Chapter Twenty-Five
Trinity Sands Resort
Main Building
Pool Area
The old servant’s entrance was difficult to find. In fact, if not for the hotel’s blueprints, they never would have spotted it on the back side of the building behind the slabs of rock that made up the pool’s massive waterslide. No possible way the bad guys could’ve known about this entrance, and a quick check from Ian and Tank proved the door wasn’t rigged with explosives. It took some doing to pry the door open—the hinges had rusted from the contact spray of the waterslide. Marcus and Danny put their combined strength into pulling on the door and it finally creaked open enough that Lanie and Seth, the only two with guns, were able to duck inside. He went left, and she went right.
“Clear,” Seth whispered.
“Clear,” Lanie echoed.
Holy hell. They’d gotten in without being spotted. They might actually have a shot at pulling this off.
Marcus stepped in behind them and looked around. The walls on all three sides of the large room were lined with industrial washers and dryers. “Laundry room?”
Lanie consulted the blueprints on her phone and nodded. “Second floor. If we go out that way”—she indicated the large metal doors directly in front of her—“we’ll find storage, the kitchen, and eventually wind up in the restaurant. That way”—she pointed over her shoulder at a smaller door on the wall behind her—“to the main hallway. It’s more direct, but also more open to discovery. Either direction, we’ll find stairs. How much risk do we want to take?”
When nobody spoke, she glanced up. In the light from her phone’s screen, she saw the men were all looking at her expectantly. It made her uncomfortable. “What?”
“You got us this far,” Marcus said. “And I, for one, trust you enough to get us the rest of the way.”
The rest of the group nodded and murmured agreements.
Oh. Wow. That might be the nicest thing any of them had ever said to her. Her throat closed up, but she swallowed down the emotion. She couldn’t go girly on them now. Not when they’d put so much trust in her. She studied the blueprints again, and thought back to what she’d seen in the lobby.
“They don’t have enough men,” she said softly.
“Neither do we,” Ian said.
“But they don’t have any reinforcements coming and they can’t spare men to guard both stairwells. So we’ll go to both. We’ll split up.”
“That never ends well in horror movies,” Marcus pointed out.
She looked at him. “You said you trust me. I know this is our best option.”
Marcus glanced around at the others, then lifted a shoulder. “You’re the boss. Point me in the direction you need me to go, and I’ll go.”
She wondered what she had done to invoke such loyalty. Was it something new that had only just developed tonight? Or had it always been there and she’d been too wrapped up in her own worries to see it? She didn’t know, but it hardly mattered now. Fact was, she’d managed to win these guys over and, suddenly, she felt more like a member of the team than ever before.
“Okay,” she said because she couldn’t think of another reply. “Okay. You, Seth, and Danny go through the restaurant.” As she spoke, she sent the blueprints to each of their phones. “Ian, Tank, and I will take the more direct route since we’ll be more likely to run into explosives.”
“What if we come across one?” Danny asked.
Ian handed him a pair of wire cutters.
Danny winced. “Cut the red wire?”
Ian gave a smile that was just a little bit evil. “It’s never the red wire.”
“Great.” Danny’s voice came out a bit higher than usual. He slid the wire cutters into a pocket and cleared his throat. “Let’s hope I don’t need those.”
“Be careful,” Lanie told them as they turned away as a unit.
“Little hand says it’s time to rock and roll.” Marcus grinned back at her and gave the “hang loose” hand signal before slipping through the big double doors, following Seth and Danny.
She glanced over at Ian. “Did he just quote Point Break?”
He rolled his eyes. “Guy’s a walking movie encyclopedia. Haven’t you notice the recruits trying to stump him with movies quotes all week?”
No, she hadn’t. And why did that thought make her mildly uncomfortable? Because, she realized, she had deliberately been secluding herself from the rest of the team. She’d had her mind made up that they didn’t want her, that she didn’t fit in with them, so she hadn’t really tried to be a teammate.
“I’m sorry.”
Ian, already across the room and pulling open the door that would take them to the main hallway, paused. At his side, Tank also froze, instinctively knowing he wasn’t supposed to go through the door until his master did.
Lanie shook her head. “I’ve been a complete bitch, haven’t I?”
“Yeah,” Ian said in his typical blunt way. “But we, uh, haven’t exactly gone easy on you, either.”
“God. I was so sure y’all didn’t want me on the team, I didn’t even give you a chance.”
“Well, you’re on the team now, huh? All’s good.” Ian looked as if he’d rather have a root canal with a spoon than continue this conversation. He jerked his head toward the hall. “Want Tank and me to take the lead or—”
Tank’s ears pricked and his body went rigid as if preparing for an attack. A low growl rumbled from his throat. Ian made a hand signal and the dog instantly fell silent, but he didn’t relax. It was another second before Lanie heard what the dog had picked up—someone was walking up the hallway. If she remembered the blueprints right, that person was headed to the stairs at the end of the long hall, which was precisely where she and Ian needed to go.
“Shift change?” Ian whispered. He didn’t move. Still stood with his hand on the door knob, the door half open. If he shut it now, they’d be found out. But if they let the guy go, they’d be making more work for themselves. It’d be much harder to take out two guards.
Shit.
Lanie glanced around, spotted one of the huge rolling laundry bins. Yeah. That could work. “Let the door shut. Draw his attention.”
Ian looked back at her in surprise, then nodded when he saw where she was going. Tank was all but vibrating with the need to act, but he sat when Ian gave him the signal. Ian took his hand off the knob. The door didn’t slam, but it was loud enough to draw the attention of the guy in the hall.
Just as she expected, footsteps rushed toward the door. The Tango slammed through, and the moment he did, she shoved the rolling cart at him. The heavy bin hit him squarely in the middle and he folded in half. Ian pounced on him from behind, arm barred across the man’s throat, while Tank growled and bit at his legs. He made a strangled sound of pain just before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out from lack of oxygen.
Ian released him the second his body went slack, and so did Tank. “Good boy, Tanky.” He picked up the man’s weapon, which had dropped to the floor, and slung the strap over his shoulder. “That’s more like it. Now we’re both armed.” He nudged the man’s leg with the toe of his boot. “What should we do with this asshole? I’m all for killing him, but—”
She was already shaking her head. “No.”
“That’s what I figured you’d say. You’re too much like Jesse.”
The man was starting to stir. She bent over, fisted her hand in his shirt, and hauled him halfway off the floor. “How many of your guys are upstairs?”
He mumbled something incoherent. She shook him, and when that didn’t work, she smacked his cheek hard enough that her own palm stung. “How many?”
“One,” he said hoarsely. “J-just one.”
She slammed him back to the ground and his head bounced off the floor. The blow rendered him unconscious again. She straightened to find Ian staring at her with lifted brows.
“Not that much like Jesse,” she said.
He whistled softly. “Yeah. Noticed that.” He waved a finger between her and the unconscious man. “Saint Jesse wouldn’t like that.”
“Because he’s a healer at heart and hates violence. That’s why—” She stopped short. She had been about to say, “That’s why he struggled in Delta Force,” but knowing Ian wasn’t Jesse’s favorite person, she thought better of it. She doubted Ian was aware of Jesse’s history with depression and alcoholism, and frankly it wasn’t any of his business. She pulled several zip ties from her pocket and set to work restraining their prisoner. “We need to move or Marcus, Seth, and Danny will get upstairs before us.”
Thankfully, Ian let her slide without elaborating further. He walked over to one of the storage shelves lining the room, grabbed a washcloth, and wadded it into their prisoner’s mouth, before taping his mouth shut with a strip of duct tape.
He readied his newly acquired weapon and together, they crept out into the hallway. The trip to the stairwell at the far end was tense, but uneventful. They went up one floor and paused on the landing. This was the hard part. Their target had the high ground. If things were going to go sideways on them, it’d happen now.
One floor up, they could hear the guard moving around on the next landing.
Ian made a hand motion, basically indicating they should rush the guard.
Lanie shook her head and pointed to Tank. She knew from experience the dog was as good as a weapon.
Ian looked down at Tank. The dog sat at Ian’s feet and stared up adoringly. Ian’s lips tightened into a grim line. She knew he was worried for his dog. She imagined it was the same way a parent felt while dropping their child off for the first day of school. He needn’t worry, though—she’d seen Tank in action and she wouldn’t send him if she thought he couldn’t handle the guard.
She waved a hand to get Ian’s attention again and mouthed, “Trust him.”
After a pause, he nodded. But still, he hesitated before sucking in a breath and giving Tank the attack hand signal. The dog bolted up the stairs, and the guard let out a scream of pain that echoed in the cavernous stairwell. Ian rushed up directly on his dog’s heels, and Lanie was a step behind him. Still, by the time they got there, Tank had the guy on the ground.
Ian called Tank off and pointed his weapon at the guard’s face while she kicked his dropped gun away from his reach. The man was pale, shaking, leaking blood from a deep bite high on his shoulder.
“It’s over,” she told him.
He only groaned in response and she rolled him over to secure his arms behind his back with a zip tie.
Once Ian was sure she had the guard secure, he lowered his weapon and knelt down to ruffle the fur around Tank’s neck. “You’re such a good boy, Tank. Such a good boy.”
Tank’s tail thunked on the floor and he gave his doggie grin that was no less cute for the blood staining his muzzle.
Lanie went to the door. “Connor?”
No sound came from the other side. She tapped on the door, and called more loudly, “Connor!”
There was some shuffling, then, “I’m here!”
She breathed a soft sigh of relief. “Okay. Back up. We’re diffusing the explosive on the door.”
She glanced back at Ian, who stood and pulled his pack off his shoulders. She stepped aside to allow him better access to the door. To her, the explosive on the frame looked complicated, but after a quick study, Ian snorted with disgust.
“Amateur hour.”
“Is it dead?” she asked.
“Oh, it’ll go boom, and it’ll cause damage, but there’s no finesse here. It’s sloppy. Any kid with access to the internet and a handful of household goods could cook this up. It’s way below Defion’s usual standards.”
She watched him work for one minute, and then another. Each second seemed to stretch out into a year. Full of nervous energy, she paced over to the landing to check down the stairs and make sure they were still clear. If the explosive was as easy as he said it was, why was it taking so long? “Ian. We need to hurry.”
“Yeah, yeah. Something’s…not right about this.” His hands worked quickly and agilely as he followed each wire to its source. It was almost like watching a pianist make music.
“Goddammit.” He hung his head, gave it a slow shake. “It’s the fucking red wire.”
Her heart jumped. “I’ll text Danny.” She hoped to God he wasn’t in the process of cutting the wrong wire. Thankfully, he replied right back. And when he did, another text popped up at the same time. From Jesse. She ignored Danny’s and read his.
“Oh. Shit.”
Ian glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. He was nearly done removing the explosive material from the door. “If Danny cut the wrong wire, don’t worry. I was fucking with you. As I said, this isn’t advance ordnance disposal here. He could cut any wire and diffuse it.”
Scowling, she pointed at him. “Okay, one: you’re an asshole.”
He shrugged, unapologetic. “It’s my default setting.”
“And two: I’m not swearing at Danny. It’s Jesse. He traded himself for one of the hostages.”
Now Ian was swearing. “That altruistic fucker is gonna get himself killed.”
“Careful. Someone might think you actually care about him.”
“I do,” Ian said so softly she wondered at first if he’d actually replied or if she’d heard wrong. But then he added, “Whether I like it or not. He’s one of my people now and I don’t like seeing my people hurt.”
She stared at him for a beat. She’d never thought of him as untrustworthy or deviant like Jesse did, but he was volatile and always seemed on the knife’s edge of anger. His moral compass didn’t always point north. But there was also more to him than that. “You’re a good guy, Ian.”
“Yeah, well.” He shifted from one foot to the other as if the compliment made him uncomfortable. “Don’t go around telling people. I have a reputation.” Without waiting for a response, he focused his full attention back on the explosive. A moment later, he pulled the door open. She didn’t have time to react because a tall, skinny body raced out and slammed into her. Thin arms wrapped around her shoulders and squeezed tight.
Connor.
The hug stunned her, but also reminded her that he was just a boy. He’d been so brave and mature throughout this ordeal, it had been easy to forget he wasn’t a trainee or an operative, wasn’t even an adult.
“Hey.” She patted his back awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Then she thought, fuck it, and wrapped her arms around him in return. He was okay. The overwhelming sense of relief had tears pricking the backs of her eyes.
Over Connor’s shoulder, she caught Ian’s brief grin before he hid it. He liked the kid, too. Then he shouldered his pack again and stepped through the door into the crowd waiting on the other side. “Where’s Jean-Luc?”
She tried to push Connor back, but he wouldn’t let go. “Hey. Buddy. We have work to do.”
He swallowed hard enough that she felt his throat work against her chest. He was crying, and that’s why he didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want the others to see, and she couldn’t blame him for needing to preserve a bit of his dignity. She ran a hand over his hair. “They’re gone. They went with Ian.”
“Good.” He drew back, but instead of the tears she expected, his eyes were dry and serious. “You need to know Schumacher’s not on our side. He’s working with the guys downstairs, but I also think he was put in the training program for some other reason. Maybe even to hurt someone.”
Okay, so not as much a boy as she thought. He was still calm and collected. The kid was too much like his father for his own good.
Lanie frowned down at him. “How do you know all this?”
“He’s made phone calls. I’ve listened.”
Smart kid. “Okay. We need to make sure he doesn’t—”
A long, raw, primal scream that was more rage than fear sliced through the air, and cut off just as abruptly as it began.
Lanie instinctively pushed Connor behind her and pulled her weapon as she searched for the source of the danger. Up the hallway, several of the recruits were backing away from a room, hands raised. She couldn’t see Ian, but Tank’s growl would’ve put Cujo to shame.
“Stay here,” she told Connor and shouldered through the wall of muscled recruits. She peeked into the room as she passed and saw Ian holding Tank’s collar. The sole female recruit, Samira, was distraught, leaning over one of the two beds. Blood stained the sheets, and it didn’t take any medical training to know the woman on the bed was very dead. She’d been shot, twice, execution-style.
“Schumacher,” Ian said in explanation. “He has Jean-Luc.”
She cleared the doorway and the last of the recruits in time to see Schumacher drag a semi-conscious Jean-Luc into one of the elevator cars. The doors closed before she reached them and she banged a fist against the metal.
“What happened?” she demanded as Ian came up behind her.
“Fuck if I know.”
“Shit.” She pounded a fist against the elevator door again. She faced Ian and the recruits, first searching for Connor to make sure he was safe. The rest of the recruits seemed none the worse for wear. In fact, she was met with a whole lot of flat, down-to-business stares. Even Samira, eyes wet and hands covered with Tiffany Peters’s blood, appeared ready to take up the good fight.
And they were all looking to her for guidance.
When did that happen?
And what the hell did she do now?
“We’ve lost our element of surprise, and now they have two more of our guys as hostages.” As she spoke, she took out her phone to text Marcus, Danny, and Seth, telling them to go back to the restaurant’s balcony, which overlooked the water feature in the lobby. Seth didn’t have his sniper rifle, but she had no doubt he’d be able to make a shot with the weapon he had if the situation came to it. Plus, having eyes up above the action was never a bad thing.
“Two?” Connor asked.
She looked him square in the eye. He’d find out soon enough so there was no sense in beating around the bush. “Your dad traded himself for one of the civilian hostages.”
Connor went white. “Dad did what?”
“He’ll be okay,” she assured, and reached out to squeeze Connor’s thin shoulder. At least she’d managed to keep her own fear out of her voice. Hell, she even sounded sure of herself, which was damn near a miracle because inwardly, she was floundering. She caught Jeremiah Wolfe’s gaze and flicked hers pointedly at Connor. Wolfe nodded once and looped an arm around the kid. “C’mon, pal. Let’s get out of here.”
Connor shrugged him off. “I’m staying.”
“No, you’re most definitely not, young man. You’re going with Wolfe to safety.” Lanie didn’t know where that “mom voice” had come from since she never had a mother who was mom enough to learn it from. Maybe it’d been born from the bone-deep fear of picturing Connor caught in the crossfire of what was sure to be a nasty standoff.
Of course, Connor got that mulish Jesse expression on his face. The one that said he was about to dig in his heels and would only be moved by an act of God. Save her from Warrick men.
“Connor, please.” She went with instinct and pulled him into her arms. She hadn’t meant for her voice to crack on his name. “I can’t do my job unless I know you’re safe.”
Truer words had never been spoken, she realized. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate unless she knew Connor and the rest of them were safely out of the hotel. She released Connor and studied the group. Her gaze found Ian’s, and he gave a small nod. He was thinking along the same lines. “All right. Everyone, follow Ian. He’s going to lead you to the door we came in. If you have a weapon, take it with you.”
“Hang on.” Sami ducked into her room and came back a second later with her laptop bag slung across her shoulders. “What?” she said defensively when she noticed her teammates’ stares.
“That’s not a weapon, Geek Girl,” one of the guys pointed out.
She hitched the slipping strap back onto her shoulder. “Harvard says it is, and I happen to agree.”
“Oh, Harvard,” Wolfe teased in a falsetto. “You’re so smart and handsome and I hang on your every word.”
Sami crossed her arms over her chest and fumed. “Keep that up, Wolfey, and I’ll send your browser history to your mother.”
Wolfe shuddered. “Low blow, Geek Girl. Low blow.”
“That’s enough,” Lanie said mildly and then wondered when she became the adult in the room. Surreal. She herded the group toward the door Ian had already gone through. “Move fast and keep quiet.”
As the recruits got serious and filed out, Connor fell into step beside her. “Dad’s going to be okay, right?”
“Jesse knows what he’s doing.” She hoped. But she also knew he could become so focused while helping others that he didn’t always watch out for himself.
Connor said nothing in reply. He stayed silent while Ian led them back to the old servant’s entry in the laundry room. The Tango they had tied up was still there. Not that it mattered. Schumacher would expose them the moment he got to the lobby.
Ian held open the door and the recruits streamed outside, blinking against the early dawn light. “Go down to the beach,” he told each of them as they passed.
Finally, only Connor remained. He stepped toward the door, but hesitated and turned back to face her. “Dad loves you, you know? He didn’t say it when I talked to him earlier, but he never does, does he?”
By some miracle, she didn’t swallow her tongue in surprise. “Uh…no. No, he doesn’t. Talking about stuff like that is hard for him.”
“I kinda get it now. He’s afraid. He went through a bad time when I was little, didn’t he?”
She glanced at Ian, who at least had the grace to pretend he wasn’t listening. Stepping forward, she gripped Connor’s shoulders. “Your dad loves you very much, but you’re right. He struggled and he had a hard time coming back from it. Now he’s afraid of his emotions overtaking him again, so he shields himself by keeping his distance. So our job, as the people who love him most, is to show him he doesn’t need that distance.”
Connor nodded. “I think you’re good for him, Lanie.”
“I think you are, too.” She ruffled his hair and sent him out.
Ian watched him go. “He’s a good kid.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “He is.”
Ian pulled the door shut and took his weapon off his shoulder. “So let’s go save his dad.”