“She’s on board that one.” Mack pointed to the container ship secured at the dock.
Mustang pushed past Mack but was stopped in his tracks when Declan reached out to capture his arm. “We can’t just go storming aboard. We need a plan.”
“Hell, we need to take a page from our enemy’s book and create a diversion,” Mack said.
Clenching his fists, Mustang turned to their slack man, Jack Snow. “What have we got?”
Snow grinned and dropped a duffel bag at the team’s feet. “I’m glad you asked. You’d be surprised at the variety of munitions Charlie’s husband stockpiled in the basement beneath the garage. He has enough weapons to man a small army and enough ammunition to last long enough to survive a zombie apocalypse.”
“I’m not interested in a zombie apocalypse. I want to get Emily the hell off that ship in one piece.”
“You know, we’re not in Afghanistan anymore. Perhaps we should call the police and let them handle this,” Cole suggested.
The other five members of the team stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“If we involve the police, they might decide to kill Emily and Sachi and cut their losses.” Mustang tipped his head toward the ship.
“Or there will be a big political standoff with the Russian government and the Russian bad guys might commit murder and suicide to keep from being sent to Siberia,” Mack said.
Mustang shook his head. “We can’t risk it. We have to go in, neutralize the threat and free the hostages. It’s what we do. What we’re good at.” He waved his hand. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Snow pulled out four M4A1 rifles, two submachine guns and magazines filled with bullets for both, half a dozen smoke grenades, a small brick of C4 explosive and the detonators to go with it. He’d also brought six K-Bar knives and their sheaths, and body armor.
“Damn, Snow.” Cole laughed. “You don’t happen to have a rocket launcher tucked into that, do you?”
“No, but I’m sure Charlie can get you hooked up with one,” Snow said with a straight face. “Just say the word.”
Declan handed the C4 to Mack. “Make a noise, not enough to sink the ship, but enough to be heard and scare the crew ashore.”
Mack took the C4. “How am I supposed to get on board the ship to do that?”
Snow hefted two of the smoke grenades. “I played outfield on my baseball team in high school. Had the best and most accurate distance throwing arm on the team.”
“Can you get those smoke grenades on board that ship from the dock?” Declan asked.
“Just point. I’ll deliver.”
“We need one at the far end of the ship. If that doesn’t make them think they have a shipboard fire, we can toss the other in for good measure,” Declan said.
“You’ve got it.”
“Mustang, you’re point man,” Declan said. “As soon as the crew bails, you’re first man in. We’ll be right behind you.”
Mack showed Mustang the tracking device. “If this is accurate through the metal hull, Emily is somewhere near the bridge.”
“I’ll cover Mustang’s six,” Declan said. “Mack, you and Cole set the charges, Gus and Snow cover the gangway and keep anyone from coming back on board once they’ve disembarked. Our goal is to get in there, retrieve Emily and Sachi, and get the hell out before we’re caught in an international incident.”
Mack snorted. “What would it hurt? We’ve already got dishonorable discharges on our records,” he said, referring to their refusal to handle a kill that would have involved too much collateral damage during their military days.
Declan claimed a submachine gun and the rounds that went with it. “No matter what the records show, we’re honorable men. As long as we keep that in mind, that’s all that counts.”
“And if the body count mounts?” Gus asked as he buckled his protective vest in place.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we get to it,” Declan said, slipping his body armor over his shoulder.
Once the rest of the men had their bulletproof vests on, Declan asked, “Ready?”
As one, the team replied. “Ready.”
Anxious to get started, Mustang checked his handgun in the holster on his hip, grabbed one of the rifles and slipped several magazines into the pouches on his body armor and moved forward through the maze of containers, keeping to the shadows. He wouldn’t get ahead of the plan. He’d been with these men long enough to know the value of teamwork and having someone to cover him when he took point.
The bright lights of the shipyard cast deep shadows alongside the large, metal shipping containers, giving Mustang the concealment he needed to get close to the ship.
When he was as near as he could get without being seen, he waited for the signal to board…that signal being the launch of the smoke grenades.
He didn’t have long to wait. From his position he could see the arch of the grenade as it flew through the air and landed on the ship’s bow, rolling among the stacks of containers. A puff of smoke rose on impact and spread all across that end of the ship.
Shouts echoed in the night and men ran for fire extinguishers. When they couldn’t locate the source of the smoke, some made the decision to abandon ship. A dozen men crossed the gangplank.
In the ensuing smoke and confusion, Mustang tucked his rifle against his leg, walked past the men leaving, and boarded the ship, keeping his head down so that anyone he passed wouldn’t immediately realize he was a stranger.
Once on board, he waited for Declan to catch up, keeping a close watch for anyone who might be a danger to his teammate.
Declan walked on board, the submachine gun hidden beneath his jacket.
With the tracking device in hand, Mustang headed for the tallest part of the ship and the wheelhouse where the captain commanded the operation of the ship.
Several times before he reached the pilot castle, Mustang had to duck back against the containers to avoid being seen by armed men running around in the smoke.
With Declan covering him, Mustang entered the pilot castle and climbed the steps up to the deck where the bridge was located. At the top, he surprised two guards standing watch at a door Mustang assumed led to the bridge.
Before the men could aim their weapons, Mustang swung the butt of his rifle, hitting the first one in the nose at the same time as he threw a side kick into the other guard’s gut. He had them both subdued by the time Declan joined him on the deck.
Wordlessly, Mustang eased open the door to the bridge, holding his rifle at the ready.
Not ten feet from where he was, Mustang spotted Emily standing at the center of the window that stretched from one end of the room to the other.
She was turned to face the door from which Mustang viewed her.
She shook her head imperceptibly and shot a glance to her right.
Mustang’s gaze followed Emily’s to a man with thick gray hair and piercing black eyes, holding a gun pointed at her chest.
“Come in,” the man said. “Please, join my other guest.”
Emily shook her head more noticeably. “Don’t,” she said. “He’s got a gun.”
“Oh, but I insist. And if you do not come in, I will shoot the interpreter.”
Mustang entered, aiming his rifle at the man’s chest. “You must be Viktor Sokolov,” he guessed.
Sokolov dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I am. And you must be our little interpreter’s bodyguard who has made it difficult for us to dispose of her.”
Mustang’s chest tightened. “Why would you want to kill her? What did she ever do to you?”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “It is not what she did, but what she witnessed.”
“The journalist you detained in the embassy?” Mustang asked. “Where is he now? Or have you disposed of him, as well?”
“All in due time,” Viktor said. “It is much easier to dispose of a body at sea than on land.”
“And is that what you have planned for Miss Chastain?” Mustang hoped that by keeping the man talking, he’d buy some time to come up with a plan to save Emily.
“Now that she is here, it seems a waste to do away with her, especially when we can get a sizeable sum for a woman with her particular shade of blond hair. And blue eyes are prized.”
Mustang muttered a curse beneath his breath. The bastard was trafficking women to foreign markets, and he planned on selling Emily to the highest bidder. Death was too kind for Viktor.
“Don’t worry about me,” Emily said. “Just shoot the bastard. There are more people at stake here.”
Mustang aimed his gun at the man’s chest, beyond tempted to pull the trigger.
Viktor snorted. “Shoot me, and you are all dead.”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked.
“There are explosives aboard this ship, rigged with a timer. I set it for fifteen minutes…five minutes ago. I am the only one who knows where the explosives are and the only one with the code to disarm the detonator.”
Mustang shot a glance at this watch. Ten minutes wasn’t enough time to do anything, much less search an entire ship for explosives and disarm said explosives. “You’re bluffing.”
Viktor’s lips curled. “Are you certain? Only time will tell. Now, enough talk. You will clear this ship of all of your personnel in five minutes.”
“This ship is worth more than the cargo it carries. Put down your weapon and give up now and you might not get the death penalty.”
Viktor shook his head. “Nine minutes and counting. You are meddling in something much bigger than the cost of just one ship. An organization that extends beyond my little portion of the operation. There are people all over the world who will not be happy if they are exposed. People in your own country. In your own government.” He chuckled. “I will not give up.”
“Let Miss Chastain go and I’ll see to it that you are free to go,” Mustang lied. “And I’m sure the Russian ambassador would pay dearly to get his daughter back.”
The ambassador’s assistant shook his head. “You are a fool. Eight minutes.”
While Viktor’s attention was focused on Mustang, Emily inched toward her captor.
Mustang wanted to tell her to stand fast, to keep from becoming Viktor’s next victim. But to say anything would divert Viktor’s attention back to her.
He didn’t have to ponder that dilemma. In a flash, Emily dove for the gun in Viktor’s hand and shoved it toward the floor.
The sound of a gunshot blasted through the air.
Mustang aimed at Viktor, but couldn’t pull the trigger for fear of hitting Emily.
She had hold of the man’s wrist, struggling to keep it pointed at the floor, but the man was strong. Slowly he overpowered her, inching the gun toward her chest.
Mustang had to do something. He couldn’t stand by and let Viktor kill the woman who’d come to mean more to him than he’d ever imagined a woman could in such a short time. He aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, praying Emily didn’t shift at the last moment.
Two gunshots echoed across the bridge.
Viktor slumped over, his body landing on top of Emily’s, crushing her beneath him.
Mustang’s breath lodged in his throat until Emily’s hand moved. “Help,” she said, her voice strained and breathy.
Mustang ran to her, shoved Viktor over and bent to Emily. Blood covered her shirt.
“I couldn’t get in to help in case Viktor got spooked and pulled the trigger prematurely,” Declan said, entering the room behind Mustang. “I texted Mack and told him to hold off on the explosives. We don’t know if a small explosion will trigger whatever Viktor has set. Is Emily okay?”
“I don’t know.” Mustang stared into Emily’s gaze. “Were you hit?”
Emily stared at the blood, her eyes widening. She patted her chest and abdomen and let out a sigh. “It’s not mine. I’m okay.” She struggled to stand. “How many minutes do we have left?” she demanded.
Mustang looked at his watch. “Five.”
“We have to help the others.” Emily ran for the door.
“Wait!” Mustang caught her arm, bringing her to a stop. “We don’t know if there are more guards.”
“I don’t care. There are nearly thirty drugged women that I know of belowdecks, as well as Sachi and Tyler Blunt. We can’t take the risk Viktor was bluffing. We have to get them out now. And some can’t get out on their own.” She shook free of his grasp and ran, heading down stairs into the bowels of the ship.
Mustang raced after her, leaping down the stairs two at a time.
“I’m right behind you,” Declan called out. “I’ll let the others know we’ll need help below.”
A couple decks below the bridge, Emily came to a halt. Women filled the hallway, some staggering, others leaning on those who could help.
Emily entered one of the doors, helped a woman to her feet and half carried, half dragged her out into the hallway. “This way,” Emily said and led the way up the stairs.
Mustang’s heart sank when he saw how many women there were in the small, dark room. He shot a glance at his watch. Four minutes. They could only do the best they could. He lifted a limp form off the floor and tossed it over his shoulder. “Follow me,” he said and looped an arm around a woman staggering in the hallway. He powered up the stairs, out onto the deck, refusing to let the struggling woman slow him down. Once he had them off the ship, he laid the limp woman on the ground. “Take care of her,” he said to the others.
Emily had already returned to the ship.
Three minutes.
Mustang passed Mack, Cole and Gus on their way out, helping two women each. Some of the ladies made it out on their own. When he returned to the lower deck, he found Sachi in the hallway. “Help me, please,” she said. “It’s Tyler. He’s hurt.” She led him into a different room where Tyler Blunt attempted to push to his feet.
“Get her out of here,” Tyler said as he leaned heavily against the wall.
“Tyler,” Sachi said, “I’m not leaving without you.” She hooked his arm over her shoulder.
Mustang looped the man’s other arm over his shoulder. Between him and Sachi, they got him up the stairs and out onto the deck.
“I can make it from here,” Tyler insisted. “Go. Help the others.”
With only two minutes remaining, Mustang returned to the lower deck, determined to find Emily and get her out before the ship exploded.
He passed Snow with a woman folded over his shoulder.
“Emily. Have you seen her?”
Snow jerked his head toward the rear. “She was checking the rest of the rooms on this corridor to make sure we didn’t leave anyone behind.”
“Hurry, get her out of here,” Mustang said, nodding at the woman on Snow’s shoulder. “We only have seconds to spare.”
“Same to you, man.” Snow ran down the corridor and up the stairs.
Emily emerged from a room at the end of the hallway. “The rooms are all empty except one.” She stood in front of one, her hand on the locking lever.
Deep voices sounded from inside, yelling in Russian.
Emily glanced at Mustang. “They were the men who kidnapped us and brought us to Viktor.”
“Go,” Mustang said. “Get out of here. We don’t have any time left.”
“What about them?” she asked, tilting her head at the door. “We can’t leave them to die.”
“I’ll let them out. But I don’t want you anywhere near.” He turned her toward the stairs. “The longer you take to leave, the more chance of them and me dying in the explosion. If you care at all for me, you’ll go.”
She shook her head, leaned up on her toes and kissed him full on the lips. “I care,” she said. “A lot. I’m going, but I don’t want to leave you here.” She turned and ran for the stairs.
Mustang grabbed the lock and shoved it to the side. Heaving a sigh, he spun the wheel handle.
As soon as it hit a full stop, the door erupted outward.
Mustang was ready. He jumped back and came out fighting. “Get out of here,” he yelled even as he blocked a right jab. “The ship is about to explode,” he warned.
The two men weren’t listening or couldn’t speak English. Either way, Mustang wouldn’t make it out in less than a minute. Not if he had to fight his way through the two men. But he wouldn’t go down without trying.
He threw a side kick, hitting the bigger guy in the gut. Then he spun and slugged the other man in the chin. Before he could cock his arm to swing again, he was caught from behind by the big guy and his arms were yanked behind him.
The man he’d just clocked in the chin balled his fists and snarled.
A shout in Russian from the other end of the corridor made all three men turn.
Emily stood like an avenging angel with her fists on her hips and her blue eyes blazing. She shouted again in Russian. The two men stared at her, eyes narrowing.
She spoke again, this time in a more urgent tone, and pointed upward.
The big guy said something to the one with his arms cocked, ready to throw a punch.
The man jabbed hard to Mustang’s middle, and then he turned and started toward Emily.
Pain made Mustang double over.
The big guy let go and shoved him forward. Then he ran and followed his partner.
Mustang swept out his foot, caught the big man’s ankle with his own and sent him sprawling across the narrow hallway and slamming into his partner.
Mustang stepped on top of both men on his way to Emily. He grabbed her hand and ran with her up the steps to the deck above.
They had just made it onto the gangway when the first explosion shook the ship.
The gangway rattled violently.
Mustang grabbed Emily around the waist and leaped for the dock. Behind him the gangway shuddered and buckled, falling into the water.
“Run!” Mustang shouted. Holding Emily’s hand, he rushed with her, aiming for the other side of a huge stack of shipping containers.
As he reached the stack, another explosion rumbled inside the ship and then fire and debris shot out of the middle of the stacks of containers, flinging metal shrapnel in every direction.
Mustang pushed Emily behind the containers and dove in after her.
All the women and the rest of his team had taken cover behind the stacks of giant metal boxes.
Mustang didn’t relax until he could see every one of Declan’s Defenders. Sachi and Tyler were there, too.
He lay on the ground beside Emily, laughter bubbling up his throat.
Emily leaned up on one elbow and frowned down at him. “What’s so funny?”
He pulled Emily into his arms and kissed her hard. “Nothing. I’m just so thankful you made it out alive. And, wow, I wish you could have seen yourself shouting at the Russians.” A chuckle escaped his chest, relieving the past two days of stress he’d been under. “You were amazing.” He kissed her again. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Thank you for shooting Viktor and not me,” she said and chuckled. “You had me worried for a moment there.”
“I had me worried.” He smoothed a hand through her hair. “I’ve never met a woman as courageous as you.”
“And I’ve never met a man who is as determined as you are to keep me safe.” She cupped his chin in her palm and brushed her lips across his in a butterfly-soft kiss. “Where do we go from here, now that we know who was behind the attacks on me, Jay and Tyler? I won’t need a bodyguard anymore.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Now that I’ve found you, I won’t let you go. I can’t. I think I’m falling in love with you.”