DARE: A Bad Boy Romance (27 page)

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope, and you’re wasting time. Holly’s locator just flashed a signal. Only a blip, no more than a few seconds, but the GPS pinpointed her northeast of somewhere called Tecopa. It’s out in the desert.”

“Son of a bitch!” Waves of relief and anger clashed together inside him. “So it
is
Delgado.”

“Looks that way. I’ve been researching him for the past hour or so. He’s an investment banker, owns stakes in some pretty high-end hotels, casinos, and sporting venues in Vegas and L.A. At least three of them are frequent MMA fight venues. Maybe more. That links him to the IMMAF, to Silva, and probably to the Vegas gambling cartels. It all fits, bud. With guys like this bankrolling him, Silva will absolutely do whatever it takes to bury Holly’s testimony.”

“Does Delgado strike you as somebody who’d get his hands dirty?”

“Not really. He’s a behind-the-scenes player. No criminal record. He probably has hotlines to half a dozen senators. Walks between the raindrops. That kind of thing.”

Dare waited for the next gap in oncoming traffic, then pulled a sharp U-turn. The drivers behind honked and cursed him. He flipped them off.

“You sound popular,” said Finn.

“Yeah, and they’re gonna just
love
me in Tecopa.” He punched the address into his navigation system. “Jesus. Two-hundred and thirty miles!”

“You always did have a boner for night ops.” Finn paused before he added, “Want some backup?”

Dare’s first instinct was to jump at the chance. There was no one he’d rather have fighting alongside him. And two Marines
were
better than one. But in his heart he knew it was a bad idea. The warrior known as Cork had never returned home from Afghanistan. He’d died out there. And the man who’d come back, brave and smart and loyal as he was, still hadn’t recovered from that trauma. Maybe he never would. Finn was a great pal, but when it came to combat, he was all fought out. They both knew it.

“You’ve already got my back, bro. I need you to keep feeding me intel. As much as you can find out between now and Tecopa. The layout of the property. Who else lives there with Delgado. Family members? Security personnel? Find out who else Silva and Delgado might be in league with. Start joining the dots. If anything happens to me, I want you to use it all. Go to the Feds if you have to. Just make sure you bring these bastards down. Okay?”

“Copy that, pal. I’m on it.”

Hearing those words somehow settled Dare a little. His anger was still there, but it was no longer red hot. He heaved a big sigh and found that it helped him focus. The obstacles to success kept piling up in his mind. Together, they scared him. Alone, however, none of them were insurmountable. And that was the only way he was going to win this thing, the only way he was going to bring Holly back alive: one move at a time. No mistakes.

“Finn?”

“Still here.”

“What else do we know about Silva?”

***

There wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t either ache or throb with pain. It was the posture mostly, standing on the balls of her feet for what must have been over an hour. Maybe two. The muscles in her feet had cramped several times. But whenever she took her weight off her feet, the ropes chafed against her wrists. The skin had peeled off by now, and the flesh underneath was raw. No matter what she did, agony was the result.

At least Barrett Silva and the other man, the one who’d caught her trying to escape after the crash, had stopped yelling in her face. It had numbed her to their threats in a way, the sheer volume of their shouts. But
ugh,
they’d kept at it until they were hoarse. Her ears still rang, but it was quiet in here now. They’d taken a break. Left her alone to contemplate her fate.

If she didn’t retract her statement about Trey’s condition, they would kill her. If she didn’t sign the document exculpating Silva, they would kill her. If she had any further contact with the IMMAF or the authorities regarding this investigation, they would kill her. If she had any further contact with Dare Bowden, guess what?

If I did all that, I might as well be dead anyway.

Strange, how she could hold out like this under all this physical and mental torture, when just a few weeks ago, she’d gone to pieces in the complete safety of her niece’s bedroom. Silva and his man hadn’t made a dent in her resolve. Not even when they’d taken turns caning her back. Not even the slaps to her face, or those two punches to her stomach that had knocked the wind out of her.

What would they try next? Waterboarding? Gang rape? Holly reckoned not. As sick as Silva was, he was trying to wear her down, not destroy her. After all, he hadn’t let his goons strip her naked. Not yet anyway.

But where was Dare? Was he even on his way? She felt
sure
she’d activated the distress signal.
Shit
. What if the signal was out of range? What if the hills were blocking it? She’d pressed the button twice, but had the second press been quick enough? Had she done it right on the first try and cancelled it out with the second?

No way to reach it again. Either he was on his way, or she was dead. It was that simple.

Jovial voices grew louder at the far end of the rec room. They were coming back, descending the stairs. Holly closed her eyes tight and concentrated on steeling herself for what she’d have to endure next. If Dare could whisper in her ear, what advice would he give?

We’re better than they are. We’ve got right on our side. That makes us stronger. So just hold on.

How could they be sharing jokes at a time like this? The first session had been so grim, so intense, with so much shouting, these didn’t seem like the same men. But they were. Barrett Silva had changed into smart trousers and a black cotton shirt. He’d showered, too, and slicked his hair back.

“That part about not having any further contact with Dare Bowden? You don’t need to worry about that anymore. We’ve taken care of it for you.” He addressed her so casually, he might be talking about a carton of milk he’d picked up from the market, not the man she loved.

“W-what do you mean?” Holly’s lips cracked as she spoke.

“I mean he’s dead. Try to keep up.”

“You’re lying.”

“Have it your way.” His nonchalant shrug sent shivers down her sore spine. He strolled behind her, whistling to himself. His torture partner lowered his shades, flicked Holly a wink. She didn’t believe them. No. She
couldn’t.
Dare? Dead? It was just another mind game they were playing, another attempt to break her spirit. Dare was a decorated Marine, and one of the toughest guys anywhere in the world.
No way
he’d let these bozos take him down.

They were bullshitting.

Or were they?

The sound of the cane smacking the floor made her jump. The memory of those sharp slices of pain made her sick to her stomach.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Silva said from behind her. Again, there was no venom in his words. He was calm. Almost workmanlike in his efficiency. “You can stop this at any time,” he reminded her. His calmness was unnerving after how aggressively he’d interrogated her at first. It left her wondering whether he
was
telling the truth about Dare, and he now considered himself completely untouchable. Like a dark seed in her heart, the idea sprouted and quickly grew thorns. She started shaking at the thought of having to endure all this for nothing. If Dare wasn’t there at the end of it, what was the point?

Then the cane struck her ribs, and she cried out.

For the first time, Holly doubted her resolve. She just didn’t know how long she could hold on without him. No. Those two words may have just broken her.

He’s dead.

She tried to banish the thought from her mind, but the blows kept on coming. Soon she went limp under them, and the ropes dug further into her wrists.

The wreckage of the burnt-out car still smoldered at the bottom of the verge. When Dare had first spotted it, he’d feared the worst. But there were no bodies inside. The blood on the sand outside could be anybody’s. It made no sense to drive Holly all the way out here to kill her and leave this evidence behind so close to Delgado’s estate. No, something unexpected had happened here. Maybe she’d tried to get free and during the struggle she’d inadvertently caused the driver to swerve off-road.

What about the duration of her distress signal though? If she did manage to get free, why the single blip? Unless they’d clocked what she was doing it and ripped it off her?

The lights of the estate had been visible for miles, since before Tecopa. There were other large residential properties in this area, but they were off to the southeast, clustered around some kind of hot springs resort. Delgado’s home stood alone, more or less in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place to conduct private business…of all sorts.

He switched off his flashlight before he climbed back up the verge to his Jeep. After sending Finn a final message saying he was about to start his incursion, Dare backed the car up to a safer distance off-road, behind a small hillock. Then he strapped on his Kevlar vest and armed himself for the assault. He’d considered not taking the M16a4 assault rifle because it had a fairly long barrel and was therefore cumbersome when climbing. He had to be agile tonight and be able to improvise.

But he didn’t know how many men he’d be dealing with, or how heavily armed they were. Sneaking around was all well and good, but there would inevitably be a confrontation when he made his move to snatch her. He needed the rifle. It came with a strap, so he could sling it onto his back. Next, twin Beretta M9 USMC 9mm pistols, identical to those that had saved his life umpteen times at close quarters in the Middle East. Throwing knives, always handy for stealth attacks. And lastly, a pair of L-3 binocular night-vision goggles, the most effective way of evening the odds against a superior force at night. If it came to a firefight that would be his first move: kill the lights, keep them in them dark so he could pick them off using his infrared.

Finn had found a bird’s eye photo of the compound taken by a tourist during a scenic tour flight in a Cessna. Not the best quality, as the snap had been taken from high up, but the white buildings were clear enough. Finn had made out a horse stable, a garage for a fleet of cars, a helipad (but no chopper), and an L-shaped configuration of the four main buildings, which all adjoined. The largest, probably Delgado’s residence, constituted the corner of the L. It was located on the western edge of the courtyard, difficult to access from the front because it was so exposed; the stone fountains might provide some cover, but it was not a great way to approach the house. Luckily, the guy liked his plants. There were shrubs, creepers, and small trees all over the place.

A quick scout around the perimeter didn’t give him much, but it did reveal a potential way in. He still had to scale the high, Stucco-rendered wall, but some sections were in better shape than others. In places where the finish had crumbled away or been disturbed by tenacious vines—one or two had almost manage to poke their roots
through
the wall itself from the inside—he might be able to gain some purchase. They were at best meager handholds and footholds between the old stones underneath, but it was worth a try. It was either that or rig up some kind of grappling hook, which would make more noise, and he wouldn’t know if it had raised the alarm or not until he reached the top of the wall.

No time to waste.

He attacked the climb, really digging his fingertips into the cracks. But he was also careful not to put all his weight on a hold until he was sure the stone wouldn’t crumble. It was a very old wall, much older than he’d assumed. This section of it hadn’t been repaired in decades. Here and there it did crumble, and he wound up clinging to practically nothing with fingertips that shook with the strain of his weight. Christ, why had he gone and bulked up so much? Climbing was a skinny guy’s sport. Skinny he was not.

The last meter or so proved impossible. Dare was at full stretch already, and he couldn’t see any more handholds above him. There was a promising area to his left, with plenty of cracks and crevices, but it was a full arm’s length out of reach. The way his legs were positioned meant that any shift of weight in that direction would be an all-or-nothing gamble. Either he purchased new holds with both his hand and his foot on the first try, or he’d plummet twenty feet onto a thin layer of sand over solid rock. A leg-breaking fall, maybe worse.

I’m not here for my health.

He sucked in three quick breaths and pivoted across. For a split-second, he was held by nothing. His body sliding across the rough Stucco was all that kept him from being airborne. Frantically he clawed at the uneven stone edges. The foothold he’d aimed for was insufficient. It didn’t support even the tip of his boot. The shadow of the moonlight had deceived him. His feet fell away. His stomach leapt into his throat. Dare steeled his crooked fingers as the tips scraped into the wall…

He had purchase. Somehow. The fingers of his left hand had stuck in a crack he didn’t even know had been there. It actually ran across the wall haphazardly for several feet, but the upper Stucco lip bulged, so it hid the depression. With both hands fixed in place, he felt around below with his boots and quickly found a decent foothold.

Dare pressed his forehead against the cool wall and thanked his lucky stars. This had been
way
harder than he’d guessed, and he wasn’t even in the compound yet.

Get a move on, Marine. She’s in there waiting.

He composed himself and resumed the climb. This shift of route had been the answer to the puzzle; from here on up, it was fairly straightforward. He peered over the top of the wall and reassured himself that he was in no danger of being seen if he got down the other side quickly. A scan of the perimeter brought his gaze to a row of hedges about forty meters to his right. It was a big jump, but the hedge looked soft enough and compact enough to cushion his fall. It was also away from the house, adjacent to some kind of tool shed. Unfortunately, the shed was too far away for him to jump onto the roof.

He lowered himself a couple of meters down the wall then let go. He landed well, square on the hedge, but the front of it buckled and gave way, spilling him onto the hard ground, out of the shadows. For a few moments, he was in the beam of a security floodlight. Anyone watching the CCTV feeds could spot him easily.

No use worrying about that now. He was in. He had to keep moving.

Dogs barked from somewhere across the compound. There was a slight breeze, but he was upwind of the dogs. Important to keep it that way, give them a wide berth. There was a single entry point at the rear of the main building, a door set inside an archway. Locked. Dare made his way along the western edge of the building’s L-shape, careful to keep to the shadows wherever possible.

He spotted a man on the balcony above. Another two smoking outside at the far end of the compound. The dogs were with them.
Shit
. The more time he spent creeping around out there, the more chance he’d be discovered. What he needed was a way in, and fast.

The four buildings were not perfectly adjoined, he discovered. They were connected at the ground floor only, by narrow access passages. An eccentric feature. Climbable, because the joins were so decorative, almost semi-circular stone columns protruding from the walls. He pulled himself up and stayed low behind the balustrade as he made his way along the front balcony of the main house. The first shuttered door he came to was locked, and the next. Crap. He was drifting toward the middle of the compound—over the courtyard itself.

He noticed an open window. Silk curtains fidgeted in the breeze. There was no light on inside, so he slipped in. He used his night-vision goggles to look around what he quickly determined was the master bedroom. It was opulent, tasteful, and empty.

He crept onto the landing, down the main staircase, and into the well-lit foyer, always listening, always advancing by positions of optimal cover. The place seemed deserted, but he kept hearing the faint echoes of voices reverberating through the house. Not on this floor, though, unless they were coming from one of the connecting buildings. No, if he had to guess he’d say the voices were coming from…
below.

There was a lit stairwell behind the main staircase, heading down. Dare clicked the safety off his assault rifle and cautiously approached.

Crack!

A bullet hit the banister inches from his right ear. His sidewise duck spilled him onto the floor. He managed to spin and fire his weapon at the same time. He missed. His shots shattered a window. While the shooter hid behind a wall, Dare knelt on one knee and took careful aim at the spot where his opponent would have to reappear if he wanted to finish his job. For all he knew, Dare was dead.

One glimpse was all it took as the man peered around the wall. The eye he cast in Dare’s direction was the one he lost. One headshot. One down.

By now the entire compound had gone ape-shit: security lights blazed everywhere, voices shouted, and dogs barked. The sound of running feet approached from both inside and out. Dare held his position under the stairs. He shot out three lights, darkening the foyer so that his opponents would struggle to see. He slipped on his NVGs again and waited. His strong suspicion that Holly was downstairs, almost within reach, only made him more resolute.

Three men ran into the foyer brandishing Kalashnikovs. One of them had two Dobermans on a leash. They positioned themselves poorly and didn’t spread out as they should have. Dare lobbed a stun grenade into the middle of them, shielded his eyes from the flash and his ears from the bang, then opened fire.

The men fell in quick succession. The terrified dogs fled back outside for dear life.

He removed his NVGs and ran down the stairwell. It was quiet down here, too quiet. He looked at the reflection in the blade of one of his throwing knife to see into the room at the bottom. It was a spacious gym-cum-rec room. He tilted his blade minutely, studying every angle. Amazing how steady his hand still was, even after all this time away from the Corps.

There was definitely movement near the far end. Hushed voices. The muffled sounds of a struggle, as though someone was being restrained.

Those bastards!

He shot out the nearest ceiling light, cloaking himself in darkness. Then the next, so he could advance. He made his way along the right hand wall and put his NVGs back on. Then, he took out another light.

The slip of a shadow several meters ahead alerted him to an enemy presence. But how could he be
certain
it wasn’t Holly there, hiding?

He called her name.

“Stop right where you are, Bowden, or she dies!”

Bad move on Silva’s part. The threat told him three things Dare hadn’t known for sure. One, Silva was farther away than the shifting shadow, which meant someone else was in here, waiting just ahead of Dare. Two, Holly was definitely in here. And three, she was with Silva.

“Touch her and you know what will happen,” he answered. “Let her go and I’ll leave with her right now. No one else needs to die,” he lied. No fucking way Silva was surviving past this night.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

Dare replied by shooting out another light, then moved forward. He could see the tips of the crouching man’s boots ahead of him, peeking out from behind the thick leg of the pool table.

“Last chance, Silva.”

“No, it’s
your
last chance to save her.”

So be it. Dare inched to his left, lay flat on the floor and shot at the crouching man’s foot. To his surprise, the boot flew away across the laminate floor. There was no foot in it! He’d been duped.

No sooner had he realized his mistake than two bullets slammed into his back, knocking the wind out of him. He immediately rolled sideways, making it trickier for his enemy to hit a moving supine target. Another bullet hit his chest. The Kevlar caught it, but it still hurt like hell. Just like the others. Another shot caught his rifle and knocked it clean out of his grip. Dare scrambled away behind the pool table and went to retrieve his twin Berettas.