Navy SEAL Survival (14 page)

Duff fitted the headset earbud into his ear, tucked the pistol into the waistband of his khaki shorts and draped his T-shirt over the bulge.

Montana and Quentin did the same.

Grabbing the larger two-way radio from Lance, Duff nodded. “Thanks.”

“Thank me by getting Nat out of this alive. We'd like to have her come back to work for us.”

Duff didn't hang around to find out who “us” was. He had to get to the address Lance had indicated before the kidnappers moved the women. “We have one more man traveling back on the tour bus, Sawyer Houston. Could you fill him in on the operation?”

Lance nodded and tipped his head toward the weapons they carried. “Remember, if you get caught with those weapons, the Mexican government will throw you in jail and destroy the key. And you didn't get them from me.”

Duff threw open the door and hurried out, followed by Montana and Quentin.

They returned to the rented Jeep and climbed in. Montana drove while Duff pulled up the map on his smartphone.

Five minutes from their destination, Lance's voice crackled through the radio. “Natalie is on the move. How close are you?”

Duff's fist clenched around the radio. “Five minutes based on my GPS and traffic.”

“You don't have five minutes. Be on the lookout for a vehicle that could be carrying them. They appear to be heading northeast.”

Montana shot through a stop sign and floored the accelerator.

Quentin leaned over the back of Montana's seat, peering through the windshield.

“Turn left at the next corner,” Duff said.

Montana took the corner too fast and the Jeep slid on loose gravel.

Duff hung on to the door handle and prayed they'd get there on time. “At the next street, turn right.”

“Natalie is moving fast,” Lance said into the handheld radio.

His heart racing, Duff leaned forward, his gaze swinging left and right.

As they neared the next corner, a black van flew threw the intersection.

Montana stomped on the brakes. The Jeep slid toward the van, stopping in time to avoid hitting another open-topped Jeep following the van.

Four men rode in the trailing vehicle, armed with rifles. They aimed them at Montana, Duff and Quentin.

Montana swerved to the right, away from the armed men.

The rapid fire of automatic weapons screamed through the air.

Duff, Montana and Quentin ducked as bullets blasted through the windshield of their Jeep. Montana jerked the steering wheel in time to keep from ramming into the corner of a building.

The vehicle trailing the van spun in a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn and raced back toward the SEALs.

“Get out and get down!” Duff yelled.

Montana slammed on the brakes, shoved the Jeep into park and all three men dived to the ground. Duff rolled beneath the Jeep, pulled his weapon from the waistband of his pants and opened fire on the oncoming vehicle.

The man carrying the automatic weapon ducked but let loose a stream of bullets, hitting the rented Jeep.

Montana, SEAL Boat Team's sniper, cursed and opened fire with the loaned weapon. “Need my damned rifle. This toy doesn't have the range.”

Quentin waited until the vehicle was in range and opened fire.

Duff took careful aim and hit one of the men holding an automatic rifle. The man collapsed against one of the others, knocking his aim off, his bullets sailing wide of their target.

Montana took out another one of the men. The driver spun the SUV around and raced away.

Duff rolled to his feet. The van had disappeared. He ran for the Jeep and jumped in. “Let's go!”

Montana leaped into the Jeep, shifted gears and gunned the accelerator as Quentin threw himself into the back.

The Jeep leaped forward, pulling hard to the left.

“What's wrong?”

Montana leaned out the window as he struggled to keep the vehicle headed straight down the road. “We took a hit to the left front tire.” Montana shook his head, slowing to a stop. “We won't catch them on a flat tire.”

“Damn!” Duff shoved open his door and leaped out.

Between the three of them they changed the flat tire almost as fast as a pit crew in a race. But by the time they climbed into the vehicle the other two were long gone. The sound of a police siren wailing in the distance made their decision for them.

“We have to get out of here. We don't have the time to answer questions that will only lead to one or all of us landing in jail.”

Montana slammed the shift into drive and raced in the opposite direction of the sirens. With Duff telling him which way to turn, they managed to elude the Mexican authorities and eventually parked in a dingy alley behind a deserted building.

Duff grabbed the two-way radio. “They got away and we had to hide to avoid the Mexican authorities. Where is Natalie now?”

“You're not going to like this,” Lance said.

“I don't care if I'll like it or not. Where is she?”

“So far, she's still moving. I'm working on an exact location. From what I can tell, she's somewhere off the Mexican coast headed in the direction of Cozumel.”

Chapter Thirteen

The men had returned to the warehouse just when Natalie and Kylie had gotten most of the movement back in their muscles. This time eight men entered. Two women against eight men didn't stand a chance, especially when all eight of the men carried weapons.

Natalie forced her body to remain limp, her eyes almost all the way shut. She could see through her eyelashes, but not well enough to make an escape. Even if she could, she wouldn't try to make a run for it. She couldn't leave Kylie behind.

Four of the men moved toward them. One turned her onto her back and reached for her arms while another grabbed her legs. They swung her up and carried her toward the open doorway and the glaring Mexican sunlight. Though she faked being unconscious, her ears were actively listening to ensure they weren't separating her and Kylie.

A loud scream rent the air. Through the crack of her eyelids, Natalie saw Kylie struggle as two men fought to subdue her. Another man ran toward them and jabbed a needle into Kylie's arm.

Natalie's heart sank. While she might have immediate use of her arms and legs, it would be hours before Kylie regained the use of hers. She'd have to bide her time and come up with a plan to free the girl. She hoped wherever they were taking them, she'd have that opportunity.

The man carrying her tossed her into a waiting van. Natalie flopped onto the hard metal floor and lay still. Kylie's limp form landed on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs. She refused to budge in case one of the two men who climbed into the back of the van with them noticed she wasn't actually unconscious. The driver climbed in, another man with a gun took the front passenger seat and the van lurched forward.

They hadn't gone far when the driver swerved sharply then straightened.

The man riding shotgun cursed and urged the driver to go faster. The two men in the rear of the van moved to the back window, their weapons held at the ready position.

Natalie heard the squeal of another vehicle's tires. The two men watching through the rear windows of the van cursed and shouted to the men up front. The muffled rumble of automatic weapons loosing a round of bullets reached her through the open front windows of the van.

Natalie's pulse raced. Had her Navy SEAL already caught up with them?

The driver gunned the accelerator, taking corners dangerously fast. The van slid sideways at one point, throwing her two armed guards into the side wall of the vehicle. They leaped to their feet and resumed their positions staring out the rear windows.

If the SEALs had found them, were they prepared to defend themselves against automatic weapons? She prayed they were okay and that the driver of the van they were in didn't crash into a building trying to get away from the firefight.

Soon the van slowed, entered a darkened tunnel or building and came to a stop. The driver cut off the motor. He and the other three men climbed out of the van and spoke to someone else. They sounded angry, their Spanish coming too fast for Natalie to translate.

She faced the open sliding door of the van. Through the narrow crack of her eyelids, she saw two men carrying another man. They dropped him onto the ground and straightened, their faces angry and blood-spattered.

Two more men carried another and laid him next to the first.

Natalie figured there were now six men where there had been eight. Still, six heavily armed men were overwhelming odds when it was just her and an unconscious college coed.

The loud rumble of an engine roaring to life echoed through the dark building. By the sound of it, a marine engine like one used on a high-speed jet boat. Natalie cringed. The farther away from Cancun they went, the harder it would be for Lance to track her and for anyone to come to her and Kylie's rescue. Lance would have to call in the big guns and Royce would have to mobilize more resources to free them. Natalie's Navy SEALs were on vacation. They wouldn't have the firepower to take on this elaborate human trafficking operation.

Natalie fought an overwhelming bout of dread and hopelessness. She couldn't give up. Kylie and Melody depended on her to keep a level head and to think through all her options.

The men returned to the van and one scooped Kylie off Natalie, threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold and carried her away.

Another man grabbed Natalie's arm and yanked her up and over his shoulder. With the man's hands holding her thigh clamped to his chest, he carried her toward a waiting boat and dumped her into the arms of another man on deck.

It took total concentration to pretend to be unconscious when the man could as easily have missed and let her crash to the deck. But he caught her, carried her down some steps into a cabin and dumped her onto a bunk. Kylie lay on the other bunk, her eyes closed.

The man left the cabin, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Natalie studied the room before moving, searching for any hidden cameras. When she determined there were none, she sat up and left her bunk to check on Kylie. She pressed her fingers to the base of the young woman's neck and felt the reassuring beat of Kylie's pulse. She lay motionless, but her chest rose and fell with each breath. She was drugged but alive.

The engines throbbed beneath Natalie's feet and the vessel jerked forward as the boat left its mooring.

Natalie rubbed the spot between her toes where Lance had injected her with the tracking device. Locked in a boat's cabin, headed out to sea, their options for escape had considerably narrowed. But, hell, they eventually had to stop somewhere to fuel up, if nothing else. She'd make her escape then. In the meantime she had to find out as much as possible about this boat, the human trafficking operation and where they were taking the women.

Natalie closed her eyes and prayed—something she hadn't done much of since her parents died.

Please let me find Melody and get her and Kylie out of this mess.

* * *

D
UFF
, M
ONTANA
AND
Quentin headed for the nearest marina. Ditching the bullet-pocked Jeep behind a building two blocks from their destination, they continued on foot. They stopped at a shop and purchased a straw beach bag and colorful beach towels. Wrapping their pistols in the towels, they stuffed them into the bag, along with the handheld radio. Quentin carried the bag as they approached a dive shop at the marina.

Lance had informed them Sawyer had returned with the tour bus. He'd been full of questions, wanting to know where they were and what the hell had happened. Lance had filled him in and then given Duff the location of the marina. He and Sawyer would be at the marina's dive shop before them.

Duff entered the shop at the marina, not sure what to expect.

Sawyer stood beside Lance who spoke in fluent Spanish with the owner.

Four tanks and four buoyancy control devices lay across the floor at Lance's feet and it appeared he was negotiating with the owner for more items.

Duff edged up to Sawyer. “I take it we're going on a diving excursion.”

Sawyer grinned. “Yup.”

“Won't we need a boat?” Duff asked.

“Lance's boss has arranged for one.”

Apparently, Lance's boss had connections. “Any idea who his boss is?”

Sawyer shook his head and glanced down at Duff's skinned knees. “Looks like you took a beating.”

Duff shrugged. “I've been through worse.”

Lance completed his negotiations and handed the man a wad of American bills. The owner shoved it into his pocket.

Transaction complete, Lance turned toward Duff and his team. “Let's get this gear on board and test it out before we leave.”

Duff didn't ask Lance where they were going. He grabbed a mask, fins, snorkel, tank and buoyancy control vest, heavy with weights, and carried them outside the building.

Lance led the way along the dock to a beautiful forty-foot luxury yacht.

“This belongs to your boss?” Montana asked.

“No. He has friends in high places. This boat is on loan.” Lance's lips twisted. “We're under orders to treat it nicely.”

Quentin nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Now this is what I call traveling in style.”

They loaded the gear into the yacht and tested all the diving equipment before going any farther.

Once all the devices passed muster, Lance stepped up to the helm. “I could drive this boat, but I'll bet one of you would do a better job while I man the tracking device.”

“I'll drive,” Duff said. As a member of SEAL Boat Team 22, he'd been trained to operate a variety of military watercraft. Growing up near Port Aransas, he'd had the opportunity to operate a variety of fishing boats, as well. Duff knew his way around small seafaring vessels, but never anything as luxurious as this. He sat in the cushioned seat and fired up the engine. “Has Natalie's motion stopped?”

“Not yet. She appears to be heading in the general direction of Cozumel. There aren't a lot of private islands between here and there, so it might be where they're heading.” Lance pulled a tracking device from a bag he'd carried on board and switched the power on.

The green blinking dot was only slightly reassuring to Duff. Not until he had Natalie alive and safe in his arms would he feel any sense of relief.

Carefully maneuvering the luxury yacht out of the port, Duff set it on course for Cozumel, following Lance's directions.

“The boss mentioned there's a safe below,” Lance informed them. “He said we could find everything we might need in it. The combination is nine, one, one, two, zero, zero, one.”

“I'll check it out.” Montana started down the steps to the cabin below.

“I'll go with you,” Quentin said. “The idea of a safe on board intrigues me.” He followed Montana.

Duff, intent on navigating, didn't look away from the water in front of him. The busy port required all of his attention until he cleared the majority of the cruise ships and small touring watercraft. When he heard a whoop of excitement, he couldn't help but shoot a glance toward the cabin below.

“The last information I gave Natalie was about the identities of the kissing couple from the night before and Rolf. Did you see any of them at the ruins?”

“No. But tell me what you learned.” Duff's fingers tightened on the wheel as Lance filled him in on Rex Masters and the couple Duff and Natalie saw kissing outside the bungalow, Frank “Sly” Jones and Cassandra Teirney.

When Lance finished, Duff asked, “Do you think Rex is responsible for the missing women?”

“I don't know. Why would Jones dance with other women when he had a girlfriend stashed in one of the bungalows?”

“You're not going to believe what I found.” Quentin emerged carrying a submachine gun. Montana ascended carrying a black wetsuit and mask, an array of dive knives, scabbards and more.

“This isn't all of it,” Quentin said. “There's also C4 and detonators.”

“You're kidding,” Duff said.

Montana grinned. “I'm happy to report he's not.”

Sawyer lifted one of the cushioned seats at the back of the yacht and whistled. “You're not going to believe this.”

“What?” Montana hurried to where Sawyer stood staring down into a large storage compartment.

Quentin joined them. “I'll be damned.”

Duff, tied to his duties as helmsman, twisted in his seat. “What did you find?”

Sawyer didn't answer, but glanced at Montana. “You grab one end, I'll get the other.” Together, they lifted out a long, sleek, metal device almost the length of one of the men.

Duff shot a glance toward Lance. “Who
is
your boss's friend?”

Lance chuckled. “I never know. But that's a state-of-the-art, military-grade diver propulsion device capable of propelling three or four divers at a time.”

“I know what it is,” Duff said. “What private citizen owns one of those?”

Looking away, Lance answered, “My boss has amazing connections all over the world.”

Duff's eyes narrowed. “Who is your boss?”

Lance gave Duff a twisted grin. “Sorry. I'm not at liberty to say. I'd have to get clearance from him.”

Duff snorted. “At least tell me he's not a drug lord or someone on the wrong side of the law.”

Natalie's friend stared across at Duff, all humor wiped from his face. “He's one of the good guys. Our organization fights
for
justice and
against
corruption.”

“Good to know.” Duff accepted Lance's word at face value. He appeared to mean what he said with a passion of conviction Duff had only seen in members of the military, in particular, members of the SEALs. “From what I've seen so far, you take care of your own.”

“Damn right we do. Natalie would do the same for me or anyone else on the team, even though she hasn't been an active member for the past two years. She left her mark, and it was a good one.”

Duff didn't doubt that in the least. She'd been hell-bent on rescuing her sister, but when her sister's friends were in equal danger, she'd looked out for them, as well. And she wasn't afraid of anything.

His lips twitched.

Except heights.

“How much of a lead do they have on us?” Duff asked.

Lance pulled a laptop out of his satchel and fired it up. Within seconds he had the tracking blip overlaid with a satellite map. “They have a forty-five-minute lead. And they're in a fast boat equal to the speed of this one. Until they stop, we won't catch up.”

“Then we'll have to hope they stop soon.”

“We won't be able to overtake them in daylight,” Lance commented. “They could be heavily armed.”

“That's just as well. We do our best work in the dark. And with this equipment and arsenal at our disposal, we can make a go of almost any situation.”

“Even if they have an army of guards?” Lance asked.