Chapter Four

T he nondescript boat looked like a large fishing vessel and blended into the local waters well. The Indonesian flag snapped in the breeze above him as Wes looked out over the railing, scanning the approaching shoreline with binoculars. Every time his attention dropped to the blue-green water, he saw Ellie’s eyes and the vengeance burning inside him was almost unbearable. He needed an outlet for it fast or he might combust.

Wes wasn’t stupid or reckless, though. They had a plan, and he wouldn’t deviate and put the others in danger. In order to find these fuckers, they had to be diligent and thorough in their search. There was a lot of ground to cover, and the last thing he wanted was for a local to tip the pirates off and send them into hiding. Letting those assholes slip through their fingers wasn’t a chance Wes was willing to take. He didn’t come all this way to be impulsive and foolhardy; he came to spill some Sea Dog blood.

Jayson guided the boat as close to shore as he dared before dropping anchor. Wes and Corey lowered a Zodiac while Brand, Chaz, Lex and Xander gathered equipment and tossed it into the smaller boat. Once everything was in order, they took turns rappelling down into the fast-engine rubber raft. Jayson moved to the helm and guided the Zodiac straight into a well-concealed cove, hidden by green foliage and lots of low-hanging branches.

Once they dragged the boat up onto the shoreline, Wes checked the GPS on his watch and oriented himself. First order of business was to sweep toward the southern end of the island where jungles, lagoons, caves and islets offered endless hiding spots. Even with intel from the CIA, they needed some luck on their side. They could potentially be wrong in their search efforts, and that was a reality none of them wanted to spend too much time dwelling on. Because if that were the case, sweeping seventeen thousand islands seemed a bit overwhelming.

But Wes had no plans to give up. Never had, never would. He’d been a SEAL, for chrissake. He embraced the suck every single day, and a few extra—or thousand—islands weren’t going to stop him from finding Ellie’s killers.

Sure, it might take him the rest of his life but, in his mind, his targets were as good as dead.

The first day ended up being a bust. After scouring several islands and humping through endless jungle, Wes’ stump burned like a sonofabitch. The uneven ground made his hips ache with every step, but he pushed through the pain, focusing instead on Ellie’s suffering and what it must’ve been like for her when her boat had been attacked. Thoughts of his wife renewed his determination and gave him the strength to continue.

Once the sun set and it became too dark to search, the team returned to the safe house. Wes practically hobbled into the bedroom he was sharing with Corey, dropped down in a chair and grimaced as he removed his prosthetic limb. He’d ignored the pain all day, but it refused to be disregarded any longer.

“You okay?” Corey asked, coming in and stripping off his tactical vest and sweat-soaked t-shirt.

“Well, it looks better than it did after getting hit by that PKM,” Wes answered wryly. He poured some witch hazel on a towel, laid it over his blistered stump and clenched his jaw. Although he had some painkillers, he didn’t want to take them unless absolutely necessary. He wanted to remain totally alert and in control at all times.

“There’s a seat in the shower. If you need help getting in—”

“I’ll be fine,” Wes interrupted, lashing out harder than he intended. He didn’t want special treatment. Other than finding Ellie’s killers, nothing was more important than making sure his team knew he wouldn’t drag them down, slow them up or require extra assistance.

“Murph, it’s just me in here,” Corey said in a low voice. “Don’t be a stubborn pain in the ass. I know it hurts, so grab my goddamn arm and let me help you get in the shower.”

Corey’s eyes glittered like the shards of ice they resembled, and Wes knew better than to argue or continue to put up a front. With a sharp nod, he reached for his friend’s arm, grabbed hold and pulled himself up. Wrapping an arm around Corey’s shoulders, he used him as a crutch and hopped into the bathroom. His attention moved to the shower stall where he saw a seat and handrail. Thank Christ. Brand must’ve put in the request and he owed his friend a thank you.

With Corey’s help, Wes got in and sat down. Soap, shampoo, a razor, shaving cream and a washcloth were all within reach, as well as a towel to dry off. “Thanks, Cor,” Wes murmured, hating that he needed help with something so simple, but knowing it was just a fact of life for him.

“I’ll grab your shorts. Need anything else?”

Wes shook his head. Asking Corey for help didn’t sit well with him, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright then. You know where I am.”

Corey pulled the door shut behind him and left Wes to bathe in private. After removing his clothes, he found the right water temperature and used the handheld showerhead to rinse the jungle grime away. He soaped up then sat back and let the cool water wash over him, his thoughts drifting back to the beginning, right after his life-altering injury.

After returning to the States, Wes had been transported directly to Walter Reed Memorial Hospital. He knew exactly what that meant: Do not pass go, do not go home, do not collect a normal paycheck ever again. Through all of the trials and tribulations, Ellie had been his salvation. Immediately after the amputation, the risk of infection had been a constant threat, one that could’ve resulted in them having to cut off more of his leg. The thought had fucking terrified him.

Luckily that worst case scenario didn’t come to pass, but there were plenty of other demons to deal with. The sweating and sores were just the icing on his shit cake.

Depression had set in after Wes realized how much harder his life was going to be. Simple things required so much more effort, and the challenges and struggles were nearly overwhelming at first. Everything was a goddamn tripping hazard, getting up in the middle of the night to pee was a major production and stairs were a bitch. In the beginning, bathing took an hour and he’d insisted he didn’t need help. Of course that was bullshit. He’d slipped, fallen and hit his damn head. Ellie had panicked then instantly tore him a new one. After the doctor gave him ten stitches in his stubborn noggin, she’d kissed him and made him promise to let her help.

When his world had gone dark and turned into the blackest, most hopeless pit of despair and utter shit, Ellie became his rock. If it weren’t for her, pushing and cheering him on, he wouldn’t have made it.

Adjusting to his new prosthetic hadn’t been easy, either. But Ellie had been there to help him literally every step of the way. She’d been his angel—positive, encouraging and so loving. For the entire duration of his stay, she never left his side. As he endured countless surgeries, grueling physical therapy and endless counseling for months and months on end, she held his hand, wiped away his tears of self-pity and frustration, and told him how very much she loved him and believed he could get through this challenge like everything else.

But, he hadn’t wanted to rely on her for everything constantly. He knew he needed to learn how to take care of things himself and regain his independence. So he pushed himself harder than ever before, more than BUD/S and all of his SEAL training combined, determined to figure it all out and live his very best life. With Ellie at his side, they’d done exactly that. Nowadays, he rarely gave a second thought to his reduced mobility, fast fatigue and the way people stared. It was his normal. However, he’d anticipated her being beside him forever and that loss would never be anything but abnormal.

Wes shut the water off and reached for the towel. As he dried off, Corey knocked, then opened the door and tossed him his shorts. “If you need help putting those on, I’ll get Chaz or Lex to do the honors. I love you, man, but I don’t want to see your junk.”

“Fuck off,” Wes grumbled, and Corey chuckled.

After some maneuvering, Wes pulled the shorts up around his waist and sighed. He was fucking exhausted. Luckily, he was trained to endure pain and discomfort longer than the average person. And although he’d never give up the search, he hoped to Christ they found their target sooner rather than later.

◆◆◆

The plan was to head out at sunrise, but Wes woke up earlier than the others and used some of the massage therapy techniques he’d learned to prepare himself for the grueling day ahead. Thankfully, proper attention last night had taken care of the blisters he’d developed. Now, sitting in a chair, he rubbed an antibiotic ointment over his stump, massaging gently. It was a highly effective method of reducing nerve and underlying tissue sensitivity. And, let’s face it, he needed all the help he could get.

In the other bed, Corey began to mumble in his sleep. Wes didn’t pay much attention until his friend started to grow louder and more disturbed, thrashing back and forth.

“Shit,” Wes swore. He was willing to bet Corey was having a nightmare about their mission gone wrong so many years earlier. The one that haunted him, that he refused to forgive himself over. Pushing up, Wes hopped over to the bed and gave Corey a shake. “Hey, Cor, wake up.”

Corey jumped up like he’d just gotten a bayonet in the ass. “Fuck,” he hissed, swiping a hand through his messy hair. Once he realized where he was, he heaved out a long breath. “Sorry. Fucking nightmares.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Wes murmured and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Damn, we’re a fucked-up pair, huh?”

Corey choked back a half-snort, half-laugh. “The worst.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just reflected on their shitty turns of luck.

Wes finally glanced down at his large watch. “We leave in thirty. I need to eat a power bar and finish getting ready.”

“Roger that. Hopefully we have better luck today.” His attention dropped to Wes’ stump. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Murph, but if you need to sit down and take a break at any time, we will.”

No, he didn’t want to hear it, or be the reason the team had to slow down and take it easy, but Corey was right. Wes was pushing fifty. He didn’t possess the strength he used to have and everything took him a little longer to do. As much as he hated to admit it, he had a disability. Even so, he’d die before he let it stop him.

“I know,” Wes said, forcing himself to be realistic. A five-minute break after a few hours of humping through the jungle wasn’t going to hurt anything. “Thanks, Cor.”

They bumped knuckles, then Corey headed off to the bathroom while Wes finished preparing himself, mentally and physically, for the arduous mission ahead.

Once he and Corey were ready, they met the others in the living room. As they sucked down some coffee and mapped out their search area, Brand’s phone beeped with a text message. He opened it up and a slow grin spread across his face.

“Mitch just saved us a lot of work, boys,” Brand stated and looked up from his phone.

“What’s up?” Lex asked.

Brand grabbed a marker, leaned over the map spread out on the table, and pointed to two adjacent islands. “Our target was busy last night. Chief said they attacked a boat, killed the crew and cleaned out the valuables.” He circled the two small islands. “Witnesses saw the pirates take off in this direction.”

Brand drew a line straight to the islands. Wes’ heart kicked up at the new intel and he clenched his fists. His entire body thrummed with the need to seek his long-overdue vengeance. Now, it was so close he could taste it—the sweetly strange taste of metal. Metallic, like the blood he was itching to spill.

“I think Mitch just saved us a shitload of precious time,” Chaz said.

Wes squinted, studying the map closely, trying to determine which island would be the better option. “Are they inhabited?” he asked.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Brand stated.

“I’m guessing it’s not their HQ,” Xander said thoughtfully. “More than likely, they have a spot where they dump their stash til things cool off.”

“Probably,” Jayson mused.

Wes didn’t comment, just dug his nails into his palms, but he knew the location was important. His gut told him it would lead them directly to the pirates.

“We’ll head straight there,” Brand announced. “Do some recon. Check out both islands and get the lay of the land.”

“It might make sense to split up then,” Xander suggested.

“Half the team goes to this island and the other half goes to that one,” Chaz said, stabbing his finger on each location. “What do you think, Brand?”

“I agree. Murph, Corey, Lex and Hawke, we’ll drop you guys off here. Jay, Chaz and I will go to the other island and scope it out. Report anything suspicious and we’ll be ready to back each other up as needed.”

“Roger that,” they all responded.

After gathering their gear, the team left the safehouse and returned to the faux fishing boat. Wes was so ready to find these assholes, he could barely sit still. The anticipation was killing him and it felt like he was about to jump out of his skin. He could sense the other guys’ gazes on him, feel their concern.

He should assure them he wouldn’t lose his shit and go all kamikaze. But he couldn’t make that promise. The only promise he could make was the one in his heart to Ellie—that he would decimate every last fucking pirate he could get his hands on.

After a twenty-minute ride, Jayson maneuvered the boat into a cove and dropped anchor. After lowering the Zodiac, they climbed down into it and got situated. They were geared up to the teeth and ready for anything.

Once the Zodiac hit the shore, Wes, Corey, Lex and Xander jumped out.

“Remember, recon only,” Brand reminded them. “If you find something or run into any trouble, radio us.”

Wes gave him a nod then turned to face the jungle. They’d memorized the landscape from maps and drone imagery and immediately turned south, heading down to the part of the island where the terrain became more rugged, dotted with cliffs and coves. Perfect pirate lairs.

Wes had never been a fan of humping through the jungle, but an excitement was building inside him and he pressed himself hard, moving faster than he probably should. Would he pay for it later? Absolutely. Did he care as long as it led to Ellie’s killers? Fuck no. Bring on the goddamn blisters, he had salve.

When they reached the far side of the tropical island, the group hunkered down behind a large cluster of jagged rocks. Wes looked out over the land ahead, mentally cataloging the layout—in particular, the cave openings and drop-offs. The last thing he wanted to do was stumble on the uneven ground and fall over the edge. He was also searching for the best potential hiding spots and zeroed in on a craggy opening. “There,” he said, pointing at the dark cave entrance.

“What’s so special about that one?” Xander asked, squinting.

“The opening is lower than the others,” Wes murmured. “Makes it undetectable from out on the water.”

“Exactly,” Corey agreed. “Plus, it probably gets dangerous when the tide rises. Fills up fast, I bet.”

“Perfect deterrent for the curious and a great place to temporarily stash some booty,” Lex concluded.

“Let’s find these assholes,” Wes grumbled.

The men moved forward in single file formation, low and fast. Corey guided them straight to the cave’s entrance and they split apart, half on one side of the yawning opening, half on the other. They waited a moment, listening, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Xander, you’re our lookout.” Corey glanced over at Wes and Lex. “Let’s check it out.”

Moving on pure adrenaline, Wes, Corey and Lex stalked forward while Xander stood guard at the entry, not looking happy at all, but whatever. Corey knew there was no way Wes was going to babysit the entrance, and he appreciated his friend’s silent vote of confidence.

Pulling their night vision goggles down, lifting their Glocks, the men walked into the darkness.

The cave was narrower than Wes anticipated and it was eerily quiet as they made their way deeper. No doubt about it—high tide would fill it up fast, drowning any poor, unfortunate soul stuck in there when it did. But high tide wasn’t for another hour, give or take. They were safe from a watery death. For the time being, anyway.

Wes hated the damn uneven, wet ground and slipped twice before they finally reached the back of the cave. But it was worth every pitted step when they stumbled onto a mini treasure trove of stolen goods.

“Yo ho ho,” Lex murmured, mouth edging up.