Chapter Eight

For the past couple of hours, Mitch had steered the Q40 northwest across the Gulf of Mexico, focused on not becoming mesmerized by the tunnel vision aspect. Even in the dark, he had to continually keep his eyes moving and his reflexes alert. Of course, Liz’s tiny movements against his chest every so often had more than kept him alert.

Her tucked against him had felt natural. Like she’d been part of him forever.

He’d told her to get some rest. Evidently, she trusted him enough to do just that. The few times he’d stretched his legs or shifted on the seat had disturbed her enough to elicit soft moans of annoyance as she moved in return. Hopefully that would be enough to keep her blood flowing and nerves active, instead of cramping her movements by staying in one position too long.

Each time she’d settled back against him, she felt warm and inviting. Sure, he’d woken up next to a lot of women in his lifetime, even let himself care for one once. Their life together had lasted six months before she gave him an ultimatum—her or OPAQUE. She couldn’t take the hours, the danger, the unknown. He’d thrown his toothbrush in a bag, wished her well, walked out the door, and never looked back.

Swerving to avoid another small pod of dolphins, or whatever else lurked beneath the surface, was just what he needed to push himself back into assignment mode. An occasional spray of water droplets provided enough cooling to keep him awake. Thankfully, the Q40 had cruise control.

He replayed their escape from Captiva. One move at a time. Was there anything he could have done different? Anything?

The sound of gunshots from the beach house, coupled with the explosion on the horizon, meant a well-planned attack had been underway from Coercion Ten. How? How had they zeroed in on the Captiva safe house so quick? How had they even known about the place? Hopefully, his team had been able to hold them off until the FBI arrived. The sirens meant local police had been involved, also.

He focused on the Q40’s dash screen. Nothing there but the dull green glow; not even the wave symbol appeared in the upper corner. OPAQUE had to be tracking them, keeping the info encrypted so others on the water couldn’t decipher any messages they might intercept. His last message had stated Drake was still in charge of the overall case. Reese Trenton had been added to Mitch’s team.

Tired didn’t begin to explain the ache in Mitch’s muscles. OPAQUE would have counted on him holing up somewhere, which would give them time to get in place for a rendezvous. But by now there should be some contact. If he didn’t hear anything in the next few hours, he’d make his own plans.

He dragged his foot in the water, deliberately spraying the wave against his body once again. Liz was tucked against his chest and sleeping, covered beneath the solar vest. She’d stay dry. He’d stay awake.

Keeping his mind moving, he went through everything that had happened since he walked into the Mariner’s bar back in Fort Myers. Trying to find minute details that might hint at why Coercion Ten had Liz and her father in their crosshairs. He searched for any clue somebody had said in passing. Anything Liz had told him. Nothing.

Leaving his team behind had been hard. But escape had been the only way to keep her alive.

After leaving home at sixteen, he hated abandoning anyone. But life, Drake, and assignments had had a way of drilling other undeniable facts into his thinking. What bothered him most was that this was the first time he’d had to leave his team behind when he was the leader.

Usually, he stayed. He covered everyone’s rear. He fought to find a way out after everyone else was safe.

The idea that sometimes the only way to save others was to leave tasted bitter on his tongue. He hadn’t liked hearing his team battle the enemy as he fled. Still, he’d done what had to be done.

Briefly, he laid his cheek against the top of her head. Her hair tickled against him in the breeze. He jerked his head and emotions back, focusing instead on the dash screen’s sonar images. Nothing mattered right now but staying alive. And, staying out of Coercion Ten’s reaches.

Surely, Drake and the rest of the OPAQUE group had zeroed in on what was going on. Following the trail backward sometimes yielded results, but at the moment, there wasn’t much trail to even speculate.

However, one possibility gnawed at his what-if mind. What if this case wasn’t actually about Liz and her dad? What if the true target had been—

The sonar screen flashed from green to blue. The words “hot meal straight ahead” scrolled across the bottom of the screen a couple of times, then the blue background changed to green.

He breathed a sigh of relief—the cavalry had arrived. Finally.

Right on cue, the wave in the right-hand corner appeared, and he tapped the screen in response.

“Liz.” He gently nudged her arm, hoping to wake her up without putting her into panic mode. “Liz…wake up.”

She stretched her neck sideways, sighing as the palms of her hands brushed across his chest. She stopped. Eyes wide open, she gasped and started to push at him, wrestling to get out of the solar vest, clawing at his chest with a force to make an enemy shove her aside.

He wasn’t her enemy, but at the moment he felt like chucking her in the water. She’d pinched the skin beneath his arm with one hand. Latched onto his chest with the other, scraping her fingernails across his abs, into his side.

Damn-it-to-hell, that hurt. He jabbed his elbow against her hand. “Hey. Leave a little skin.”

“Sorry.” She eased her vise grip clench on his sides.

“That’s okay.” If he ever had to wake her up in the future, he planned to be a lot farther away than face-to-face, body to body. Maybe…or maybe not.

“I thought I was falling in the water again.”

“Not likely. I’ve had a hold on you for the past couple hours.” Rubbing his elbow against his side, he grunted.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“No. Takes a lot more than that to hurt me.” Although, come to think of it, she’d fought with more tenacity than some men he’d met in hand-to-hand combat.

“Are we almost there?”

His earbud clicked at the same time a tiny star flashed bright white on the GPS. He motioned her to look over her shoulder at the screen. “That’s our ride.”

“You two okay out there?” Drake sounded tired as he spoke through the secure communication system.

“Sure thing. We could go another hundred miles.” Mitch would if need be. He’d keep going to his last second of life. When that time came, he planned to fall forward as he hit the dirt, or water, as the case might be.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Liz glanced up. “Drake’s on the boat?”

“Evidently.” Mitch hadn’t planned on the boss coming out to meet them. That wasn’t the standard MO.

Usually, the old man, as the agents liked to call the boss, would have been holed up back at the main headquarters in St. Louis. Most days, he could be found roaming the hallways, checking what was new in research, or offering input on new computer enhancements. Always trying to come up with innovative ways of maintaining security.

A white spot spun off from the tiny star location and moved in their direction. Backup? Guide? Team member?

Didn’t matter what you called the person on the way to their position, he was the OPAQUE agent charged with making sure the pickup went smoothly. And, that he and Liz were actually the ones being guided into the agency’s current mission base.

He throttled back, bringing the Q40 to a floating stop on the water. Tapping Liz to get her attention, he held his fingers to his lips. She nodded.

The other OPAQUE agent approached in silent mode. Still, Mitch knew the silent hum of a Q40 like he knew the click of a bullet being chambered. He tightened his grip on the throttle. If something felt off, he was ready to shoot into high speed in less than a second. If everything connected as okay, he’d need to give a return signal to the incoming agent.

The incoming Q40 ripped into loud high gear. The GPS displayed a tight whip around double circle. Mitch reacted with a silent, slow circle then ripped into loud high gear as he deliberately fishtailed across the water, headed straight toward the star location. The other Q40 stopped parallel about six feet away.

Former CIA agent turned OPAQUE agent, Reese Trenton gave his trademark casual salute with two fingers then tapped his earbud. “Did you lose your client?”

“No. I’ve got her right here.” Mitch pulled the solar vest apart to where Liz could be seen in the glow of the screen.

Reese raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Interesting arrangement you got there.”

“This was the only way to keep her warm.”

“Oh, I imagine both of you were plenty warm.” Reese indicated he’d lead the way to the boat.

Mitch had worked with the newly recruited agent a few times before when the CIA and OPAQUE were in on an assignment. Drake had thought highly enough of the guy to persuade him to join OPAQUE. Only took three years. Mitch had seen enough of his work to know he was good, which meant instant trust in his book.

Closing fast on the pickup boat, a shimmer of a glow in the near distance grew larger with each passing moment. This part always felt like coming home, or at least what he thought that should feel like. He’d had very few good homecomings as he grew up.

Reese landed his Q40 on one of the lifts at the back of the boat and jumped on deck as the lift raised. Mitch pulled alongside the boat then grabbed hold of a rope ladder hung over the side.

“What should I do?” Liz asked.

“Stay where you are until I get everything set for transfer.” He unbuckled the solar vest from around them and shoved it into a compartment on the Q40. “You’ve sat in that position for so long, it may be hard for you to stand at first. Relax, and let us do the work of getting you onboard.”

“Who?”

He pointed upward then wrapped his arms beneath her bottom as he stood on the footrails of the Q40. Damn, his own legs were none too steady either, but he managed to balance and push her upward. Leaning over the side of the boat, Reese and Drake stood ready to hoist her on board. During that brief glance, Mitch noticed his boss had reacted to Liz’s seating arrangement with a frown.

“Turn and reach as far up the ladder as you can,” Mitch said.

She glanced toward the water. “What if I fall in?”

“You’re not going to fall. I’ve got you.” He couldn’t believe they were having this same conversation again. If it was the last thing he ever did, he’d teach her how to swim. Right now, though, he had to get her on the boat, and she seemed frozen in place. “You going to let your fear of water keep you from living? Guess I gave you too much credit back there at the Mariner’s, E-liz-a-beth.”

She shoved his chest and turned toward the ladder, then grunting, with an all-out scream, she grabbed a ladder rung as far up as she could reach. Then another one. He propped his shoulder against the boat, steadying her feet on the bottom rung as Reese and Drake leaned over the side and grasped beneath her arms. In one smooth motion, they pulled her aboard.

Glancing back at him as she went over the boat rail, her expression said she was one pissed-off mama. “Mitch Granger, you are one pain-in-the rear!”

At least she was on the boat. Now, if he were smart, he’d turn the Q40 around and head right straight back across that Gulf.

Drake glanced over the side. “You plan to stand there all day?”

“I’m thinking about it.” He eased back to the seat.

“Well, stop thinking, and get your ass on board. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”