Chapter Sixteen

S hiloh had never been inside such a small airport hangar before. The industrial structure had high ceilings supported by sturdy metal beams. Two small planes were parked inside. One of them looked like an oversized insect with a bubble-shaped body and flimsy wings.

“I hope you don’t intend to put me in that thing. It doesn’t look like it can get off the ground with more than one passenger.” She waved a hand at the aircraft.

William stood close to her, and Collette Drummond, or whatever her real name was, flanked her on the other side. The two of them weren’t letting her get far, not that Shiloh had any brilliant ideas for escape.

Her captors traded a look she couldn’t discern. Either they wanted to bash her over the head so she quit talking, or her question made them think harder about how they were all getting out of here.

Drummond leaned in close to William. The covert whispers they traded didn’t speak as loud as their body language did. One look at how they moved in sync told Shiloh that they were lovers.

At one time, she would have been annoyed to learn this. Now, she couldn’t give less of a damn. She would happily invite them to climb into that small bug of a plane and fly off into the sunset—or sunrise in this case.

One of the airport employees wearing a black uniform with reflective stripes walked by.

“Hey! You!” William called out to him.

Had he always been this rude? He had. It just took him ripping the smoke screen away from Shiloh’s eyes for her to see that he treated anybody he believed beneath him badly.

The man looked at William and reluctantly changed direction to meet him. He carefully avoided looking at Shiloh, though she kept trying to catch his eye.

“What’s taking so long?” William demanded to know.

“There’s been a delay, sir.”

“What kind of delay? I paid for this flight to be in the air ten minutes ago!”

“Yes, sir. I’m aware. But it’s protocol to examine the aircraft inside and out to ensure it’s ready for flight.”

William looked so out of place in this small-town country hangar with his designer clothes and high-quality shoes. Even his coiffed hair was held in place by his stupid French pomade, while everyone else’s was blown into disarray by the Wyoming wind.

Her own blonde strands drifted around her face, but she didn’t care about anything but getting away from her two captors.

“How much longer will it be?” William’s tone was edgy. He was jittery.

She could use that to her advantage, but how?

The employee kept his stare trained on William. “Not much longer. Why don’t you have a seat in the waiting area and someone will come get you when we’re ready?”

He grunted and twisted away from the employee in a rude act of dismissal. When William centered his attention on Shiloh, she felt her stomach curdle. Though she hadn’t eaten anything since that romantic dinner with Oaks, her stomach still rebelled.

She breathed shallowly through her nose in an attempt to dispel her disgust.

When William latched on to her forearm with a grip of iron, she bit back a cry. Drummond shifted her jacket aside, allowing Shiloh to see the weapon she still had aimed at her.

“Walk, bitch.” Her voice was all English. It didn’t carry the accent of her native tongue, which made Shiloh all the more aware of how dangerous this person was. She could turn on her without batting a mascaraed eye.

With no other choice in sight, she allowed William to propel her toward the waiting area, which consisted of four chairs along the steel wall of the hangar. Not far away was an exit to the outside. She estimated the number of steps it would take for her to reach it, and tried to calculate if she could buy enough time to beat Drummond pulling the trigger.

She guessed no. Luck was not on her side in this case. She needed to use her wits and hope that Oaks realized something was wrong and came looking for her.

Oaks. God, she ached to set eyes on his face again. Would she? She shouldn’t think on the dark side, but the last year of her life was mostly storm clouds hovering over her.

Her two kidnappers forced her into a chair and stood over her menacingly. She looked up at William and then at Drummond. The woman’s lip curled.

Shiloh forced herself to draw a deep enough breath to gain a measure of control. “You can’t kill me, so call off your bitch.” She flicked her eyes to the woman.

Drummond snarled.

Shiloh raised her jaw. “I’m the only thing keeping you from poverty and prison. The feds will seize all your assets as soon as they have proof.”

William’s eyes narrowed on her.

“You can’t do anything to Oaks or anyone at Black Heart Security either.”

William got in her face, so close that his hot, sticky breath oozed over her skin. “You’re going to give me those files.”

“That was the deal before you forced me into a vehicle at gunpoint and brought me here. I was prepared to share everything with you and walk away just to be free of it all.”

Of course, she’d planned on then going to the authorities and telling them everything, but her captors didn’t need to know that.

She looked around again. “What do you plan to do with me once you stuff me in a plane? If you do plan to kill me, then why not just do it here? Now?” She tipped her jaw toward the woman in defiance.

The crew at the small airstrip was minimal. Nobody was in sight, though the low voices of mechanics and the clink of their tools echoed within the large space.

She stared at William until he was forced to look away—a small victory.

“What the hell is taking this flight crew so long?” He whipped around to look for someone. Spotting a guy, he walked up to him.

She couldn’t hear their discussion, but William’s movements were jerky, showing agitation. She didn’t know if it was good that he was so unhinged…or more terrifying.

“An hour?” William’s shout rebounded off the walls and made her inwardly wince.

An hour. Sixty minutes to figure out how to get out of this.

Sixty minutes for Oaks to find her.

William stormed back to her. “You’re going to give me those files. Now.”

“More delays on the flight?” she asked archly.

“There’s a mechanical issue.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw a man walk by—and look right at her.

They sensed something bad was going down.

Or Oaks alerted them not to let that plane get in the air.

Her heart jogged at the thought that he would be here soon.

William stalked over to the computer bag he took with him everywhere and carried it back. He thrust it at her. “Open those files.”

“You don’t have to be so rude.” She took the bag and set it on the seat beside her. With her captors hovering over her, she pulled out William’s personal device.

“Unlock it for me.” She held it out to him.

He tore it out of her hands and punched in a series of passcodes. When he shoved it back at her, she settled it on her lap and got to work.

He crowded next to her, watching every move she made as she accessed her personal account where the files were stored.

She purposely typed in the wrong series of numbers, and a red box flashed on the screen with a warning.

“Oops. My bad.”

“Fix it.” Hate and fury rioted in his tone.

“Or you’ll kill me? Okay.” She entered the numbers correctly this time, but she still had a fingerprint requirement.

She pressed her finger over the pad in the appropriate spot. Again, the red box popped up.

He let out a menacing growl.

“Wrong finger! Guess it’s off to all the news outlets, the CIA—the real one, not this imposter,” she added, “and the FBI.”

“You didn’t.” William’s face turned the color of ash.

She didn’t. But he didn’t need to know that.

Carefully, she set the device on the seat and folded her arms as if waiting for what was to come. Deep down, her nerves were rattling around, and her teeth were clenched hard enough she felt like they’d all shatter and fall out.

Oaks. I need you. Please get here!

“Now I’m going to be hunted!” Drummond screeched at William. “This is your fault! I need to get out of here—now!”

She ran over to the pilot, who appeared next to the plane as if he were an actor waiting to step onstage at his cue. She barreled up to the man, who stood his ground with self-assured ease.

“I need to get on that plane. Right now.” Drummond’s voice carried clear across the space as crystal clear as if she’d shouted into Shiloh’s ear.

He shook his head. “The crew’s almost finished the inspection, and I think it will pass. But now we can’t get clearance.”

“Why the hell not?” she demanded.

“Fog delay.”

“It wasn’t foggy ten minutes ago.”

“It rolls in fast off the mountains.” He shifted his gaze from Drummond to Shiloh.

Her stomach pitched and heaved. That pilot was definitely on her side. Oaks’s reach was long. These were his people, and Shiloh was under his protection. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

She just hoped he would hurry up.

* * * * *

The roar of the SUV tires on the tarmac filled the vehicle as Carson sped the distance from the road to the hangar. Oaks’s jaw ached from clenching it hard enough to crack his molars. His hands were fisted on his knees, and he had to pry his fingers open to reach for the door handle.

“They’re inside. That SUV matches the description of the one on the diner cam.”

Carson tossed him a look. “You take point. I’ve got your six.”

Colt would be right behind, and the authorities were already surrounding the place, rolling up silently so they could blast in and take down the people who had Shiloh.

“I almost wish we were alone so I could break his neck and watch the light leave his goddamn eyes.” His growl was punctuated by him cocking his weapon. With the cold steel in his grip, he prepared to leap out of the vehicle the second it stopped.

Carson jammed his boot down on the brake pedal. Tires screeched, and Oaks was out the door, sprinting to the entrance.

His lungs seized up, making breathing a strain. It had been a while since he experienced that sensation, a common one for him during his first skirmishes. During BUD/s training, he got in trouble more than once for holding his breath, and he almost didn’t make it through. But dammit, he was a SEAL, and he knew how to handle anything.

He focused on the door and kicked it in. It slammed off the inner wall with a clang and he burst inside, weapon at the ready.

A bullet whizzed past his ear. He threw himself to the side, his knee taking most of the impact on the concrete floor.

A grunt from behind made him jerk around. “Carson!”

“Missed me by a fucking hair. Literally. Go, bro. I got you.”

He scrambled to his feet. Shots exploded around him, but he threw a wild look around. “Shiloh!”

A muffled cry sounded from his left. He saw her on the floor with William’s hands around her throat. Her head slammed off the concrete, and she let out another strangled cry.

The world slowed. Oaks held his breath on purpose this time as he took aim and squeezed off the shot. William screamed and flew backward. Blood spurted from the hit he took in the shoulder.

In a blink, Oaks was on Shiloh, throwing his body over hers as a shield against the crazy bitch who was firing shots and hitting nothing.

“It’s okay, honey. I got you. I got you.” He hooked an arm around her back and lifted her against him as he dragged her several feet away to safety. “Talk to me, Shiloh. Can you breathe?”

He didn’t want to think about the things he’d seen in battle happening to the woman he loved with every throb of his heart.

“I’m…okay!” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a shudder.

He picked her up and ran to the wall, shoving her behind a big metal plane part that could act as a shield for the time being.

“Don’t move!” he ordered her and pushed off to run into the fray.

She grabbed on to his calf, her fingers digging in so hard that he’d be wearing half-moon bruises. “Don’t go, Oaks!”

“I have to. This isn’t over.” He met her wide blue-gray eyes and shot forward.

Immediately, he picked out Colt’s plaid shirt sleeve from behind one of the planes. This crazy bitch was going to shoot a gas tank out and the whole building would blow.

Why the hell weren’t he and his brothers wearing communication devices? Because there had been no time to grab a set and now they would need to rely on other ways of communicating.

He shot a brief glance to his right to see Carson and William locked in a wrestling match that William could never win. But adrenaline from his gunshot wound and the fear of life behind bars gave him enough push to try wrenching the weapon out of Carson’s hand.

His brother delivered a kick to the man’s midsection that doubled him over. With both of his brothers accounted for, Oaks realized the sheriff and his deputy were pinned down by the woman raining bullets on them.

“You’ll never take me!” Her high-pitched scream dripped with desperation.

As Oaks looked on, she dropped a spent magazine and slammed a new one into her weapon.

The woman was not playing around. She was prepared to take out anybody in her path.

She fired at him. He dove behind a rolling cart of tools. From his cover, he popped out and returned fire. She threw herself to the side, hiding behind an airplane wing.

Fuck. He couldn’t take that shot and risk striking that gas tank. Most frequently they were in the wings of small crafts.

He had to draw her out. Just one step into the open and he could finish this.

In the back of his mind, he realized that the focus of his hatred all this time had been Shiloh’s ex, but he was too weak and had the Russian spy doing his dirty work.

“Come out!” she screamed at Oaks.

Suddenly, his mind pitched him backward to the moment when they got Decker out of those inhumane conditions and found out he could no longer talk.

No. No. No.

He grabbed his skull, willing those images of horrific wounds and the stench of fear and death that clung to his nostrils away. The fog cleared, only allowing a worse one to roll in and envelop him fully.

The moment when he got word that Eric had gone over the edge and was no longer on this earth.

Extreme flashes of pain lit his mind like strikes of lightning. He should have done something more to help Eric. He should have been with Decker, and then maybe they wouldn’t have captured him.

Oaks had failed.

He dug his fingers into his skull and battled for what felt like hours but could only be milliseconds.

Tension pulsated in the room, and his ears rang from the sharp gun blasts and the crash of bullets off steel walls.

He had to get it together and finish this. He may have failed his best friend and his brother-in-arms, but he would not fail Shiloh.

He remained completely silent, waiting for the Russian operative’s next move.

When he peeked out, he could only see her ankle.

He took the shot.

She shrieked and crumpled.

She also unloaded her weapon at him.

Now that she was on the ground, he had a clear shot that wouldn’t hit the gas tank.

Sudden pain sliced through his side. He felt the air slam from his lungs even as his vision blurred. He still saw clearly enough to take a final shot.

The woman hit the floor.

“No!” Shiloh’s pained scream echoed. Hot blood pulsed out of Oaks’s side with each beat of his heart.

“No deal! You broke the deal!” Shiloh ran to a chair and picked up a laptop that he hadn’t noticed before. Through a haze of stinging pain, he saw her rapidly tapping the keys.

Then she was at his side, maneuvering his head into her lap. The warm, steady fall of her tears kept him grounded.

“I love you. So damn much,” he rasped.

“Oh god. Oaks!” Her voice wobbled. “You’re going to be all right.” She looked up at his brother, who hit his knees next to him. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

Carson grunted as he examined what felt like a hole that went all the way through his side and exited his back. “It’s close to the side. It might not have hit anything vital.”

Shiloh’s eyes swam with tears, making them a brighter blue than ever. When she looked at him, he saw all the love in those beautiful eyes.

He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch.

“Everything’s going to be all right, honey.” The words broke on his dry tongue. “It’s over now.”