Honor code blackthorn se.., p.10
Honor Code (Blackthorn Security Book 2), page 10
If there was even the slightest chance...
She swallowed hard over the painful lump in her throat. "Send help, Billy. Go. Now."
He gave a last nod, turned the lifeboat in the direction she'd given him, then set off, the engine sputtering to life. She watched it chug slowly away until it faded into the billowing smoke.
Alone, her tears came in earnest. Great, wracking sobs that shook her entire body as the horrible reality sank in.
God, please don't let him be dead.
She couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it.
She drifted listlessly around the debris field, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Every now and then she'd stop and call out his name. Boomer's name. But nothing. All she got in reply was the tortured groaning of the rig as it kept tilting to one side, and the smell of scorched metal.
What was that?
A faint tapping sound could be heard in the eerie silence.
She froze, listening hard, hardly daring to breathe. There it was again.
Tap-tap-tap. Taaap-taaap-taaap. Tap-tap-tap.
Was that an SOS? Or was her battered, shell-shocked mind playing tricks on her? Was it just the metallic death throes of the gutted rig as it sank slowly beneath the waves?
Ellie restarted the engine with fumbling fingers and moved warily in the direction of the tapping.
"Hello?" she yelled through the smog, her voice cracking. "Anybody there?"
Tap-tap-tap. Taaap-taaap-taaap. Tap-tap-tap.
That was definitely an SOS. Too rhythmic and regular to be caused by the remnants of the rig collapsing in on itself.
Then she saw him, and her heart seized in her chest.
He was lying in the water, clutching a plank of wood. He'd made the banging sound by tapping a piece of steel piping onto what was left of the base of the structure.
Phoenix!
"Oh, my God. You're alive!" She steered the inflatable boat toward him, then reached over and tried to haul him in. He was barely conscious. A deep gash in his hairline leaked blood over his face, and there was another on his arm.
Shit, how was she going to get him into the boat? He was heavy—a dead weight—and unable to help himself. She heaved with all her might until finally she had half of his bulk on the edge of the inflatable. With one last pull, she managed to tip him over the side, and he collapsed into the bottom of the boat.
She dropped to her knees beside him. "Are you alright? Phoenix, speak to me. Can you hear me?"
He tried to open his eyes, but when he did, she noticed they were glazed and unfocused. He was concussed. How badly, she didn't know.
But at least he was alive.
"Where's Boomer?" she asked him, but he didn't respond. He passed out, and if it wasn't for his shallow breathing, she might have thought he was dead.
"Wake up." She gently shook his shoulders. "Please, Phoenix." She'd read somewhere that you shouldn't go to sleep with a concussion because you might never wake up. Whether it was true or not, she had no idea, but she thought she'd better try.
He didn't move.
"Don't die on me," she whispered, smoothing back the hair on his forehead and inspecting the gash. "Don't you dare die on me." It wasn't too deep, but there was swelling around it. That might be what was causing the concussion—or the blast from the explosion. Either way, he needed medical attention, and now.
She didn't have enough gas to reach the Discoverer, but Billy would send help as soon as he could. She estimated half an hour for him to make the journey, another half an hour for them to send a vessel to come and get them. After that, they'd send a rescue crew, the Coast Guard, and forensics from the mainland, but that would take much longer.
Ellie chugged around the base of the rig, looking for Boomer. If Phoenix had somehow managed to survive the blast, maybe he had too. But she couldn't see him in the water. He wasn't hanging on to the burning rig, either.
She took a shuddering gasp. He obviously hadn't made it.
Turning her attention back to Phoenix, she tried to make him more comfortable. "Help is on the way," she whispered. "Hang in there."
A low hum caught her attention. Looking up, she saw a black dot coming toward her. Was the speedboat she'd seen earlier coming back?
Yes, it looked like it. Low, sleek, and black. It sped across the ocean, getting bigger as it came toward her.
Thank God. Help was coming.
Tears began to fall afresh. Phoenix was going to be okay.
CHAPTER 20
"Incoming!" yelled Viper, so named because he was lethal with an M110 sniper rifle. At over a thousand yards, there was nobody better. "Take cover!"
They ducked, seconds before a rocket-propelled grenade hit the bunker they were hiding out in. The force threw Phoenix back against the concrete wall, knocking the air from his lungs. The searing heat made his skin blister. He coughed and groaned, pain lancing through his skull.
"Phoenix? Phoenix, wake up!" urged a distant voice, garbled and indistinct. It wasn't anyone from his unit. It was Ellie.
"Ellie?" he mumbled, but the roaring flames were too intense, engulfing the bunker and driving out the oxygen. He struggled to breathe, his vision darkening at the edges.
"We've gotta get out of here," Viper yelled from somewhere far away. Strong hands grabbed Phoenix under his arms and lifted him up off the dirty floor. Grunting with effort, Viper dragged him out of the burning bunker and into the blinding daylight.
Phoenix shut his eyes against the piercing brightness that sent stabs of agony through his head. The world spun violently. "Need... to... rest," he slurred, his words barely audible.
"Sorry, buddy. We've got to get you somewhere safe. We're under heavy fire here."
The distant rat-a-tat of machine gun fire echoed in Phoenix's ringing ears as Viper carried him across uneven desert ground pockmarked with dry bushes and shrubs. They skidded to a halt behind a small rise where there was a modicum of cover. Here Viper laid him down, but Phoenix barely felt it, drifting in and out of awareness. His head throbbed mercilessly, feeling like it would split open. Why was everything so bright?
He tried to open his eyes but saw only blurry, disjointed images—Viper laying down covering fire, another guy chucking grenades like he was in a school food fight. Nothing made sense.
"Duck!" yelled Viper as another explosion rocked the ground nearby. Fragments of dust flew into the air then coated them in a fine, yellow mist.
Phoenix coughed weakly, every breath sending sharp pains through his ribs. He forced his eyes open again to find Viper had been replaced by Ellie, her long brown hair shot through with gold in the sunlight. She was so beautiful. He reached out a trembling hand to touch her, to make sure she was real, but she seemed to slip away into the haze.
"Ellie?" he croaked, his voice ragged.
"Oh, thank God you're awake." Her words sounded muffled, as if underwater. "Don't worry, help is on the way."
He tried to sit up, but his head exploded in blinding agony and he collapsed back, darkness threatening to pull him under again. Where was he? The rocking motion beneath him suggested a boat. But what was Ellie doing driving it? And where was the rig?
Fragmented memories slowly surfaced through the fog in his brain. The IED. The deafening explosion. The shock of cool water closing over his head.
"Boomer?" Phoenix choked out, forcing himself into a half-sitting position despite the waves of dizziness and nausea.
Ellie shook her head, her face blurring in and out of focus. "I'm sorry. He didn't make it." Her voice cracked with a strangled sob, then she took a shuddering breath as if barely keeping it together. "The others got away on the second inflatable, but I couldn't find Boomer anywhere…" More broken sobs escaped her. The boat jerked unsteadily as she fought to control her emotions.
"What?" The news hit Phoenix like a physical blow. She was fading in and out of his vision now, surrounded by sparkling spots and stars. He recognized the signs of a severe concussion, his brain struggling to process what he'd just heard. Boomer was dead?
The world tilted and spun sickeningly. Phoenix gripped the side of the boat, fighting a powerful wave of nausea. He leaned over and retched, but nothing came up except bitter saliva.
Ellie's hand gripped his shoulder, anchoring him. "Are you okay? You were nearly blown up. There's a deep gash on your head. I think you have a serious concussion."
"I've had worse," Phoenix mumbled, but a small, distant part of him knew that wasn't true. He'd never felt so disoriented, so untethered from reality.
"Here comes a rescue boat." Ellie's voice broke through the mental fog, laced with tentative hope as she nodded towards the horizon.
He stared in that direction, willing his eyes to focus, but all he could see was a blurry, undulating line of blue. "You sure?"
"Yes, can't you see it?" She pointed into the distance. "Over there."
Shielding his sensitive eyes against the intense sunlight with an unsteady hand, Phoenix squinted at the horizon. He knew from experience that the disorientation and light sensitivity would fade in a few hours, assuming there was no internal bleeding. He just had to hold on until then.
Gradually, a dark shape materialized in the distance. He stared at it, unblinking, as it slowly sharpened into the silhouette of an approaching boat. But something about it felt off, warning bells sounding dimly in the back of his muddled mind. His instincts, honed by years in the elite naval unit, whispered that this was no rescue vessel.
"It's going too fast," he said faintly, the words slurring together.
"What? It's coming to see if anyone needs rescuing."
He shook his head and instantly regretted it as the world lurched sickeningly. Swallowing hard against the rising bile, he fought to string the words together. "No, she's riding too high, moving too fast."
He sensed Ellie's hand tighten on the tiller, the boat's speed decreasing fractionally. "What are you saying, Phoenix?" Fear crept into her tone.
The mystery boat was about seven hundred yards away now and closing fast. Phoenix strained to make out the figures on board, but they remained frustratingly blurry, wavering in and out of focus.
"Anyone else onboard?" he asked, relying on Ellie to be his eyes.
She peered at the approaching craft. "Yes, I can see two men. They're both standing at the helm."
"Two men, for a rescue? I don't think so."
"They could've been nearby and saw the explosion," Ellie suggested, but doubt colored her words. "There might be more in the back that I can't see."
It was possible, but the way the boat raced towards them, a predator scenting blood, made Phoenix's gut tighten with certainty. This was no rescue party.
"Turn around," he instructed, forcing the words out past gritted teeth.
"What?" Confusion and fear battled in Ellie's eyes.
"Turn around," Phoenix repeated urgently, his voice rough with pain but steeled with grim determination. "We need to get out of here. Now."
"But they've already seen us," Ellie protested weakly. "And we don't have enough fuel to go far."
Phoenix locked eyes with her, his gaze intense despite the foggy double-vision. "Doesn't matter. Just turn us around. Hurry."
With hesitant, jerky movements, Ellie spun the inflatable into a wide 180-degree turn. The mystery boat was faster and more maneuverable, but there was still a quarter mile of open ocean between them. A slim lead, but it would have to be enough.
Phoenix slumped back, fighting to stay conscious as pain pounded through his abused skull. "Floor it," he managed through clenched teeth, praying they could outrun whoever was on their tail. "Get us out of here."
The little dinghy shot forward, its hull rising out of the water as it gathered speed, then lowered as they opened up again. The wind whipped up their hair, and Phoenix fell against the side of the boat, feeling like a herd of elephants was parading around inside his skull. "Keep going and don't stop until I tell you," he managed through gritted teeth.
"Who are they?" Ellie asked, a tinge of hysteria in her voice.
"I'm not sure, but that's not a rescue boat."
"Why would they want to harm us? Surely, they're here to help?"
"I don't know, Ellie, but you have to trust me on this."
He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, but she didn't slow down.
A loud bang rang out, like a firecracker. "Get down!" Phoenix yelled, reacting instinctively despite the pain lancing through his head.
Ellie ducked, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Are... Are they shooting at us?"
More shots rang out, the sound echoing across the water.
"Just stay down and keep going!" Phoenix shouted, fighting to stay conscious as the world tilted and spun around him.
"Oh, my God." Ellie's voice was almost hysterical. "Why are they shooting at us?"
Phoenix couldn't answer that. He could only pray they had enough time to outrun the hostile vessel, or that it would redirect to the site of the explosion to scavenge off the doomed oil rig.
Risking a peek over the side, he saw the speedboat gaining on them, only four hundred yards away now.
More shots were fired, the distinctive rattle of automatic weapons sending a chill down Phoenix's spine. This wasn't good.
"Keep going," he shouted at Ellie, who had gone white with fear. She huddled down in front of the outboard motor, both hands clutching the tiller in a death grip. Despite the terror etched on her face, Phoenix was impressed at how she'd managed to keep it together. He'd seen civilians panic under far less provocation.
Three hundred yards.
Bullets whizzed through the air and fizzled into the sea around them, kicking up small geysers of spray. Thankfully, it was hard, if not impossible, to hit a fast-moving target, especially one bobbing up and down as well as surging forward, from a speeding boat. Phoenix knew this from experience, having tried it several times himself. As long as they maintained some distance, they should be okay for a little while longer. But he also knew something had to give. Eventually, the pursuing speedboat would catch up to them, and then it was game over.
Phoenix's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare, but the pounding in his head made it hard to think. Black spots danced at the edges of his vision, threatening to pull him back into the void. He blinked hard, fighting to stay awake, to stay focused. Ellie needed him. He couldn't pass out now.
The roar of the speedboat's engine grew louder, like an angry hornet's nest. Phoenix risked another glance back, squinting against the glare of the sun on the water. The gap had closed to two hundred yards, the figures on board now clearly visible. Two men, both armed, their faces obscured by dark sunglasses.
Phoenix's heart sank. These were no amateurs out for a joyride. They had the look of trained professionals, the kind who wouldn't stop until they finished the job.
Another burst of gunfire ripped through the air, the bullets zipping past so close Phoenix could almost feel their heat. Ellie screamed, the sound piercing through the fog in his brain. He had to do something, and fast, or they were both dead.
CHAPTER 21
“What are you doing?” Ellie asked, as the speedboat gained on them.
Phoenix didn’t reply. He just leaned forward and rustled in the storage compartment, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated.
"Ah-ha!" He sat upright, clutching something in his hand. "A flare gun."
“So what?” What use was a flare gun against automatic firepower? When the Coast Guard got here, they could use it to signal their position, if they were still alive.
Phoenix seemed to be having trouble focusing, his eyes squinting as he tried to position himself in a lying position facing the pursuing vessel.
Two hundred yards.
"They’re gaining on us." She was unable to keep her voice from shaking. "Oh, God. Phoenix, they're going to catch us."
"Don't worry. You just focus on keeping the inflatable moving forward. Leave them up to me," he said, his words slightly slurred.
She stared at him, concerned by his unsteady movements and labored breathing. Gone was the confident private security operative, replaced by a man clearly struggling with the effects of his concussion. How on earth was he going to take care of them with a flare gun when the bad guys were raining bullets on their heads?
"Steady..." he urged, his voice strained. "I've only got one shot at this."
His body swayed, his hands shaking as he tried to grip the flare gun and point it at the pursuers.
This wasn’t looking good. Still, he was right. This was their one shot.
Ellie held her breath, her hands tightening on the tiller. Phoenix pulled the trigger. The canister shot out of the muzzle, flew across the water like a wobbly torpedo, and hit the vessel pursuing them just off-center of the windshield. It exploded into a Catherine wheel of sparks, causing both men to hit the deck and the boat to veer off course. Because it was going so fast, it lurched dangerously before the engine faltered, and it drifted to a halt.
"Yes!" Ellie stared at him. "You did it!"
"It'll buy us some time," he said, his voice weak. "Those guys will be suffering from burns and possibly blunt force trauma from the impact. They won't be going anywhere but to the hospital."
"I had no idea flares were so dangerous," Ellie mused. She felt like hugging Phoenix, she was so relieved, but he was clearly in no shape for any kind of physical contact. How he'd managed to aim well enough to hit the boat, she had no idea. But he had, and they were safe—for now.
“We've got to put some distance between us and them. Where's the nearest island?"
Ellie retrieved her GPS. "Here, let me look," she said, not even bothering to pass it to him. Right now, she didn't even know which direction they were heading in. The only thing on her mind had been to get away from their attackers as fast as possible. She squinted into the distance. Nothing. Not a hazy mountain, a ship, or even a palm tree. The smoke from the oil rig had made everything hazy, so it was difficult to see what was out there.
Ellie took her time with the GPS, studying their location and the surrounding area. "There is a small island about four miles north of our current location. It looks like a protected nature reserve."
