Page 23 of Rescuing Rebecca
A round of snorts filled the air in advance of her denial as she punched him in the pec. Hard. “Fuck off, asshole. You know I hate snow globes.” She kissed him back. “Just don’t die on me, and I won’t have to go balls to the walls and make an attempt on Johnson with a bottle of Goose and a shitty collection of plastic water domes.”
Grant snorted. “There won’t be any need for you to go supersonic with your hair on fire, sunshine. I’ll make sure no one takes a long walk off a short pier.”
She turned her attention to Grant, poking him in the chest. Equally as hard. “You’re the dumbass I worry about the most, and stop calling me sunshine, dickhead.” She threw her arms around his neck and drew him into a tight hug. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
He gave her a reassuring pat on the back, and they separated. “It’ll be fine, Gray. We’ll see you in a few.”
As Jay and Jamie joined them, she nodded sharply. Once. A quick dip of her chin, so reminiscent of her father, and the exact same move they’d seen her brother make, it was easy to spot the family resemblance between them. “You’d better.”
She gave a final round of hugs to each member of the assault team, individually threatened them with some form of bodily harm if they dared to die, and then waited while Eve said goodbye next.
In contrast, her soft words and comforting hugs were no less meaningful for being warm and gentle, and with the farewells complete, the two women left to seek shelter under the porch overhang where they joined Summer and the baby a safe distance away.
“Alright,” Adam said, addressing the team gathered. “Plan to move in hot and fast. Don’t hesitate to kill who you need to. Find Rebecca. Get her out. And don’t fucking die in the process. That’s it. That’s the mission. Don’t get fancy and don’t fucking deviate. There’s no room for mistakes. We clear?”
A volley of clears filled the air, and after a sharp nod from Adam and a round of quick hugs for Davis, Cody felt his skin start to tingle as they shoved their bodies into the belly of the Black Hawk. The prickling sensation continued as he took his designated seat, strapped in, and put on his headset while Zander secured the door and Chase powered up the twin turboshaft engines.
A short time later, he felt the familiar pull of gravity low in his stomach as the helicopter lifted off the ground. And with each rotation of the titanium blades, his spirit soared higher than the trees they cleared as they climbed out of the valley and headed due West.
Twenty hours flight time, a few of those with him in the co-pilot seat, white-knuckling the cyclic stick and getting some much-needed practice. Two pit stops to refuel. One day of preparation with the assault team Grant had secured, and then it would be a case of surprise, motherfuckers.
He leaned his head back, crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and settled in for the long haul with a smile on his face. This—this is what he’d been born for.
What he lived for.
Head down. Gun up. A target to rescue and an enemy to defeat.
Oorah, bitches.
The JTT were on their way.
CHAPTER NINE
After a slow-moving trip to the kitchen to indulge in half a box of Captain Crunch, Becca locked herself in the small bedroom she’d been using for the last two years. Flimsy at best, the push-button mechanism on the lever wouldn’t keep anyone out, but habits were habits, and the act made her feel better.
So did scarfing down a couple of bowls of Jay’s favorite cereal—once the itty-bitty mouth shredders were soggy enough to chew and swallow with a sore jaw and busted lip.
Belly full of sugar, she crossed the small space and entered the attached bath. As always, she started the water in the shower, cranked the temperature to the hottest possible setting, and then waited.
As much as she wanted to ease her sore body under the hard spray, it would take a couple of minutes for the steam to billow and the clear glass enclosure to become opaque before she could strip naked.
Were there hidden surveillance cameras in the bathroom?
Probably.
Although she hadn’t been able to uncover their location without a thorough search, she refused to take any chances. Keeping up the ruse and maintaining the belief she was Maya kept her alive.
Well, it had kept her alive.
Five days. As the clock ticked off the seconds, her time on this island dwindled. One way or another, she’d be leaving Big Diomede. Dead or alive. Didn’t much matter anymore. Phase one complete, she’d set her plan in motion.
There’d be no putting Jack back in the box. Creepy fucker. Who designed a kid’s toy featuring the devil disguised as a scary-ass clown anyway? Hands braced on either side of the sink, she leaned toward the mirror and flinched at her reflection.
Split lip, rimmed with dried blood. Check.
Swollen cheek, starting to turn from blush red to deep purple. Check.
A ring of bruises, matching the hand necklace Roman had given her earlier. Check.
