Covert Pursuit (8 page)

Jason’s breath caught in his throat as dread swamped him. “Oh, man. We’ve got to go.” He backed away from the edge and tugged on Angie. “Come on. Now.” He stuffed the camera back into the duffel. “I’ve got to call this in and get something going before we lose this opportunity. Once Mabuto gets back on his yacht and out to sea we’ll have lost him.”

Angie scrambled backward and handed him the
binoculars. “So Decker and the Corrindas are dealing in illegal weapons.”

“And blood diamonds.” Jason hefted the duffel over his shoulder and started back down the hill.

“Obviously the treasure story is just some sort of cover,” Angie said as she scrambled to keep up.

“Where does Picard fit into this?” Frustration at the lack of answers poured through Jason’s veins.

“Could there be two gunrunners working out of Loribel?”

“Maybe, but doesn’t seem likely.” His blood quickened. “Picard must be supplying Decker and the Corrindas with the weapons to resell.” If he could get Decker and the Corrindas he’d be that much closer to nabbing Picard.

“How quickly can a raid be organized?”

“Not sure. I—”

Something crashed through the bushes to their right. Had they been found?

Angie froze, her breath coming in little audible gasps. Bracing himself, Jason reached for the gun at his back.

A loud hissing sound raised the hairs on Jason’s arms. Panic gripped his gut. He knew that noise.

And a gun wouldn’t help with this problem.

From beneath the low-branched, thorny sweet acacia bushes, a big, black, five-foot-long alligator charged forward, spraying mud in all directions. A wide-open mouth revealed sharp, pointy teeth.

Even if he were lucky enough to hit the thing in the
brain—which was directly behind its eyes, beneath tough skin and thick skull bone—the gun blast would bring another kind of predator hunting.

“Go, go. Fast,” he urged, gesturing at Angie to move down the hill.

The alligaotr lunged. Jason shoved Angie away as he jumped back. Snapping jaws barely missed his leg. Angie lost her footing and tumbled down the hill on a startled squawk, the noise echoing off the boulders.

The commotion would have alerted the men in the cove to their presence. Not wanting to risk losing the camera and the evidence on it, Jason heaved the duffel into the bushes behind the alligator for retrieval at a later time. The beast hissed and snapped his powerful jaws, but thankfully stayed put.

Backing away, with his attention on the creature, Jason made his way farther down the hill to where Angie huddled behind a boulder. Mud covered her from head to toe and she clutched her ankle as if in pain. She must have twisted it on her descent.

“Can you stand?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced past him. “Is that thing coming?”

“I don’t think so, but we’ve got to go before Decker and his crew find us.” He positioned himself behind her and used his arm to hoist her up.

She tested her ability to stand by putting weight on her foot. A slight wince tightened the corners of her mouth. “Painful, but I can make it.”

Thunder rumbled overhead as Jason kept an arm
around her, steadying her as she hobbled the rest of the way down the hill to the sand. Just as they reached the beach, the Corrindas’ Bowrider loaded with gun-toting men rounded the jetty of rocks.

Jason’s heart stopped. There was no way they’d make it to his boat before the Corrindas’ men reached the dock. They were done for. He stopped and gripped Angie by the shoulders. “Listen, whatever happens, you take the first opportunity you can to escape.”

Angie’s eyes widened as his meaning sank in. She reached for her sidearm. “Call for backup.”

“There is no backup who can get here in time. We’re on our own.” He glanced over his shoulder at the speeding boat slicing through the water. “The best we can hope for is to convince them we don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “You think they’ll believe that?”

“I don’t know. But put that away.” Fear and anger at his stupidity twisted in his gut. He never should have brought Angie into this mess. He should have forced her to leave the island. Now, because he’d let her worm her way under his skin and into his operation, she was in danger. And he didn’t know if he could save her. Or himself.

The boat reached the dock and five men disembarked and charged down the beach toward them.

“Play up your injury,” he said to Angie.

It took a second before his words registered and then she collapsed onto the wet sand, grasping her ankle and moaning. Jason knelt beside her.

Sand and rain sprayed as the men halted, surrounding them at gunpoint.

Ramirez glared at them. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, man, am I glad to see you,” Jason said, hoping to throw them off guard by welcoming them. “We were on a nature hike and a big old alligator charged us. She took a spill down the hill.”

Several men shifted, their guns swinging outward and their gazes searching the area.

“I don’t see any gator,” Ramirez said, his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Come on. You can explain what you’re doing on private property to the boss.”

Jason frowned and feigned confusion. “I thought this was a public picnic area.” He pointed to the sign at the dock. “Loribel Parks and Recreation.”

“That hill is private property.”

“There aren’t any signs.” Jason pulled a face, letting his drawl deepen, which always made people underestimate his smarts. “There ought to be signage, don’t you think? I mean, how’s anyone to know? That’s just not right.”

Angie glanced at him, her gaze both amused and terrified.

Ramirez hesitated for a fraction of a second then shrugged. “Not my problem. Grab them and bring them to the boat. The boss wants them alive.”

As Ramirez’s men stomped forward. Angie reached for Jason’s hand and squeezed seconds before they were ripped apart.

He held her gaze, wishing he could tell her they would be all right, that they’d come through this unscathed. That maybe they had a chance.

He couldn’t say anything. But that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for Ramirez’s men. Five-to-one odds. He’d faced worse.

Using the guy on his right for leverage, Jason kicked the man on his left with his left foot, connecting with the man’s knee. The guy released his hold on Jason and buckled, going down hard on the sand. Jason head-butted the guy still holding him. The sound of cracking cartilage was muffled by the man’s scream.

Jason charged for the men holding Angie. The guy closest to Jason let go of her to raise his gun, but Jason was quicker. He grabbed the barrel of the assault rifle and gave a twisting yank, while his momentum carried him and the butt of the gun into the guy’s face.

Angie let out a strangled growl.

Jason whipped around, ready to attack the other two men. Terror stampeded across his brain.

Ramirez had Angie by the hair, her head yanked back and a gun pressed to her face. Blood gushed from the corner of her mouth. “One more move, and she’s dead.”

Angie had taken out the other guard—he was bent over in pain—but she hadn’t been quick enough to get to Ramirez before he got her. Jason held up his hands in a show of surrender.

His gut clenched. Their fates were out of his control. A prayer for help burst from his soul. The
words never left his mouth because he feared his prayer would go unanswered.

A blinding pain exploded in his head as the butt of an assault rifle rammed into his skull.

The world went black.

A
ngie tried to quell her anger and frustration so she could act submissive as her captor practically threw her onto the boat. She inched closer to the railing, wincing at the throbbing in her ankle and her face, and the deep ache in her heart. Jason lay too far away for her to tend to him. To see if he even breathed. Blood covered the back of his head where the guard had hit him.

She took small satisfaction in seeing the blood and bruises Jason had dished out to the men before Ramirez had put a stop to his frenzied fighting. She’d done her best to bring down the man who’d held her by ramming her elbow into his gut and then backhanding him with her fist. But she’d only managed a few painful steps in Ramirez’s direction before he’d punched her in the face and then shoved a gun to her temple.

Her lip hurt and the coppery taste of blood lingered in her mouth.
Please, Lord, let Jason be all right.

Awareness came in increments. First the pain. Dark and insidious, attempting to pull him under. He couldn’t pinpoint the origin. He fought to reach a conscious state, to open his eyes, to move, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

He was on a boat, that much he could tell.

The smell of the ocean, the feel of the waves beneath the hull, the roar of the motor reverberated through him.

He was lying facedown, his cheek resting on the hard wood of a deck. But not his boat. It didn’t sound, smell or feel right.

He focused, trying to remember what had happened.

A woman’s face floated through his mind’s eye.

Angie.

Memory came flooding in, searing his brain with more pain as he realized he’d failed. He’d vowed to keep her safe and he’d failed to protect her.

Shame and despair washed over him, threatening to overwhelm his senses. There was no use fighting the darkness. He was lost already.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, Detective Carlucci?” Decker stated, his unyielding expression holding derision and anger.

Angie twisted slightly to better see the chief, who stood alone inside the doorway of the small boat shed where she and Jason were now tied back-to-back
against the structure’s middle beam. She couldn’t see Jason but she could feel his shoulder blades touching hers. He hadn’t made a sound since they’d dragged them in here and bound them together. Her stomach churned with anxiety. How badly had they hurt him? Would there be permanent damage?

A snarky remark about dirty cops rose to tempt Angie’s tongue, but she swallowed the words back. It was one thing to verbally spar with the men in her family and another altogether to smart off to the man who held power over her life. And Jason’s. Instead, she said as calmly as possible, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Decker came forward and squatted down next to her. “You should have done as I told you. Now you’ll have to disappear for good.”

Fear slithered along her spine and tightened her shoulder muscles. “Too many people know I’m here. You’ll never get away with killing a police officer.”

Decker sneered and grabbed Jason by the hair, yanking his head back. “Two cops, no doubt.”

“Hey, I’m no cop,” Jason said in a slurred voice.

Concern arced through Angie. Did he have a concussion?

Decker rammed Jason’s head against the pole. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll both be fish food by morning.” He left, shutting the door of the shed firmly behind him.

“Jason. Jason, talk to me.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why’s the room spinning? How badly are you hurt?”

“Not as bad as you.” Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Angie squeezed them tight. “Oh, dear Father in Heaven, please, oh, please help us to get out of this.” She wiggled, trying to loosen the ropes. “I promise I won’t be so bullheaded and dogged anymore.”

A tear slipped down her cheek at the words her father always used. Would she ever see her family again? She squirmed more vigorously.

“I promise to go to church more regularly and to…to join the choir.”

More tears streamed from her eyes. Her mother was forever bugging her about joining the church choir, saying Angie had a great voice and she should be using her gift to glorify God. Angie wasn’t so sure her voice was as good as her mom professed. But her mom was her mom, and mothers were supposed to think their kids excelled even when they didn’t. Right? She missed her mother.

“Stop moving so much. You’re tightening the ropes, not to mention you’re wasting your breath.”

She stilled. The scoffing tone of Jason’s words was as jarring as the words themselves. She opened her eyes and turned her head in the direction his voice had come from. “No prayer is ever wasted.”

“Yeah, well, bargaining with God is a waste.” Bitterness dripped from his words, making her ache for him. “The Big Man upstairs doesn’t do deals.”

She dropped her chin to her chest. There was truth to his words. “You’re right. God doesn’t want my childish promises. I can’t manipulate Him like that. He only wants my trust and love.” More tears spilled from her eyes as calmness entered her soul. “Forgive me, Lord.”

Jason gave a scoffing laugh. “God lost my trust when He let Garrett die.”

“Why would you blame God for your friend’s death? God didn’t hold the gun, He didn’t pull the trigger.”

“But He’s supposed to be all powerful! He could have prevented it.”

The anguish in Jason’s voice brought a fresh wave of tears. Leaning her head back against the thick pole, she looked heavenward for help.
What would You have me say to him, Lord?

If Decker carried out his threat, these could be the last moments she and Jason had on earth. Her heart grieved to think Jason would die with this barrier of blame and anger between him and God.

How could she make Jason see that the evil in the world wasn’t God’s choice for humans?

The word
choice
played over in her mind, like a gentle whisper. It all came down to
choice
.

“Did Garrett know the danger when he went into that fight?” she asked in a soft voice.

She felt Jason stir. A long moment of silence followed before she heard a faint, “Yes.”

“Why did Garrett, or you, for that matter, go into a
situation where you knew there was a chance you could be killed?”

“It was our job,” came his harsh reply.

“Right. Your job. Your choice. You said Garrett was a believer. He chose to live his life for God, while upholding the law. He died in the line of duty and I believe, with everything in me, that Garrett is in Heaven now.”

“But why did he have to die?”

The question hung in the air.

“I don’t know. I only know that God was with him, just as He is with us now.”

“How can you be sure God’s here?”

She searched her heart, her mind for an answer. “Because I have peace knowing that I chose to trust and love Him regardless of my circumstances.”

“You’re a better person than I am.”

His words pained her. “No, I’m not. I have my moments of doubt and uncertainty. I’m afraid. And I’m angry. Angry at Decker and his men. Angry at Picard for taking your friend. Angry that I won’t be able to tell my family goodbye. But I chose to cling to God rather than push Him away.”

She wanted to see Jason, to look him in the eye, but no matter how much she twisted and contorted herself, all she could see was his profile in her peripheral vision.

Urgency bubbled in her soul and drove her words. “Listen to me, Jason. God loves you. He wants you to turn to Him, to open yourself to Him before it’s too late.”

The thought of Jason not reconnecting his life to God before he died wounded her deeply.

“It’s already too late. I’ve pushed God too far away,” Jason replied, his voice resigned.

“No! No, it’s never too late—”

The door to the shed burst open and three men filed in.

One of the men had a white bandage over his nose. Angie recognized him as the man with whom Jason had fought earlier. In his hands he held an AK-47. “Don’t try anything or I’ll blow your brains out,” he said.

“Come closer, and I’ll fix your nose for you,” Jason shot back.

The man moved closer. Angie’s breath stalled. Would he fulfill his threat? From the corner of her eye, she saw him raise the butt of the gun and then slam it into the side of Jason’s head. She heard a sickening thud, felt Jason rock to the side.

Fear made Angie’s mouth go dry. “Jason!”

“Is that the best you can do,” Jason said, his voice full of mocking antagonism.

“Shut up!” one of the other men snarled. He worked at untying the rope wrapped around their waists keeping them secured to the beam.

As soon as they were free of the wooden post, Angie was grabbed roughly and dragged out the door into the whipping wind and humid rain. A refreshing relief from the stale air of the storage shed tucked back beside the cliff. Dusk had fallen, turning the
shadowed cove into a scary pit straight from some gothic story. She tried to stand but her bound feet slipped and slid in the muddy earth. Her ankle screamed in agony. Jason was also being dragged by another man, but Jason wasn’t making it easy. He twisted and squirmed, trying to ram his already-wounded and bleeding head into his captor.

They were taken to the dock where the
Regina Lee
was now moored alongside the
Courir le Soleil.
Decker and one of the Corrinda twins—Edmund, she was pretty sure by the cold look in his eyes—stood waiting along with Mubato.

“See, I told you, nothing to worry about,” Decker said, his aged face holding a smirk.

“I will not rest until I know that this business is done,” Mabuto stated, his dark eyes on Angie. “There can be no witnesses, Picard.”

Angie’s shock stole her breath. Decker was Picard? No wonder ICE had such trouble tracking him down. Who’d have thought to look at the police chief of this little out-of-the-way island? Now his actions made so much sense. Were the Loribel Island deputies corrupt, as well? Had Picard poisoned them?

“You!” Jason’s shocked shout echoed over the sound of the wind whistling through the cove. He struggled against the hands restraining him, but with his feet and hands tied, he couldn’t break free.

Hoping to appeal to someone’s—anyone’s—sense of self-preservation, Angie yelled, “You’ll never get away with this. I’m a Boston homicide detective. Peo
ple will come looking for me.” She zeroed in on the Corrinda twin. “Edmund, you can’t let this happen. The authorities will come down on you so hard. Do you want that? Do you want to hurt your grandfather like that?”

“Shut her up before the family hears,” Edmund commanded. “Get them out of here. Now!”

So only this twin was in cahoots with Picard. Poor Horatio. She had a feeling this would devastate the elderly man.

Picard waved his hand as if he were swatting away an insect. Fury embedded itself in Angie’s belly. She lifted her gaze to the house on the cliff. Maybe someone there would hear her scream and offer help. She hoped so as she let loose with all the rage and fear and regret for all that she hadn’t accomplished in her life. Her scream rose on the wind. She prayed the sound carried to Horatio or his wife.

A fist slammed into her gut, effectively cutting off her air and her scream. Pain ricocheted through her body.

She was picked up and flung over the shoulder of a big muscular man. She bucked and wiggled in a vain attempt to get free, but his strong hold on her wouldn’t budge.

It took three men to carry a wildly resistant Jason to the
Regina Lee,
where they tossed him inside the cabin. He landed with a thud beneath the small dining table. The man holding Angie unceremoniously dumped her next to Jason. Her body bounced and her
head knocked against the padded seat bench. The cabin door was pulled shut and locked.

“We’re in luck,” Jason said. “I can work with being on my boat.”

“What are you talking about?”

He inchwormed his way out from beneath the table and over to the kitchenette. “We still have a fighting chance.”

All the despair and resignation to their fate Jason had been feeling evaporated, allowing hope and determination to rush in. The pounding in his head even seemed to abate a tad, making his thinking clearer.

Though he was still reeling from the revelation that Police Chief Decker was Picard. How had he missed that?

He turned so his back was to the vertical set of drawers. His fingers fumbled with the handle of the bottom drawer but he finally managed to grasp the lever and pull. The drawer slid open.

“You think luck put us back on your boat?”

He felt around inside for the box cutter he kept in the drawer. “Yeah, I do.”

“It isn’t luck that’s brought us here. I prayed God would get us out of this situation. He answered my prayer.”

“If it makes you feel better to believe that, go ahead,” Jason said, not willing to give God the benefit of the doubt.

Why would God want to save him?

Angie, he understood. She was good, all the way through. She believed with a kind of faith Jason couldn’t. Or could he?

He tried to ignore the deep yearning clawing its way to the surface. He wouldn’t be that naive again.

“It should make you feel better, too. God hasn’t abandoned us. He never would. Though how being trapped in here is any better than the shed, I’m not sure.”

Jason’s found the cutter. Turning his back so she could see his hands, he said, “This is why being here is so much better.”

She smiled, her bruised and bloodied face lighting up. “God is indeed good.”

Just then the
Regina Lee
’s engine fired up and the boat was in motion.

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Angie asked.

“Not sure. Somewhere they can kill us without it coming back to the Corrindas or Picard,” Jason replied as he concentrated on contorting his hands so that the cutter could reach the rope around his wrists. He nicked his wrist instead, the sting of the wound barely registering.

“Can I help?”

He scooted over to her and positioned himself at her back. “I’ll put the cutter into your hand. You hold it steady and I’ll saw my rope over it.”