman to use whenever he wanted. He deserved a slow and painful death.

“I bet Tasha knows nothing about his compound or the people he holds hostage there,” Emi said.

As the luau and the shows ended, people stood, preparing to leave.

Mr. Parkman leaned around Warren to shake hands with Hollingsworth. Hollingsworth and Warren walked away together.

Mr. Parkman said something to Kalea and Hawk.

“Our target has been tagged. Rex and Dev, follow him all the way to his vehicle.”

“George here. Since I have one of the handheld trackers, Emi and I are headed to the parking lot.”

“Good,” Hawk said. “Knowing Hollingsworth, he and Warren might have valet service. You’ll need to get out of the parking lot before everybody and his brother if we want to keep up with Warren.”

“Please,” Emi said, “don’t let him out of your sight until he gets into the car.”

“This is Rex; I’m five feet away from him. I’ll keep him close.”

“Dev here. I’m on his other side.”

“Let’s go,” George said. “I’d like to get out of here before Warren does.”

Emi fell in step with George, skipping to keep up with his longer stride.

They caught up with Hollingsworth’s group. Warren walked beside his father-in-law, their heads close together. Hollingsworth was frowning and appeared to be speaking heatedly to Warren.

As George and Emi passed them, a gust of wind whipped the ball cap off Emi’s head. The movement must have caught Warren’s attention.

Emi’s nemesis looked up, his gaze locked on Emi, and his eyes widened briefly. He said something to Hollingsworth and headed toward Emi.

“Fuck.” George shoved Emi around to the other side of him. “Just keep going.”

“What’s happening?” Hawk said.

“Warren spotted Emi,” George hooked his arm around Emi and half-carried her toward the exit, dodging slower-moving people in the way.

“Get her out of here,” Hawk said. “We’ll run interference.”

George had to trust that Hawk could waylay Warren long enough for him to get Emi into a car and out of the parking lot. He didn’t look back until he had Emi in the rented car, and they pulled into the line of traffic moving at a snail’s pace out of the event’s location.

When he glanced in the rearview mirror, he saw a man running along the line of cars, peering into each along the way.

“Get down on the floorboard,” George said.

Emi glanced out the back window and gasped. “It’s him. He’s coming.”

“Get down,” George repeated.

She slid out of her seat and curled into a ball on the floorboard, tucking her head between her knees.

When Warren was only three cars behind them, the vehicles ahead of George and Emi picked up speed, pulling through the stoplight.

By the time George reached the stoplight, the light blinked from green to yellow.

He hit the accelerator, pushing through. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Warren staring after the vehicles that had made it through. A big black SUV pulled up beside him at the stoplight. Warren jumped in, but the driver had to wait for the light to turn green again and for the traffic to clear the intersection.

“You can get up now,” he said.

Emi unfolded herself and slipped into the passenger seat. When she tried to buckle her seatbelt, her hands shook so much it took her several attempts before she finally got it to click. Then she sat back against the seat, drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He was so close.”

“You’re safe, Emi. I wouldn’t let him get to you.”

“But he saw me. He knows I survived.” She turned to George, her face pale. “He’ll go to the compound for Sara. She’s his bargaining chip. He knows I won’t go to the police as long as he has her.”

George dug into the pocket of his lightweight jacket and pulled out the tracking device. “We can track him and follow him to the compound.”

Emi held the device in her shaking hands. “The dot is moving.”

“Which direction?” George asked.

“Same way we’re going, only behind us.”

George’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out. It was Hawk. George answered, putting the device on speaker. “Hawk, tell me you’re tracking him, too.”

“We are,” Hawk’s voice came through loud and clear. “Our bogey is headed west on Ala Moana Boulevard. I just got off the phone with Swede; they dug deeper into Hollingsworth’s holdings and found a subsidiary corporation that registered a Reva yacht. That subsidiary corporation has properties on Oahu, Maui and Kauai. Guess who the CEO of that subsidiary is?”

George’s jaw tightened. “Vincent Warren.”

“Bingo,” Hawk said. “And the corporate yacht is moored at the Waikiki Yacht Club.”

“If he’s going for Sara, he could be heading for his yacht,” George said.

“He’s going for Sara,” Emi said, her tone strained.

“Hawk, I’m headed to the yacht club to get ahead of Warren. If he changes course, I’ll get back on the road.”

“Kalea called the FBO at the airport. She’s having them top off the fuel. She contacted another pilot friend of hers, and he’s heading for the airport right now. We’ll need both planes to get the team to whichever island Warren heads toward.”

“Good.”

“Now, we wait to see which island,” Hawk said, “while Swede tracks down all the properties he owns and their coordinates. My drone guys are still on Kauai. If that’s where Warren is headed, once we have coordinates, they can check each and give us the best possible location of the compound.”

“I’ll let you know what I find at the yacht club. Out here,” George said and ended the call. He brought up the GPS map application. When he had to stop at a light, he looked up the Waikiki Yacht Club and got the directions.

“The dot on the tracker is getting closer to us,” Emi said.

“We’ll have to be far enough ahead to avoid detection,” George said. “Hold on.”

The traffic light ahead had already turned yellow. It would be red before he reached it.

George slammed his foot down on the accelerator, sending the rental car through the now red light before the cars with the green lights started moving. He did it two more times before he reached the turn he had to take for the yacht club.

By the time they reached the Waikiki Yacht Club, they had a better lead on the other vehicle.

George parked on a street a block away from the club. “You need to stay in the car,” he said as he released his seatbelt.

“The hell I will.” Emi unclipped her belt and pushed her door open.

“We might have to climb over a fence to get inside.”

“Then I’ll climb a fence.” She exited the car and met him at the right rear fender. “Once we get in position, I’ll stay out of sight.”

He didn’t like that she would be close enough to Warren that if anything went wrong, he could get his hands on her.

But if he left her in the car, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her. Anything could happen, and he wouldn’t be there to protect her. “Come on,” he said and jogged toward the club.

They slipped through a gap in the fence and waited for Warren to show up.

Emi still held the tracker in her hand. “He’s headed this way and should be at the front gate of the club right now.”

As they watched, the dot on the screen moved away from the yacht club and back out to Ala Moana Boulevard.

“What the hell?” George exclaimed as his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Are you seeing this?” Hawk asked.

“Yes, he’s moving away.”

Emi touched George’s arm. “Someone is coming through the gate.”

George looked up in time to see the light at the gate shining down on Vincent Warren. He’d removed the jacket and only wore the polo shirt. Into the phone, he said. “Warren must have removed his jacket in the vehicle. He’s here at the dock with no tracker on his person.”

“We need a tracker on him to know which way he’s going,” Hawk said.

“I know.” George felt in his pocket for the little disk he still had. “I’ll get it on him.”

“How?” Hawk asked.

“I don’t know. Just be ready when I do.” George ended the call and gripped Emi’s arms. “You have to stay here.”

Already, she was shaking her head. “I want to go where you go.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t. I need to know you’re safe. If I’m worried about you, I won’t focus on what needs to be done, and then we’re both in danger.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get close enough to drop this tracking device on Warren’s boat.” He captured her gaze and held it in the glow of the lights of the marina. “If anything happens to me, go back to the rental car, drive away from here and call Hawk. He’ll come get you.”

George handed her his cell phone. “If all goes well, I won’t be too long.”

Emi’s brow furrowed. “But Warren saw you with me.”

“He saw a man in a tan jacket,” George said as he unzipped and shed the jacket, exposing the faded T-shirt beneath. “He didn’t see a man in a Nirvana T-shirt.” He reached up and ruffled his hair, making a thick lock fall down over his forehead. “Promise me you’ll stay here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, I’ll need you to get to Hawk. I’ll have the tracker on me. He will find me. Promise?”

She nodded. “I promise.”

George cupped the back of her head and kissed her long and hard, then he left her and walked out onto the dock in the direction Warren had gone, hurrying to catch up.

He thought he’d lost him when he saw lights blink on in a yacht five slips ahead on the right.

George pulled his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans and staggered toward the yacht, singing as loudly as he could.

“Ninety-six bottles of beer on the wall...” He let out a loud belch and continued, “Ninety-six bottles of beer. Take one down, pass is around...Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. No, wait, that’s not right.” He stopped at Warren’s yacht, where the crew was preparing the craft to leave the slip.

“Where was I?” George looked down at his fingers as if he could count to ninety-nine on them. “Was it ninety-nine or ninety-seven?” He belched again and swayed toward the yacht, faked losing his balance and dropped down on the back deck. “Whoa, dude. Watch the first step. It’s a fuckin’ doozy.”

A member of the yacht’s crew rushed forward and tried to get him to stand. “Sir, you can’t be on this boat. You’ll have to leave immediately, or I’ll call security.”

Not helping the man’s cause, George remained seated on the deck. He glanced around and blinked. “This isn’t the cruise ship?”

“No, sir. You need to leave immediately.” Another crew member appeared. Between the two of them, they lifted George to his feet and ushered him to the gangway.

“What the hell’s going on up here,” a voice called out.

George spun, taking the two crew members with him. “Thass what I’d like to know,” he said, slurring his words. “Thiss is no way to treat a passssenger.” He staggered toward Vincent Warren. “I need a drink. Got any booze on this boat?”

Warren’s nose wrinkled as if he smelled something nasty. “Get this drunk off my yacht. If he won’t leave, throw him overboard.”

George’s fists clenched. He came so close to slamming his fist into the bastard’s face. If it weren’t for the little girl Warren held hostage, George would have beaten Vincent Warren into hamburger meat. “Don’t get all huffy. I’m goin’.”

He staggered and fell into one of the leather chairs, taking the opportunity to wedge the tracking device in between the cushions.

Then he pushed to his feet and stumbled to the gangway. “The service on this cruise ship sucks.”

No sooner was he off the yacht than the gangway was retracted, the lines were untied and the engine flared to life. Warren’s yacht left the marina with George standing on the dock singing at the top of his lungs.

As soon as they were out of sight, he ran back to where he’d left Emi and let out a sigh of relief. She was still there.

She handed him his cell phone. “Hawk says he can see the tracker on his device. I have it on ours. He’s headed out of the harbor.”

They hurried back to the rental car, checking the tracking device all the way. By the time they reached the car, it was clear. Warren was headed west toward Kauai.

George’s cell phone rang. It was Hawk.

“Meet us at the Honolulu airport general aviation FBO.”

George met Emi’s glance. “Let’s go get Sara.”

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