“Be yourself, Ky, that’s all I ever want for you. To be happy with yourself.”
‘Happy with yourself’
. She’d never understood her dad’s words that last day. Never really thought about happiness or what she wanted until she’d discovered what she didn’t want—to be part of her dad’s work. She’d ended that part of her life, and until now, she’d not known what more she’d wanted. Until now. She wanted out of here, safe, and she wanted her father free as well. She had too much to tell him, to explain, for him to be gone so quickly from this world.
She wanted a life. A life with a man who cared for her, liked her for who she was, and thought she was the best thing in the world. Like Daren Scott seemed to. She wouldn’t believe him dead. He’d just entered her life, but he’d dug in and made visions of something more than she’d ever had come into focus. A family—a real, there every night, picket fence, dream family.
She clung to her desperate thoughts, too shaken to do more than stare at the man sitting so calmly across from her.
After several silent moments of giving her a minor heart attack, he finally gave her a thoughtful, intrigued frown. She tried her hardest not to move, too afraid if she did something now, she might make him gesture to the drill-holding monster at his side. Her fingers were numb from how tightly they’d taped her hands down. The chair was too big, but they’d tied her to it with ropes across her chest so her feet hung off the ground. The lack of movement caused her toes to go numb and she knew, even if by some miracle she suddenly got free, she’d probably have to crawl out of here until her feet could work again.
“Does this mean you, too, are familiar with the experimental drugs your father has created?”
She froze in the process of adjusting her butt on the hard chair. What had Tazz said? If her father were alive, no one would need her.
“Yes—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I think we won’t need this any longer, will we?”
Her body went limp with relief, but the trembling worsened.
He said something to the other man, who immediately bowed and left the room.
“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling as if she couldn’t catch her breath because someone had loaded a ton of bricks on her chest.
The door opened and two men came in, immediately untying her chest and cutting the tape off her wrists with quick, confident efficiency.
“I think I have all I need,” Mohammad said, standing. “You.”
“What? What do you mean?” she demanded, rubbing the sticky tape off her wrists. One of the men handed her a warm towel from a silver bowl. She rubbed it over her skin and narrowed her eyes as the tape residue disappeared.
How many people had they done this to that they knew how to remove the stuff?
“You can aid my brother. Save his life, and I won’t need your father.”
“But I can’t help you. I have to save my father’s life,” she managed past the rising pressure threatening to choke her.
Think, Ky, think
.
“Ah, but I think you can.” Mohammad turned from where he’d moved to the open doorway. His expression was so fierce her throat tightened painfully. “I know you can, Ms Chung. The alternatives will not be pleasant, I assure you.”
No matter what she did, she knew leaving here would only make things worse. If they took her somewhere else, no one would ever find her. At least here, she knew she couldn’t be far from Dare. She knew he couldn’t be dead. It couldn’t end like that for them, could it?
But it could. She had to stay here, in Japan. She knew it in her bones. By the cool, unfeeling look in Mohammad’s eyes, her time here, possibly living, was limited
Chapter Eleven
“We go in through the bottom. The surveillance shows there is more activity on the upper floors.”
“What’s the deal on this being terrorists?” Dare demanded. They’d made good time, and better, they’d not been spotted, but their luck would be limited once they went inside. If they could nab Kylie right off, they might be able to call in a strike, confuse the men on the ground and get out safely. If they couldn’t find Kylie quickly enough, the longer they were inside enemy territory, the more chance things would get screwed up.
Tazz hunkered down behind the bush they were using as cover. “The intel suggests a Palestinian group, working independently here to gain money. Why they have her, and what they hoped to gain is still unknown, but they were the bombers.”
“So the terrorist theme Stevens was pushing?”
Tazz shot him an odd smile. “Got to keep America safe, man. You know that.”
Dare grunted. “And Kylie. We keep Kylie safe.”
Tazz nodded, narrowing his eyes before he turned back to surveying the area. “She’s the one, huh?”
The too casual way Tazz asked that question hit Dare in the chest. If there was one thing the two of them had in common, it was neither had felt adding a woman and a family to their lives was a good idea. Now, Dare felt differently. But he wondered if Tazz ever would. With the drugs and his ties to the Sentinels, he may never have what some men considered a normal life. He suddenly hoped he was wrong. Hoped his buddy found the girl that would make this whole damn world make sense.
“She’s the one.”
“Knew you’d have to eat your words someday, bro.”
Dare laughed softly. “Now is not the time to tell me so, buddy.”
Tazz met his eyes again, this time with a serious look. “I never doubted you’d find yourself eating that bullshit that it’s better to have more women than wake up to one. I just hope you know what you’re doing, Dare. She’s dangerous.”
“Fuck that, she’s not dangerous.”
“You’re not listening are you? She’s dangerous and she’s
in
danger. Why? Because they’ve fucked with things they shouldn’t have—playing God is dangerous, especially when stronger, more powerful people can take you or what you’ve made and kill you to keep it for themselves. Got it?”
Dare understood Tazz’s logic, but he didn’t entirely agree. Kylie wasn’t out to play god. She wasn’t after fame, she wasn’t after fortune and by the look of her dad’s life so far, neither was he. They were scientists, sure, but that didn’t equate to being wrong. Morally or otherwise. He’d heard the sincerity in her voice. He’d watched her when she’d spoken of what her father had tried to do, while Tazz had refused to even look at her. He knew Tazz, knew his buddy was pissed off by what they’d done to him, and he had a right to that anger. But he also knew that the hothead had to cool down before he could see things from all angles. Maybe getting off the drug would help him with that, but maybe it never would, he thought, and sighed. “Look, I got it. You have an opinion on this and damn, man, you have a right to being pissed, but you’re not seeing Kylie like I do—”
“You mean I don’t want to fuck her—”
He reached out and yanked on Tazz’s shirt, barely moving him, but he got right in his face all the same. “I’m warning you to stop that shit. Now. Kylie is not up for discussion. She’s in there, and we need to get her out. If you’re going to be a dick, you can stay here and do whatever your superman powers tell your thick headed Texan ass to do.”
Tazz shoved him off and looked away for a full minute before he swung his head and nodded. “We go in on the ground floor and work our way up.”
“Right, we go in and work our way up,” he repeated. He let his anger die down and tried to concentrate on the plan.
It was simple. With just the two of them, it might even work. If they kept gunfire silent, and only killed if they absolutely needed to. The snipers on the rooftops were reassuring, but unless they could distinguish who they were shooting at, he’d rather they were silent.
“Let’s go on my count then. Set your watch and if we break, we meet up no matter what at twenty-four hundred at the safe house.”
“Got it.”
“We leave on my three. Understood?” Tazz asked, standing up from his crouch. “Turn your com on, but we go in silent.”
Dare adjusted his com link then moved in behind Tazz.
Tazz held up a fist, displayed three fingers then rapidly counted down.
Tazz took the open area at a fast run, rifle out and ready. Dare followed suit. They reached a door at the corner of the building without setting off any alarms. No one stood guard outside, and Tazz used his palm to slash the air indicating there was no one present after glancing in the door’s vertical window.
Dare surveyed their rear, seeing no one. He turned his attention back to Tazz in time to see him open the door and head in. Dare followed, keeping an eye on their back and front while Tazz carefully eased them inside. The door shut softly before Dare followed Tazz down the dimly lit open area and into what looked like a chop shop. Car parts, trucks up on jacks and mechanic equipment cluttered the area. Six cars were parked on their left, lined up like they were on display. Each one had dark glass and wore the flashy black paint jobs the wealthy preferred.
There was a layer of dust on the cars, though, and when he traced a finger over a hood, he pulled it away to see he’d left a long line. Tazz watched and nodded to move out. Dare spotted a door on the opposite side of the warehouse from them and they headed through the car lifts to reach it.
Tazz pulled the door open slowly and turned back to indicate they needed night goggles. Dare pulled his on and they started moving.
His chest was feeling tighter, not from the damage of the blast but from the weight of worry he was struggling against. Each step they took brought him closer to Kylie. The thought made his anxiety increase. She could have been tortured by these men. Raped. Worse, she could be dead already. If she could just hold on, be the fierce woman who told off two of the Navy’s toughest men, then she might make it through this. But if she gave up, refused to do whatever they wanted and sank into that person who didn’t see the point of living—he feared he’d find her dead.
He ignored the worry. A man had to focus on the here and now. He knew that. Ace, one of the best commanders he’d ever served under, had always told them to get their shit packed and put away before they stood in front of him ready for a mission. Worries got a man killed. Any kind of distraction could get a guy killed.
Then stop worrying, man
.
Shit.
She had him talking to himself, he thought with another painful blow to the chest. The slow, careful pace Tazz maintained added to his misery. It chafed when all he wanted was to find Kylie and put this all behind them as quickly as possible.
Behind the door revealed a set of stairs, which thankfully they took quickly finding no cameras or men anywhere. By the fifth floor, he was fairly certain whoever held her had no clue what the hell they were doing.
Tazz stopped and pointed to the top of the next flight of stairs. Dare squeezed his shoulder and checked on the way they had come before joining Tazz up by the door.
Dare waited while Tazz listened then slowly eased it open and signaled the go ahead. They both entered a dark hallway. Halfway down it and off to the right, music filtered around them. Ten feet later, they heard men speaking in Arabic. The voices drifted up from the hallway. He tapped Tazz’s right shoulder and they turned that direction. Nothing was heard behind them, no guards were stationed anywhere that he’d noticed so far. It was almost as if the men here were so comfortable they didn’t think to post them.
At an intersecting hallway, Tazz held up a fist and they both stopped. A gesture to their left and Dare gripped Tazz on the shoulder again for the go ahead. They both silently entered another hall and stopped at the same time.
Another voice carried to them, vibrating off the empty walls.
Kylie.
And she sounded pissed off.
His heart did a god-awful lurch in his chest like he’d taken a hit there, then eased off, but his damn legs turned to wet noodles. He placed a hand on the wall to steady himself and shook his head. She was going to get him killed, he thought with a sudden grin. His beaten up face hurt when he did, but he couldn’t help it. She was alive.
Tazz gave him a curious look, but shook his head when he saw the grin. “Right, now to get her out safely.”
Her volume turned up a notch and his grin disappeared. Kylie was a feisty woman, but he’d never heard her raise her voice. Not that he’d known her for long, but his impression was she didn’t stand up to many people. She did, but on the sly, like with the drug, he’d bet. She said something else sharp sounding and he nudged Tazz in the back.
“Move. That can’t be good,” he muttered, hearing her voice grow more insistent.
A door opened and a well-dressed Arab ushered Kylie into the hall. Tazz froze with his gun at shoulder level but there wasn’t a chance he’d take the shot. Dare cursed silently but realized quickly that the Arab’s concentration was on her, and not on the two of them.
“I can’t go with you. You don’t understand, I have to get to my father before it’s too—”
Whatever else she said, he lost.
Tazz shouldered his rifle and they took the hallway at a fast crouched-down run. Tazz hit the Arab and tackled him. A second later, Dare grabbed Kylie and covered her mouth just as she opened it to scream.
He pulled the night vision goggles off, in case she couldn’t recognize him. “Ky, baby, it’s me.”
Her eyes grew rounder at the sound of his voice. He released her mouth and she blinked up at him. “You? You’re…you are—”
“It’s me, baby. Daren,” he said, thinking she’d gotten hurt worse than he’d imagined.
She gasped and dug her fingers into his forearms. “Daren, but you’re…oh, what happened to you? How could you be…?”
“Baby, we can play catch up later.”
By the shocked look on her face, she’d finally remembered who he was. That could be good, or bad. He’d been one messed up man in the desert, so cut up and bruised he’d barely recognized his own reflection in a mirror days later. If he looked that bad, he was probably scaring her. He propelled her down the hall and shut out his worries about what she thought of him, and concentrated on getting them free and clear. As soon as they reached the end of the corridor, he pulled her to a halt with a hand on her arm. She stopped, but she also opened her mouth to talk.