Chapter Three

O nce they’d gone over the intel and talked potential courses of action, the team studied a map and pinpointed every known attack that had happened over the past two years, including Ellie’s. They all occurred within the same general vicinity in the South China Sea, near a cluster of Indonesian islands.

“Chances are their HQ is in that general area, too,” Brand mused.

“Right,” Chaz agreed. “They’re going to want somewhere close and accessible to stash their haul fast.”

“Problem is, Indonesia is comprised of over seventeen-thousand islands,” Xander informed them.

“We only need to focus on the smaller islands in this area,” Jayson said, dragging his finger in a circle on the map. “The ones closest to the attacks, if our assumption is correct and their hideout is close.”

“That’s a big if.” Xander’s voice was filled with doubt.

“Have some faith, Hawke,” Lex said.

“Lost that a long time ago,” Xander replied, blue eyes darkening. No one asked and he didn’t elaborate.

“When do we leave?” Wes was champing at the bit to get the hell out of Montana.

“Lex?” Brand asked, deferring to their pilot.

“We’re looking at about a seventeen-hour flight, boys, so as soon as you pack your neck pillows, blood pressure pills and compression socks, it’s wheels up.”

“Such a funny guy.” Chaz rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Chaz, since you’re a senior, I won’t make you take your shoes off before boarding. You know, for security purposes.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

They all chuckled.

“Get packed,” Brand said, checking the large watch on his wrist, “then let’s meet back here in thirty minutes and we’ll head straight to the airport. The good news is Mitch is providing us with plenty of new equipment and transpo.”

“Thank Christ. No offense, Lex, but I don’t think your piece of shit plane would’ve gotten us all the way to Indonesia,” Corey stated, and they all laughed.

“That’s the fucking truth,” Wes agreed, and he and Corey bumped knuckles. He was glad to see Corey in better spirits and mission-ready. Plus, he needed his best friend there with him when the time came to hunt down the assholes responsible for taking Ellie away from him. This op wasn’t going to be easy, but Wes had a feeling it was going to be good for him. Finally give him the opportunity to get his revenge. Or, so he hoped.

The drive back to his place wasn’t far, but it was just long enough for him to start flipping through the radio stations and stumble upon the one song with the power to wreck him. Fuck. “She’s Got a Way” by Billy Joel. Every time he heard it, thoughts of Ellie consumed him. Each line could’ve been written just for her and it had always been their song. He’d once serenaded her with it in the rain, and they’d danced to it at their wedding.

It was nearly dark by the time he reached his house. He didn’t really call it home because any place without Ellie was merely a building made of bricks and concrete. The essence of what could’ve made it so special, so warm, cozy and full of love, was long gone. Wes’ throat tightened with emotion and the driveway blurred as he turned in and parked. The onslaught of memories pounded through him, leaving his poor heart wrung out and his cheeks wet. Anger and raw emotion roared through him, and he slammed a fist against the steering wheel.

Why didn’t it get any easier?

Because she was your everything, a little voice reminded him. The reason you breathed, smiled and loved.

Without her, he was nothing. A lost soul destined to wander this earth aimlessly.

Squeezing his eyes shut, his mind wandered back to the one time he’d royally fucked up. The only time he thought he might’ve messed things up enough to lose her. It had been a fight over getting a dog, but the real issue had been their inability to conceive. They’d both expected to have children at some point, but when it wasn’t happening, they’d gone to the doctor, seeking answers. After running some tests on them both, the doctor had explained their chances of conceiving naturally were low. Although disappointed, they’d still tried, but it wasn’t in the cards. Ellie suggested they adopt a dog and Wes had asked how a dog could replace raising a child. The argument had escalated until Ellie stormed out.

Panicked, determined to get her back, he’d gone to her parents’ house and pulled a move from the Say Anything playbook, showing up on the front lawn with a boombox and singing “She’s Got a Way.” Of course, it started raining and the tape cut off mid-song, but Wes just kept singing his heart out.

Despite his awful voice, Ellie had come out and finished singing the song with him. Then she threw herself into his arms and forgave him. Thank Christ. They’d danced in the rain together, humming their song, and he’d promised her he’d never be an idiot again.

That was the night she told him she didn’t need anything else to make her happy except him. Not a baby, not a dog. Just them together, forever, and she would be the happiest woman on the planet. The kind of love they’d shared was rare and beautiful and wonderful.

Ellie had truly been his one-in-a-million.

Wes turned the Explorer off and reached for the jar of ashes, remembering how he used to pull Ellie onto his lap. How she used to wrap herself around him like an octopus and kiss him senseless. Now all the beauty and warmth, her vibrance, was gone. All that remained was dust.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

“I’m going to put an end to them, Ellie-Bean, so they never hurt anyone again,” he whispered. “I promise you.”

◆◆◆

The dream was one she’d had before. But this time, Ellie could see more details and recall things that had been fuzzy previously.

She was walking through the house, not sure who it belonged to or what exactly she was doing. It didn’t feel like she was breaking and entering, though. Something about the space felt familiar. Cozy even.

The setup of the living room was lovely. Two recliners, side by side, a couch with a soft throw laying across its back, fluffy pillows, fresh daisies in a vase on the coffee table. The windows were open and the curtains blew inward, caught in the breeze.

Running her fingers along the back of a recliner, she paused and looked down at the bowl of jelly beans on the table in between the chairs. Grabbing a handful of them, she plucked a red one up and popped it into her mouth. Mmm, she loved jelly beans. Always had. It’s why Wes always made sure there were bowls of them around the house, full of her favorite flavors.

Wes…

Where was Wes?

Ellie’s eyes popped open, the tangy, sweet cherry taste still on her tongue. “Wes,” she said, sitting up. Again, that name. She began to rub her temples, trying to force her mind to remember who he was and why he seemed so important. This was the second time she’d thought that specific name and it felt like she was on the verge of a breakthrough.

Finally. Thank God. She’d been stuck in darkness for a year and a half, struggling to piece fragments together, doing her best to make sense of dreams and random thoughts. She’d been desperate for a name, something specific to help trigger her memory. And now she had one.

“Wes…Wes…Wes…” Repeating the name helped anchor her thoughts which, until very recently, seemed like floating, wispy clouds. The moment she reached out to grab onto one, it dissolved into nothingness. “Who are you?”

Although she didn’t know that answer yet, a surge of excitement and hope swept through her. Living on an isolated island where the population didn’t speak English wasn’t helping her remember her past. But she’d gotten her hands on a map of the United States and studied it closely, wondering where she’d lived. For whatever reason, her attention always moved to the left side of the country, making her think she might’ve lived somewhere out west.

Or, maybe it was the word “west” that she’d been drawn to. It sounded very similar to Wes.

Ellie dropped back on her pillow and grinned. Maybe she was grasping at straws, but at least she had something to grab onto now. Something that felt tangible, possible. Because up until earlier that day, she’d had nothing.

And now she was craving jelly beans. With a laugh, Ellie snuggled down into her blanket and hoped when she fell back asleep, she would discover more secrets about who she was and where she came from.

◆◆◆

Being stuck on an airplane for seventeen hours wasn’t Wes’ favorite thing to do, but the private jet was a helluva lot better than Spitfire , Lex’s Antonov An-26. Every time he’d traveled on the old Soviet aircraft and made it back home without incident, he considered it a small miracle. Sure, Lex claimed she was in great condition, but Wes much preferred the comfort of the sleek jet they were on now.

The long flight gave Wes time to gather his thoughts and mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do—check his conscience at the door and engage in a slaughter. No mercy. Because these bastards hadn’t shown Ellie or her crew an ounce of compassion.

As they traveled closer and closer to the place Wes hated most, simmering rage began to boil inside of him. What gave those fuckers the right to play God? To take away the most important, most precious person in his life? How dare they destroy the woman who’d brought him so much joy? Snuff out her light. Take away his reason for everything.

So many torturous questions still plagued him. What exactly had happened? Where the hell had Paul, their security, been when the pirates boarded? Ellie had always been brave, but Wes knew she must’ve been terrified during those final moments. Had her death been quick? Prolonged? Or, the thought he despised most, was she humiliated? Abused? Violated in any way?

Sucking in a sharp breath, Wes remembered the vague report he’d gotten about the incident through a military buddy with connections to the Indonesian government. The attack had been swift and deadly. All victims had been shot. Any valuables were stolen, including Ellie’s wedding rings. The knowledge that some asshole had taken her engagement ring and wedding band, which represented his and Ellie’s love, renewed Wes’ fury. He clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking.

There’d been no autopsies. Wes had been about to board a plane to retrieve Ellie’s body when his buddy told him the victims had already been cremated and the ashes would be returned. Fucking cremated without his permission or knowledge.

Furious, Wes still flew to Indonesia. He’d insisted on searching the research vessel Ellie and her team had been on, desperate for evidence or a clue as to who had committed such a heinous act. The image of the sea serpent drawn on a wall and finding the charm from Ellie’s necklace still haunted him.

With nothing else to go on, he went to the local morgue, screamed at them for cremating her and took her ashes. He’d lost his mind a little, but he’d been an absolute mess. An emotional basket case looking for someone to take his anger, hurt and frustration out on.

But now he had a new piece to the puzzle, a fresh lead that could help him track down Ellie’s killers. And nothing would stop him. Not his conscience and certainly not having only one leg.

Wes looked down at the prosthetic limb in the seat beside him. The moment he put it on, the clock began ticking, so he planned to keep it off until they landed. An amputee could only wear a prosthesis for a certain amount of time. It created stress and pressure on the rest of his body which could lead to not only pain and discomfort, but also early degeneration of his lower back, hip, knee and ankle. Skin breakdown at the attachment point was always an issue and he’d dealt with his fair share of blisters, abrasions and swelling. Sweating and moisture was a whole other level of discomfort, but he was prepared and used a special antiperspirant, a moisture wicking sock and a well-fitted liner to minimize those effects.

Even with all that, it wasn’t going to be perfect. All the humping through the jungle and inevitable moisture from sweat would cause his stump to burn and most likely blister. But if it led to Ellie’s murderers, every searing step would be worth it.

“Hey.” Wes looked over at Corey who sat on his other side. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Wes met Corey’s intense blue eyes. They were like two ethereal shards of ice, bright and diamond-like above his full, dark beard. An emptiness, much like Wes’, made them appear vacant more times than not.

“I mean anything, Murph.”

His friend’s offer was clear and Wes nodded his thanks. Corey had his back and was ready to slay some pirates. Shit, they were a fucked-up duo. It might’ve been for two very different reasons, but their brokenness complemented each other’s. Much like a pack of Twix that got crushed somewhere along its journey, they were a hot mess, but still damn good.

After what felt like forever in the air, the plane landed at a small private airport on an island adjacent to the ones the team planned to scour. They quickly realized Mitch’s contacts could get anything they wanted and every request had been met—gear, transpo, weapons, housing, communication.

After disembarking, Wes and the others met with their contact, a local named Bayu, who handed them keys to an SUV, a nearby house and a boat. He spoke English, albeit a bit broken, and while Brandon talked to him, Wes took a few steps away, trying to control the rapid beating of his heart. His emotions were in turmoil knowing this was the last place Ellie had been alive. If only he would’ve gone with her right away instead of sending security. Maybe he would’ve been able to save her and the others.

Or, maybe he’d be dead now, too.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed every what-if along with his grief, remorse and sadness into a mental box, slammed the lid shut and locked it up tight. The only emotion he allowed himself to feel was rage. But he kept it under wraps and carefully controlled. If the rest of his team thought he’d be a problem, they wouldn’t hesitate to pull him off the op. And there was no fucking way that was happening.

Corey moved up beside him, clasped a hand over his shoulder and squeezed. “Ready, Murph?”

“Yeah,” Wes growled. “Let’s go pirate-hunting.