Shooting the SEAL (Saving the SEALs Series Book 1) Page 9

  Breathing heavily, she tried to turn away. He pulled his touch from her and stood.

  She grabbed her shirt and held it together over herself.

  He bent down again. “Make this easy for us both. Please. Where’s the file Coran Williams gave you? I am quite certain by now that Williams isn’t lying about giving you that file. Which means you have what I need. That puts you in a very bad situation. Now—where is the file?”

  Shaking, Anna whispered, “I don’t know.”

  He let her go and stood. “I’ll give you a little time to think about it. Not much, just enough that you can figure out where it is before I come back. Because next time, I won’t be so kind.” He walked out of the room and shut the door.

  Anna curled up into a tight ball. File—what file? The only files Coran ever gave her were the books to read.

  The books.

  She thought about the extra book that had been on her tablet—the book that hadn’t read like it was anything other than aimless wandering. Was that the file this guy wanted? Had Coran Williams pulled her into this by downloading that book onto her tablet? Here she’d been blaming Gage, thinking somehow this was connected with him, but he’d been trying to look out for her. Instead, her own boss had pulled her into this.

  But what now? Should she tell this guy about the file on her tablet? How did that help? She’d lost her tablet along with her purse back it the alley outside her building. What if she told them that she could take them to it? Would they believe her? She’d always been a terrible liar, but maybe she could make this story stick.

  Or maybe they’d just kill her.

  Pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders, she tried to think it was a good sign that they’d given her food. She also tried to hang onto the idea that Gage was coming for her.

  ***

  “Think we should call Commander Brighton?” Scotty asked. He was in back with Spencer. Gage was up front with Kyle, driving. They’d left their fake cop in the trunk.

  Gage pulled out his phone. They were following the directions the fake cop had given them, but it was taking way too long. He wanted to be there now. He kept thinking about Anna—she hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t trained for it, and didn’t deserve it.

  “And say what?” he asked. He knew he sounded tense and clipped. He tried to even out his tone and his temper. “We’ve got a fake cop who is also ex-Navy in the trunk of our car and we’re chasing a ghost who kidnapped a girl?”

  Kyle gave a snort. “Brighton would have to turn us all in. No, leave him out of it. But what’s the chance that someone did survive that mess in Borneo? Becks maybe?”

  Spencer shook his head. “Hey, we’ve all come out of stuff folks thought should have killed us. But maybe it’s someone in Becks’ family out to make up for his death?”

  “Why pull Anna into that? And what’s the connection to her boss and his company?” Gage frowned. “I don’t like any of this.” He pulled up his messages and frowned at two of them. “Guys—I think Anna got a message out.” A couple of thumps from the trunk interrupted. Gage ignored them. He showed his phone to Spencer and then to Scotty—Kyle was driving.

  Spencer shook his head. “What the hell does she mean follow? Like on Facebook? Track her phone’s GPS? What are we—spies?”

  Scotty was already pulling out his smartphone. He nudged Spencer’s arm. “Dope. Yeah, like Facebook. There’s an app that tracks you. We just have to follow her—meaning friend her—and see where it shows her.”

  Turning around in the passenger seat, Spencer stared at Scotty. “Since when did you get to be so smart?”

  “My momma didn’t raise no idiot,” Scotty said. “And some of us pay attention to tech. Dammit, my battery’s low. Anyone got a charger?”

  Gage gestured to Anna’s purse, sitting neglected in the back seat. “Try Anna’s tablet instead. You should be able to get a Wi-Fi connection somewhere—we’re not that far out of town yet. You can also log into her Facebook.”

  Turning it on, Scotty swiped across the screen as the home page came up. “It’s asking for a password.”

  “Try Romeo,” Gage told him. “It’s the name of her cat.”

  “That worked. And, man, this girl reads. Books, books, books.” Scotty shook his head. He got a connection and pulled up Facebook. “She also needs some better security—she left everything logged in.”

  “Not all of us are paranoid,” Kyle muttered.

  “Yeah, well that got her kidnapped, too. So far, not seeing…here it is. Bingo. Got it. And we’re on track. I’ve got an address—last known spot for her. Hell, if this doesn’t make someone easy to grab.”

  “Rescue mission, remember,” Gage said. “Save the ideas for one of our ops for later.”

  “Make a left here,” Scotty told him. “Hey, Gage, lend me your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to look up info on this address. You could make life easier on a guy, you know. Ah, here we go. Seems the place has been in the Monroe family for a few generations. And if we look into that—yeah, what I thought, you dig enough you get dirt. Monroe happens to be the family name of a woman whose daughter married a guy named Becks, who had a son who went into the SEALs. God, I love the Internet. So we’ve got our connection to the team that went down in Borneo. Only I’m thinking now that Becks didn’t die with the rest of his guys.”

  Spencer looked up from craning over Scotty’s shoulder. “How does any of this tie in with Nick’s death?”

  Gage pulled out his weapon to check the clip. “We find Anna, we might find some answers.”

  An hour later, Scotty leaned forward. “Slow down. The place is quarter mile away now.”

  Kyle pulled over in a group of trees. They had steadily left civilization behind. The road had gone from highway to two-lane and then to gravel. City changed to suburbs, which turned into rural and then into emptiness. Gage hadn’t known there was still this much open land in Virginia.

  The thumping in the trunk had died down—meaning the fake cop had worn himself out. Gage tapped on the hood, got a kick back, so the guy was still alive.

  Gathering around Scotty with the others, Gage asked, “What’s the terrain?”

  Scotty pointed to the tablet. “We’re here. Anna’s last location is here.”

  “If she’s not there now?” Kyle asked. Gage shot him a look, and he spread his hands. “You know we need a plan.”

  “If she’s not here, we find whoever is and beat the crap out of him until we know where she is now,” Gage said.

  Kyle nodded. “Works for me.”

  Gage turned to Scotty. “What else do we have?”

  Scotty shrugged. “It’ll be an old house—means a lot of ways in and out. Google Maps gives a satellite view that shows it’s pretty open at the front, but we have woods close to the back. Good cover. The rest we’ll have to find out.”

  Gage nodded and turned to Kyle. It was habit. Kyle was ranking officer, and they were still a team. Kyle stared back at them, eyes bloodshot, face still ragged with grief. But he did what he needed to do—Gage saw him button it up, rub a hand over his face. He gave a nod. “Check your weapons. Single file in.”

  They headed through the woods and around the back. Gage followed Kyle, itching to pick up the pace, but they had to do this slow and easy. Hang on, Anna, hang on. He kept thinking that, willing her to still be alive, to still be coping. After this, she’d probably want nothing to do with a guy like him, but he could live with that so long as she was alive and well.

  A steep incline led them to a rock outcropping. Kyle waved Scotty forward, and Scotty gave the all clear. He also pointed down.

  A rusted, metal door had been set into the rock. The lock on the latch was new. They all stared at it. “What the hell?” Kyle muttered, leaning down.

  “Edge of the Underground Railroad around here,” Spencer said. “During the Civil War, and before, slaves would run away, and a lot of abolitionists would help them escape to the North. L
ot of folks needed hiding places—or quick ways in and out of houses.”

  Kyle straightened. “Think this goes anywhere?”

  Gage glanced over to the roof of the house, just visible now behind a thicket of pine. “Only one way to find out.” He leaned down, pulled out a hunting knife.

  “You’re going to pick a lock with that?” Scotty said.

  Gage offered a grin. “Hell, no.” He slipped the blade—Damascus steel—under the latch and popped the rusted screws out. “Lock’s new, but that latch wasn’t.” Spencer pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on. A ladder that looked more rusted than the lid led into darkness. Cobwebs clung to brick walls.

  “Probably snakes, too,” Scotty muttered.

  Sitting down, Gage threw his legs into the opening, tested a rung and started down. One rung broke under his weight, but he gripped onto the sides of the rusted railing. He made it to bottom and glanced up to daylight and their heads leaning. He gave a thumbs up, flicked on his own flashlight.

  When everyone was down, Gage gestured down a tight corridor. “Looks one way. Not sure the timbers will hold. Lot of rot.” He flashed his light to the roof of the tunnel. Ancient beams held the roof of what seemed to be an earthen tunnel—the walls crumbled and roots had grown into the space.

  Moving carefully, Gage headed forward, Kyle followed him with Scotty, and Spencer fell in at their six. Spencer dropped his voice low. “Hard to believe anyone using this to escape anything.”

  Scotty shone his light on empty beer cans. “You can bet the local kids were using this place—until someone stuck a new lock on it.”

  Kyle glanced at them. “Put a lid on it. Keep an eye out for traps.”

  The tunnel ended in another ladder. There was no way to go but up, and no way to know what was waiting on the other side. Kyle motioned for Gage to go first, which was fine with Gage.

  He headed up the ladder, and hoped like hell whatever was covering it on the top wasn’t locked. It wasn’t—but something was holding it down. Pocketing his flashlight and tucking his weapon into his belt, Gage braced himself and started to push. Sweat trickled down his back and dust drifted into his eyes. He kept thinking about Anna—he had to get to her. At last the weight shifted. Gage pushed hard and the trapdoor opened.

  Climbing up, Gage glanced around—nothing but darkness. He flicked on his flashlight.

  The room felt like a cellar—damp and cold. It smelled of mold and stale air. Gage shone his flashlight into down into the tunnel, flicked it on and off twice. The signal all was clear.

  He turned and headed for the stairs and the doorway—and whatever lay beyond. Hopefully, Anna was still here, and still alive.

  Chapter 14

  She needed a plan.

  Anna sat with her back against the wall and tried to think. She was tired, dirty, sore, confused, angry, and she just wanted to go home. That wouldn’t happen if she wasn’t smart.

  So what should she do? Play dumb? The man who had been in here hadn’t seemed the type who would buy lies easily.

  “You aren’t helping yourself,” she said aloud. She scrubbed at the dirt and dried tears on her face. She needed a plan. She needed to make this work for her.

  All too soon it seemed, the door opened and the man with the scarred face walked in. He left the door open behind him and brought in a lantern with him this time—a camping lantern, but the solar/electric kind. The bright light hurt her eyes. She stood, pulling her blanket up with her and putting up a hand to shield her face. The man came over and stood in front of her. “Now, about that file?”

  She tipped her head to the side. She let her arm down so her blanket dragged at her side. “You’re Becks? Right? I heard Coran say your name. But, don’t worry, I don’t care what you’ve done with Coran.” That wasn’t true, but she’d decided if she lied a lot, this guy wouldn’t know what was true. “How much is that file worth to you? I mean it’s got to be worth a lot, right? I mean, to you.”

  His face remained immobile, but even in the dim light she thought she saw his eyes sharpen. “It might be worth your life.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “No, I mean money. Look, I’ve never been paid crap at my job. And this…this file sounds like it’s worth something. So, I figure why don’t we cut a deal. If I had enough, I’ve always thought the Bahamas sounded like a great place to live.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Live is the operative word here. If you don’t tell me—”

  “Lavender Lille,” Anna whispered.

  The man lifted his head. “What’s that?”

  “Lavender Lille…it’s a book. I thought, well, that doesn’t matter what I thought about the writing. It’s a book that doesn’t make sense. A file on my tablet.”

  “Well, now we’re getting somewhere.” He stared down at her. “Tell me what you read.”

  She shook her head. “My memory’s not that good. Something about Florida? And ghosts. I can’t remember all of it.”

  “Where’s your tablet now?”

  Anna licked her lips. If she told him she’d left it in her purse, would he just go after it? “I…I left it with a friend. She was hurt at the explosion at work, and I thought she’d like something to read. She was going into rehab.”

  Becks lifted his hand and hit her across the face. Crying out, she held her cheek as she stared at him. He shook his head. “You didn’t visit the hospital.”

  “Hitting me isn’t going to get you anything,” she told him as she rubbed her cheek. “And you may have had someone following me, but haven’t you ever heard of messenger services? They go in and out of our offices all the time. I can get you want you want—but only if we have a deal.”

  He reached out, grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her to her feet. He smelled like antiseptic. “I’m getting tired of games.”

  Clutching at his wrist with one hand and holding her blanket with the other, Anna shook her head. “You hurt me, you get nothing. Nothing!”

  He swept his gaze down her body. “We’re a lot alike, you and I. We’re both…damaged.”

  She twisted out of his grip. She heard cloth tear. She backed up until she hit the wall. A shot echoed and Becks turned. Grabbing her blanket, she threw it over his head. He fought at it, but Anna slipped past him and out the door he’d left open.

  She ran blindly, looking for open doorways, for escape. She had no idea who’d fired that shot, but she had to get out of here. Something snagged her wrist, and she brought up a fist, but Gage pulled her to him. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

  ***

  Gage held Anna. She sagged against him. “He’s back there.” She pointed down a hallway. The house they’d come up in was a maze of rooms and halls. So far, they’d spotted one guard who’d shot at them. Scotty had taken the guy down. Now, Gage glanced around. They’d fanned out, and he had no idea where the others were. His job now was simple—keep Anna safe.

  He pulled her with him, but she braced herself against his tug. “No, you don’t understand, he’s back there.”

  “Who is?”

  “Becks. The guy who paid someone to kidnap me. And I heard him with Coran. Coran’s in trouble.”

  Gage was tempted to say ‘so what’. As far as he could tell, Coran Williams had gotten Anna into this, meaning the old man was not on the side of the angels. However, if Anna was putting on the brakes about getting out of here, then maybe getting Coran out would help convince her she had to go.

  He put Anna behind him, and put a finger to his lips. Slowly, he eased down the narrow hall. Three doors opened, all of them to the right. He kicked open every door, and found no one. Anna wouldn’t look into the third room—the one with the mattress and a pack of MREs in a box. Gage was going to go for that being the one she’d been held in. It had no windows, and only the one door. Great place to lock up someone. Judging by this house, Becks’ family had all been weird.

  Taking Anna with him, Gage poked into two more rooms—no Coran. But he started to smell smok
e.

  “That’s it, we’re getting out.” He threw Anna over his shoulder and carried her out. The smoke was starting to coil now, gathering at the ceiling and thickening. Gage stumbled, half blind, choking on it. He knew he should get down on his knees, get below the smoke, and Anna’s pounding on his back finally convinced him to put her on her feet.

  They both dropped and crawled toward fresh air.

  They came out on a back porch, coughing. Gage stood and picked up Anna to carry her a safe distance from the house. He could see orange flames licking out of a downstairs window. “Kyle! Scotty…Spence!” He shouted their names.

  The guys stumbled out from all directions—Scotty coming out of an upstairs window and down a drainpipe that barely held his weight. Soot streaked his face. Gage glanced at Anna. “We can’t stay. The fire department will be here soon. Can you move?”