Page 44 of Casey's Hero

Jacob focused on breathing and maintaining situational awareness and direction. Each man had a dive watch with a built-in GPS navigation screen. It was a lot more than they’d had when they’d gone through BUD/S training.

With the only noise being the sound of the DPV and his own breathing, Jacob had time to think about the mission ahead and the woman he’d left behind.

No, he didn’t have time to think about Casey, the wedding planner. His entire focus should be on getting his friend out of harm’s way.

No matter how hard he tried, Jacob couldn’t erase the memory of her body pressed up against his. Her skin was buttery soft, her hair soft and silky where it had brushed his shoulder. And Lord, how tight she’d been as he’d slid inside her…

If he kept up that train of thought, he’d ram his DPV into Hank.

As they neared the shore, Hank slowed. Eventually, he ran up on the ground, secured the DPV between some boulders and straightened.

Reid and Jacob emerged beside him and did the same.

All three men removed the weapons and equipment from the dry bags.

Once they had everything laid out, Hank looked up. “This is too tempting a strip of beach. There has to be a staircase leading up to the compound.” He nodded to Jacob and Reid. “You two, recon. I’ll load the grappling hook on the launcher and wait for the others to surface.”

Jacob broke off to the right while Reid took off at a jog across the sand to the left.

The clear skies made it easy for them to see, but it would make it easy for the cartel to spot them if they weren’t careful. Hugging the very base of the bluff, Jacob walked along the long stretch of beach until he’d almost come to the end, where an outcropping of boulders blocked his path and ended the sandy haven. As he turned to head back, he saw indentations in the rocky face of the cliff. Rising at a gentle angle, the indentations formed steps, leading upward in a diagonal across the rocks with a cleverly disguised, short stone wall, indistinguishable by casual passersby who might bring their boats too close to the tempting stretch of sand.

The entrance to the narrow staircase had a wrought-iron gate blocking the path with a chain and lock to keep honest visitorshonest while discouraging those who might have less than noble intentions.

Jacob knew the staircase would be far quicker to ascend than using the grappling hook and ropes to get to the top. He hurried back to Hank.

Rex, Angelo, Levi, Devlin, Maddog, Boomer, Logan and the other Deltas had come ashore, shed their dive gear and stacked it neatly in the shadows of the cliff.

Jacob hurried past the others, coming to a halt in front of Hank. “I found a hidden staircase.”

Hank grinned. “Thank God. I haven’t operated one of these launchers in a long time. Did you detect any motion-sensor cameras?” He pulled a coil of rope from the dry bag.

“No.” Jacob took a coil from Hank and slung it over his shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any tucked into the crevices.”

“We’ll have to risk it,” Hank said. “If we move quickly, they might not have time to react.” He handed another coil of rope to Reid and took one for himself from the dry bags they’d brought with them.

Armed with AR-15 rifles, handguns and a few smoke grenades Reid had acquired from an unknown source, they paused to check their communications equipment.

Reid only had enough radio headsets for four: Hank, Reid, Jacob and Maddog. Once they were ready, Jacob insisted on being the point man. Hank followed, with Reid bringing up the rear. They would stage the ropes they carried over the wall and down the cliffside in case they had to make a quick descent on their way out. Having all of them on the staircase would leave them too exposed.

Using the bolt cutter they’d brought with the other equipment, Levi cut the hasp on the lock securing the gate.

Jacob hustled up the steps, taking them two at a time, praying they’d get to the top before the alarm went off. Hawk had to be there, alive and well.

Clutching his rifle in his hands, Jacob edged around the corner.

Casey wokefor a few moments to utter darkness. When she tried to move, she couldn’t. Whatever she lay on shook and bounced, sending stabbing pains through her head. She slipped back into oblivion.

When she woke again, someone had hold of her ankles, dragging her across a hard, cold surface. Some kind of heavy fabric had covered her. She was slid from beneath it and slung over a brawny shoulder. Unable to move her hands to balance and protect her face, her head bounced off the back of the man carrying her. Again, she passed out.

The next time she came to was when she was dropped on a hard floor, her back hitting first, her skull banging hard, sending pain shooting through her head. She opened her eyes and blinked back the gray fog threatening to consume her.

The ceiling above her wasn’t her apartment. The man who’d dropped her spoke to someone else in the room, but Casey couldn’t understand what he was saying. Through the pain in her head, she focused on the sounds. They weren’t speaking Spanish. A door opened, footsteps sounded, leading away, then a door closed, and the room became silent except for the sound of Casey’s heartbeats pounding against her eardrums.

As her vision and thoughts cleared, the memory of being attacked flooded her consciousness.

She tried to open her mouth to cry out, but something sticky and tight held her lips shut tight.

Kalea. Dear Lord. What had happened to Kalea?

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