Authors: Terri Reed
There still might be a chance he could save Angie.
Please, Lord, don’t let me be too late.
Sensory consciousness happened rapidly for Angie. Keeping her eyes closed, she allowed her other senses to assess the situation. The smell of musty disuse and decaying brine filled her nostrils. The humid air held no breeze. Some kind of closed room. She was able to distinguish men’s voices above the roar of the surf. Her hands were tied behind her back in a now-familiar position. So not a good thing.
Her feet also were bound by a thin nylon rope. Thankfully, there wasn’t a gag in her mouth. Obviously, she was somewhere remote enough that Picard didn’t worry about her screaming to attract attention. A stab of fear made her stomach muscles clench.
She’d put herself in this precarious position by not
doing as Jason asked. If only she’d stayed put. But then Picard would have escaped. It was up to her to stop him. For Jason, for her brother. And for justice.
She cracked her eyelids open to get a partial visual, enough to ascertain the safety of opening her eyes fully. Daylight filtered in through the dirty windows. She’d been out for a long time. Her stomach cramped with hunger, her head throbbed. Tight muscles screamed in agony.
She concentrated on her surroundings. She was in the dining area of a small house. The hardwood floor beneath her was scarred and badly in need of some care. As were the furnishings. Rotted wooden chairs, a table that looked ready to keel over and cobwebs hanging from the low ceiling. What was this place?
She experimented with her bonds. Tight, but at least she wasn’t secured to a beam. Cautiously, she turned her head to the right, searching for an escape as well as ascertaining where her captors were. Through the dust-covered window she could see Picard and his cohort—the one whose nose Jason had busted—were outside the house, standing on the porch and blocking the only exit she could see.
She looked around for anything sharp with which to cut her ties. From her vantage point on the floor, she couldn’t see the tabletop. She tried to get her feet under her to stand. And fell sideways for her effort.
She tried using her elbow to push herself upright but failed. Frustrated with herself and the situation, she flopped onto her back and stretched out her legs. She
stayed prone for a moment, letting her muscles relax and her anxiety lessen, before she bent her knees and rolled up into a sitting position.
Back to where she started. Well, if she couldn’t cut her ties, then she could at least hear what Picard and his man were discussing. She scooted her way toward the door. If she stretched, she could just see over the edge of the window sill.
“It’s been an hour! Where’s the boat?”
There was no mistaking that voice. Decker. Or Picard or whatever his real name was, sounded agitated, and his fierce scowl confirmed it. As he should be. He should be very worried. He’d kidnapped a law-enforcement officer. For the second time. Only this go around, there was backup. Kind of.
If only there were some way to let Jason know her whereabouts.
“Ramirez said he’d be here. He may have had trouble avoiding the authorities,” Picard’s cohort replied.
“I’ve got to get off this island.”
“What do we do with the cop?”
Angie’s breath stalled.
“We’ll kill her when she’s no longer needed and dump her body in the ocean or leave it here. I don’t care. All I care about are these beauties.” He held a small pouch and jingled it. “And of course, getting off this miserable rock.”
A tremor of apprehension and dread rocked through Angie. Her fate was out of her control. Only God’s
mercy and grace would see her through this. “Please, Lord, lead Jason to me.”
She prayed for the impossible.
As the telltale signs of dawn streaked the horizon, Jason concentrated on the GPS tracking receiver in his hand, watching the little dot. He didn’t want to think about the possibilities that crept in to torment his mind. He could only pray that Picard was holed up somewhere with Angie waiting for an opportunity to escape the island. He had to believe she was alive and that there was still a chance to rescue her. Anything else…well, he just couldn’t think about that.
He stood on the deck of a fast-moving shallow-bottom ocean skiff provided by ATF. Beside him, Joe gripped the railing, his tortured and anxious expression echoing the emotions bouncing around inside Jason’s heart and mind. A southeasterly wind had whipped up. Water sprayed as the slick vessel sliced through the choppy waves. The dot on the receiver began to flash, indicating they were closing in on Angie’s position.
They rounded the southernmost tip of the island. Not much development on this end; only the lone lighthouse with its outbuilding stood ready to warn seafaring vessels of the island’s existence. The place looked abandoned and forlorn against the emerging daylight. A perfect place to hide.
Going with his gut instincts, Jason instructed the man at the helm to go farther down the coastline
before stopping, for fear of alerting Picard to their presence. When the boat set anchor as close to shore as it could, Jason and Joe jumped out. The water came up to their knees.
“Call in our location,” Jason instructed the boat captain, who nodded and pulled out a radio transmitter.
Once they reached the shore, Joe asked, “Which way?”
Consulting the receiver in his hand, Jason pointed to the tall, metal tower with a strong beam of light emitting from the glass-enclosed, circular room at the top. The lighthouse was a good two hundred yards away and sat just inland from the beach surrounded by high, spikey blades of grass and the groundcover of inkberry plants. “He’s holding her in that building or the lighthouse.”
“Let’s do this.” Joe ran down the beach toward the lighthouse.
Jason followed. His heart beat wildly as he kept his senses on high alert. A man appeared around the corner of the building. Both Jason and Joe dropped flat, hoping the bushes would provide cover. Jason recognized the bandages strapped across the man’s nose. Picard was definitely here. Jason’s instincts had been correct.
Picard’s henchman appeared to be watching the water as if expecting company. Probably their getaway transport.
They waited until the sentry retraced his steps. Then, in a crouch, they ran to the building, weapons drawn. With Jason in the lead, they inched their way
around the back. Jason looked in the first grime-covered window he reached. It looked into a small room that probably had once been the lighthouse keeper’s quarters but now housed electrical equipment and other paraphernalia for the updated automated lighthouse. No kerosene lantern, no need for a keeper.
The next window gave them a clear view into the main portion of the building. Angie sat on the floor with her feet and hands bound. She seemed to be talking to someone.
Relief made Jason sag for a moment as he sent up a quick prayer of thanks to God. Now, they had to figure out how to get her out alive. He surprised himself by not really caring about what happened to Picard in the process.
“I’ll take out the sentry, you get my sister,” Joe instructed.
Not one to argue with a good plan, Jason nodded his agreement. Joe crept along the side of the house and disappeared around the front. Jason went back to the storage room window, pried the screen off with a utility knife, slid the window open and soundlessly climbed inside.
A conversation floated to him from the room next door.
“You’ll never be free. The authorities will hunt you down for all the days of your life,” Angie said, her tone amazingly calm.
“I’ve done just fine avoiding the law for nearly thirty years. I have no intention of being taken in now.”
Picard’s answering voice sent rage pounding inside
Jason’s head. Not only was this man responsible for his friend’s death but he obviously intended to harm Angie. Over Jason’s dead body.
“Jason will find me.”
Her confidence in him bolstered his determination.
With his weapon at the ready, he tested each step so as not to make a noise as he made his way to the door and cracked it open.
A short hall led to the central room where Angie waited. He crept forward, then peered around the corner and quickly ducked back out of sight as Picard paced, his heavy boots leaving a trail in the dust covering the floor.
Hoping that Joe had managed to disarm and subdue the outside guard, Jason took a steadying breath before charging into the room, his weapon aimed at Picard’s head. “Federal agent. Stop where you are. Hands in the air.”
Picard whirled around, his eyes widening. “You! I knew you were some kind of cop.”
“Hands in the air,” Jason repeated.
“I told you,” Angie addressed Picard smugly.
Picard raised his hands.
Keeping his gun aimed at Picard, Jason bent beside Angie. “You okay?”
“Yeah. How did you find me?”
“The tracker in your shoe.” With one hand, he used the knife to hack away at the rope binding her wrists.
“Track…?” Her eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh, yeah.”
The ropes fell away. She rubbed her wrists for a moment before tackling the tie around her ankles.
Jason rose and faced Picard. “You’re done, Picard. And I can’t wait to see you behind bars.”
Picard snorted. “We’ll see.”
“Let’s go.” Jason pushed Picard toward the door. The hinges squeaked as the door opened. They stepped out onto the porch.
“Joe!” Angie exclaimed. She started to rush down the stairs but Jason snagged her arm.
Her brother lay unconscious on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Standing over him was Ramirez. Several other armed goons aimed their weapons at them.
Picard ripped the gun out of Jason’s hand. “Well, well, well. Seems the tide has turned.”
Jason’s stomach dropped as the gravity of the situation hit him full force. Once again they were outmanned and outgunned. He tugged Angie behind him, offering her the only protection he could. They’d have to kill him first before he’d let them hurt her.
He could only pray reinforcements arrived soon.
T
error for her brother lanced Angie’s already frayed nerves. He was lying so still facedown in the sand. Was he even alive? Tears threatened the backs of her eyes but she refused to give in. Emotions right now would only hinder any chance they had of surviving this ordeal.
She tried to step out from behind Jason, but his strong arm held her firmly in place behind his right shoulder. She appreciated his need to protect her. And when this was over she’d thank him. After she’d broken Ramirez’s knee.
“Should we duck for cover?” she said beneath her breath so that only he would hear.
“Not yet,” he answered her. To Picard, he said, “So take your men and go.”
Picard’s feral smile sent shivers of dread running over Angie’s flesh. The maniacal gleam in his gray eyes didn’t bode well.
“And leave witnesses behind who can identify me?” He shook his head. “I think not.” He waved his
hand in a dismissive gesture and spoke to Ramirez. “Dispose of them.”
“With pleasure,” Ramirez answered. “Get them all back in the house. We’ll torch the place with them inside.”
Ramirez’s henchmen rushed to do their master’s bidding. Two men grabbed Joe and dragged him toward the stairs, while another vaulted onto the porch and gestured toward the door with the business end of his AK-47. Angie clutched Jason’s arm as they slowly backed up, her mind rapidly evaluating their options. She didn’t think they could take out the five men without her, Joe or Jason getting hurt.
Shouts filled the air.
Suddenly three armed agents came charging from around the corner of the house. Jason took the opportunity to disarm the surprised gunman by kicking the assault weapon from his hands. Angie rushed to Joe, who’d been dropped halfway up the stairs. Seizing the fallen weapon, Jason leaped from the porch and ran across the dry sand to the beach after Picard, who was lumbering toward the awaiting boat. The other agents worked to subdue and contain the men Picard left behind.
Once she was assured that Joe was alive, Angie grabbed a weapon lying on the ground. Her own need to protect drove her to race after Jason, crashing through the tepid and undulating waves until she was within arm’s length of him.
He barely spared her a glance. “Go back!”
“No.” She pointed to her right where another motorboat was zipping through the waves toward them. “One of ours?”
“Yes. Picard won’t get away now.” Jason made a motion with his arms for the federal boat to come to him.
Picard swam the rest of the way to the waiting boat and climbed in, yelling for the man at the helm to take off. The boat’s engine revved and shot forward.
Jason splashed through the waves to his waist and shouted a warning. “Stop! Or I’ll shoot.”
Picard ducked down. A moment later, he jumped to his feet and raised an assault rifle. He opened fire; bullets hit the water, precariously close to Jason.
Angie’s breath stalled. Terror that Jason would be hit slammed into her chest. She lunged forward to push Jason aside. A sharp stinging pain ripped through her shoulder and halted her in her tracks. She staggered back. She’d been hit.
Jason returned fire in a spray of bullets. The sound of lead pinged off the body of the boat. Picard dropped out of sight as the boat headed out to sea.
Her hand went over the wound. Blood oozed between her fingers. She kept backing up.
Where was Jason?
Frantically, she searched the water for him. Had he been shot as well and was now under the water, perhaps drowning? “Jason!”
The world around her shifted and swirled as dizziness overtook her. She stumbled in the sand and fought
to stay conscious, needing to see if Jason was okay, but the pull of darkness was too strong. She toppled over into the churning waves, the salt water searing her wound and smothering her face, filling her nostrils with water. She fought to right herself, to do something, but there was nothing she could do to ward off unconsciousness.
Jason couldn’t let Picard get away. Not now. Not after so many months of searching for him, after all the crimes he’d committed. The man had to be brought in. Feeling as though his opportunity to capture Picard was slipping away, Jason flung the rifle aside and dove into the water, intending to meet the ATF craft and pursue Picard.
He heard Angie cry his name. He paused briefly to look back, hoping she wasn’t trying to follow him. She needed to stay on land where it was safe.
He frowned as his mind tried to make sense of what he saw. She wasn’t following him; instead, she’d dropped to her knees in the shallow water. Was that blood on her shoulder? His breath seized in his lungs. Oh, no. She’d been shot.
She collapsed sideways, disappearing beneath the rolling waves.
All thoughts of pursuing Picard fled. Only one thought clamored through his mind. He had to save Angie. Fear and love and anguish slammed into his chest, forming a tight cohesive ball. He loved her. With every fiber of his being. He didn’t want to lose
her. He couldn’t survive another death of someone he loved.
He swam back, stroking hard to go as fast as his body could. When his feet touched the sandy bottom, he charged through the roiling water to where he’d seen Angie go under face-first. His heart constricted painfully in his chest. The rough surf battered her limp body.
Quickly, he scooped her up and carried her to dry land. “Get EMT here,” he yelled to the agents running toward him.
Joe, holding a bloodied cloth to his temple, jumped up from the stairs and raced to meet Jason. Anguish twisted his already battered face. “Is she…?”
“No,” Jason barked, not wanting to even think about finishing Joe’s question. Gently, he laid her down. “Angie, come on.”
“Let me,” Joe said and tried to push Jason away.
Panic and adrenaline revved through Jason. He shoved Joe hard, sending him onto his backside in the sand. “Get help.”
Joe scrambled to his feet and began to pray out loud as he ran back toward the lighthouse.
Jason checked her pulse. Weak but there. Bending close, he put his ear to her mouth and watched her chest. She wasn’t breathing. She must have inhaled water when she passed out.
Placing one hand on her forehead, he lifted her chin with the fingers of his other hand and titled her head back. Pinching her nose closed, he took a deep breath
and then sealed her mouth with his. He pushed air into her lungs. Paused to take a short breath in and then repeated the action several times. He stopped to look and listen. She still wasn’t breathing.
“Please, Lord, don’t let her die. Save her. Save her now.”
He was tempted to try bargaining with God. But that wouldn’t help. Angie had made him see that truth. He could only trust that God would answer his prayer as he continued with the rescue breathing. Vaguely, Jason was aware that other agents had rushed out to the AFT boat and taken off after Picard. But Jason’s main focus was on Angie.
After several agonizing moments, she coughed and sputtered.
“Thank you, God.” Jason nearly collapsed with relief. Quickly, he turned her onto her side, so she wouldn’t choke on the water her lungs were trying to expel. When her breathing seemed more stable, he cradled her in his arms, gently rocking her.
This was his fault. He never should have let her in on his operation. He never should have let her get so close. He’d almost lost the woman he loved.
A swelling rage rose, choking him on its bitter bile. This was Picard’s doing. Once again, he’d hurt someone Jason loved.
“Sir, we need to check her wound.”
Jason blinked blankly at the kind face of the blond young man talking to him. He had on a dark blue uniform and reached for Angie with rubber-glove-encased hands.
The paramedic’s words sank in. Jason gently handed her over to his care.
Jason rose. A numbness invaded his being as he watched the paramedic and his partner lift Angie onto a rescue litter and carry her away with Joe right on their heels.
Lambert came charging down the path. “Just got a report that Picard went overboard wearing a dive suit.”
Worried sick over Angie, Jason tried to comprehend what his SAC was saying. “He got away?”
“Afraid so.”
Pent-up fury pounded at Jason’s chest. He turned and walked down to the water’s edge to stare at the point on the horizon where Picard disappeared.
For the second time in his life he shouted out a vow. “No matter how long it takes or what it costs, I will bring down Felix Picard!”
This time, though, he knew what the man looked like. His face was tattooed on Jason’s brain, like a permanent scar.
No way would Jason let the man who killed his friend and hurt the woman he loved live to see another day.
Angie heard the soft yet irritating beep of a heart monitor. She recognized the noise from when her father had had his heart attack. The sound brought back the horrific memories of that time, the anguish and uncertainty that had so tried to rob her of her faith. But she’d held on, knowing God’s will would be done.
Thankfully, her father had lived. And though he had to take it easier than he had, he was doing well.
So why was she hearing that awful noise now?
Taking a moment to assess, she could feel the weight of blankets tucked around her. A mattress under her prone body. The antiseptic smell of a hospital teased her nose.
Her eyelids fluttered, allowing in peeks of light through her lashes. Finally she managed to completely open her eyes. Above her the tiled ceiling didn’t look familiar. She turned her head toward the incessant beeping. Pain exploded through her system, stealing her breath.
Realization came crashing in. Recollection quickly followed.
She was in a hospital. She’d been shot. Jason had disappeared in the water.
Panic streaked through her. Where was Jason?
She struggled through the pain. Forced herself to lie still and breathe. She had to find out what happened to Jason. The urgency of the thought pushed the pain to the background.
“Hello?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.
Her throat was so dry. She concentrated on gathering saliva to moisten her vocal cords.
She stilled as a noise grabbed her attention. Just a whisper of friction. A door opening?
“Hello?” Her voice came out a tad stronger.
“You’re awake.”
Jason.
The deep, familiar and oh, so welcome voice made tears pool in her eyes. He captured her hand in his big, strong, warm ones.
Too choked up to try to speak, she squeezed tight.
He leaned closer, his face coming into view. She drank in the sight of him. The stubble darkening his jaw, the concern in his steel-blue eyes and the dark circles telling her he hadn’t rested recently.
She licked her dry lips. “Hi.”
He smiled. “Hi, yourself.”
She could have sworn there were tears glistening in his eyes. Love for this man filled her heart to near bursting. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Me?” He looked nonplussed by the question. “Yeah, I am now that you’re awake. You gave us all a scare.”
That his well-being was tied to hers sent pleasure cascading over her, eclipsing the throbbing in her shoulder. “All?”
“Your family is outside.”
Her family. Knowing they were close gave her comfort.
“I know they’ll want to come in but I’m going to be selfish and make them wait a moment.”
“I’m good with that,” she said, thrilled by his words. “So what have I missed? Was Edmund Corrinda arrested? Did Horatio know what his grandson and Picard were doing?”
“Yes, Edmund was taken into custody. Horatio didn’t know, or at least pretended not to. He arranged
for a defense lawyer for Edmund. The other grandson had already taken off for Europe. We’re not sure if he had been involved.”
“And the treasure?”
He shrugged. “Other than those few gold coins, there doesn’t seem to be anything else. Though Horatio vows he won’t stop looking.”
“And what of Picard?”
His expression darkened. “Escaped.”
“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t traipsed out into the water, I wouldn’t have been shot and you would have captured him.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “Not your fault. And don’t worry, I’ll find him.”
“It will be good to see him behind bars.”
Something cold shifted in his gaze. He looked away. “Yeah.”
Dread like ice water filled her veins. “Jason. You will bring him in. Alive.”
He lifted on shoulder in a noncommittal gesture. “I’ll do my best.”
She didn’t believe him. “If there’s a chance of bringing him in alive, you have to.”
“The man doesn’t deserve mercy.” The harsh note in his voice echoed in the room.
A deep ache throbbed in her heart. “Everyone deserves mercy. You can’t be his judge and executioner. Your job is to apprehend him.”
A frown darkened his face. “You’re getting upset. Let’s not talk about this.”
He tried to disengage his hand from hers. She held on like a lifeline. “No. We have to talk about this. I love you and I don’t want you to do something that will destroy you.”
His eyes widened in shock. “What?”
“You have to understand that if you go after Picard with the intention of murdering him the consequences will ruin you.” She had to make him understand. “If you do this, you jeopardize your career and your freedom.”
“You love me?”
Her heart opened, allowing all the vulnerable emotions to surface. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
The admission was bittersweet because she didn’t know if her love would be enough. “But I can’t see a future with a man who says he follows God and then does something that out of line with the faith he professes to.”
Tears crested her lashes and ran down her cheeks. She didn’t care about them. She cared only that Jason would hear and understand. “Your honor and integrity come from God. Please, don’t turn your back on that. Take Picard down the right way. The honest and true way. Let justice prevail.”
His expression softened. He tenderly stroked back her hair with his free hand. “You’re too idealistic for a cop. I will do what I have to do.”
“It’s not idealistic to follow God and His word.”
He shrugged away her words. “I can’t promise you anything. Now or ever.”