Page 62 of Guarding The Phoenix: Vol. 2

The Navy Commander wanted us to bring him in alive and send him to prison for the rest of his life. The boys and I agreed he was a walking dead man for taking Kylie. I didn’t care which one of us unalived him. Though deep down, I wanted it to be me: for Kylie and for Grant. Killing him wouldn’t bring my brother back.

But I wanted his blood on my hands even more than I did before.

We had the high ground and used it to our advantage. The Navy guys started picking off Santos’s men one by one.

Chase was on his way. He had a little further route to go than the rest of us. But he wouldn’t let us down. And I prayed that Mateo was all right. He and a small team of Navy Seals were taking out his men on the yacht. Santos would leave this island in a body bag.

I surveyed the scene. Santos dragged Kylie toward the jungle. I spied the collar and leash. Once he got her past the tree line, I feared for her safety. He wasn’t a man to be trusted. He would kill her, cut off her hand to breach the security barrier at the building about five miles inland in the center of the island.

It was now or never. “Cover me.”

“Sir, you sure about that?” the Navy guy asked. Seaman Jessup was twenty and from Delaware, and a damn fine shot.

“Yep. If I die, I need one of you to make sure that woman gets off this island alive. You hear me? Don’t let him take her off this island?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir. Will do. We won’t let you down.”

“I know.” I checked my gun clip. Empty. I switched it for a full one and chambered a round.

Then with a whispered prayer, I dashed from behind the rocks, picking off Santos’s men one at a time. And that’s when I heard the helicopter approach.

Thank fuck!Chase was on his way with aerial support.Take that you motherfuckers.

I raced across the sand. My focus was on Santos and Kylie. She was bruised but more beautiful than ever. I hated the fear splashed across her face.

The chopper was coming in hot. His men were being picked off like pesky flies. He was outgunned and outmaneuvered. Fucking finally.

“Santos stop. Let her go. This is between you and me,” I yelled when I was twenty-five yards away.

Santos dragged her back against his body and dug the barrel of a Glock against her head. Kylie whimpered.

“Close your eyes, love. It will be all right.” I would see to it. Santos had an unholy light in his eyes. I wouldn’t put it past him to pull the trigger and blow her brains out. I kept inching forward, monitoring the surrounding fight in case one of his men tried to pull a fast one and take me out.

Santos snarled, pressing the gun more forcefully against her temple. Kylie whimpered in pain. But then Santos grinned when the helicopter landed fifty yards away. “Uh oh, someone’s about to get a spanking.”

What the hell was he talking about? And why the fuck was Chase landing without taking out the boats on the beach. The Grim Reaper walked across my soul. It was a balmy ninety degrees out, but suddenly I felt chilled to the bone.

“Agent, lower your weapon.” My heart sank when I recognized the voice. There was a mole on Luka Santos’s payroll. I spoke to him this morning. It was the director of the CIA.

“You’re the fucking mole. You’re working with this asshole, sir? You’re the reason my brother is fucking dead?” It spun me for a loop. I had looked up to this man since my career with the agency began. I yanked my spare gun from my waistband, holding them both at gunpoint. We stood in a standoff, waiting for someone to make a move.

“I’m sorry but you and he got too close. You’re damn good at your job. I’m sorry it has to end this way, but I can’t let you leave the island,” he explained like we were discussing the weather and not the fact he planned to murder me in cold blood to hide his crimes.

“Gideon,” Kylie said. Tears slipped down her cheeks. And I gave myself a split second to look at her. In her eyes, I spied her love and the message she wanted me to see. She was saying goodbye.

“Babe, the thing these fuckers don’t understand is,” I said holding a gun trained on each one, “you should never second guess a Marine.”

That’s when they heard it. But it was too late for them to move into a better position. A second helicopter swooped in, guns blazing and shot the tail off the other chopper. It went up in flames with the pilot jumping out. Then Chase took out each landing boat, blowing them sky high. The Navy guys cheered.

“I love you, Kylie.” And then I shouted, “duck.”

The director screwed up his face. Kylie moved her head just enough for me to take the shot. I pulled the triggers, praying their aims were true.

Santos rocked back on his feet. His hands went slack and dropped the gun into the sand. With sightless eyes and a hole in his forehead, he toppled over backwards, dead before he hit the ground. Kylie stumbled to her knees. I couldn’t think about her just yet.

The director gripped his shoulder, the gun dangling from his injured arm. And then I held both guns on him. “Surrender. Toss your weapon down.”

“Fuck you, White. You should have died in Alaska,” he sneered and reached for the gun with his uninjured hand.

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