Cover Me (Elite Force #1)(66)
Author: Catherine Mann

Misty’s chest went tight with panic, her knees wobbly, and she grabbed the nearest mooring post for support. Only a split instant to make a decision whether to press ahead and scream or slip away and search for help. And if she chose wrong, her sister would die. Others could die from the stray gunfire.

Her grip numbing as she held on to the boat for balance, she looked behind her for help, but Agent Lasky was out of sight. Everyone else at least a hundred yards away on the other side of the fence. God, why had she wandered so far away?—but if she hadn’t she wouldn’t have found her sister. And why weren’t there more police on the dock?

She made her decision. She couldn’t even waste a second for a final look, or good-bye, or I love you. But then her sister had to already know.

Misty spun on her heel and ran full out toward Agent Lasky. She didn’t have to be able to hear to know the boat carrying her sister was already roaring away.

***

Wade had once held immeasurably still for five hours in a Central American jungle after stabilizing an injured pilot who’d punched out of his F-16 doing drug interdiction patrols. Their ride out had been diverted due to antiaircraft fire, and with drug lords crawling around behind every banana tree, he hadn’t dared move.

He’d only been on this frozen rooftop a half hour, scanning the perimeter for suspicious activity, but it already seemed twice as long as that jungle stint. He would feel a helluva lot better when he had a chance to talk to Sunny, to figure out a way to sort through the anger in her eyes. Still, even knowing that the SWAT team and the local police were crawling all over the place, even sending out a boat to patrol the bay, didn’t ease the knot in his gut at the thought of her here helping.

His earpiece buzzed with chatter from the bomb squad as they discussed ways to either disable the device or contain the blast. Fire trucks and EMTs waited outside the fence. And the MH-60 was still parked right where they’d landed a couple of hours ago.

“Hurry up and wait” had never felt so damn excruciating before.

McCabe’s knees popped again as he shifted positions. “Wanna swap places? I just got a clear view of your girlfriend.”

“Where? What’s she doing?” Damn it, she should be far, far away from this place. “Hang on and I’ll be over in a second. There’s something funky going on outside the gate.”

He didn’t like the look of four people confabbing a little too tightly. He didn’t want to take his eyes off them just yet.

“She was over by the docks with her buddy Flynn. I think her sister was beside her, but then a chick in a parka is pretty much a chick in a parka, you know. Sunny with her hood down though? Can’t miss that blue stripe through her hair.”

Franco laughed low. “Better get your eyes off his woman’s stripe or you’re liable to get your ass kicked, old man.”

“Hmmm…” McCabe said. “That’s interesting. Your girl and her pals are taking a ride in one of the fishing boats by the festival. She must be going back to the lodge like you told her.”

He couldn’t imagine her doing that, not after the fire she’d just spit his way. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. “Where’s Lasky? Have they checked this place out? Or are they all still too busy arguing about who’s in control?”

The chatter in his earpiece grew louder, the intensity indicating something was heating up down there. Wade pressed his finger to the device, his buddies beside him going silent too just as Agent Lasky barked through the airwaves.

“Red alert, all eyes and ears up. We’ve got a hostage situation. I repeat, a hostage situation.”

Wade’s instincts blared and his gut clenched with the undeniable surety that Sunny was somehow in danger. As he shot to his feet, charging toward the metal stairs wrapped around the outside, he swept his binoculars around the power plant, praying he would find her…

He swept past Lasky. Then back again sharply, bringing the view in tighter. Flynn and Misty stood with the agents, their hoods down, so there was no mistaking them.

The same two people McCabe had just said he saw with Sunny in a boat.

***

Sea spray stung Sunny’s face like a thousand frozen needles. She suffered no delusions that these three people wanted to keep her alive. She’d stumbled into their getaway and now she was disposable. It was a race against time for Misty to find help soon enough to save her life.

How had Astrid and Ryker gotten tangled up with this man Brett? She recognized him from their plane trip earlier and shuddered to think she and Wade had been that close to death.

The hull chopped through the waves, farther from the power plant until it was just a speck. Farther and farther the craft raced from Wade and help.

She’d been so naïve to think she could save her sister, but God, how could she have foreseen something this huge? This evil?

And Wade had stood by her through it all. Even when he charged ahead full speed, he was doing it for her. And she’d pushed him away, rather than considering his reasons. He’d been right to be cautious, albeit he could be heavy-handed at times, but given what had happened to his mother, that was understandable.

Morning rays shimmered off the icy bay. Fishing charters in the distance were all oblivious and too far away to signal. Even if Astrid didn’t still have the gun wedged into her side.

Brett eased back on the throttle, the boat slowed, and her heart sped.

Not yet, not yet.

She needed more time. Misty, Wade, the authorities needed more time. Damn it all, she wanted more time with Wade, another chance. She tucked her hand inside her parka to touch the survival knife, strapped to her waist.

One-on-one odds in a fight, she could handle. But three against one was beyond hopeless. The best she could do was stay alive long enough. If they threw her overboard, she would be unconscious in thirty seconds, dead in ninety. Without some kind of protective clothing, she couldn’t survive in the freezing waters.

The boat drifted past a small iceberg, swirling turquoise streaks through the black Alaska waters.

Brett turned from the helm to the others behind him, his face paler where his beard had once been. He was frighteningly normal looking. “This hasn’t gone quite as we planned.”

His hand slid from his pocket, holding a gun.

Her hand clenched tighter around the knife handle as her mind raced for ideas, for anything, but she couldn’t see a way. Her mind filled with images of Wade.

Before she could finish registering that the Beretta had a silencer lengthening the barrel…