Saved by a SEAL (Hot SEALs Book 2) (12 page)

CHAPTER 15

It was
already dark when Zane pulled into a spot and parked. Though to be fair it wasn’t that late. It was just February, when the sun still set too damned early for his liking. But the days were lengthening with every passing square on the calendar.

All that did was remind him the time for him to either reenlist or get out was growing near, and they still had no financing for GAPS.

He was coming to the realization that their dream would remain just that. An unfulfilled dream.

Even if Zane did go back and groveled to his father, it wouldn’t do any good. Not if the
old man stuck to his original conditions for the loan. Zane wasn’t going to take advantage of Missy like that, and wouldn’t be able to anyway, even if he were willing to. After that phone call, which Jon had pointed out had been harsh, she probably hated him.

How he’d handled that situation was one of Zane’s biggest regrets. If he could turn back time
. . . What would he do if he could do it all over again?

Negotiate a different deal with his father to begin with. And as for Missy, he would have never hurt her. He definitely
would not have had sex with her, for both of their sakes.

The memory of that night still haunted him. He’d relived it more time
s than he could count. Even after all these weeks he could still remember every detail vividly. Memories kept him up nights while he was alone in his bed . . . and he had been alone. Zane didn’t feel like going out and hooking up with a stranger or even one of his usual back-up girls.

It must be the winter blues. It was the only explanation.

That the team had seen no real action since the hijacking back in January wasn’t helping. The good news was, by all indications that was about to change.

Zane walked into the meeting room to see Jon, Thom and Brody already there. He nodded a greeting to them and sat. “Anyone know w
hat’s up?”

“No clue.”
Jon shook his head.

Brody let out a snort. “H
ell, I don’t care what it is. Any action is better than no action at all, I always say.”

Grant, the senior member of the team, entered the meeting room
and stood at the head of the table. Zane hoped he had something good for them. Opening a folder he’d dropped onto the table, Grant glanced at the papers inside, and then up at them. “We have a TIP situation.”

TIP. Trafficking in Persons. Of all the many horrors that Zane had witnessed in his time with the teams, human trafficking was one that turned his stomach most. Forcing innocents, usually children, into a life of labor, or the sex trade, or child soldiering
, were sins that he hoped had many traffickers burning in hell.

Grant continued,
“Twenty four students, all females aged sixteen-to-eighteen, and two teachers, one American and one British, both also females, were taken three days ago from a government secondary school in Chibok in Borno State, Nigeria. Boko Haram has claimed responsibility.”

If Grant was still talking, Zane didn’t hear.
He was too occupied reviewing the details. Students and teachers were being taken right out of schools in Nigeria. He knew he should have convinced Missy to not go. He’d told her it was dangerous but he hadn’t stressed just how dangerous it could get.

Boko Haram
was full of sick motherfuckers who thought nothing of killing women and children, as well as men and boys. They’d killed hundreds of students in just the past few years, as well as prevented thousands more from attending school through threats alone, and the Nigerian government seemed completely ineffective in stopping them.

Attacks were the worst in North Eastern Nigeria
where Boko Haram had fortified camps in the refuge provided by the Sambisa Forest.

Shit, what
region was Missy teaching in? Zane didn’t know. He hadn’t asked. He should have.

“The girls and teachers were reportedly loaded into trucks
by the militants. Observation by locals in the region puts the possible location where the kidnapped girls are being held in the Konduga area of the forest, but I doubt they’ll be there long. The girls will likely be sold.”

Sold off to be wives or sex slaves. All for the bride price of just over ten bucks.

“Now here’s the bad news.” Grant paused and looked from man to man.

Zane’s brows rose. If what he’d just heard was the good news, he was afraid to hear what Grant had to say next.

“One of the teachers is the daughter of Senator Greenwood.” The roaring in Zane’s ears was so loud he could barely hear Grant’s words as he continued. “The assumption is that Boko Haram doesn’t know who they have or they would have already made demands in exchange for her. Time is of the essence. It’s crucial we get to this woman before they figure out who she is.”

Zane felt Jon’s hand on his back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Meanwhile, Zane was far from okay.

Even if Boko Haram
didn’t realize who Missy was, the dangers, the horrendous possibilities, were still unimaginable. She was a blond-haired, blue-eyed, attractive twenty-five year old woman in the hands of human traffickers. She’d be considered a valuable commodity in the sex trade in too many parts of the world for him to even fathom, even without the added value of who her father was
.

“The family has kept the abduction quiet. Only essential personnel know.
But if it leaks . . .” Grant didn’t have to finish the sentence. They all knew what would happen if the news got out. The demands would come, under the threat of her life.

Would the President
go against policy and negotiate with terrorists, given who Missy was? This president had already done so once for the American soldier held hostage by the Taliban. Zane could only hope Missy would be as lucky.

“What’s the plan?” Thom
asked.

He
was grateful to Thom for speaking up, since Zane wasn’t sure he had the air in his lungs to ask the question.

“We’re to prepare and hold.”

“Hold?” Zane asked, a bit more loudly than was appropriate.

“Yup.” Grant nodded.

“Hold where?”

“Here.”

“Here?” Zane couldn’t control the shock in his tone. “Why not there?”

Grant leveled his gaze on Zane.
“Those are the orders.”

“Why? You just said time is critical.” Zane couldn’t believe what he was hearing, or maybe he just didn’t want to.

The military had a long history of taking the
hurry up and wait
approach when it came to action. He should be used to it by now, but putting Missy’s life in greater danger by having them cooling their heels in the States rather than on location bordered on insanity.

“Apparently there’s a British journalist trying to broker a deal. A trade. The girls and teachers in exchange for Boko Haram prisoners being held.
The president wants to avoid boots on the ground if possible.”

Zane fought to control his rising blood pressure.

“In the meantime, prepare your kits and stay close.” Grant flipped closed the folder and picked it up.

The meeting was over yet the
only action Zane could take was to pack. Sure, the items he packed would consist of breeching charges and state of the art weapons, but it still wasn’t enough to soothe his restless need to move.

“Well, guess I’ll get to it.” Brody stood.

“Yup.” Thom followed suit.

After
Thom and Brody had both walked out of the door, Jon stood. When Zane stayed seated, Jon asked, “What’s up with you?”

“It’s Missy.”

Jon frowned, so Zane elaborated. “Missy Greenwood. Senator Greenwood’s daughter. The kidnapped teacher is the woman—”

“You grew up with. The one your father wanted you to date in exchange for the money.” Jon finished Zane’s sentence as his eyes widened with realization.

Zane continued, “And the woman you heard me dumping on the phone the morning after I slept with her.” Only they hadn’t actually slept. He hadn’t even given her the courtesy of spending the whole night with her after they’d had sex.

“Jesus, Zane. I’m sorry, man.”

Zane shook his head. “Dammit. I knew I should have tried to talk her out of going. Nigeria? A girl like her doesn’t belong in a place like that. Fuck!”

Hi
ndsight was twenty-twenty. Having such clarity after the fact felt excruciatingly painful.

“Come on.” Jon tipped his head toward the door. “The only thing we can do right now is be ready to go when the order comes.”

“I know.” Zane clenched his jaw.

This was exactly why they’d dreamed up GAPS. So they could make their own decisions. Use their skills to take action, without waiting for the politicians to finish their tap dancing.

If he’d done what his father had asked, if he’d built a relationship with Missy and had gotten the million dollars, they’d be able to go get her now. He could have turned in his separation papers already. He had enough time stored up, he could have put in for terminal leave for the last two months of his contract.

Rick and Chris were
already ready to go, he and Jon could have worked it out somehow. They could all be on a plane to Nigeria right now, on the way to get Missy back. Zane and the team could walk into that forest encampment armed to the teeth and shoot until not one damn member of Boko Haram was left standing.

The way things stood now, all he could do was pack up his shit and wait.

His mind still spinning, Zane stood and followed Jon to the door. He wished he could call Missy’s parents. Reiterate to them the importance of keeping this a secret. Tell them plans were being made. That he’d do anything and everything to bring Missy home alive. But it would be dancing on the edge of compromising operational security by contacting them.

A family he’d known since birth and he couldn’t call them at what had to be the darkest hour of their lives.

Sometimes this life Zane lived could be really fucked up. If he made it through this hell and came out the other side, he was going to make some major changes across the board. He faced death too often to have regrets about how he’d lived.

CHAPTER 16

T
he ropes binding Missy’s wrists had long ago made her hands numb. That was probably a blessing since she was pretty sure she’d rubbed her skin raw trying to loosen them.

The tent she and Diana were being kept in was too dark to see much of anything. All she knew was that she was alive and that the girls were being held elsewhere.

The girls
. She’d failed them. But what could any of them have done when the armed men rushed the school?

T
hey’d all been herded at gunpoint into the trucks like cattle. The men had driven for some distance before finally stopping.

All Missy
had seen as they were unloaded during a torrential rain was forest and more armed men. She and Diana had been thrown in one tent together. The girls were taken elsewhere. Missy hadn’t seen them since.

She’d heard them though. Horrible, heartbreaking screams that made her want to scream herself to block out the sound. Diana had said if th
ey were screaming, at least that meant that they were still alive. Missy didn’t want to think about what was being done to them to elicit the bloodcurdling screams.

Bound
and weak from days with no food and barely any water, there was nothing she could do to help anyway. So she listened, and prayed, and once in a while, when Diana was sleeping, she cried. And she vowed if the opportunity arose she’d get out of there, even if she died trying.

She didn’t even have the knife Zane had chosen for her, never imagining she’d need to b
e armed for a physics exam. The men hadn’t searched her. If she had the knife on her, in her pants pocket, she could cut her own ropes, free Diana and . . . then what?

Escape into the forest and look for help?

How far were they from anyone who wasn’t part of this group who’d kidnapped them? She had no idea. It didn’t matter anyway because she didn’t have the knife. It was back at the school in her room. It had hurt to look at it, a reminder of their one perfect day that had turned out to be not so perfect after all, so she’d stuck it away in a pocket of the bag they’d shopped for together.

A girl’s scream cut through the night. Missy pulled in her knees and dropped her head between them. She knew it would be th
e first of many screams that would last for what felt like hours, though time was a concept she was losing her grip of.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

At the sound of Diana’s soft whisper, Missy lifted her head, wishing she shared Diana’s confidence. “How?”

“I don’t know, but we will.”

The question remained would it be before or after the men turned their attention to her and Diana?

The screams continued. Missy dropped her head again and braced herself to endure them, embarrassed and ashamed that the sound bothered her when she knew the girl making it was going through
unimaginable horrors.

The screams stopped abruptly, ominously cut off completely. The sudden
silence had Missy lifting her head. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

A burst of machinegun fire had Missy’s heart rate speeding. In the countless days since they’d been taken, this was the first time she’d heard gunfire. “What are they shooting at?”

“Hopefully, they’re killing
each other.”

Missy understoo
d what Diana meant. Dissent among the ranks might be a good thing. Then again, it could be very bad. Whoever had been in charge hadn’t bothered with Missy and Diana. A shift in power might change that.

Af
ter the initial burst, there were no more sounds of machinegun fire. Missy barely breathed as she waited, straining to listen for anything that might give her a clue as to what was happening outside.

The tent flap lifted and she stifled a scream as two shadowy figures pushed through, one after another. One broke off to the right, sweeping a
large weapon in front of him, as the second broke off to the left, mirroring him exactly.

The
men who’d taken them were loud and sloppy. These men were dressed identically and moved with stealth and precision. Their motions were coordinated and smooth, practiced, and for the first time in days, Missy let herself hope.

“Clear.”
One man hissed the words and turned to guard the doorway.

The second man came forward and kneeled in front of Missy
and Diana. “Melissa Greenwood?”

The fact he
had a distinctly American voice and knew her name had Missy’s throat tightening as tears of relief clouded her eyes. “Yes.”

He smiled beneath the grease paint
smeared on his exposed skin. “Ms. Greenwood, my name is Jon and I know someone who’s going to be very happy to see you.”

In seconds, he’d whipped out a knife
like one she’d seen in the case when she’d been shopping with Zane. He cut her hands and feet free, and then turned to do the same for Diana.

The moment the girl was free, she came to Missy’s side and hugged her. “I told you.”

“You did.” Missy squeezed her back.

By the door, the other man spoke low. “
Alpha team confirming we have the package plus one. Repeat, we have located the package.”

His words struck
her as odd. The whole night had gotten surreal. “Am I the package?”

Wi
th one hand beneath her arm, he lifted her into a standing position. As he smiled, his teeth glowed white compared to the camouflage paint covering his face. “Yes, ma’am. You are.”

The tent flap opened again and a third figure pushed through. The man at the door
swung his gun toward the man and then moved it to the side. “Good God almighty. Warn me when you’re fixin’ to come busting in.”

“Sorry, Brody.”

Missy recognized that voice. “Zane.”

His
gaze shot to where she stood, wobbly, but alive and whole, and that was all that mattered. That and the fact Zane and two men who she instinctively trusted were here to save her.

Zane strode forward and gripped
her by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”
Her throat so tight with emotion, Missy’s response came out as a choked whisper.

He stared at her for a few seconds, looking her up and down as if to assure himself she really was fine.
“We’ll have the docs check you out when we get to Chad.”

The man who had
cut her free, Jon, was busy turning things over inside the tent, even checking beneath the two blankets they’d been allowed as their only comfort. He turned. “There’s nothing we need to bring back.”

“We have to get out of here. There are so many men. They all have guns.” Missy did her best to picture the
men she’d seen so she could estimate their number and warn Zane and his friends.

“Don’t worry about that.” Zane
dropped his hold on her and turned to the other two men. “The minute Bravo team has the girls loaded into those three trucks we’ve liberated from our hosts, we’re heading out.”

“Have you found all the girls? There were twenty-four. Are they all right?” Diana asked.

Zane glanced at Diana. “We found twenty-four.”

Missy noted he didn’t
answer Diana’s second question if they were all right. A cold chill ran down her spine. She wished he would hold her again, even if it was just his hands on her arms and not the hug she needed.

The man Zane had called Brody touched his
hand to his ear and then turned to Zane.

“They’re ready.
” Brody headed out the door first, slowly, carefully. He popped his head back in. “Clear.”

“Let’s go.” Zane hooked his hand beneath Missy’s arm as
Jon did the same to Diana.

Missy
hadn’t moved, or even stood in she didn’t know how long. Her muscles were stiff and weak and she felt lightheaded as Zane half led, half carried her outside. They sped into the dark night toward a caravan of trucks lined up in the center of camp.

She
tried to look around her as Zane dragged her toward the vehicle, his one hand on her, his other on the weapon slung around his shoulders by a strap. She couldn’t believe they could just drive away. That the men who’d held them would allow that.

“
Where are they? All the men?”

Zane boosted her into the back of the truck. “There weren’t all that many.”

Again he didn’t answer her question directly. He’d deflected her. She was beginning to see Zane could be a master at avoiding questions he didn’t want to answer. She had to wonder how many times he’d done that to her during their one day together. If her brain wasn’t spinning, she might have a hope of remembering their conversation better.

No matter what Zane said about the number of men,
Missy wasn’t convinced they were going to get away so easily.

Expecting to see someone come after them in pursuit, s
he glanced past Zane as he climbed into the back of the truck with her. Even as the trucks pulled out of camp, taking a path through the woods one behind the other as tree branches whipped past them, she waited for a shout or a burst of gunfire.

None came. Finally, after minutes and miles passed, sh
e stopped watching behind them.

Of course, danger could lie in front of them as well.
She turned her gaze to Zane, standing up and facing forward in the bed of the truck, his gun braced on the roof. He wore strange goggles attached to his helmet that flipped down to cover his eyes, a vest and a backpack. Not to mention a knife strapped to his leg, and a small gun on his hip in addition to the larger one he held.

Missy wouldn’t have recognized him
if she hadn’t heard his voice, and after their initial conversation, he hadn’t spoken a word to her. He was cool to the point of being cold. His motions were disciplined. His attention never wavered as he surveyed the night around them, watching for danger. Protecting them all.

This man she didn’t know at all.
Which was the real Zane? The one she’d thought she knew or this one?

The man
watching what was happening behind the truck while Zane watched what was in front, glanced quickly at her. “You doing a’ight, Miss Greenwood?”

She couldn’t see him in the dark but she recognized the southern drawl. It was Brody who’d guarded the entrance to the
tent while Jon had freed them.

“Yes.”

Finally letting herself breathe as she squelched the fear that they’d be attacked, Missy looked around at who else was in the truck with her.

In the dark, huddled together and
silent except for one who was weeping softly, were six of the girls. Diana sat opposite Missy, her arm around one of the students. Missy tried to catch her friend’s eye, wanted to ask her without words if the girls were all right, but in the darkness it was too hard.

Maybe
it was better if she didn’t know. She dreaded seeing the girls in the daylight. Seeing what damage the men had inflicted.

“How did you find us?”
Missy asked, raising her voice so Brody could hear. Talking seemed to help and Brody seemed willing to talk, even if Zane no longer was.

He angled his head to her even while watching the forest around them. “Leads from the locals. Drone surveillance. A damn good bit of luck.”

That last part struck her as funny. Missy let out a laugh even as the tears started to flow. She covered her mouth with her hand to hold in the sobs. All that could have happened to her, all that had happened, it seemed to hit her all at once. Now that she might actually be safe, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Missy.” The sound of Zane’s voice brought her head up.

“I’m sorry.” A sob followed her apology.

“Christ. Don’t apologize.” He reached down and pulled her by the arm.
It would have been impossible to stand in the bouncing truck as it jolted along the rough road if he hadn’t tucked her in between him and the back window of the cab. “Listen to me. I need to do my job to get you out of here safely.”

“I know.” Just the warmth of his hard body pressed against hers calmed her.
She could handle this version of Zane if he continued to hold her like he was.