Opening her eyes, Zoe started. Where was she? Then she remembered.
Ramos had drugged her.
Her elbows pressed down on thick cushions as she struggled to sit up, her body limp and heavy.
The bastard had carried her to her stateroom and laid her on the couch. She glanced at the nightstand clock. She’d been knocked out for two hours.
Zoe rubbed her eyes. Wake up! She wanted to kick some Ramos ass.
She looked over at the bed and listened.
No lump or soft breathing.
Leah wasn’t in it.
With unsteady steps, she made her way to the bed and threw back the blanket.
No Barbie dolls.
But the star, bird, and dragon were perched on the nightstand.
Zoe stumbled to the bathroom.
No Leah.
She opened the closet. Leah’s pink suitcase was gone.
Her heart racing, she reached for her Beretta in her tank top, but he’d taken it. She dug through her weapon stash for her Glock. Loading it, she ran to Ramos’s room.
She tried the doorknob. Locked. So, he’d fixed it from his escape kick.
“Ramos,” she shouted and pounded on the door with her fist. “You have two seconds or I’m blasting through.”
The door cracked open and she stared into a Glock barrel.
Ramos said, “Feeling better are you?”
“Leah’s gone!” she screamed.
“Relax, it’s okay. She’s safe.”
Safe? The asshole had Leah snuck off the boat while she slept, she realized with shock.
He started to close the door, but she shouldered the door and bolted in. As she shoved past him, she whipped her arm up, knocking the Glock from his hand. She kicked his gun away and raised hers, aiming it at his chest.
He cursed in Portuguese. In English, he said, “The safety wasn’t on. You could’ve killed us.”
“What do you mean, she’s safe? She was safe with us.”
He sighed. “Okay, momma. Shane said that with the Chinese breathing down our necks, Easton wanted her moved to a more protected location.”
Her gut warning bells alarmed and her stomach knotted. There was more to this story.
She said, “Easton ordered it? He has the code. We have Italy’s Special Forces backing us up. She was safe here. This doesn’t make sense.”
“Look, I’m telling you everything I know. I had nothing to do with the decision on moving the kid.”
“Bullshit.” Not only had he drugged her, he’d helped them pack Leah and whisk her away under the cover of darkness like a thief. “Sit down.”
“Oh, come on, not this game again.”
“Trust me. This is no game. Sit.”
He sat on the bed.
“Answer my questions truthfully.”
He crossed his arms. “Ask away.”
“Why was Leah taken?”
“Shane said Easton believed Leah might know about some of her father’s ISIS weapon transactions. He wants her in a more secure location so they’d had time to question her further.”
“Where is she?”
“I told you. I don’t know. I wasn’t involved in the arrangements.”
“Don’t insult me. You could’ve at least let her take her star and bird. You know they’re her security blanket.”
His lip curled in disgust. “You may be her mommy, but I’m not her daddy. Why the fuck would I think about her paper toys? She was drugged and didn’t ask for them. She has her dolls.”
“Drugged? I get it now. You did coordinate this. It was all a lie about the stew and sleeping drug being good for me. You drugged me so you could transport Leah off the boat without me interfering. Then you drugged her. You’re quite the pimp—drugging women, aren’t you?”
A pulse throbbed in Ramos’s temple. “Yes, I drugged you so we could take Leah away. You’re way too attached to her. I knew you’d fight me about her going. I didn’t want to have to tell Easton and Shane I couldn’t get a child off the cruiser as quickly as they wanted because she was your ‘baby girl’ now. I did it to cover you. You know if Easton and Shane found out how much you care for the kid they’d see you as weak, and you’d fall from their graces like a lead balloon. But the reality is, we don’t have time to play nicey-nicey. We’re in a chess game with the Chinese. She’s safe. That’s all that matters. I meant what I said about the stew. You’re back to yourself now, aren’t you? You feel clean and strong, don’t you?”
She did, Zoe realized in surprise. The initial drug stupor when she woke up had gone. “You didn’t tell Shane you drugged me?”
“No. I told the people who picked up Leah that you had food poisoning and had gone to bed.”
“Who picked up Leah?”
“Italy’s Special Forces.”
Not GTA operatives? Easton had used an outside agency already on-site. He wanted it done fast. Her bad feeling grew stronger. Stealing Leah away in the dark of night…the drugging…
She was losing patience. “Where. Did. They. Take. Her?”
“For the third time. I don’t know. And honestly, I didn’t ask because I don’t care.”
“Well, I can find out with the GPS locator on her.”
“No, I took it off.”
Her stomach clenched. She had no connection to Leah now. “Why?”
“Security risk. The Chinese know about Leah and with their ability to hack into GTA, the security of her GPS signal is compromised. By taking it off, I kept her safe.”
He kept Leah safe? How dare he act like he was the one taking care of the child. He wasn’t anything but a creep.
She stepped forward. He’d pay for drugging her.
His eyes widened. “Zoe—”
“Take it like a man. Don’t beg. You know you have it coming.”
His face reddened.
His torso inched forward.
But she’d expected it. Before he could complete his lunge, she swung her arm up and pistol-whipped him in the temple. He collapsed backward onto the bed, unconscious.
Zoe stared down at him. She’d cold-cocked her partner. Bad mistake.
But hell, Ramos had gotten off easy. The headache pain he’d wake up with wouldn’t remotely come close to the anguish Leah would have when she opened her eyes and grasped for her star and bird…her mother and father…that weren’t there.
She fished some plastic handcuffs from his suitcase and secured his wrists and ankles together. He’d have to work for it, but he’d get free with his skills.
And she’d be ready for his revenge when he did.
In his suitcase she found her Beretta and secured it back into her tank top. Locking his door, she went upstairs to the helm. She believed Ramos didn’t know where they’d taken Leah. She could call Shane and ask, but he’d ask why she wanted to know. In the agency’s view, her involvement with the child had ended once she’d gotten the code.
But not in her view.
She’d go after Leah and find out for herself what was going on. Turning on the power, she studied the radar. But nothing appeared on the display. No moving boats.
She punched the steering wheel. Too damn late. They could’ve taken Leah an hour ago. Enough time to be long gone.
Turning off the power, she headed back downstairs to get her phone. She’d have Isabel find out where Leah had gone and then go after her.
She paused at Ramos’s closed door and listened. All quiet. He wasn’t as hardheaded as she’d thought. Her hit must have really knocked him out.
Entering her stateroom, Zoe saw her phone on the couch.
A soft sound came from behind her, but before she could spin around a terrible force hit her head.
Pain.
Blackness.
* * *
Waking, Zoe found herself sprawled across the end of the bed.
“Touché, Ramos,” she whispered and then winced at her raging headache. He’d pistol-whipped her in revenge, which she understood. But to lay her on the bed like he cared instead of leaving her on the floor? Weird.
And it was weird how dark it was.
Had she gone blind? She blinked a few times. Out the window over the bed, the moon glowed. No, she hadn’t lost her sight from the hit.
A figure dashed by the window.
She froze.
A person too thin to be Ramos.
And they were running.
Her body tingled as adrenaline pumped into her veins.
Her gaze moved from the window to her watch. She’d been out fifteen minutes.
She inched her throbbing head up.
Another movement. This time outside the window over the couch.
Another shadow too thin to be Ramos.
But this person flew up.
Like they’d been pulled by a rope.
She slipped her Beretta out and rolled onto her stomach. Thank God Ramos hadn’t taken it this time. She scooted backward off the bed and hunkered down next to it.
The night lights she’d plugged in for Leah next to the nightstand were not lit.
It was dark because the power had been cut.
They were under attack.
Staying low to the ground, Zoe crawled to the couch and climbed up on it. Raising her head inch by inch, she peeked out the window.
A thin rope.
The rope whipped up, disappearing.
She raced to the closet and shut the door. Turning on the Beretta’s flashlight, she clipped the left pearl earring on for the hearing aid and then put in her night-vision contact lenses. Zoe shut off the flashlight, and in the night-vision’s green glow, she hightailed it out to the hall.
With her gun up and back to the wall, she went to Ramos’s stateroom next door.
The door was open. She made a quick inspection.
Empty.
She checked under the bed.
Nothing.
She threw open the closet door.
Ramos’s clothes and bags were there.
The bathroom was also empty except for his toiletries.
She crept up the stairs. At the top, she stopped, surveying the salon and cockpit.
The salon windows were open as was the door to the cockpit.
And a brawny man in shorts lay facedown on the cockpit floor under the table.
Her heart hammering in her chest, Zoe took a rasping breath.
Ramos.
In a pool of blood.
She scanned the salon and dropped to the floor. She shimmied over to him and grasped his wrist.
No pulse.
Damn-damn-damn.
Shuffle!
Zoe rolled onto her back, spraying bullets in the sound’s direction as she sprang to her knees.
Running feet…away from her…portside. The attacker had jumped onto the outside walkway.
She vaulted up and took the shortcut through the salon. Grabbing the window ledge, she jettisoned herself through it, landing feet first onto the walkway.
And right behind a person in black.
Her finger pressed the Beretta’s trigger and she riddled the body with lead.
Roar!
An engine. She leaned over the railing and fired at the speedboat zooming out to sea.
Zoe dropped her arm. The attacker had taken off in a Skater powerboat. Those race catamarans went one hundred fifty miles an hour. By the time she started up the cruiser, they’d be long gone.
Squatting, she removed the black silk face covering of the dead attacker at her feet.
Chinese.
His black spandex outfit had no pockets. She inspected the assault rifle next to him. It had the bullpup configuration the Chinese military used with the receiver behind the trigger so the rifle was shorter and lighter than conventional ones.
She punched the railing. Leah wasn’t safe. Not only had the Chinese hacked into GTA, like ghosts they’d invisibly bypassed Italy’s protective surveillance of their cruiser.
After searching the cruiser and finding no other intruders, Zoe went to the helm and reconnected the power. She studied the radar. No other boats nearby. She typed a message using Italy’s Special Forces holographic light-stick code alerting they’d been attacked but were all clear now. This way they’d be on full alert and guard Leah closer.
In the cockpit, she turned Ramos over and gazed at the SEAL Trident tattoo on his arm. Say what she would about him as a person now, he’d been a great warrior once.
She closed his eyes. “Peace.”
Wrapping his body in a sheet, she dragged him into the protection of the salon. She’d been lucky the attackers hadn’t come across her first.
Or, maybe they’d gotten word Leah wasn’t here. Whatever, fate had spared her for some reason.
After taking pictures, she dumped the dead Chinese attacker overboard.
While she didn’t know all the elaborate settings of the boat’s security alarm system that Ramos had established, she knew how to activate it.
She poured herself a generous glass of cabernet and sat on the cockpit couch and reloaded her gun. Sitting outside, she’d see and hear a boat or aircraft coming.
Zoe took a drink as she gazed out. The large bright moon shone steadily amidst a thousand twinkles. Setting her glass down, she took a deep breath and reached for her phone.
Shane answered on the first ring. “Yes, Zoe?”
“We had a visit by two Chinese. I managed to wipe out one, but the other got away. I emailed you pictures.”
She softened her tone. “They killed Ramos. I’m so sorry. I know you two were close.”
Silence.
Then he howled, “No…No…”
She winced at the deep pain she heard in his voice.
Silence again.
“Did you notify Italy?” His voice cracked.
“Yes.”
More silence.
“Good,” he said. He sucked in his breath. “I don’t see any reason to change your departure plans.”
Zoe shook her head, marveling at how fast he’d regained his composure. It had to be his Special Forces training. She could ask now what she wanted to know. To hell if she shouldn’t be involved with Leah. “Where’s Leah?”
“Holed up in a mountain valley.”
“Good. I was against you taking her, but I see you were right. The Chinese were just a few hours too late. What are you going to do with her?”
Shane hesitated, but then said, “Easton feels she may have other valuable information related to her father’s terrorist business dealings. She’ll be coming here to headquarters.”
“Who’s she going to stay with?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure that out before she gets here.”
“Let her stay with me and Isabel. I built a good relationship with her. I got the code in three days, right? I can work with her and get whatever you want from her.”
Shane said, “A real possibility. But there’s the security issue. The Chinese are after her and, maybe soon, others will be too. She’s a high-risk kidnap victim.”
As he spoke, a scheme hatched in her mind. Zoe took a sip from her glass, pondering it. “I have an idea that would end the threat against Leah’s life. Let’s do an extraction of Leah in cooperation with Italy’s Special Forces. In the op, we pretend she gets killed. Once she’s ‘dead’ to the world she’s safe and can stay with me and Isabel. I can then pursue trying to get any additional information out of her that she may have.”
“Sounds feasible to me. I’ll run it by Easton.”
“Thanks.” She softened her tone again. “I have…Ramos secure and covered in a sheet. Would you like me to do something now? Or will he be picked up at port?” A GTA “cleaning crew” would board after she vacated the cruiser, but she wouldn’t be heading out to Malta until dawn.
Silence again.
Then he said, “I appreciate you asking. Since I’m not there to place my Gold Trident on his coffin, please draw the SEAL Trident insignia on the sheet and then give him to the God of the Oceans, Poseidon, to take him…” His voice broke. “Home.”
“I will,” she said.
“Thank you.” He hung up.
Taking a Sharpie from the kitchen, she knelt by Ramos. She photographed his tattoo and, copying the picture, drew the eagle-anchor-trident-pistol insignia on the sheet across his chest.
After taking a photo for Shane, she secured the sheet around Ramos’s body with rope and dragged him to the swim platform. She tied weights, which she’d taken from the cruiser’s fishing supplies, to the rope and flipped the hydraulic lift switch. The platform lowered into the water.
Zoe rolled Ramos off into Poseidon’s care.