Ultimate Escape Page 8

  “Umm, a little over a month ago,” Nola said.

  He looked shocked for a moment, assessing Nola with eyes that went unreadable.

  “You didn’t love him,” Cruz said after a moment, his voice brimming with certainty.

  “Maybe I thought I did once, but no, I didn’t. The feeling was mutual.”

  “He’s a fool,” Cruz said, and then he stood and moved to the window. He’d said the words with such conviction, Nola couldn’t help but believe him.

  About an hour later, Nola heard the low hum of an engine. Cruz perked, and after a quick peek out the window, he unlocked the door.

  Sam, Ace, and Saint filed in, and Nola realized that she was relieved to see all of them, even Saint, in good health.

  “Got you guys some stuff,” Sam said, heading straight to Cruz to hand him a black duffel. Then he walked over to Nola and handed her one as well.

  “Thanks, Sam,” she said.

  “Ma’am.” He nodded, clearly happy to see her.

  “Let’s get dressed, Nola,” Cruz said.

  She followed him into the bathroom, admiring how masculine he looked even in the fluffy terry cloth robe. He dressed quickly, his movements efficient, looking much as he had on the shuttle when she’d first seen him, save his wet hair. Nola also dressed quickly, and though the clothes weren’t a perfect fit, she was relieved to have them despite her self-consciousness at not wearing a bra.

  When they emerged from the bathroom, Sam had set up yet another computer that Ace and Saint were crowded around.

  “So any clue what our visitors were after?” Cruz said.

  Saint shrugged his huge shoulders. “Seems as though there’s been a slight misunderstanding.”

  He grabbed a folder and stalked toward Nola.

  “Is this the man who switched seats with you?” he asked, holding a picture in front of her face.

  Nola looked at the picture, searching for any similarity or familiarity.

  “Yes…?” she finally said.

  “Was that a question?” Saint barked.

  She spared a second to glare at him, something she couldn’t have imagined doing a week ago. Then she looked back at the picture. “It’s him. He was wearing sunglasses, but it’s him.”

  “What’s the story?” Cruz said.

  “Our Good Samaritan is a low-level diplomat with ties to organized crime who’s apparently looking to strike out on his own. He was carrying the drive for an HCMC syndicate and apparently his plan was to exchange it for seed money to fund his own operation. So the guys who were coming after you, Nola, worked for him. The ones who came after us work for the rightful owner of this information.”

  “Sounds complicated,” Nola said, though this time she sounded as nonchalant as the guys. She supposed she was getting used to it.

  “Not for us,” Cruz said. He turned to Saint. “So I assume if we get this information to its rightful owner, we can wash our hands of this?”

  “I’m impressed. Looks like I finally taught you something. About damn time,” Saint said.

  “Sam?” Ace said.

  “Yeah, I think I found the perfect location. Tell your contact to meet you here,” Sam said, and then he called out coordinates.

  “So once you make this exchange, this will be over?” Nola said, not wanting to get her hopes up, but feeling excited nonetheless.

  Cruz walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. “Yes.”

  16

  “Sorry you got stuck babysitting me,” Nola said.

  Cruz, Ace, and Saint had set out earlier, leaving Sam with strict instructions to keep his eye on Nola and the door.

  “No problem,” Sam said, stabbing at his keyboard like he always seemed to be. “I’m the resident den mother, so it’s nothing new.”

  Nola could have sworn she heard a sharp edge of bitterness in his voice, but he looked at her with the same easygoing smile he’d worn since the first time she’d seen him and most of the times after, so she dismissed it.

  “How long have you been doing this?” she asked, attempting to fill the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

  “Computer stuff?”

  “I’m sure it’s not just computer stuff,” Nola said.

  “It seems that way,” Sam said, and this time Nola didn’t miss the faint tinge of regret and bitterness in his tone.

  Something in his voice compelled her to go over to him.

  “I’ve been there,” she said when she stood beside him.

  Sam knit his brows together and stared at her. “Been where?”

  “You know, in that place where it feels like nobody appreciates you, like you don’t even matter.”

  The furrow deepened, and Sam sputtered. “I don’t… I’m not…”

  Nola smiled and then patted Sam’s long, thin hand.

  “You don’t have to say anything, but trust me, I can tell. Here’s some unsolicited advice. A good friend of mine used to tell me I needed to show people what I’m made of. The same is true for you. Show the guys how good you are, and they won’t have any choice but to respect you.”

  She patted his hand again, and for a moment, he sat still, looking at the spot where she’d touched him. Then he turned his eyes toward her, and the friendliness she’d seen there was gone, consumed by coldness.

  “I’m really glad you feel that way,” Sam said.

  Then he lifted a gun.

  ••••

  Cruz pressed the small receiver in his ear.

  “Is this feeling fishy to anybody?” he whispered softly.

  “Yep,” was Ace’s reply.

  Saint said nothing, but he didn’t need to. Like it had when he’d first glimpsed Nola, his sixth sense was screaming about how wrong this was. Sam had been insistent that this was the most likely location, but something was off. It was far too quiet, and far too deserted.

  “Change of plans. We need to go back and regroup, figure out what’s going on,” Cruz said.

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” Sam’s voice buzzed over the comm.

  Cruz pressed his comm and said, “Ace, did you hear that?”

  Silence was his response.

  His heart began to pound, and a tingling sensation came over him. Yeah, something was majorly wrong, and his first thought was that he needed to get to Nola.

  He turned and went back toward the Range Rover, using all of his discipline not to run. He needed to stay calm. For Nola.

  As he moved, Ace materialized from the semidarkness of the night, and a few steps later Saint did the same, all of the men moving with the same purpose.

  “Stop wasting your time,” Sam said over the comm.

  Cruz’s gut clenched at the cool distance in Sam’s voice. He’d never heard that particular tone from Sam, but Cruz knew it was a bad omen. He looked to Ace and then Saint and both men nodded that they’d heard.

  “I’ve moved her. And you’re not ever going to find us.”

  Cruz’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He’d known there was something wrong, but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Sam, what are you talking about?” he asked.

  “There’s been a change of plans. I’ve decided it’s time to take an early retirement, and you’re going to help me. Well, if Ms. Bailey’s health means anything to you, and I know it does, you will.”

  The man whom he’d almost counted a friend now sounded like a complete stranger, his voice icy cold, and worse, deadly sounding.

  “Sam, think about what you’re doing. This isn’t the way, man,” Cruz said.

  He was surprised that he managed to sound so calm, especially given how he felt. Cruz’s stomach twisted at the thought of Nola alone with him, at the realization that he’d left her at Sam’s mercy without a second thought.

  “Save it. You don’t have time for speeches, and I won’t be swayed,” Sam said, voice dripping with a certainty and power Cruz had never heard in it before.

  They reached the Range Rover but
Saint clapped him on the shoulder before he could touch the door. And he was right. Sam undoubtedly had trackers on the vehicle. They’d have to find another way.

  “You don’t have to take the car, but it doesn’t make a difference. You’re going to keep your comm on so I can keep tabs.”

  “Sam, what are you after? What are you really after?” Cruz said, that clench in his gut tightening to the point of being excruciating.

  “Why do you care? You never cared before.”

  He sounded bitter, almost like a scorned lover. “Sam, whatever it is, Nola doesn’t need to be involved. You said it yourself, she’s just a clueless tourist, so let her go and we’ll handle this, whatever it is.”

  “I did say that, but you didn’t listen. You never listen. None of you do. But you’re listening now,” Sam said.

  Cruz imagined himself knocking Sam’s teeth out, or worse, when he had the chance.

  “Sam, just tell me what you want,” he said, voice tight.

  “I want you to steal the tusks,” Sam said.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I already got the information off the jump drive, so I know where they are. You’re going to bring them to me if you want her back alive,” Sam said.

  “Even if I could, do you think whoever you’re stealing them from is just going to let you go?”

  “That’s my concern. You just get the tusks. I’ll be in touch.”

  The line went dead.

  Cruz took his comm out and only the fact that it was his last tenuous connection to Nola kept him from shattering it into a thousand pieces.

  He held it in his hand, though, and then looked over at Ace, who looked as murderous as Cruz felt. Saint was just his usual self, but Saint was always his usual self. But Cruz knew he would come along for the ride.

  “So what are we going to do?” Ace asked.

  There was only one answer.

  17

  When they reached the coordinates Sam had given them, they set up and reconned the site. They were deep in the jungle several hundred yards from the banks of the Saigon River. The setup wasn’t formal, just a collection of corrugated metal sheds and a makeshift dock. The type of location was pretty common for processing illegal goods, the river a perfect method for moving product.

  “Are we really about to steal seventy-five kilos of poached rhino tusks and turn them over to that piece of shit?” Ace asked.

  Cruz adjusted his binoculars. “Indeed we are.”

  “Just checking,” Ace said, looking through his own.

  Cruz would steal anything to save Nola from the danger he had put her in. That he’d been foolish, let down his guard, was bad enough, but he wouldn’t let her suffer for it. He’d do anything to save her, because he loved her.

  They watched the location, which had surprisingly lax security given the valuable cargo.

  About a dozen men milled about the site, a cache of weapons haphazardly stacked, loud voices and laughter ringing out in the air. But Cruz was focused on the speedboat that had been parked at the dock, and the neatly stacked pile of bricks that sat inside it.

  “So how are we going to get to it?” Ace asked.

  “I’m going to create a diversion,” Saint said.

  And then he lifted the shoulder-mounted grenade launcher and aimed it at a jeep that set off from the farthest shed.

  “Get into position. Deploying in thirty seconds,” Saint said.

  Cruz scrambled to the left, Ace to the right.

  In some ways, it was a simple game of capture the flag. Of course, this game had grenades and armed traffickers, but the fundamentals were the same.

  Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, Cruz counted in his head.

  Boom.

  The loud explosion sounded, and the vibration shook the metal sheds. Then the jeep exploded into orange-black flames. Cruz felt the heat but didn’t pay it any attention, the gunfire, the second grenade, the screams that now filled the air fading. He didn’t stop or even slow until he reached the boat. The man in the boat had his back turned, and after Cruz’s shot, he screamed and then collapsed. Cruz tossed him overboard and took over the tiller, waiting.

  Ace jumped in first, Saint two steps behind, and Cruz opened the motor. The boat lurched forward and then propelled, gliding through the muddy water. Bullets whizzed by, one far too close for comfort, and Cruz pressed the motor, hoping that it would hold. It sputtered and then kicked into a higher gear, sending them farther down the murky waterway, the voices and gunfire fading.

  But Cruz didn’t slow because now he needed to find Sam and save Nola.

  18

  “I assume all the chatter I’m hearing is about you getting my stuff?” Sam said.

  Nola didn’t hear the response, but Sam must have been satisfied, for an oily smile spread across his face. She wondered how she’d missed it before, the bitterness and anger that now marred his formerly friendly features. No answers were forthcoming, but as she watched him typing away, a wave of pity washed over her.

  This was going to end badly for him, and he didn’t even realize it yet.

  Cruz had gotten her through so much already that she didn’t have a shred of doubt. She didn’t know what he would do, but he’d proven his mettle, had saved her more than once, shown that he was a person she could rely on. She trusted him with every fiber of her being.

  Herself too. Somewhere along the way as she’d dodged bullets, traipsed through the jungle, fallen in love, she’d learned to trust herself. She’d proven herself strong, and she would get through this.

  “It’s showtime,” Sam said.

  ••••

  Cruz breathed in and out, focused on keeping his breathing easy, his mind calm.

  They’d gotten off the river and transported the tusks; all that was left was the exchange. He’d soon have Nola back, and would finally be able to deliver on his promise to get her home safe. And see that the scumbag Sam got what he had coming to him.

  “I have eyes on,” Ace said.

  Cruz stood next to the Ranger Rover, ready, waiting as Sam emerged from the quiet. He’d directed them to a small market that was mostly a tourist attraction and stood deserted at this time of night.

  He met Nola’s wide eyes, and his heart soared at his first glimpse of her. She was afraid, the gun Sam had pointed at her head assured that, but she wasn’t terrified. She trusted him, and he would see her faith was not betrayed.

  “You got it?”

  Sam’s voice set off a wild inferno of rage in his blood, but he focused on maintaining calm.

  “In the car just like you said,” Cruz replied.

  Sam’s wolfish grin only enraged Cruz further, but he kept it together.

  “Good. Sorry, Nola,” Sam said, “but I’m going to have to borrow you for a little bit longer.”

  “That wasn’t the deal, Sam,” Cruz said.

  “Maybe not, but I know Ace has a rifle trained on me as we speak,” Sam replied.

  “Nope, I’m right here,” Ace said, emerging from the Range Rover.

  “And Saint?” Sam said.

  “Who knows? But I’m here and I have your tusks. You’re welcome to them and the car. Just let Nola go,” Cruz said.

  Sam paused, thinking, but then shook his head. Cruz knew if he let Nola get into that car, he’d never see her again and she’d meet a fate he didn’t even want to contemplate. That wasn’t going to happen. Not as long as he still drew breath.

  “No deal. Sorry, but we have to go.”

  Sam tightened his hold on Nola and pulled her closer.

  “I can’t let you do that,” Cruz said, slowly reaching for the gun strapped to his hip.

  “Your days of letting me do anything are over, Cruz,” Sam said, his face contorted with disgust.

  Then Sam took one shuffling step after another, moving him and Nola closer to the Range Rover.

  “Stay where you are, Cruz!” Sam barked.

  “I told you I can�
��t let you go,” Cruz said as he lifted the gun and rested his finger on the trigger. A calm stole over him. It would be a tough shot, but he knew he wouldn’t miss.

  He kept his eyes trained on Sam, but saw Nola from his periphery. She heaved a deep breath and then let out an earsplitting scream. Cruz flinched, and Sam did too. Sam lowered his gun and Nola took the advantage. Cruz watched in fascinated horror as Nola lifted her booted foot and brought it down hard on Sam’s toes.

  Sam tilted his head and looked at Nola, confusion on his face. She stared back, mouth gaping. Time seemed to slow, and Cruz lifted his gun, prepared to take the shot.

  “Dung lai!”

  The command to halt rang out, and a swarm of machine-gun-toting soldiers flooded into the market, closing around them in a tight circle. Sam dropped his gun and raised his hands. Nola, smart woman that she was, scurried away from Sam toward Cruz.

  She launched herself at him, and Cruz wrapped his arms around her and held her as tight as he could. When she buried her face in his neck, he squeezed her even tighter, kissing her head, anxious to touch as much of her as he could.

  “Wait!”

  Sam’s cries caught his attention, and Cruz watched as Saint walked from the congregated soldiers and clamped a huge hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam shrieked and Cruz saw the beads of sweat pop out on his forehead. Sam wavered and slumped as Saint tightened his hold.

  “Don’t go to sleep on me yet, sweetheart. You like my work, don’t you?” Saint asked, tightening his hold even more.

  Sam nodded, eyes round with terror, skin ashen yet clammy with sweat, and Saint gave him the most genuine smile Cruz had ever seen from him.

  “Good. You’re about to experience it firsthand.”

  With that, he led Sam toward a waiting jeep, and the soldiers filed out of the market, disappearing as quickly as they’d appeared.

  Nola watched as the receding taillights got smaller and smaller and then she looked to Cruz.

  “Is he…?”

  “Going to kill him?” Cruz finished.

  She nodded and swallowed.

  “With Saint you never know, but I don’t think so, though Sam will probably wish he had.”