Undercover Texas

Chapter Seven



The rhythmic sound of the sea pulsing into the pier was the only sound. The desolate marina was eerily quiet. Darkness hung over the deserted area.

At Doc’s signal, Hunter pressed Erin next to a foreclosed office building. “Don’t come out until I motion to you.”

She nodded. She’d been quiet. Too quiet. Hunter understood.

She’d still been upset with him when they’d returned the airboats.

Then Hunter had seen the blood.

He’d tried to protect Erin, but she’d walked right into a huge pool just outside the small outdoor stand.

The poor guy who’d sold them the boat had been facedown with his brains splattered around him.

Erin hadn’t been able to look away. She had hardly said a word since.

The news indicated the man’s death to be a suicide. Too much debt, a wife who left him.

Hunter knew better.

So did Erin.

His entire body tense, he scanned the area, then the water.

No movement except the occasional wave.

“You’re sure they’ll be here?” he asked Doc. “I’m not certain I’d want to touch this mission with a two-hundred-foot crane.”

“They’ll be here,” Doc said.

“I don’t get it,” Hunter said. “What’s their story?”

“Marty’s husband died on 9/11. He was a firefighter. A real hero. He took a second trip up in the towers. He didn’t make it out.” Doc lifted his night-vision goggles and surveyed the horizon. “She and her husband’s uncle are on a mission now. They’ve never let me down.”

The hum of an engine pierced over the lapping of the water against the pier. They both ducked down. Doc swung his goggles toward the sound.

He didn’t speak for a moment. Hunter’s entire body crouched low, ready to take off.

“It’s them.” Doc smiled. “What did I tell you? Right on time.”

A fishing boat rumbled toward the pier. The paint job had seen much better days. By the time it reached them, Hunter took a step back. “That is some boat. But seriously, Doc. Is it seaworthy? I need to get to Texas quickly. How fast can it possibly go?”

“Faster than you’d expect. I wouldn’t judge this book by its cover. Besides, do you have a choice?” Doc whispered, “You can’t risk the airport or the bus station.”

“I know. They’ll be watching for that, and I can’t risk going cross-country. Even if we stay off the interstate, we could get caught on the wrong camera. I like it. No one will think to follow us on the water.”

The boat settled beside the dock.

Hunter eyed the solid woman with a hat tilted on wild red hair. She stood on the bow. She also clearly ran things. The old guy at her side secured the boat and they strode over to Doc.

“So, what’s so urgent I left a week’s worth of fish swimming in the gulf?” She settled her arms on her hips and cocked her head.

“Hunter, this is Marty Zaring, Captain of Precious Memories. She’ll get you near Corpus Christi.”

“He a good guy?” she asked Doc.

“And when have I ever not hooked you up with a good guy?” Doc asked.

Marty winked and held out her hand to Hunter. “Fair enough. So you need passage on the down-low? Just you?”

Hunter motioned to Erin, and she emerged from the shadows, holding Brandon in her arms. “All three of us.”

Marty stared at the baby and her expression softened. “He’s a cute one, all right.”

The grizzled man at her side walked over. “Ain’t he the big boy?” The man’s twinkle transformed his gruffer appearance. The guy could have been Santa Claus.

Erin’s eyes widened, but Brandon reached out to the old guy and grinned.

“Crisp here loves kids. He can help take care of your son,” Marty said.

“His parents need help,” Crisp muttered. “They look like hell.” He lifted Brandon above his head and he chuckled. “Get on the boat, you two. I’ll take care of the young’n.”

“I haven’t given permission, Unc,” Marty groused.

“Well...Captain...you actually gonna turn these three down?”

“No,” the woman grumbled. “Get on board.”

Doc leaned over to Hunter. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Hunter shook Doc’s hand. “If you ever need anything—”

“I’ll come looking. You owe me. Again,” Doc said. “Keep that family safe. And, Hunter...think twice about letting them go. You may regret it.”

Doc turned to Erin and gave her a hug. “Take care of him. He won’t take care of himself. Clean his back and make sure he takes the antibiotics I gave him.”

“I’m right here,” Hunter pointed out.

“And you suck at following orders, my friend.” He saluted Marty and disappeared into the night.

Marty stepped forward and planted her hands on her hips. “Now that Doc’s escaped, I have a few ground rules. This is my boat. I make the rules.” She looked Hunter up and down. “I have to agree with Unc. You both look like hell. I have one extra cabin below, right past the galley. Get some rest, please. I don’t want to have to chuck a dead body over the side. Coast Guard frowns on that sort of thing. Besides, I want you two out of sight most of the trip. There may not be quite as many cameras in the gulf as on land, but there are a few, and I already recognize the doctor from the television.”

Hunter picked up the duffel and took one last look around. Nothing unusual, still deserted. Maybe they’d caught a break.

“You have weapons?” Marty asked.

“A submachine gun.”

“Just keep them out of my way, but if we run into trouble, there’s a cabinet in the galley with a padlock. You’ll find what you need in there.”

Hunter followed Erin over to Brandon. She held out her arms, but their son was fascinated with Crisp. He juggled Brandon and chuckled when the boy tugged at his beard. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna make a sailor out of you, just like I did my nephew’s wife. But you won’t take over, will you, boy?” The sailor lifted Brandon over his head. “Whew! You’re ripe, kiddo. Diaper change for you.”

Without asking, he plucked Erin’s makeshift diaper bag stuffed in the pocket on the side of the duffel. She and Hunter followed. Within seconds, the old seaman whisked one diaper aside and replaced it with another.

Hunter met Erin’s gaze. “Faster than you, sweetheart.”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Erin admitted.

Hunter nodded, wanting to follow his son and not let him out of sight. Crisp took the baby right outside the bridge.

“Captain’s orders. You two go below. I’ll keep him with me.”

Erin shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Look, honey, I understand, but below it gets pretty rough. At least in the fresh air your son has less chance of being sick.”

Erin looked over at Hunter, still uncertain.

A loud whistle sounded and a spotlight flashed on. It swept across the bay.

“Get down,” Crisp said.

Hunter dragged Erin to the deck. With the light they could make out a large yacht. “Marty is right. We need to stay out of sight. Both of us.”

“Good thinking, young man.” Crisp smiled. “I’ll watch your son. I give you my word. It’s my bond.”

Something in the man’s eyes made Hunter nod. He ducked down beneath the deck and took Erin by the hand.

“Brandon will be okay?” she asked, biting her lip.

“I think so. Crisp can’t take off with him—not that he would—and I don’t want him to get sick.”

She let out a small sigh and bobbed her head in agreement. They headed down the steps. The small galley was clean and pristine. Right past the tiny cooking area he pushed open the door.

A small bed took up the majority of space in the room. Erin looked up at him. “They expect us to stay in here? I don’t know if I can breathe.”

Hunter took in Erin’s pale face. “You can handle this. Just until we get out to sea.”

The engine rumbled to life, and a loud horn sounded.

The boat swayed and lurched forward.

Erin teetered, then planted her feet. “This is crazy. How did we get here?”

He ran his knuckle along her cheek. “Life doesn’t always work out like we plan. But we’ll be okay. It’ll work out.”

“I know you’re trying to calm me down, Hunter, but seriously. Given our luck the past few days, don’t you think we should expect a hurricane?”

The boat lurched again, and Erin fell into Hunter in the small space. He caught her arms and looked down at her, his gaze hooded.

She knew that look. Knew it well. Her palms itched to tug Hunter closer and give in to the tension that had been rekindling between them. She knew it was dangerous to give in to her feelings.

Hunter might be determined to help them, but he didn’t intend to make anything long-term. She wouldn’t beg. She and Brandon had done just fine without Hunter. They would again.

No matter what kind of life they ended up with.

“I should rebandage your back,” she said. “I promised Doc.”

Hunter’s gaze narrowed; then he seemed to back away. The spark nearly igniting the room diminished. “You’re right,” he said.

He slipped off his shirt and lay down on the bed.

Erin held her breath. Now that she wasn’t concerned about him dying on her, she could take in the beauty of his shape. He really was perfection. The broad shoulders, the narrow waist, the defined muscles, his strength.

She reached into the duffel and pulled out the kit Doc had left.

“This might hurt.”

“I trust you to be gentle,” he said.

She didn’t know how long it took her to remove and rebandage his injuries, but when she covered the last one, Erin swayed. She’d hurt him, and he hadn’t made a sound.

She plopped on the bed.

Hunter lay on his side. “I didn’t feel a thing,” he whispered.

“Liar.”

“Maybe,” he acknowledged. “Wouldn’t you rather I lie?”

She didn’t have to consider. “No. I try to be honest. Lying just brings trouble.” She settled on the bed and tucked her legs to her chin.

“Sometimes it keeps you alive,” Hunter said.

“I can see how you’d think that, but I’m not very good at it. My mom could always tell when I lied.”

She laid her cheek on her knees.

“You’ve never mentioned your parents before.” Hunter stroked her arm with a finger. Erin shivered under his touch.

“Not exactly bedroom conversation. And I don’t think we left that bed the whole week on Santorini.”

“That’s not true,” Hunter protested. “We visited the beach.”

“Yeah, your private beach. Nude. And we didn’t stay vertical for long. Doesn’t count.”

“That was some week.” Hunter tucked his arm beneath his ear. “Do you regret it?”

“How can I? I got Brandon.” Erin toyed with the soft material of her T-shirt. “And I think I might very well be stuck in some terrorist’s camp right now if we hadn’t met. I understand what you did, Hunter, but next time, just tell me what’s going on. Don’t kidnap me again.”

* * *

LEONA TAPPED HER FOOT on the floor of the secure infirmary. Antiseptic burned her nose and she waited.

The doctor exited through the door and swiped his badge.

“Well?” Leona said.

“I can’t believe the guy is alive. He’s going to need a lot of plastic surgery on his face and a prosthetic eye, but he’s strong enough to talk to you.”

Leona motioned to Trace. “Follow my lead.”

He nodded his assent. She slipped her clearance into the reader and keyed in her code. With a deep breath, she walked inside.

The man lying in the bed had half his face swathed in bandages, an IV drip leading into his arm and straps securing him to the bed.

“Mr. Mahew, I presume.”

He tried to shift against the restraints. Leona held out a folder. “You had a promising career. You qualified for Special Forces, surprisingly enough passed the psych exam, were an efficient assassin. And then you screwed up and earned yourself a dishonorable discharge. How does a man go from decorated hero to murderer? Hmmm?”

Terence toyed with the sheets. “Maybe I got fed up with the hypocrisy. Maybe I got tired of taking orders. Maybe I just like killing people and I got a better offer.”

“I see. Money. It’s what drives some people.” Leona leaned over the bed. “But not you, does it, Mahew? We received some very interesting information from your hometown. When you were a teenager, a few too many farm animals went missing. Even a pet or two. No one could prove anything, but your mother—”

“Leave my mama out of this,” Terence shouted.

Trace stepped in front of Leona and jammed his forearm against Terence’s throat. “You raise your voice again, slimeball, and you’ll wish I hadn’t saved your life,” he said.

Leona patted Trace’s arm for show. The man should have been an actor. He backed away. “So, Terence, your mother doesn’t have to know the details of your extracurricular activities. She seems like a God-fearing woman. But to keep your actions quiet, I need some leverage. I need to provide my boss with information.”

Terence shook his head. “I don’t know anything. I only talked to them on the phone. I don’t know who he was. We never met.”

“You’d recognize his voice?”

“Yeah. I guess. Had sort of a British accent with a bit of Arabic thrown in. All I know is that he wanted Dr. Jamison and her kid. He wanted them both alive.”

“This isn’t new information, Terence,” Leona chastised. “You’re going to need to do better if you want to get out of this facility alive.” She leaned over him and walked her fingers from his breastbone to his neck. She pressed her thumb against one carotid artery, and her fingers on the second. “Think, Terence.”

One eyelid blinked several times. The man grew paler as she increased the force against the vulnerable arteries. He understood exactly what she was doing.

With her other hand, Leona toyed with the area just below his ear. His vagus nerve. The right blow and she could stop his heart from beating.

“Okay, okay,” Terence said. “Just let me breathe.”

She released her grip and folded her arms in front of her. “I’m waiting.”

Terence gulped in some air. “When I told my contact a guy with skills helped Dr. Jamison escape, my client didn’t hesitate. He blurted out a name.”

Leona leaned toward him. “What did he call the man?” she asked.

“Graham.”

Oh, boy. The implications pierced Leona’s gut. Graham’s name was top secret. If the person who had hired Terence knew that name, then they had an insider.

It could be anyone.

Particularly someone new.

Leona whirled around to Trace. “Get out,” she said, unable to keep the fury from her voice.

“Ma’am?”

“I said get out. Wait for me in my office, and don’t talk to anyone.”

Back stiff, Padgett walked out of the room, closing the door quietly.

Leona paced. She couldn’t breathe. She had to think. Hunter and Erin were in even more danger than she’d realized. She had to pinpoint the threat.

“You said the caller had a Middle Eastern accent. I need you to think, Terence. Was the man you spoke with faking the accent?”

She’d tipped her hand, but she had to ask the question.

“If I tell you, will you get me out of here?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, lady. I’ll play.”

For several moments Terence just stared at her. Finally, he spoke.

“Here’s the thing. If I had to bet, I’d say he was faking. His English was too good.”

Leona turned on her heel and opened the door.

“Wait a minute. I want out.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Leona said.

For now, she had a traitor to track down, and she had to make contact with Hunter. He’d cut her off, but he needed to know that he wasn’t safe. Not anywhere.

If this was an inside job, then whoever wanted Erin Jamison had the means to find her, no matter where they hid.

* * *

THE BOAT ROCKED BENEATH THEM, and Hunter studied the profile of the woman who’d lain in his arms all night. She’d been through so much, and it wasn’t over, not by a long shot. He’d give anything to make it better.

A loud bellowing horn sounded.

Erin stirred, then stretched, the material showcasing her lush curves.

Hunter swallowed. What he wouldn’t give—

A loud shout catapulted Hunter to his feet.

Erin bolted up. “What was that?”

Thundering footsteps rushed down the stairs. Crisp threw open the door, his eyes frantic. Blood ran down his cheek.

“We’re being boarded.”

“Where’s Brandon?” Erin shouted.

“My room,” Crisp said.

Erin raced to the old man’s room and scooped up Brandon.

“Get in the cabin,” Hunter said. “Barricade the door and keep the gun trained on it. Don’t let anyone in but me.”

She nodded.

Hunter grabbed a submachine gun and a Bowie.

Gunfire spewed.

“Marty!” Crisp yelled.

Hunter led them up the stairs. He bolted onto the deck.

A man dressed in black had pinned Marty. “Where are the woman and the kid?”

Marty elbowed the guy in the chest. He whirled her around and slugged her across the cheek.

She went down.

Crisp bellowed and raised his weapon.

Before he could pull the trigger, though, Hunter took the shot. The guy dropped like a stone.

A grappling hook soared over the side of the boat. “There are more coming.”

“Not if I can help it,” Hunter said.

He raced to the rail and sprayed the two men rappelling up the side of the boat. They sank below the water.

Arms grabbed him from behind. Hunter twisted.

The guy countered his move.

What the hell?

Hunter slipped his leg between his attacker’s.

Another counter.

The guy knew his moves, had the same training.

“Bet you don’t know this one,” Hunter grunted.

He pulled a variation on a high school wrestling move. The guy lost his balance. Hunter didn’t need another opening. He slammed the heel of his hand against the guy’s nose. Just that fast, it was over. The guerrilla hit the deck, unseeing, unmoving.

Hunter whirled around.

A siren sounded.

“Precious Memories. This is the Coast Guard. Prepare to be boarded.”

A splash sounded on the side, then the roar of a Zodiac’s outboard motor.

Crisp shouted and rushed over to a downed Marty, hidden behind a large crane. “You okay, honey?” He cupped his niece’s cheek.

She blinked. “That wasn’t fun,” she groused.

Hunter bent over her. Marty’s nose was broken, and her cheek bruised. “You’re going to have quite the shiner. Nice move, though.”

Marty clutched the fire truck pendant around her neck. “I had a good teacher.”

A spotlight shone on the deck.

“Get below,” Marty hissed. “I’ll keep them busy. There’s an escape raft tucked on the outside of the boat, starboard side, away from the Coast Guard cutter. They can’t find you here.”

Hunter clasped Marty’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Just keep your family safe, Hunter. No one deserves to lose theirs.”

She kissed the pendant and then closed her eyes.

“Marty!”

Hunter placed his hands against her neck. She’d just passed out.

The old man’s eyes glistened with tears. “I can’t lose her, too.”

“You won’t. She’s tougher than both of us.”

The cutter attached itself to Precious Memories.

“Get out of here,” Crisp said. “She’ll wring my neck if you get caught.”

“Show yourself,” a voice bellowed over a megaphone.

Crisp stood, hands raised. “We need medical attention.”

Hunter sneaked down the stairs to Erin. God bless her, she’d already packed everything. “Did I ever tell you you’re one smart woman?” Hunter said.

He hauled the duffel over his shoulder and led Erin to the galley.

“Aren’t we going on deck?” she asked.

“Not if we don’t want to be interrogated.” Hunter knelt below the table and pressed out. Sea air flowed in. He peered outside. Clear. The raft was right where Marty had described.

Within minutes, Hunter had the boat inflated. He bundled Erin and Brandon into the boat and tossed in their supplies.

He glanced at the shore. Thank goodness they were close. They paddled away from the boat and the flashing sirens.

“Where are we?” Erin whispered. She kept looking over her shoulder.

“South of Corpus Christi. Hopefully our ride will be here. We’re not that far off schedule.”

Hunter maneuvered the raft between boats. They’d made it. As covertly as possible, he hit the shore and crouched behind a building. Erin held Brandon.

Soon a sheriff’s car pulled up across the way.

Hunter held out his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Cops?”

“Not just any cop. You’re about to meet one of the few lawmen I can believe in. Blake Redmond. The sheriff from Carder, Texas.”

A soft rumbling noise sounded from a pier not far away. Hunter squinted toward the sound. He waited and watched.

No movement.

No nothing.

A bad feeling skittered down his spine. He grabbed Brandon. “We’re not staying here any longer. Let’s go.”

They ran to the sheriff’s car.

Hunter dove into the backseat.

“Go! Go! Go!”