Chapter 15

Blake followed Kian out of the brush and onto the rocks, trying not to imagine all the ways she could still get his team killed. How Raider might not make it back to Harlan, or that they could both get killed if Russo had more boats. The kind with mounted machine guns or rocket launchers. Just like the one they'd salvaged off of Puerto Rico — what had gotten this whole sordid ball rolling in the first place.

She glanced at Kian's thigh, wincing at the large bloody stain on his cargo pants. The one getting bigger by the second. Graze, her ass. He probably still had the bullet lodged beneath the skin. Not that it was slowing him down. Hell, he wasn't even really limping. Just the occasional drag of that leg that was almost unnoticeable.

She'd noticed. Had spied the graze on Raider's arm, too. That had looked disturbingly like the one Harlan had gotten during their truck race out of the ranch. All she needed was for Waylen and Lane to get hit, and she'll have gotten Kian's entire team injured.

That was the hard part. Sure, she'd gladly take a bullet for them, but knowing they'd do the same — had already gotten hit — messed with her brain. Made all of this acutely real, again, after she'd finally started to think she might be free. That time and distance had taken the fight out of Henry Russo.

She'd been wrong, and that one stupid video might be the reason these brave men didn't get the futures they'd been shaping.

Kian slowed just enough to shove her in front — block any possible hits from behind as they closed in on the edge of the rocks. Where Raider had said Waylen was waiting. She wanted to resist — tell him she should take point — but it was a wasted argument that would only eat up time they didn't have.

Having him pounce on her a moment later, taking them both to the ground, was unexpected. Hearing gunfire echo behind them a sure sign those men had followed them, just like Raider had claimed.

Kian returned a few trigger pulls before the entire beach erupted in a fountain of sand and rock, the deafening explosion vibrating through her. This was more than the lights and sounds from the first round. More like a well-placed line of C4. Or something similar. Blake didn't know if Raider had set it off manually, or if the men had activated some kind of trip wire. Either way, they were down. Nothing but blowing sand and debris visible behind them.

That was their cue to move. A jump up, and they were racing for the rocks, again, Kian still covering her. They stopped just shy of the edge, when Porter waved them on.

Kian moved in close. "You jump first. I'm right behind you."

Another decision she didn't have time to question. Not when more shots rang out behind them. Either the men had only been knocked back or there was another group. Maybe targeting Raider as he raced back to cripple the remaining boats with Harlan.

Grunting, she launched herself off, Porter catching some of her weight as she landed on the deck. Kian dropped in a second later. Another report sounded behind them, the lasting echo making her shiver.

She steadied herself as Porter released the rope they'd lassoed around one of the rocks. "Are you sure Raider will be okay? That's a lot of gunfire."

Kian grinned. "That's Lane. We'll reposition to get him on the other side of this outcrop."

All those shots had been Lane? From whatever nest he'd been hunkered down in? She wasn't sure what shocked her more, that there were still men to eliminate or how quick the guy was reloading.

She grabbed the rail when Waylen started moving, deftly piloting the craft around a series of rocks then over to a more precarious section of cliffs. Definitely not the kind she'd want to jump from, even into the boat. With her luck, she'd break an ankle or land on one of the men.

Waylen steered toward the edge, somehow holding it remarkably steady without actually tying off. Not that there was a place he could have placed a rope, but the guy made it look easy. They'd only been waiting a couple minutes when Lane's head appeared above them. He made a few hand signals, then vanished, appearing a moment later as he leaped off the rocks, landing perfectly in the center of the boat. His rifle strapped to his back.

Kian grabbed Lane's arm to help steady him. "Not too shabby for an old man."

Lane gave him a shove. "I'm not the one Waylen nicknamed Ancient, buddy."

"Waylen's an ass."

"He is. He also isn't the one bleeding. How bad?"

Kian waved it off. "Just a couple scratches."

Lane snorted. "That's what you always say when you're the one who's hit. If it's one of us, suddenly it's a medical emergency."

"That's because you guys always go that extra mile and take a few to the important areas. Medic, remember? I'm fine. Now, how about we end this? Russo's got to be close and down on protection."

Porter motioned toward the far side of the island. "We saw a few boats coming from that direction. We figure he's hiding around the point in the next inlet. It also means he'll see us coming."

Waylen snorted. "Not when I turn off all the running lights and stick close to the shore. Don't worry, Porter. The bastard won't know what hit him until it's too late."

"SEALs." Porter looked her directly in the eyes. "I know you're not going to like this, but you need to keep your butt planted in the Scarab. I'd insist that you stay on the main vessel, but I don't need you socking me in the eye. Just keep your head down and your ass in the seat."

Blake only nodded, aware she might scream if she opened her mouth. He was right. She didn't like it, but she was the target. And the last thing they needed was for her to get in their way. She wasn't too proud to admit this was where Kian and his team excelled. She needed to give them the space to do their job without worrying she might get hurt.

But if things went for shit…

Kian gave Waylen a nod and the guy took off, once again weaving them through some nasty rocks and a section of reef before opening it up — angling them over toward Presley's boat. The one Blake hoped was still there — still in one piece. Because it seemed viable that the mercenaries had sunk it. Or sabotaged it. Seeing it appear on the horizon looking remarkably untouched eased some of the tension in her chest. Realizing the rest of Kian's crew was already onboard, actually allowed her to gasp in some air.

Raider grabbed the rope Lane tossed them, bringing the boat alongside theirs. "We crippled all the boats we could find. There's still a chance they might have one or two hidden but for the most part, anyone still alive will be stranded until they either walk out or get caught by the authorities. And Harlan's been in contact with the Coast Guard. They're waiting for your signal, as discussed. I doubt Russo will see that one coming."

Blake snapped her gaze to Kian. "The Coast Guard's in on this?"

He grinned. "You didn't think we were going to let anyone escape, did you? And they're the authority out here. They also have skin in the game, so to speak. And when they realized they might have a chance to help Porter bring in Henry Russo?" Kian whistled. "They were all-in, sweetheart. Seems you made quite an impression over the years."

She wouldn't cry. Not yet. "I'd say it's poetic, but I'll wait until this is over. But thank you."

"Thank Porter. He's the one who thought your fellow teammates would be the perfect backup. You ready to end this?"

She nodded, checking her supplies, again. Not that she'd gone through many, but it made the fluttering in her stomach ease. Because as prepared as they were, she knew things could still get ugly.

Lane hopped out. Apparently, he was going to be their overwatch on the main vessel along with Raider and Harlan. More backup in case Russo had any surprises left. Kian, Waylen and Porter would go aboard — eliminate any remaining forces, then grab Russo. Simple, except she knew it was anything, but.

Raider gave their boat a shove, then they were off. Slower than before. Blake wasn't sure if Waylen had checked his speed for some tactical reason, the oppressive darkness or because of an inbound storm starting to kick up the waves. Not quite at the level most captains would dock, but it had the potential to get ugly if the wind picked up. Though, that could also play to their advantage because she bet her ass Russo's guys didn't have the kind of experience her team did.

Waylen kept the boat steady, killing the lights once they got close to the peninsula lest they get spotted by any other vessels on the other side. Everything vanished into utter darkness, the moon and stars now obscured by the thick cloud layer.

God, what she wouldn't give to have her helicopter. Be able to supply support from above. That was where she had control. This… There was a reason she was a pilot and not a sailor. Sure, she could maneuver a boat better than most, but in the dark with rough seas…

Waylen didn't even blink. Kept the bow pointed where they needed to go. Even close to shore, he somehow avoided any potential pitfalls, dodging the rocks she knew lurked below. By the time they reached the edge of the cove, she was sweating. Hoping they were right, and this would all end in their favor.

Lights danced just above the surface five hundred meters off to their left, bobbing up and down with every wave. It looked like a daybridge. Obviously, Russo wasn't sparing his comfort. Not that it should surprise her. Hunting her down was nothing more than an annoyance. An inconvenience he needed to deal with before he could jet off to a country without an extradition order. Or, maybe he'd planned on staying in Florida courtesy of those judges Porter believed the man owned. Either way, the boat was large enough it could handle the waves for a bit longer before Russo might tell them to leave.

Which meant this part of the mission was a go.

Porter moved in beside her, looking less impressed than previously. Though, that likely had to do with the growing waves and not the proximity of Russo's yacht. He gave her a long hard look, then moved off, grabbing the rail when the boat yawed to the left.

Kian came over, next. He didn't say anything just gave her hand a squeeze — stood lover-close to her. She glanced at his wounds, giving him a raise of her brow, but he simply smiled, and dipped in for a quick kiss.

"I'll treat them as soon as we're done. Promise. You just make sure you don't get hit if there's any crossfire."

Blake snorted. "As if I'll be taking any of the risk."

"Shit happens, sweetheart. And I need to know you're safe if I'm going to be the man you need me to be."

She tiptoed up — palmed his cheeks. "I need you to be the man that's still alive when this is done."

He smiled, kissed her, again, then turned and headed for the stern, focusing on Waylen. She couldn't tell if Waylen gave Kian some kind of hand signal or if he was just waving. Not with how dark it was. But Kian obviously understood because he signaled a few times with a flashlight back toward the other boat.

They stopped about a hundred meters off, a few men patrolling the deck clearly visible against the backlight. Blake wasn't sure why everyone was staring at the guys until one jerked then dropped. No warning, no loud report, just the waves crashing against the rocks in the distance and the guy falling out of sight.

A brief pause, then the guy at the stern vanished. Blake didn't know if he'd ducked into the cabin or jumped off the end with how quickly he'd disappeared. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was suffering some sort of head trauma, when the final guard at the bow fell over the front and below the surface a second later.

Lane.

Christ, that's who Kian had been signaling. And despite the constant pitching of the deck, the wind and the utter darkness, Lane had hit each man with a single shot. Sure, he'd been exceptional in the chopper, making each bullet count. But this…

This went beyond that. Put him at the top of whatever chart they used to rank snipers.

A hushed, "Hooyah," from the men, then the boat was speeding ahead. As fast as possible in the choppy waves. Waylen had them snugged against the yacht in record time — Kian tying the two together. He gave her one last look, then climbed up and over the railing, flanking to one side as Waylen took the other. Porter went last, one final glance back to ensure she wasn't following, then the men branched off, quickly disappearing from sight.

If Blake had thought waiting for Russo's men to make a move had been agonizing, this was pure torture. Sitting there in the dark, no sounds other than the constant break of the waves against the hulls. Knowing the next few minutes would define how the rest of her life panned out.

The boat rocked hard against the yacht with the next wave, sending her sliding across the seat. She grabbed the rail, leaning over to check the ropes when a set of probes hit her shoulder, knocking her onto the deck. Pain shot through her chest, squeezing so tight she couldn't breathe. A tip of the vessel then two men were onboard, wetsuits and scuba gear making them look like monsters until they removed their masks. Hit her with the taser a second time.

Was it getting darker? Colder? She couldn't tell. Dots and streaks shifted across her vision until there were only spots of light visible. Her entire body numb from the jolts of electricity.

The bigger guy leaned over her. "Thought your bodyguards weren't ever going to leave. Russo's been waiting a long time for this. I'd hate to disappoint him, now."