CHAPTER TWENTY

Etienne struggled against the plastic zip ties binding his wrists behind his back.  Another one was wrapped around his ankles.  He didn’t have a lot of wiggle room.  Too bad this time he didn’t have his blade, but he’d given it to Stephanie when they’d been in the rainforest, and he hadn’t seen it since.  If she was smart, she’d have secreted it away somewhere on her body, so she’d have a fighting chance. 

When they’d arrived, he’d been shoved into a room off the kitchen.  From the looks of things, it was probably the cook’s quarters.  Small, it held a few personal touches, like family photos, but nothing he could use as a weapon. 

Shifting his weight, he flung himself onto his back, and rotated his arms, maneuvering them until his tied wrists were beneath his ass.  The strain on his shoulders was killing him, but he persevered, pulling his arms beneath his thighs, and working his hands down his legs until he was able to slide them past his feet.  Now they were in front of him, which gave him a fighting chance. 

Thanks, Dad, for all the escape tactics you taught us boys.  They’ve certainly come in handy this trip.

He rolled until he landed against the bed, using it as leverage to gain his feet.  Walking was difficult, but hopping got him further across the room, until he stood by the French doors leading to the outside patio.  He peered outside, looking for the guards.  Waited and watched.  Finally, a dark-haired man with at least a two-day growth of beard and an unlit cigar clamped between his lips started past the French doors, and Etienne stared.  Dang, he looked familiar.

When the man turned and faced the French doors, Etienne couldn’t bite back his grin, seeing his big brother looking in through the glass.  Ranger’s answering grin was the best thing Etienne had seen all day, not counting Stephanie’s beautiful face. 

Ranger held a finger to his lips, and motioned Etienne to step back.  He tested the door handle, and it didn’t move, obviously locked from the inside. Etienne hopped forward, and reached for the latch at the top of the door, and even with his bound wrists, slid it free, and the doors swung inward.

Ranger stepped inside, and closed the doors quietly behind him.  “Looks like you could use a bit of help, bro.”

“I have never been so happy to see your ugly mug.  Is the whole team here?” Etienne held out his hands, and Ranger sliced through the zip ties on his wrists, before handing the knife to Etienne, who made quick work of the ones around his ankles. 

“Samuel, Gunner, Nate, Carlisle, Jean-Luc, plus Wolf and the Riverton SEAL team.  Commander Hunt diverted their return flight to New Orleans, and we flew down together.  Looks like we’re right on time to party.” 

Etienne shook his hands, working the circulation back into them.  “You got Bas’ message, about Prescott being behind everything?” 

“We got the message.  Carpenter’s been talking to Albert Donnelly, having him stall until we had enough time to get everything in place.  Can you believe Prescott’s gall?  He asked for ten million dollars, and a private jet to Brazil.  Idiot thinks he’d be out of our reach if he’s in a place the size of Brazil.  Guess he thinks he can hide away on the beaches of Rio.  What an ass.” 

Etienne shook his head.  “He’s not thinking about the crowds.  He wants Stephanie out of reach of anybody back home helping her.” 

Ranger pulled a Glock from the small of his back and handed it to Etienne.  “I’d never have guessed our little Stephanie was Jasmine DuBois.  Then again, Jasmine is supposedly buried on the family estate.  Samuel filled us in on her identity change.  And why.” 

Etienne felt his brother’s intense gaze, studying him, waiting for some kind of reaction, but he didn’t have time for any touchy-feely stuff right now.  Prescott had Stephanie locked away somewhere in the villa, and he’d be damned if he’d let the man touch a hair on her head—not while he still drew breath. 

“What’s the situation with the guards?”

Ranger pulled a SIG Sauer from the holster on his hip.  “The guards outside have all been replaced with our men.  Samuel spotted your girl through a window.  She’s holed up in the study with Prescott.  You and me, we need to take out any guards indoors.” 

He ran through the floorplan in his head, remembering where the guards had been stationed on his previous incursion.  “Kitchen’s closest, down the hall and to the right.  Probably two to three in there.  Two more in the foyer, guarding the study door.” 

“Kitchen’s already cleared, bro.  Gunner was feeling a bit hungry, so he took care of it.” 

Etienne made a mental note to buy Gunner a steak dinner when they got home. 

“That leaves two.  No guns, the noise will alert Prescott.”  He paused for a second before adding, “All the hostages safe and accounted for?” 

Ranger grinned.  “They’re all clear.”

“Marie, the second woman, works for Prescott.  Need to get her muffled now.”

Ranger pulled a small radio out of his pocket.  “Wolf, gag the second woman, she’s working with Prescott.  Do not let her near a phone.”

“Got it.”  The hushed reply was succinct, and Etienne knew the SEAL would literally gag Marie if necessary.  The house was clear, except for the two guards, Prescott, and Stephanie. 

“We need to move fast, because there’s no cover once we reach the foyer.  The guards will have a clear line of sight, and see us coming a mile away.”

“I’ll go high, you go low.  Distract and destroy.  Just like the old days, my brother.” 

Distract and destroy—a game he’d played with his brothers when they were kids.  Two against two.  He and Ranger always played high and low, with one man going to higher ground, and providing a distraction for the low man, who swept in from beneath, and took out their opponents, which were usually his older and younger brothers. 

“Don’t get shot.”

Ranger grinned.  “Give me sixty seconds to get in place.”  He shoved the unlit cigar between his teeth.  At his nod, Etienne eased open the bedroom door, and looked left and right.  The villa was eerily quiet. 

He eased through the opening and headed left, toward the foyer, and felt Ranger brush past him, headed for the servants’ staircase.  Etienne needed to give him the minute he’d requested, because timing was critical.  Holding his breath, he counted the seconds, every instinct telling him to rush forward and take out the enemy.  Every muscle taut and ready, he rested on the balls of his feet, anxious to sprint across the space for the few precious seconds of distraction he’d get. 

Deep breath.  Don’t rush.  You’ve done this hundreds of times with Ranger.

Yeah, except this time it’s life and death.  This time Stephanie is the one who can get hurt in the crossfire.  I can’t fail.  No mistakes, no miscalculations.  It’s go time.

“Hey, anybody around here got a light?”  Ranger’s voice boomed from the top of the staircase.  That was Etienne’s signal.

As he raced around the base of the stairs, he noted the guards looking up, and he struck.  A fist to the jaw of one guard staggered him back, and he slid down the wall by the study doors.  A pistol butt to the temple took down the other guard.  A kick to the jaw, and the first guard was out for the count.

Ranger strolled down the stairs like he was homecoming queen, and this was prom night.  “Ready to rescue your gal?” 

When Etienne started toward the study doors, Ranger’s hand came down on his shoulder.  “Carpenter’s outside the study windows at the side of the house.  Prescott was standing by the front window, and Steph was sitting by the desk.  Don’t know if Prescott is armed, but chances are good he is, so proceed with caution.” 

Etienne shook off his hand, gave him a single jerk of his head, so his brother knew he’d heard him.  But Stephanie was in there with that bastard, and he needed to save her.

With the Glock in his hand, he kicked open the study doors, and froze.

Prescott stood there with a mocking smile on his face, and a gun in his hand—pointed at Stephanie’s head.