Hot Shot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#5) (29 page)

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

He spread his hands wide. “And yet I am not, as you can see.”

“Your compound exploded. You were in it.”

“Ah yes.” He took a puff of the cigar. “Fortunately, I had a hardened shelter built in the basement for just such emergencies. I would have been here sooner had we not needed to dig ourselves out of the collapsed rubble. Your people caused much damage in their zeal.”

She lifted her chin. “Where are my son and his nanny? And what have you done with my bodyguard?”

Stavros snorted. “Your bodyguard? I think you mean your lover, Gina
mou
.” He shook his head and tsked. “I am very disappointed in you. Me not even cold in my grave and you took a lover.”

“What do you want from me?”

Stavros stood and jerked his head at the man, who then turned and left, closing the door behind him. Gina’s heart pounded hard, but she swallowed and told herself to keep her wits about her. They were still in DC. She’d been driven to this palatial estate in the northwest of the city. And then she’d been made to sit in a room with Stavros’s thug guarding her for two, maybe three hours, until she’d been brought into this room.

A chill snaked down her spine and she shivered. Eli, Jack, and Cassie were still missing. Or Eli and Cassie were, anyway. Perhaps the man had lied and Jack had gotten away. She prayed it was so, because then he would come for her.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. She’d accused him of killing people, as if he were the criminal instead of one of the good guys.

“I want my wife to be faithful. Is that so much to ask?”

She wanted to object that she wasn’t his wife, but she didn’t want to antagonize him. She had to think fast on her feet, but the trouble was that he terrified her and she had no idea what would set him off next. She made her voice soft.

“Where are they, Stavros?”

He shrugged as he went over to the window, jamming his hands in his pockets as he looked out onto the lawn. Lights lit the perimeter in a soft glow. She had no doubt there were guards stationed along that perimeter.
 

“The boy is fine. His nanny has been most helpful, by the way.” He turned back to her, a smile curling one corner of his mouth. The kind of smile that said he was ridiculously pleased with himself. “It took me a very long time to insert her into your life. A very long time.”

Gina’s stomach turned to stone. “I… I don’t understand.”
 

“Dear Cassie is a Metaxas, my love. Did you not ever see it?”

She felt faint. “I… No, I didn’t.”

“Her mother is a cousin… I forget how far removed.” He waved a hand. “This does not matter. She is a Metaxas, and the family comes first. Cassie knows this quite well.”

“You sent her to me so you could kidnap my baby?” Betrayal was a hard pill to swallow. She’d liked Cassie, trusted her, felt
sorry
for her. She’d brought Cassie back into her life today to take care of her most precious possession. She’d brought the spider into her home.

Gina reeled. She realized now that Cassie must have handed Eli over and then made up a story about being cornered. If she walked into this room, Gina would launch herself at the woman’s throat.

“I sent her to watch you, Gina. Until I was ready to claim Athenasios’s child. The kidnapping was rather inspired, don’t you think?” His eyes hardened. “And you deserved to suffer for what you’d done. It was the least you deserved.”

Gina shook her head, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep tears from falling. “I didn’t do anything, Stavros.”

“You kept the child a secret. You never would have told the truth.” His voice grew louder, his tone more adamant. “My mother does not deserve this. She lost her eldest son, her beloved boy, and she
will
have her grandchild.”

Gina bowed her head, trembling all over. She had to appease him. He was unbalanced, and fighting only made him angry. “Of course she will, Stavros.”

He stalked over and gripped her chin hard, forcing her to look at him. His fingers bit into her skin. “Who were those people who took you away from me on St. Margarethe and destroyed my property?” His dark eyes were black and fathomless.
 

“M…mercenaries. I hired mercenaries because I wasn’t certain you didn’t mean to kill me.”

His grip didn’t soften. “I should kill you, Gina
mou.
I may yet. But not before I’ve had my fill of you.”

Her insides turned to liquid. He was going to rape her, and she was going to have to pretend to enjoy it if she wanted her baby.
 

And Jack. Dear God, Jack. Would she ever see him again? Would she ever get to apologize for the things she’d said?
 

“I’ll do anything you want.”

“Of course you will, my love.” He let her go and reached for his zipper. “Right now, you can suck my cock. After that, perhaps I’ll allow you to see the boy.”

Her heart plummeted and her stomach churned with bile. She thought she would be sick. Tears sprang into her eyes until her vision went blurry. Cold, iron-hard fury scoured through her. Men who thought they had the right to demand sexual favors, who used their power to do so, made her want things that would otherwise horrify her. Their penises sliced off their bodies, for instance. Their balls shoved into their mouths. Their gruesome deaths.

“I won’t be your whore,” she choked out.
 

He laughed. “Oh, I think you will.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Then he turned it to her and pushed a button. There was a lock screen, of course, but it was one she’d seen before.
 

Jack.

“I have his phone, which means I have him. If you don’t do as I wish, he will be the first to die.” He put the phone back into his pocket and laughed as he reached into his trousers. “Up to you, my lovely wife, what happens to him now…”

* * *

Jack’s leg hurt like a son of a bitch. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that his head hurt too. He blinked, but his surroundings were dark. The last thing he remembered was tossing his keys to the valet so he could take off after Gina. He’d headed for the elevator, the doors had opened—and someone had hit him.

He listened, trying to make sense of where he was. There was the smell of oil and diesel, and… yes, a bobbing sensation. He was in a boat, in the engine room perhaps, or somewhere below the waterline. He lay on his side, curled up on a hard floor. He pushed himself upright carefully. His head swam a bit, but he took his time. Nausea swirled in his gut and he lifted a hand—well how about that? He wasn’t tied up. Stupid sons of bitches.

He gently probed his head. There was a knot at the back where someone had hit him pretty hard. He wondered how they’d gotten him out of the hotel without anyone noticing. Then he decided it didn’t matter.

What mattered was Gina. She’d been upset and she’d taken off. Had someone grabbed her too? Was she somewhere on this boat as well? Or was it just him they were after, and she was safe and well in her room with Eli and Cassie?

The feeling of utter despair that claimed him when he thought of Gina and Eli in danger made his stomach turn over again. He couldn’t lose them.
 

He groped his pockets, but his cell phone was gone. That was unfortunate since his team could track him that way once they figured out he was in trouble. Though he was on leave for a few days, he was still required to check in on a regular basis. When he didn’t, they’d start looking.

Finding him was another matter. He had to get out of here just as soon as he could stand.

When his stomach didn’t churn as much as it had been, he pushed to his feet. His hand shot out and encountered a wall when he stumbled. He stood there for a long moment, swallowing the nausea and listening for sound.

There was nothing—and then the engine spooled up and water churned against the hull. They were moving. But where?
 

He figured he’d been out for an hour, maybe more. Logically, he was on the Potomac or the Chesapeake. His money was on the Potomac. The Washington Harbor was close to the hotel, and it made the most sense.

He groped his way around the room, feeling the walls. There were boxes in one corner, and shelves along another. He found the door finally, and he tugged on the handle. It was locked.

He made his way along the opposite wall, feeling for anything he could use as a weapon. When his fingers closed around a net, he clutched it, pulling it toward him. It was long and heavy, and he shook it out until he could find the edge. He tugged it with him as he continued to explore. There was nothing else, but he found the door again and sank back against the wall to wait. He held the net against him, his fingers curled around the edges. After a while he wanted to go to sleep, but he knew he couldn’t, so he pushed upright again and made himself stand on one leg and then the other. Anything to keep alert.

He didn’t know how long he waited, but eventually the engine cut to a dull idle. His senses ticked up then, because if anyone were coming for him, now would be the time. He waited for long minutes until he almost thought he was wrong—and then a key turned in the lock and his body tensed.

A light flicked on, blinding him, but he blinked against it and prepared to spring when the door opened. His eyes watered and the light stabbed into his brain, making his head pound even worse. But he had one chance to get out of here. One chance to find Gina and Eli.

The door scraped open on rusty hinges—and Jack lunged, flinging the net over the body that came through. A man roared as he went down and the gun in his hand discharged. The arm holding the gun was still free of the net and Jack grabbed the weapon, twisting it out of the man’s grip before landing a blow to his head that made him go limp.

If there was another man behind this one, Jack was done for since his gut churned and his head swam and he needed a minute to focus. But no one else came, and Jack shoved the body into the room before turning off the light and closing the door. The key was still in the lock, so he twisted it and pulled it free, locking the man inside. Then he crept down the dimly lit passageway, listening for sounds of other people.

The boat was old and big, appeared to be a fishing boat of some kind, quite possibly for taking massive groups of tourists out at once. He revised his estimate of the Potomac and decided he was on the Chesapeake. His kidnappers must have drugged him, which meant he’d been out longer than an hour.
 

Fear rolled through him. If Gina had been the target—and he was pretty certain she had—she could be anywhere by now. But he wasn’t giving up. He would find her, and he’d kill the motherfuckers who thought they could take her away from him.

He went up a set of stairs and listened for movement. All was silent, but he smelled cigarette smoke. He checked the weapon—a nine mil with a nearly full clip—and prepared to burst through the door.

After counting to ten in his head, he kicked the door open and emerged topside. Two men whirled, hands reaching for weapons, and Jack fired, taking them down before they had a chance to draw. He battled his nausea and a sense of dread as he checked the rest of the boat. It
was
a fishing boat, and he was the only passenger aside from the guards. One man was locked in the hold and these two were dead. He bent over and sucked in a breath, blinking back the agony of a blinding headache.

A check of the GPS indicated they were on the Chesapeake, southeast of Annapolis. The depth readings here were 174 feet. He had no doubt what they’d intended to do with him. The net, some concrete blocks maybe, and good night, sweet prince.

He throttled up the engine and steered for the nearest harbor. A quick check of one of the bodies landed him a cell phone. He checked the other, just in case they had his, but that was a no-go. Fortunately, the phone numbers he needed were imprinted on his brain. He punched in the numbers one-handed and pushed the throttle higher.

“Girard,” came the answer on the other end.

“Hey there, Richie,” he yelled over the roar of the wind and the engine’s chugging. “Got a situation here.”

“What, another one? Where the hell are you?”

“Yes, sir, another one. And I’m on the Chesapeake, making for harbor. Two dead, one captured.”

“Son of a bitch. All right, I’ll round up the posse. Give me your coordinates and we’ll get it cleaned up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

GINA WAS PARALYZED. She knew she needed to drop to her knees and do what Stavros wanted, but she was frozen. He stood there with his hand in his trousers, stroking himself, and she hated him so much in that moment that she wished she could kill him with her bare hands.

“Gina
mou,
I’m waiting,” he said none too gently.

She pulled in a breath, and then another, willing herself to comply. To be the biddable woman he wanted until she could ensure her child’s safety. And Jack’s, though she didn’t know that Stavros would keep his word. For all she knew, Jack was already dead. Her heart cried out at that thought.

“I need more than a phone,” she cried. “I need to see Eli. And I need proof that Jack is still alive.”

Stavros’s face turned dark with rage. He lashed out and grabbed her hair, twisting his hand into the heavy mass and jerking her forward. Gina screamed.