Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Gabe

"Is this really where we're going?" Tansie asked as she stood on the dock, looking down at the boat we'd just rented.

Well, we called it renting, but really we'd just stolen the boat and left some money behind to make up for the theft. I told myself that we were going to return the boat, so it would be fine, but a small thought in the back of my mind said that promise might prove to be an empty one. There was no telling what kind of situation we were headed toward.

Sebastian struggled his way into the boat and took a seat on the front bow. "This is where the GPS tracker leads. And unless you know a better way to travel through a swamp, we're taking the boat. Now, get in."

There was no chance of Sebastian steering the boat when he couldn't even stand up on the swaying floor, so the navigation was left to me. We pulled out of the dock as quietly as possible and headed down the waterway. At the moment, the river was clear, but I knew as we traveled farther into the swamplands that our path would become more treacherous.

We had followed the GPS tracker until it came to a stop seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The map didn't show any cities or towns nearby. There wasn't even a hint of any buildings that could be hiding them. Yet, when I looked up the location, I was surprised how quickly I found a name.

Honey Island Swamp.

It was the largest untouched marshland in the United States, spanning over seventy thousand acres. The area was supposed to be protected by the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries, but I wasn't surprised by the idea that someone in the department was corrupt. Our enemies already had spies in the FBI, and were led by a corrupt Senator. A simple Wildlife Department wouldn't be hard to control. It would only take one person agreeing to look the other way for the protected land to become a safe haven for depravity.

The sun was already setting by the time we crossed into the thicker vegetation of the swamp. The world seemed to switch from day to night in a matter of minutes, as the dusk sunlight could no longer break through the canopy. Our boat was of medium size, so I had to stay in the deeper water and be careful not to venture too close to the land. Though in the wet terrain of the swamp, land and water often looked like the same thing, and I came precariously close to crashing us a few times.

Luckily, neither Sebastian nor Tansie seemed to realize my mistakes. Both were too lost in their own thoughts, facing the front of the boat like their concentration was the fuel that propelled us forward.

Normally, I enjoyed the quiet, but this silent atmosphere was oppressive. The hushed rustling of the wind through the trees and the ripple of the water seemed to speak of danger around every corner, and every now and then I caught the flash of some animal's eyes in the dark.

It was easy to see why the darkness of human imagination was often captured by these kinds of landscapes. The swamp around us seemed designed specifically to inspire nightmares. Anything could lurk in the murky water below. Each bump against the boat could be something as simple as a tree branch, or as dangerous as a man-eating predator.

Yet there was also a haunting beauty to it.

I remembered my conversation with Frankie about how the other man hated swamps. Some higher power must be laughing at us right now.

How else could I explain the unlikely odds of Frankie being kidnapped and taken to the one kind of place he despises most?

Honey Island. The name was a cruel joke. There was nothing sweet about this place. Perhaps it once embodied its name, but the monsters that chose to use it as their safe haven had forever tainted it.

I didn't bother to look at the clock on my phone. I didn't want to know how much time was passing. All I needed to know was that the red dot of Frankie and Newt's GPS location was growing closer.

We would be there soon.

I grew restless under my skin. The need for action burned in my veins. Maybe, finally, we could put this whole torturous adventure behind us.

Finally, after far too much time, a building came into view. I shut off the boat while a cluster of trees sticking directly out of the water still mostly concealed us.

The low, squat building looked out of place in a land that seemed forgotten by time. It was too modern, with hard edges and right angles, and clashed with the organic landscape around it.

It was as if the earth itself was saying this place should not exist.

"Why are we stopping?" Tansie demanded when she noticed that I'd cut the engine. "We're almost there. I can see the building."

I crouched low near the front of the boat, and Sebastian did his best to follow my lead. "Exactly. If we can see them, then they can also see us."

Tansie looked between us and the building, measuring the distance. "What do you mean?"

"Look." I pointed to the expansive dock surrounding the building. "There's security. We can't just stroll up to this place. We'll be shot down before we even get close. We'll have to sneak in."

She huffed, but she joined Sebastian and I in our crouch at the front of the boat. "All right. How do we do that?"

I started unstrapping my guns and handed them to Sebastian. There were only two, but it felt like stripping myself naked.

"I'm going to swim over from here and try to take out as much of the outer security as I can. Sebastian, you're going to cover me from a distance and shoot anyone that looks like they're going to sound an alarm. Tansie, when I give the signal, you'll have to bring the boat to the dock without starting the engine."

She was pulling at her braid again, digging her fingers into the twisted ribbons of hair and pulling them apart at the edges. If this kept up, she was eventually going to make herself bald.

"How am I supposed to move the boat if I can't turn it on? Get out and push?"

From the boat's storage compartment under the seats, I pulled out a long pole. It was usually used for hooking things that had floated too far away in the water, or pulling someone to safety that was struggling to swim, but it would work for this purpose as well.

"Use this to push off the bottom. You don't need to move fast, and the water current will help once you get started. Just try to stay as silent as possible."

Once I'd removed all my weapons that could be damaged by water, as well as my outer jacket, I slipped into the water armed only with a serrated combat knife. The water was thick with floating vegetation and muck. Great for keeping me hidden, but terrible for visibility.

Not to mention the goosebump-inducing feeling of pond scum sliding against my skin and sticking to my hair.

I swam right up under the dock and clung to a moss-covered support pole. Above me, the footsteps of patrolling security echoed against the wooden boards. I waited until they passed, then climbed up the nearby ladder that dipped down into the water. Each move I made caused the wooden planks to creak, and I kept a cautious eye out for anyone who might spot me.

The first security person was surprisingly easy to take out. I slipped through the shadows until I stood right behind them, then slit their throat between one breath and the next. They collapsed with only a gurgling sound to mark their passing, and I caught them before they could hit the deck and make too much noise.

Once certain that I hadn't alerted anyone, I gently lowered their body into the swamp water below. Their heavy tactical gear weighed them down, so they sank beneath the surface with little effort. Any evidence of their body was swallowed by the floating vegetation, leaving behind only a small spattering of blood on the dock to mark the fact that they once lived.

The process was repeated two more times without anyone noticing anything strange. It felt like the swamp itself was trying to help me cleanse the area, eagerly devouring every enemy I fed to it.

If the swamp was a living nightmare, then it was at least a nightmare that was on our side.

There were a few times where I couldn't get into position to eliminate my target and had to hide instead by ducking back under the dock. This tactic kept me concealed for the moment, but it wouldn't last forever. Someone was bound to realize what was happening sooner or later.

As much as I wanted to kill everyone within the building for their role in perpetuating this nightmare, I had to remind myself of our purpose. We were there to rescue those who had been kidnapped. Later, we could come back with a larger force and take everyone else out. Surely, now that I knew where they were located, it wouldn't be that hard to rally others willing to help out.

When I'd managed to clear all the security in one section of the dock, I signaled for Tansie to bring the boat closer.

The sound of her moving the pole through the water could barely be heard over the natural ambiance of the swamp. She moved carefully, taking my warning to heart and never letting the pole splash in the water or knock against the side of the boat.

Once they were docked and the boat secured, Sebastian immediately handed me my guns back. With practiced ease, I reattached their holsters on my belt and my leg, then helped Sebastian clamber out of the boat onto the dock. I practically had to carry the man since there was no good way for him to maneuver his crutches without making noise, and even once he was on the dock, I kept one arm looped around him so he leaned more on me than on his crutch.

"Come on," I hurried Tansie out of the boat. "We can't afford to be caught in the open. This dock would be a terrible place for a shootout. There's no cover."

There was a door on the side of the building that looked like it was meant for loading and unloading supplies. The good thing about a secret building in the middle of the swamp was that there wasn't much infrastructure. The whole place looked like it had probably been built by hand, and definitely wasn't up to code. Because of that, the door was ridiculously easy to open. I didn't even have to pick the lock. Ramming it with my shoulder was enough to break the lock and nearly took the door off its hinges.

This place definitely relied more on secrecy to keep it safe, rather than state-of-the-art security.

Sebastian was through the door first, which led to some sort of storage room. "Come on," he said as he peered through another door that led into the heart of the building. "There's no one around right now, and I can see the staircase. Now's our chance."

He started to slip out the door, but Tansie grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. "How do you know we need to go upstairs? This floor of the building is much bigger. Isn't it more likely that they are down here?"

Careful not to move too quickly or come across as aggressive, Sebastian removed her hand from his arm. "It's hard to build on unstable ground in a swamp like this. Adding a second story would be even harder. If they went through the trouble of creating a second story, then whatever is up there must be important. Probably private rooms, or some sort of center of command. Even if the people we're looking for aren't there, it's the best place to start."

He tried to charge ahead, but this time I stopped him. "I agree with checking the upper floor, but maybe you should stay here and keep an eye on things."

Sebastian didn't bother to hide his glare as he scowled at me. "I'm not staying behind. What kind of bullshit is that? Newt could be up there."

"That staircase is the only way up," I said, glancing pointedly at his leg. Unfortunately, he didn't take the hint and I had to say it out loud. "You can barely walk. There's no way you're climbing a full set of stairs."

Standing as straight as his crutch would allow, Sebastian shoved his way through the door. "Newt might be up there. I'm going. See if you can stop me."

Sighing deeply and preparing for the worst, I followed after him with one hand poised near my gun at all times.

To Sebastian's credit, he did manage to climb the stairs through a series of odd peg-leg limping and one-legged hopping. He would first brace his bad leg on the step above. Then he would get his crutch firmly planted and quickly hop up with his good leg so his injured one never had to bear his weight for long.

The process worked, but it wasn't quiet.

It was already a miracle that he was getting around as well as he was, mostly due to sheer determination.

I helped him as much as I could, acting as a second crutch and keeping him on his feet when he nearly tumbled back down the stairs several times. Yet, I knew there was no way our journey up the stairs had gone unnoticed. Even the worst security guards, like the kind often portrayed in cartoons for the sake of comical slapstick, would have heard us coming. When we got to the top of the stairs, I expected to be met with weapons and violence.

Yet, we found nothing but an empty hallway and closed doors.

My stomach twisted with dread. It was too quiet, and we were making our way through the building too easily. Something was wrong.

The hallway had a few doors, but one was obviously more important than the others based on the way it was positioned as the center of attention. Just to be sure, we checked the two smaller doors to reveal a supply closet and a small, thankfully empty, bedroom.

The three of us huddled around the outside of the last door. When I put my ear up to the surface, I could hear faint movement inside. Someone was definitely there, but they weren't making enough noise for me to tell what they were doing.

There was no way to open the door without being noticed. Our only chance would be to burst inside quickly and take out whoever was inside before they could react.

At least Sebastian didn't try to fight me on entering the room first. With a silent nod of acknowledgment, he positioned himself beside the door where he could quickly turn the knob and get out of the way.

With gun in hand, I silently counted to three. Sebastian turned the handle with the hand not clutching his crutch and I kicked the door open.

Inside, I found a rather boring looking office with three people standing around. Looking down the sight of my gun, I found a familiar face on the other end.

"Frankie?"

"Gabe?"

We both immediately lowered the guns we'd been pointing at each other, too stunned to do anything more than stare for a moment.

Our shock was interrupted when Sebastian barreled past me into the room.

"Newt!"

A pair of equally familiar blue eyes peered around an opening in the wall that seemed to lead to a small, attached room. At the sound of his name, Newt stepped into the open and wrapped his arms around Sebastian as the two of them practically fell against each other.

Whispered words were past back and forth in their embrace, but I couldn't hear what they said. Although, I wasn't trying to listen anyway. I was too busy staring at Frankie who was nervously scratching at the back of his head.

"Sorry about…" He vaguely waved the gun around, then realized what he was doing and set the weapon down on the desk. "You know. Almost shooting you. That would have been a bad reunion."

He started laughing, but was cut off as I pulled him into a tight hug.

"Don't do that again," I said as I buried my face against his hair.

"What? Almost shoot you?"

"No. Don't get kidnapped again."

Frankie wrapped his arms around my waist and held tight enough that I would probably have bruises there tomorrow. "I'll try, but getting kidnapped wasn't really a choice. Otherwise, I would have chosen differently. It's not an experience I recommend."

Pulling away from the hug just enough to look him in the eye, I searched him for any sign of injury. I didn't see anything, but that didn't mean there weren't hidden wounds I couldn't see.

"Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

Frankie leaned his head against my chest, so my shirt muffled his words. "One of the security guys held my head under the water. Like I didn't need any more reason to hate swamps. It was gross. And terrifying. I'm never going anywhere near a swamp ever again."

Rage boiled under my skin at the thought of anyone laying a violent had on the other man. As much as I wanted to run off and kill every member of the building's security, I also didn't want to let Frankie go.

In the end, the desire to keep Frankie in my arms won out and I stayed right where I was.

"I killed a few people on the way in here and dumped their bodies in the water. Maybe the person who hurt you was one of them."

Frankie laughed until he cried. The tears didn't seem like happy ones, but I didn't say anything as I continued to hold him.

A clatter of metal and wood caught my attention. Sebastian's leg had apparently reached its limit and Newt was helping him sit on the desk. His crutch had banged against the furniture since he refused to let go of Newt, resulting in an ugly tangle of limbs.

Finally able to concentrate on more than just my relief at seeing Frankie alive, I took a better look around the room and flinched when I recognized the third person standing just a few feet away.

"Ozias Wren?"

I had my gun in my hand and pointed at the man before his name had even finished leaving my mouth.

Yet, to my surprise, Frankie grabbed my arm and forced it back to my side.

"No, wait, Gabe. It's okay. He's on our side."

I looked away from Ozias just long enough to raise an eyebrow in Frankie's direction. "What do you mean he's on our side? He's working for the Senator."

Rather than answer, Frankie just pointed at the floor. It was a testament to how distracted I was that I didn't notice the bodies lying on the floor. Two of them looked like bodyguards, while one was definitely Senator McLeod.

"What happened?"

"It's a long story. But, like I said, Ozias is on our side. He's not a threat."

I was still struggling to process what Frankie was saying. "You mean he killed the Senator?"

"Yeah, in order to… oh. What's Miss Bell doing here?"

Frankie was staring at Ozias with concern.

I followed his gaze to see Ozias standing off to the side of the room with a familiar boy in his arms.

Ozias and Tansie stared at each other, each with an unreadable expression on their faces.

"Who're you?" Ozias demanded as he held the boy closer and backed up a step. "What do you want?"

Tansie said nothing as she stared at the boy with a dozen different thoughts racing behind her eyes and her fists twisting at one of her braided pigtails.

Frankie pulled out of my arms and approached her with his hands held out in front of him like he was trying to sooth a frightened animal.

"Um, Miss Bell. Let me explain. There's a lot to talk about."

"No," she said with a voice that sounded like it came from a completely different voice box. "There's nothing to talk about."