I grin. “I’m just thinking of ways to keep Cash in the game without being in the game.”
She punches my arm. “You’re a sly dog, Crockett.”
I chuckle.
An hour later, Dirk Sam, our pilot, checks in first. “Inbound with Franks, Black, and Andrews. Malone, Luce, and Cohen in two. Davis pickup in PCB, Florida at refuel.”
Nina answers. “Roger that.”
“Let’s get to The Coop, Foxtrot. There are girls to save.”
She follows me out the door and slides into the Gator ATV next to me. “You know, once in a while, I’d like to get to go out in the field too.”
I cut my eyes at her. “Are you jealous Meghan’s going?”
She nods, “Hell yeah, I am. The Virgin Islands? Come on!”
I laugh at her. “If you can pack all the shit you’ll need in two hours, you can come too.”
She grins, “You bet your ass I can.” Then she throws her arms around me and tries to kiss me.
“HEY! You’re going to make me wreck!” I lean away, but she manages to plant a wet kiss on my cheek. Then she sits down, grabs her phone, and starts a list of gear she’ll need to pack. “I’m going to have to go shopping sometime while we’re there. I’ll need a swimsuit to blend it.”
I grin, “Of course, you will.”
Our S-70 Sikorsky helicopter buzzes overhead. When we arrive at The Coop, our operations station, the guys are already unloaded, and Dirk is pulling pitch to head back to Vegas.
We all walk in together, and usually, since Nina is our targeting officer, she greets everyone, then gives them a quick rundown before the actual mission briefing. But this time, she heads straight back to the warehouse to pack her gear.
Mike Franks, my number two, asks the obvious. “Where is she going?”
“To pack.”
“She’s going with us?” His eyebrows raise.
“I told her if you could pack everything she needs in two hours, then she could come too.”
“And she thinks she can?” Jack Black, my number three, asks, laughing as he walks over to the door and peers in. “Oh, lord!” He chuckles hard and looks back at me. “That was a mistake, brother! She’s a tornado right now, and the warehouse is her trailer park!”
Brody Andrews says, “Dibs on a window seat!”
Just then, Meghan walks through the door with her gear and sets it down. “Let’s roll, boys!”
Mike rolls his eyes and looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind. “Really? The Ambassador is going too?”
I nod. “That’s affirmative.”
Jack shouts, “Dibs on a window seat!” And he and Brody high-five each other.
Meghan looks around, “Where’s Nina?”
I shrug, “Do you honestly think I could tell her no when I told you yes?”
She squeals and runs through the door to the warehouse.
Mike says, “Explain yourself, one.”
So, I tell them what little I know and why Meghan is going.
Mike agrees, “Good call, brother. I’m with you on that decision. She will make an excellent distraction for Cohen. But Nina?”
I shrug again and rephrase my previous answer. “There is no way in hell I could tell her no when it was my idea for Meghan to go. But I did stipulate she has to be packed and ready when the wheels are up. We aren’t waiting on her.”
Mike unzips his bag and looks inside. “So, how old is Cash’s little sister now?”
“She’s old enough to take a trip to the Virgin Islands without a chaperone.”
“Fuck, man, we’re getting old!”
7
Marie
His command to 'stay frosty' is SEAL lingo for 'keep your shit together.' I nod and smirk at him, then give him a slight twitch of an eyewink, and he rolls his eyes.
"Marie, this is not a game. These men are powerful and evil. Violence is the way they maintain control. Blood is the way you win."
I nod and pray that Alejandro can keep me for himself.
"Head bowed. Eyes down. Don't look around. It'll be easier."
I lick my lips and remind him he is a SEAL. "The only easy day was yesterday."
He smiles, "Shush now."
Then the most beautiful man in the world turns away and walks across the parking lot to the building where he will claim me, and right now, at this moment, I am the luckiest girl alive.
To keep his legs in sight with my head bowed, I have to follow right behind him. We weave our way between the jeeps parked in the lot. The asphalt is hot and burns the bottoms of my feet, but I don't dare say anything. There are probably cameras filming everything. Instead, I roll my ankles and walk on the outside edge of my feet.
"Fuck," Alejandro says as he looks back to check on me. Then he squats down and heaves me over his shoulder and carries me to the door. When he sets me down, he says, "My bad, babe."
I stay frosty for him on the outside, but on the inside, I melt. He is not just a good man. He's kind too.
He lifts each foot like a horse farrier and examines the damage, telling me. "No blisters. Nothing a gob of aloe won't heal."
He looks me up and down, then swears. "You're too fucking gorgeous for your own good." He takes off his tank top and slips it over my head. It hangs off me, not hiding anything. It's so big, and he swears again. I lift the shirt, sticking my head in one of the oversized armholes, tie a knot, and make a toga coverup out of it.
He nods, pleased, then turns and walks into the building with me hot on his tail.
We enter into a club-like atmosphere. Using my peripheral vision, I absorb the layout. The first area is a small open bay with wood plank floors that spills into a more significant dance hall atmosphere. Alejandro walks right through without stopping. As we move into the larger area, he heads straight to the bar, and I catch a glimpse of a row of elevated booths on the opposite side. He orders a beer, two double shots of tequila, and a bottle of water. He keeps his back to me, and I maintain my obedient posture. I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me. But no one is talking. Not even murmuring. The only voices speaking are the men who file in and order drinks from the bar.
When Alejandro's order is filled, he slams back both shots of tequila, drains the beer, and then opens the water and turns to offer it to me. "Drink until I tell you to stop."
I lift my hands to take the bottle, but he slaps them away. I ball them up into fists and hold them steady at my side while I lean my head back, and he pours the water haphazardly into my mouth. I choke on the volume, spitting out the excess, and gulp down what lands in my mouth. It runs into my hair and down my neck, partially saturating the white t shirt.
I hear a few men chuckle and assume they enjoyed watching him nearly drown me, but it's equally possible they are enjoying the wet tee shirt view.
He returns the empty water bottle to the bar and walks out onto a covered patio deck that looks over a private lagoon cut off from the ocean by a row of huge boulders. I realize now why the ATVs were necessary. They are used to scale the height of the hill.
Gabriel
The Board hasn't convened yet, but all the pirates are here. Except for my crew, who are unloading and preparing the girls. My hand flicks over my knife as the men mill around, gaining observation points to ogle Marie. She's doing a good job trying to be invisible, but her beauty is a man magnet.