Sweet Revenge (28 page)

Their speed slowed abruptly; Jamie got to her feet and went to stand beside Dylan. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re approaching La Rosa. And Mrs. Reddington was right. The boat’s almost out of gas.”

“What’s the plan?”

He gave her a grave, thoughtful glance. “Can you swim?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t want to risk attracting attention by pulling into a marina. I doubt that Reddington’s aware of our absence yet, but just in case, I think it’ll be safer if we head to the opposite side of the island away from the marinas, abandon the boat, and then swim the rest of the way.”

“What about the flash drives? They can’t get wet.”

He held out his hand. “Give them here. I’ve got some plastic ziplock bags. I’ll double-bag them, wrap them in clothing, and put them in my backpack. They’ll be fine.”

Jamie withdrew the drives from the pouch around her waist and dropped them into Dylan’s hand.

“Hold the wheel steady while I get these ready. We’ll need to be prepared to jump within the next couple of minutes.”

Jamie stood at the wheel and watched the island come closer. Was anyone waiting for them to arrive, hoping to catch them for Reddington? They’d come this far; she refused to let anyone or anything stop them now.

The engine stuttered. “Dylan?”

He was beside her in an instant and shut off the engine. “Okay. Looks like this is it.” He glanced down at her, the darkness of his expression telling her he was worried. “I checked. The bastard has no life preservers on the boat.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Take your shoes off and tie the laces together.”

While she did this, Dylan pulled his off and did the same thing.

“I’m going to tie a ski rope around your waist and loop it to my belt. The current shouldn’t be too strong right now, but I’m not going to take any chances. Okay?”

She nodded and then, unable to stop the impulse, leaned up and kissed his mouth. “We’re going to be fine.”

Instead of deepening the kiss, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight against his chest. Treasuring the moment, Jamie relaxed into him; she inhaled musky masculine sweat and the scent of the ocean. Of all the moments they’d shared, this was one of the most special.

Dropping his arms, he said, “Okay, sweetheart, let’s get out of here.”

She followed him to the edge, and while he tied the rope around her waist, she looked out toward the land. Was that someone walking on the beach? She stiffened as she saw two more people, each coming from a different direction.

“Dylan. Look.”

At the sound of urgency in Jamie’s voice, Dylan’s head jerked up. Unzipping his backpack, he pulled out a small pair of binoculars and focused on the beach. Hellfire. Three men armed with what looked like AK-47s stood on the shore, waiting for them.

Replacing the binoculars in the pack, Dylan quickly untied the rope around Jamie’s waist.

“What are you doing?”

Draping the backpack over her shoulders, he took one arm at a time and fastened the snaps at her chest. Then, working with amazing speed, he took the shoes she held, and looped and tied them around one strap of the backpack.

“Dylan?”

“I’ll draw their fire. You head in the other direction.” He nodded toward a small copse of trees farther down the beach. “Hide there. I’ll come for you as soon as I lose them.”

“Like hell, Dylan. I’m not going to let you—”

His grabbed the backpack’s straps and jerked her close. “We don’t have time to argue. I can swim underwater and escape them.”

“But I—”

“Please, Jamie. For once, don’t argue with me. Okay?”

The tilt of her chin didn’t bode well for her obedience, but Dylan had to trust that she’d follow his orders on this. He’d trained for this kind of escape scenario; she hadn’t.

Her eyes searched his and then, finally, thankfully, she nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

Using his body to block hers from the view of the men on the beach, he watched as she sat on the edge of the boat, slid down into the water, and began to swim toward the beach.

Dylan waited for a couple of minutes, until she was a good distance from the boat. Then, making as big a spectacle as possible, he went to the other side of the boat. Standing on the edge, he looked out at the men who stood on the beach waiting, apparently thinking he was going to swim right to them.

Taking a deep breath, he made a smooth, clean dive into the cool, crisp water and swam deep. It wasn’t until he leveled out that he saw the bullets zinging and scattering about him. Damn, these men meant business.

With the hope of getting out of their shooting range, Dylan swam away from the land, but his biggest concern was Jamie. Had she gotten away without them seeing her? Or were they shooting at her, too?

twenty-five

She heard the guns long before she reached land. Her strokes strong and steady, she gritted her teeth against the cool bite of the churning water and concentrated on her target: the white stretch of sand and trees in front of her. She wanted to turn around to see if she could spot Dylan. She wouldn’t. Of all the times she’d argued and disagreed with him, Jamie had recognized that this was one time when she needed to keep her mouth shut and do what she’d been told.

That didn’t mean she liked it or that she wouldn’t try to help him once she reached her destination. Dylan was so damn heroic, he’d stand in front of a firing squad and demand they shoot him before he allowed anyone else to be hurt. She loved him too much to let that happen.

The water wasn’t as choppy as she drew closer to the shore, but a strong current began to pull at her. She ground her teeth together and persevered. She and McKenna used to compete with each other when they were kids. McKenna was the faster swimmer, but Jamie was the stronger. She thanked God for that strength today.

Raising her head, she treaded water to check her distance. About forty yards and closing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. The gunmen were running down the beach, away from her. They were chasing Dylan.

With a renewed surge of energy and strength, Jamie took off again. Once she reached shore, she needed to figure out a way to distract the men so Dylan could get onto the beach. He couldn’t stay beneath the water much longer. She refused to acknowledge that he’d already had to surface. And that when he had, bullets might have hit him. She couldn’t let herself think that.

Her foot hit something, and relief mingled with exhaustion. The water was shallow enough that she could touch the bottom. Lowering her legs, she waded toward the shore. Though every muscle in her body ached and her breath rasped painfully through her lungs, she couldn’t allow herself to rest. She had to figure out a way to help Dylan.

Her legs, shaky and weak, stumbled to find footing. She was grateful for the shoes tied around the backpack. Running barefoot would’ve been tough.

Now ankle-deep in the water, she felt her legs give out, and she fell to her knees. Crawling the last few feet, she collapsed onto the sand. Though she was exhausted and dizzy, she refused to give herself any time for recovery. Dylan’s life was in danger.

Rolling over onto her back, she sat up and pulled at the backpack. Her arms were so rubbery, it took three tries. At last able to pull the pack off, she untied her shoes. Her socks were soggy, but she couldn’t take the time to find dry ones in Dylan’s bag, if he even had any. She had to get going.

With her shoes on, Jamie stood and tested her legs. Yes, they were shaky, but they would work.

Making a note of the area where she’d last seen the men, Jamie headed straight ahead into the tree-covered area. Once inside, she veered right. As she ran, maneuvering around trees and bushes, her mind came up with and then threw away every scenario she could think of. Confronting a group of armed men was out … they’d just shoot her. Finding the police and getting help would take too long. Waiting until she knew what she faced before she made a decision was her only option.

She reached the edge of the treed area. Peeking around a tall, thin palm, she spotted the three men easily. They were the only ones on the beach, and they held wicked-looking weapons. She could hear them talking as they gestured with their guns toward the water, but she couldn’t make out their words. Their voices sounded angry. She hoped that meant good things for Dylan.

A small sand dune behind the men had concrete steps; a sign beside them indicated that they led to a parking lot. Jamie turned back into the treed area and ran up the hill toward the parking lot. She stopped at the top and looked down into the almost empty lot. Two black SUVs were parked side by side. With her heart in her throat, her feet kicking up sand, she ran down the hill. Stopping at one of the SUVs, she tugged on the driver’s door … locked. She turned to the other and found the same. Hell, these men had submachine guns and they were afraid someone would steal their cars?

Frozen in indecision, Jamie looked around for something, anything. Rapid gunfire shocked her into action. She looked down, picked up the nearest and biggest rock she could find, and smashed the side windows of both vehicles. In an almost answering rhythm, alarms blared.

With the hope that she’d bought Dylan a little time, Jamie darted under one of the vehicles and prayed with all her might that no one would look underneath. She saw big, booted feet run toward her. The men yelled and snapped at one another, gesturing with their guns as they discussed who’d broken their windows. Finally, two of the men headed back to the beach. Another man stood guard in front of the vehicles. Could she handle one man?
Yes
.

Sliding out on the other side of the SUV from the man, Jamie came at him from behind. She kicked him hard in the back. When he stumbled forward, she took advantage of his loss of balance, jumped onto his back, and wrapped an arm around his neck. He dropped his gun; his fingers and hands tore at her arms as he whirled around and around, trying to shake her off. Gritting her teeth, ignoring the scratches and gouges from his nails on her tender skin, she determinedly hung on as she pressed her forearm hard into his throat. At last she felt him weakening; his leg buckled beneath him and he fell forward.

Letting go, she jumped to her feet and grabbed the gun. The man lay unmoving, unconscious or dead; she didn’t know which. If he was dead, there wasn’t anything she could do. If he was unconscious, that was what she wanted.

Jamie examined the giant gun. She had never seen anything like it before. However, she knew which end to point, and, if she had to, she could damn well press a trigger and shoot. Pulling in a deep breath, she ran across the parking lot, toward the two men over the hill. She never saw the body flying toward her until it tackled her and took her to the ground. The gun skidded across the pavement.

Doing his best to lessen the impact, Dylan twisted and took the brunt of the fall. He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d managed to reach the two men. She’d been holding the AK-47 in the most awkward way he’d ever seen anyone hold a gun. He hadn’t known any way to get her attention before they saw her, other than to tackle her.

Showing him that she wasn’t going to give up without a fight, she squirmed and bucked beneath him. “Let me go, you bastard.”

“Jamie, it’s me.”

She froze. “Dylan?”

“Yeah.”

With both of them gasping so hard he could barely hear anything else, Dylan loosened his hold on her and got to his knees. “Are you hurt?”

She rolled onto her back. “No, I’m fine.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here before they come back to check on their man.”

“How?”

“Let’s see if the big lug you took out has keys. If not, I’ll hot-wire it. We’ll be out in a flash.”

She got to her knees and then her feet. Once up, she swayed slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little tired.”

The need to hug her and tell her how damn proud he was of her was strong. He made do with a grin as he held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s find a place to hide, and then we’ll get some rest.”

Wrapping an arm around her, he led her back to where the man lay on the pavement.

“Is he dead?”

The tentative tone in her voice told him she didn’t really want to know. Determined to lie to her if the man was dead, Dylan bent down and pressed a finger to his neck. He was thankful to be able to reply truthfully, “No.”

A check of the man’s pockets gave him what he needed: a set of keys. He stood and pressed the unlock switch on the car key to see which vehicle it belonged to. Then he held out his hand to Jamie. “Let’s go.”

Ushering Jamie into the passenger seat, he quietly pressed the door closed. Even though time was of the essence, he took a few moments to open the hood of the other SUV and rip out the plug wires. Satisfied that this would delay any kind of chase, he ran to the driver’s side of the other vehicle and cranked up the motor, thankful that it was the quiet, purring kind. Backing out of the parking lot, he glanced over at Jamie and grinned. “I’m hungry. How about you?”

Though her laughter held the hint of a shaky sob, she nodded and said, “Anything but fish. I think I swallowed two during my swim.”

“Steak it is.”

Several thoughts hit Dylan as he headed down a narrow, two-lane road. Reddington probably had men all over the city looking for them. Every part of his body ached like a sore tooth. To make matters worse, he was lost and had no idea where he was going. One thing he knew for certain, though, was that there was absolutely no one he’d rather have at his side than the gutsiest woman he’d ever known: Jamie Kendrick.

Last Chance Rescue headquarters

Noah grabbed the phone on the first ring. He’d been on edge for a couple of days, ever since Raphael had called him. “McCall.”

“It’s me.”

The gruff, raspy voice barely sounded human, much less like Savage. “You and Jamie okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Since you know about Jamie, I’m assuming you heard from Raphael?”

“Yes. He’s in Paris and he’s safe.”

“Good. And we’ve got some intel you’ll be interested in.”

Noah blew out a ragged sigh. Hell no, the mission hadn’t gone down like a normal op. Still, knowing not only that everyone was okay but that they had the intel to put Reddington away improved his mood vastly.

“Where are you?”

“La Rosa.”

“Can you get out of there?”

“Not without attracting attention.”

“Give me a number. I’ll call as soon as I have an extraction plan.”

“Sounds good.” Dylan rattled off a number and then disconnected.

Pressing the End button, Noah then used speed dial for the one person who was even more on edge than he was.

McKenna answered, as he had, on the first ring. “Noah?” The fear in her voice was apparent.

“She’s safe … they’re both safe. I’m planning on an extraction tomorrow.”

She blew out a shaky, relieved breath. “I’m going, too.”

He didn’t bother to argue with her. “I’ll call you with the details as soon as I have them.”

“And she’s really okay?”

“Yes. I heard it directly from Dylan.”

“Thank you, Noah. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Noah closed his phone and set to work. Reddington might well have friends in the city, but LCR had something he didn’t have: the best people in the world. And when it came to LCR operatives rescuing their own, no one else came close.

Dylan dismantled the disposable phone and dropped the pieces in the garbage can. Before they’d checked into the hotel, he’d purchased two. Noah would call on the other one once he had plans in place.

He glanced over at Jamie, who was curled up in a ball on the bed, fast asleep. They’d driven outside the city, into a smaller community. The people of La Rosa weren’t wealthy, but they were friendly and helpful—at least the ones not carrying guns. He’d stopped and asked for directions to a place to stay and had been directed to a small hotel. The manager had been only too happy to take his euros and arrange for a meal to be sent up.

Jamie had been at his side the entire time. Yeah, they’d both looked like bedraggled sea demons. Salt had dried on their hair, making it stiff and wild, and their wrinkled clothing smelled like dead seaweed. He didn’t want to attract attention, but he wouldn’t leave her alone again.

Knowing she was in the ocean by herself, battling choppy waves and possibly attracting the attention of the gunmen, had been torturous. Of course, when he’d watched her take down a man holding an AK-47, a man twice her size, the word “fear” had taken on a new meaning. Dylan was running toward her when it went down. He hadn’t been close enough to help and couldn’t shout at her. Seeing her leap onto the man’s back and choke him into unconsciousness was a memory he’d never get out of his head.

Never, in his entire life, had he known anyone like Jamie. Even when the odds were against her, even when she wasn’t qualified or trained to do something … or hell, even when someone else could get the job done, she didn’t stop.

A small muttering sound caught his attention. She was dreaming, maybe even having a nightmare. After what she’d been through, not having nightmares would have been strange.

As soon as they’d gotten to their room, she’d gone into the bathroom. Five minutes later, she’d emerged with one towel around her body, another wrapping her hair. She’d grimaced. “Had to take a shower.”

He’d been about to ask her how she felt when he saw her arms. They were covered in scratches and cuts. “What happened to your arms?”

She shrugged. “That man I jumped.”

He’d wanted to growl at her for being so foolish and hug her for being so damn brave. And he’d wanted to know where she’d gotten that kind of training. He hadn’t taught her how to choke a man into unconsciousness. But the whiteness of her face and the tension around her mouth had stopped all questions. She needed rest … the talking could come later.

She moved restlessly and then blinked her sleepy eyes open. “Aren’t you tired?”

Her voice was raspy and rough, as was his. Swallowing and choking on copious amounts of seawater will do that to a throat.

“Yeah, a little. I called McCall.”

“Did you tell him what we have?”

“Yeah. He’ll call back tomorrow with a plan to get us out of here.”

“Did he say anything about McKenna?”

He almost smiled at the timidity in her voice. She could take down a man twice her size without blinking an eye, but facing her sister’s wrath was something she was obviously dreading.

“No, but I’m sure he called and told her you were fine.”

She rolled over onto her back and sighed. “She’s going to be so pissed.”

There was no denying that. McKenna had been under the impression that Jamie was teaching school in Louisiana. Instead, she’d been halfway across the world, in the middle of the enemy’s camp, single-handedly performing her very own sting operation.

They still hadn’t talked about exactly how all of this had taken place. “How long were you working on the island?” he asked now.

“Only a few weeks.”

“How’d you do it?”

She released a ragged sigh. “When I was locked up in Reddington’s room, as you know, I overheard a lot of things. Once, during his daily conversation with his wife, they discussed the need for a new teacher for their young daughter, Amelia. I only heard Reddington’s side of the conversation, but from the sound of it, Mrs. Reddington wasn’t pleased with the teaching methods of her current teacher. Mrs. Reddington had specific requirements she wanted in Amelia’s new teacher. And Reddington agreed that by June of next year, she could start interviewing for a new one.”

“How did you know how to go about being interviewed?”

“He mentioned the agency he would use.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It didn’t really strike a chord with me at the time. I still thought that when I got out of there, Reddington could be prosecuted like an ordinary criminal. When I realized that wasn’t going to happen, the conversation took on more meaning.”

“That took fake IDs, a fake résumé, references. A hell of a lot of planning. How’d you pull that off?”

She sat up, propped a couple of pillows behind herself, and leaned against them. “After my rescue, during that month McKenna and I spent in Paris getting to know each other again, she told me about the men in Memphis who’d helped her with fake IDs. Settling things with my ex-husband took less time than I thought it would, so I flew to Memphis and made contact with them.”

By choice and habit, Dylan wasn’t a man who talked much. Now, for the first time he could remember, he was speechless. They’d shared that plane trip to the States. As he had sat beside her, thinking how vulnerable and fragile she was, she’d been planning this job.

Apparently not realizing that she had shocked him, she continued: “After my training with you was over, I was going to present everything to Noah. I knew that having LCR’s backing would help.”

She didn’t need to explain why that plan hadn’t panned out. He’d been instrumental in destroying it.

“I visited McKenna briefly after I left the cabin. I told her I was going to work in the States. That’s when I went back to Memphis. My fake stuff was waiting for me, but I still needed more training. So, I sent my résumé, which listed the specific things Mrs. Reddington wanted, to the agency Reddington planned to use, and while I waited, I trained more.”

“Who?”

“A couple of former military men had opened a gym in Memphis. McKenna told me she’d gotten a lot of her training in a similar way with a group of guys in Maryland. I figured these guys could teach me the same kind of stuff. When I showed them what I could do, what you had already taught me, they agreed to take me on as a special project.”

At some point, he knew, he was going to be immune to shock, but he wasn’t there yet.

“How could you be sure Reddington would hire you?”

“I wasn’t. But I heard enough to know what they were looking for in a teacher to stack the odds in my favor. Reddington wanted her to be single, with little or no family, and American. Mrs. Reddington wanted a woman in her early thirties, with master’s in both English literature and mathematics.

“With such specific requirements, I knew that the list of qualified candidates would be short. So I weighted my résumé with what I knew they wanted and then waited for them to contact me.”

“Did you know that he probably wouldn’t have let you leave the island alive?”

“I had to take the chance.”

“Why, dammit? Why the hell would you put yourself at risk like that when someone else could have—”

Fiery eyes turned to him. “No, don’t say it. Don’t you dare say that someone else more qualified could have done the job just as well. I got myself trained. I set it up. I was the one who got the files.”

“I’m not denying what you’ve accomplished, but you didn’t have to do those things. You could have been teaching school, having a normal life, without any threats. Why would you put yourself through that?”

“I had to.”

He recognized the mutinous expression. Determined to get the truth from her, he went in another direction with his questions: “You do realize that what we have on Reddington probably won’t put his son behind bars, don’t you?”

Her expression became even more closed, and in a way, he had an answer to his most burning question. Even though he had suspected it all along, it was now confirmed. “What did Lance do to you, Jamie?”

She was silent for so long, he wasn’t sure she’d give him any kind of answer at all. When she spoke, as usual, it wasn’t what he expected.

“Does it seem strange to you that there’s very little you don’t know about me and very little I know about you?”

“What?”

“You know everything, Dylan. My parents’ murder, my crummy marriage, what happened with Damon Hughes, and most everything that happened in Reddington’s house. Here’s what I know about you.” She held up a slender hand and ticked off each item as she spoke: “One: I know you grew up in the States. By the way, there are fifty of those now, so that’s a damn large generalization. Two: I know you were once married. Three: I know you have a degree in psychology. And four: I know your father killed your mother.” She glared accusingly at him. “Four things compared to my entire life seems damn uneven to me.”

“What do you want to know?”

If she weren’t so tired and dispirited, Jamie would’ve thrown a pillow at him. The instant she’d made that statement, his face had closed down. Why she’d thought confronting him point-blank would do any good, she didn’t know. But the wariness of his tone told her he was back in that defensive mode again. Asking him questions when he clearly didn’t want to tell her anything wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him to share with her … not turn their conversation into an inquisition.

Rolling over on the pillow, away from him, she said, “Never mind. I’m going back to sleep.”

He was so silent, she couldn’t hear him breathing, but she felt his eyes on her. Was he wondering why she suddenly didn’t want to know about him? Did he get it? She knew the answer to that. Dylan wasn’t stupid. He knew what she wanted from him. And the painful truth was, he didn’t want to give it to her.

Closing her eyes against the tears that threatened, she forced her thoughts away from another bruise on her heart and thought about tomorrow—something she hadn’t done in what seemed like forever.

She had to find a way to make it up to McKenna. Before she had left for Reddington’s island, she had talked to her sister once a week. And each week, she had skirted the truth. Yes, she was pursuing a teaching job. Yes, she was beginning a new job. Yes, she was getting on with her life. And though, other than her location, she had never lied outright, she had misled her sister.

When she had decided on this plan, she had known the cost. She just hadn’t considered what would happen once she had accomplished her goal. Could McKenna forgive her or had she driven a wedge between them that couldn’t be healed?

Wrapping her arms around herself, Jamie let the tears she’d held back flow freely down her face, until sleep finally claimed her.

Sometime later, she woke in Dylan’s arms. His shallow, even breaths told her he was deeply asleep. Rolling over to face him, she murmured her content and burrowed into his chest. The fantasy of having his arms around her forever lulled her back to sleep and into the most restful slumber she’d had in months.

Hours later, she opened her eyes to find Dylan gazing down at her. The early morning sun cloaked the room in a gray tinge, giving her just enough light to see his face but not his expression.

“Everything okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. Just like looking at you.”

She’d gone to bed with her hair wet and figured she probably looked like some sort of woolly mammoth, so she was glad for the dimness of the room. Still, his words, unexpected and sweet, turned her heart over.

“Are you hungry? All we had yesterday was lunch, and we slept through dinner.”

Actually, she felt as though she had a crater in her stomach, she was so famished. But lying in Dylan’s arms, listening to his deep, still raspy voice, feeling his hard, warm body encircling hers? There was no food in the universe that could replace this wonderful sensation.

It seemed as natural as breathing to pull his head down and kiss him. Dylan’s lips were deliciously soft, wonderfully male, as he kept the kiss light, allowing her to lead, to show him what she wanted. Jamie wanted it all. She licked at his lips and then opened her mouth, inviting him in.

The instant she opened her mouth to him, Dylan took control. Waking with Jamie in his arms had felt like a dream, one he hadn’t wanted to wake from. He’d been lying here for a while, just watching her sleep. And now, right or wrong, he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted her at this moment.