The cook filled a pot with water and set it on the stove.He switched on the overhead vent, the sound filling the kitchen with enough noise that Alana hoped it would mask the sound of the gunfire below.
Then the cook turned toward her hideout and crossed the kitchen.
Alana shrank back against the wall at the top of the stairs and waited for the cook to push the basement door fully open.
When a few seconds passed, and that didn’t happen, she peered out.Another door stood open beside the cellar door.The kitchen stood empty.The cook was in a closet or pantry beside the cellar door, and the path was clear from where she stood at the top of the cellar steps to the exit door that led from the kitchen to the outside.
Alana dragged in a deep breath and made a break for it.She ran lightly through the kitchen, her focus on the door to the outside.Her heart pounded, her pulse pushing blood and adrenaline through her system.She was only a few steps away from freedom.
As she reached for the doorknob, a shout sounded behind her.Alana froze and turned back to the man on the other side of the kitchen.
The cook had come out of the pantry, carrying a canister and a couple of bottles of spices.He frowned fiercely and spoke to her in rapid Spanish.
She shook her head.“No comprendo.”Alana eased backward toward the door, pressing a finger to her lips.“Por favor,” she said, having exhausted her memory of the Spanish she’d taken in school.“Por favor.”
The muffled sound of gunfire sounded again from the basement.
The cook’s gaze shifted to the basement door, his eyes narrowing.When the sound of wood splintering and a shout rose from below, the cook looked to her, his eyes widening.He gave her a chin lift and whispered, “Darse prisa.”With his hands full, all he could do was jerk his head toward the outside door.
Alana nearly cried with her relief.“Gracias, mi amigo.”
“Go.Desapareces.”
Footsteps sounded on the staircase from the cellar.
Alana turned and ran out the door into the shadowed dusk.
The bandof four former military members gathered at Carson’s small house on the beach.Inside, in a secret room hidden in one of the stucco walls, Chase, Gina and Trevor discovered an arsenal of weaponry.
Chase had chosen to carry an AR-15 rifle with a scope.For backup, he tucked a 9mm P226 into a shoulder holster he wore beneath a light black jacket.
Thankfully, Carson had a stash of black clothing they used to camouflage themselves in the night.The former SEAL even offered camo sticks for them to use to blacken their faces.
“Are you sure you can handle that weapon?”Carson asked Gina.
She nodded, hefting the AR-15 in her hands.“I’ve got this.”
He handed her a magazine and a box of bullets.“What was your MOS in the Army?”
She glanced away.“Doesn’t matter.They train everyone in basic combat skills.I qualified as an expert marksman.That’s all you need to know.”She filled the magazine with rounds and slammed it into the weapon.“I’m ready to go.”
“You think Mr.Neal will stay put in the hotel room until we get back to him?”Trevor asked.
Gina shrugged.“We can only hope.”
Carson grunted.“I read him the riot act about getting in the way of anything we’re doing to rescue Alana.He understands we’re up against some pretty bad dudes.”
“Does he also understand that you three are highly trained Navy SEALs?”Gina asked.
“I explained it to him.He wanted to come with us, but I told him he needed to stay at the hotel in case Alana was freed and made her way back.She’d be frightened and would need someone she knew and loved to be there for her.”
Gina nodded.“That ought to do it.”
“I also told him that if he interfered with our mission, I’d shoot him,” Carson said.
“I’m glad you told him that and not me,” Chase admitted.“That man is my father-in-law.Shooting him wouldn’t make my new bride happy.”
“Speaking of which,” Trevor said.“What the hell made you tie the knot in the first place?”
