Chapter One
WYATT
March
“There’s a boat.”
“Pretty sure it’s a yacht.”
“Nope. It’s a boat.”
“Why’s there a yacht-like boat in the combat zone?”
“Better question: Can we make it go boom?”
“Within the parameters of our war games with the Brits?”
“Does it matter?”
“Oi, Earp. Get your twats to shut the bloody hell up, will you? They’re clogging up our airwaves. Are they comedians or soldiers?” The dry humour in Hamish Ross’s voice echoed loudly in Wyatt’s ear where he’d been working valiantly to ignore the chatter from his team. “You listening?”
“We’re Navy SEALs, Hamster, not soldiers. We leave that grunt shit to you.” Wyatt couldn’t help needling his old friend and SAS counterpart. They’d worked together multiple times over the years, sharing secrets, wounds, and beers. “Hey, Ross, any clue why there’s a vessel in our designated dive area?”
“None.” Hamish spoke in muffled tones to someone, and a long silence stretched before he returned to Wyatt. “Shouldn’t be there, Earp. We’re picking up four warm bodies on the thermal camera. They’re not ours—or yours. Boat’s registered to a local rental company, the owner claims only one person should be on it. A botany student from Cardiff.”
“A botany student from Cardiff?” Wyatt glanced over at Trace, who looked almost as confused as he felt. “Why the fuck would a—You know what, never mind—what are we doing?”
“Maybe you American comedians should make sure she didn’t find more than flora and fauna, eh?” Hamish suggested sharply. “We’ll monitor from here.”
“Typical Brits, making us do all the work.”
Wyatt “Earp” Hardy could easily remember every moment over the course of his lengthy career in the navy when a chill had gone down his spine before a mission. It was a strange foreboding that caused him to tread more cautiously, whatever they found on the vessel wouldn’t be pretty.
Tapping his fingers against the edge of the Zodiac, Wyatt drew the attention of his unit—one element of the sixteen men who made up one of the eight SEAL teams in the United States Navy. After a short whispered briefing, the four men shifted from jovial to deadly serious. Their training mission with the Royal Marines had quite clearly morphed into a potentially life-or-death situation; he should’ve been surprised, but he’d grown accustomed to things going FUBAR on him.
Trace Tifft, his second in command, killed the engine when they were close enough to drift up to the anchored boat. Wyatt couldn’t help wondering what in the world a botany student was doing off a deserted island near Anguilla on her own. Shouldn’t she have brought other researchers with her?
Quietly tying up their skiff to the larger vessel, the SEALs easily climbed from one to the other. Splitting up into two groups, they silently moved from the back up toward the cabin. Two men stood facing away from them, sharing a joint and chatting oblivious to the danger.
The evening shadows offered the perfect cover for them and they easily subdued two armed targets at the front of the chartered boat. Wyatt quickly assessed the situation, trying to determine the easiest way to rescue the researcher. A relatively high-pitched scream raised the hairs on his arm, and the SEALs converged on the entrance to the cabin.
A few quick hand signals guided two of the team, Adam and Cole, to opposite sides of the narrow stairs. Wyatt took point—always. Trace would be directly on his six. Always. They’d known each other since before joining the military and had been through every awful moment of boot camp, selection, and training together.
Deciding to go with a less-than-subtle approach, Wyatt breached the room with a little more force than finesse. One bullet to the leg put the remaining combatant on the ground, taken out in the process of lifting his weapon. Seeing the blatant torture to the botanist’s body, he had to rein in a sudden intense anger.
With a deep breath to try to release some of his rage, Wyatt forced his eyes away from the young woman. He made a concerted effort to relax his tense muscles, pulling on years of experience to control his temper. Trace exchanged glance with him before motioning for the other two to help him move the bleeding assailant toward the entrance.
The cabin on the boat didn’t provide much space for four large men. Wyatt sent Adam and Cole topside to coordinate with the Brits for medics. They’d have to decide who had jurisdiction to deal with the now tied-up trio of terror.
Out of the four men, Wyatt had the most combat medic training and his attention was drawn to the injured victim. He crouched down in front of the botanist. She’d been tied to a pipe overhead, her clothes had been slashed up, and… sweeping the young woman’s long brown hair out of her face told him that his initial assessment had been a mistake.
The botanist turned out to be a young man. A beautiful one. He looked like a painting Wyatt had once seen of a Navajo warrior. His colouring might’ve been a bit paler, perhaps signifying a mixed descent.
His hands wanted to clench into fists and pummel the bastard who’d slashed up the botanist. Wyatt could see burn marks through the holes in his clothing. He’d become a SEAL to protect the innocent, and his rage grew by the second.
“I’m about to cut the ties on your wrists. Breach is going to wrap an arm around your body to keep you from collapsing. Can you hear me?” Wyatt kept up a steady stream of conversation. He had no idea if the man was even aware at this point, but having seen the aftermath of torture, he thought it would be wise to talk through every move they made. “I’m opening my knife. Promise on my life that I’m only going to set you free.”
Trace got an arm around the kid to hold him up. “You’re going to be fine. You’re in good hands.”
The botanist’s dark brown eyes shifted from Trace over to Wyatt with only the barest hint of any recognition that he’d been rescued. His voice trembled, stammering over the words that came out in a rushed whisper. “Fine? You promise? Don’t say yes. Not sure I’d believe you right now.”
Wyatt’s heart went out to the battered young man who sounded a breath away from his breaking point. “Even if you don’t believe me just yet, I promise we’ll keep you safe.”