Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2) (25 page)

“Knock it off.” Travis lumbered between them and glared at Mason. “You aren’t thinking clearly. You could have gotten yourself—and us—killed.”

“You’re one to talk.” Mason returned the glare. He remembered all the stupid shit Travis had done in the efforts to get his wife back.

“I know what it looks like. Stop scaring the ladies.”

Mason glanced around the deck. The women stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. He was supposed to be saving them.

“Shit.” He shoved his weapon into his waistband and scrubbed a hand across his face.

Was he losing it? Probably. He’d always lacked perspective when it came to Hannah. Now was not an exception.

“Are you Mason?” the same woman who’d spoken to him earlier edged forward from the rail.

“Hi, yeah.” He turned toward her. There was something familiar about her face, or maybe her nose.

“I’m Rachel. Hannah said you were out there. I didn’t believe her.” The woman wrung her hands together. One side of her face was a little puffy, as if she’d been struck. He couldn’t think about that too much without the urge to commit violence growing. He wished that shooter had lived a little longer.

“Rachel.” The name stuck in his head. The women. Abraham’s girls. “Your cousin. The one that worked for Abraham?”

“Mia?” Rachel blinked.

“She’s been gone for a while?” Mason had no idea what Abraham’s employees names were.

Rachel nodded.

“She’s safe.”

Rachel covered her hand with her mouth. Eyes wide. She stared at him for several seconds.

“Are you sure?” she asked from between her fingers.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe it.” Rachel sat down on some sort of wooden box built onto the deck, her mouth hanging open.

“What do you know about Hannah?” Mason crouched at her side, needing to know something—anything about her.

“She—I wish I would have listened to her.” Rachel’s face twisted into a pained expression. Her words came slowly at first, full of apologies, but the whole story came out. Every bit of it. And it all sounded exactly like Hannah.

“Where’d they take her?” he asked.

“I don’t know. They took her first. I was certain she was dead, but they came back, got another girl, then another. They took all of the Americans and a few of the prettier girls, then left us alone down there.”

“Did you try to escape again?”

“We were too frightened.”

Mason swallowed the words he wanted to say. Too frightened to fight for their lives? Was there such a thing? But he wasn’t a woman trapped in that situation. He couldn’t understand.

“Let me get it all straight.” He had to focus on the details. “They got Hannah, then came back down for one girl at a time?”

“Yes.” Rachel nodded.

“Then she has to still be in the building. It wouldn’t make sense to move them one at a time like that unless...I don’t know.”

“There were no trucks, no banging doors. I could always tell when they were coming and going. I didn’t hear any of that, and I was listening.”

“Damn it.” Mason pushed to his feet.

They’d been there, in the same building with Hannah. And they’d left her. They’d saved the others and left behind the one person who mattered most to him behind. He’d failed her in the worst way possible.

Hannah stared into the darkness at the ceiling. The wetness on her face was from her own tears. She didn’t remember crying, but the evidence was there. Her whole body was numb. Hope had given way to anger and fear, then despair. For a few brief moments, she’d thought a rescue was going to happen—but she was still here. In the darkness. Alone. She didn’t know if she should be scared...or heartbroken.

The blast had shaken the entire building, but she hadn’t been scared. Something like that could only be one thing—Mason. He hadn’t forgotten about her.

The gunfire had scared her. Every bullet, each shot, could put Mason’s life at risk. There’d already been too high a price paid for this trip. He couldn’t die. Not for her.

It had to be Mason, didn’t it? He had come for her, hadn’t he?

After a few moments when she didn’t hear footfalls and no one responded to her yelling, the fear had set in. Mason couldn’t know where she was. No one would. Because she’d tried to save herself. She’d thought she could get them out of there. All she’d succeeded in doing was getting herself stuck. Why was she so stupid? She wasn’t a hero. She wasn’t anyone. And she was still a prisoner.

It had to have been Mason.

And he was either dead—an option she refused to believe—or he’d left. Maybe he got some of the other girls out? She hoped so. Whatever happened to her, she could at least be satisfied knowing a few had been saved. That they would not share the same fate as her.

A door banged open and shadows interrupted the weak arc of light sliding under the door.

Voices spoke at once, and one man yelled. It was all in Spanish, too fast for her to even pick up a word or two. Footsteps thumped past the door and back again. Someone was pacing, and yelling.

Cruz?

It would make sense.

The feet came to a stop outside her door, blocking out almost all of the light.

Oh, God...

She swallowed and pressed her back against the wall, wishing she could sink into it. That the deep gouges would open a door into another room or world and she could sink away from here.

The lock scraped and the one-way doorknob rattled. She squinted as light sliced through her darkened world and a hand grabbed her arm, hauling her out of the closet and into the middle of the room. The cramps in her legs and back screamed in protest, her muscles locking up to the point that she couldn’t move on her own and was instead dragged bodily out into the office.

“This was you, wasn’t it?” Cruz screamed in her face, his finger inches from her nose.

She couldn’t form words. Couldn’t speak. Or think. She swayed on her feet, but somehow remained upright.

Cruz stalked away from her.

She darted a glance at the door, measuring the distance.

Could she run?

There were several other men in the room, none of whom would look at her or anywhere except the floor. Even Dylan was oddly silent from his perch on the leather sofa.

“This man.” Cruz snatched something off the desk and strode back to her, waving it in her face. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”

He waved a grainy security photograph from the resort bar in her face. Mason leaned up against a tall table, beer in hand, head tilted to the side a bit. It would have to have been taken at the party, maybe an hour before he’d drunk the drugged slushie and their worlds had changed.

Her heart pumped painfully. How different things were. That night, all she’d wanted was to be with Mason. To know what it would be like for just one night. Now she was contemplating all the horrible ways she could die. And she’d never see him again. Would never get to tell him that...she loved him.

Cruz grabbed her chin, his fingers curling against her cheeks.

“He didn’t get you. Or them.” He gestured to the other doors. The cells. The other women.

But he had freed some of them.

Even Hannah’s sluggish mind picked up on that. There was a small victory in there. Some were free.

Cruz pushed her back, off balance. She landed on the sofa next to Dylan with a little bounce.

“If I didn’t need the product so bad, I’d keep you for myself and extract payment from your hide.” Cruz’s glare told her it would not be a pleasant existence. “Who is he?”

“Let me see?” Dylan held out his hand.

Cruz shoved the paper at him.

“This guy? I saw him once. Who’d the hotel say he was?” Dylan leaned back and directed his gaze to another man.

“Mason Clark,” he said.

“Mason Clark,” Dylan muttered.

Hannah held her breath, trying desperately to remember what—if anything—she’d told Dylan about her father. About Aegis. She didn’t normally talk about it. It wasn’t something she casually dropped into conversation, so the chances were high that...Dylan didn’t know. That no one here knew what Mason was capable of.

“Who is he?” Cruz bent, hands on his knees, staring at her.

“M-my boyfriend.” It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that. She needed more. A lie disguised as truth. Something they’d believe and wouldn’t look at too carefully. “H-he’s in the police academy. He’s a good guy.”

“A cop.” Dylan’s mouth twisted up.

“You brought a cop into this?” Cruz speared Dylan with a look.

“I didn’t. She did.” Dylan pointed at her, quick to lay the blame on someone else.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d done as I asked and brought her two weeks ago.”

“I couldn’t. She would have gotten suspicious. These things take time.”

“You make excuses, Dylan.”

“Don’t blame me because your people fucked up. This wouldn’t have happened if your guys hadn’t fallen asleep.”

Cruz and Dylan stared at each other, the tension in the room vibrating.

Shut up, Dylan.

Even she knew when too much had been reached, and this was too much.

“My fuck up?” Cruz flattened his hand against his chest.

“Not you, them.” Dylan thumbed at the men behind him.

Hannah pressed herself into the arm of the sofa, as far away from Dylan as she could get without sliding onto the floor. No good would come out of this exchange.

Cruz drew a pistol from his hip.

Hannah clapped her hands over her ears.

He fired.

Something wet splattered against her arm.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

This can’t be happening.

This can’t be.

But it was.

M
ason’s skin was too tight. He needed to do something. Be somewhere else. Anywhere but here, watching Luke perfect the crease of his goddamned bowtie.

“The plan will work, Mason,” Zain insisted for the tenth or more time.

Mason grunted. He wasn’t convinced, but he’d been outvoted on this ridiculous plan.

Luke in a monkey suit was still Luke, no matter what Zain said. There was no way Luke would pass inspection as some wealthy playboy out to find a new toy. One glance and any of Cruz’s goons would spot Luke for the predator he was. Mason, Luke, all of them—they were trained soldiers, and it was woven so deep into the fabric of who they were that there was no masking that.

“Travis should go in, too,” Mason said again. At least if Luke was going in, he should have back-up.

Zain didn’t bother with a reply. There was the slim possibility Travis’ mug could be on some security footage. Sending him in for the auction would be a disaster. If anyone recognized him. Given the age of the security system, Mason found it hard to believe and wasn’t ready to give up the argument.

“Relax, man.” Luke tweaked the bowtie at his neck one last time. “How do I look?”

“Like Idris Elba. Now get going.” Zain slapped Luke on the shoulder. “Com still working?”

“Fuck you,” Luke groused. He’d been dubbed with the name since someone mentioned his resemblance to the actor.

“Good. The car is downstairs. Get a move on.” Zain checked the time. “Auction starts in fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes of hell.

Luke strode out of the room without a backward glance. Abraham had really come through on the suit, the car and the driver, not to mention lending them the cash for the actual transaction. All Luke had to do was be the highest bidder. Still didn’t mean Mason liked the plan. There was too much that could go wrong. They didn’t know for sure if Hannah was there, how she was doing or what had happened to her since the last time Rachel had seen her hauled up the stairs.

“Relax,” Zain said under his breath.

“You don’t get it.” Mason pivoted to stare out the window. Cruz’s building and perimeter were four blocks away. This was as close as they dared set up a base of operations.

“I do get it.”

Yeah right.

Zain lived for his tech and his games and his nerd crap. Mason wasn’t going to judge his cousin, but half the time it seemed like Zain lived in a made-up world the rest of them couldn’t touch. How was a guy like that supposed to understand what Mason was going through?

“Travis, you in position?” Zain peered through the windows at the building across the street.

“I am.” A tiny flash of light on the second floor fire escape gave Travis’ position away.

“I see you,” Zain said. “I’m headed down to the car. Mason?”

“On my way.” Mason shouldered the assault rifle and followed his cousin out of the office suite they’d commandeered.

After giving up their prime location across the street from Cruz’s, they’d broken into another building to take up watch positions. Cruz had set up a secure perimeter around his building, complete with flood lights. He’d also blocked off the streets so there was only one stretch of road in or out. While it gave Cruz the ability to see who was coming and provide only one avenue escape, it also helped them set up an ambush point in the event Luke couldn’t buy and grab Hannah.

She would not get away from him again.

Mason was bringing her home, one way or another.

“In the car, ladies,” Luke’s disembodied voice said in Mason’s ear. “I’ll talk to you on the flip side.”

“I see the car,” Travis said.

Zain melted into the shadows leading to the first floor while Mason proceeded to the end of the building, through a window, to his perch on the fire escape. From his vantage point, catty corner to Cruz’s building, he had the best line of sight.

In comparison to their rescue attempt that morning, this was a bare-bones operation. They had a boat waiting at a dock two blocks down, six from Cruz’s warehouse, and that was it. There was no other back-up. Abraham had his hands full trying to sort out the girls, who went where, and staying off Cruz’s radar. Mason hated it, but the guy had to stay quiet. Which meant Mason and his team were running a skeleton crew for the most important op of his life.

“I’m in position,” Zain said.

Mason glanced down at the big SUV they’d boosted earlier. The thing was made like a tank, and in the event they had to forcefully take Hannah, it could be useful. Otherwise it was a mobile road block at their disposal.