Page 45 of Austen

But someone had clearly forgotten to send the Russian team a memo letting them know that Declan was on their side.Or maybe it was just a show.Still, he’d looked pretty roughed up when she left him on the bridge.

An hour later, the sun had nearly sunk into the ocean, casting a bloodred glow across the waters.The Russians had moved everyone down to the salon, including Declan.

Emberly had hidden inside the galley, and the door remained locked from the inside, so for now, she was safe.

The time had given her space to plan.In darkness, she could get the crew and the passengers off the ship and onto the Russian boat, where they could take off and leave the Russians behind on the yacht.

If she could figure out a way to distract the guards.

There were flares in the hallway storage area—those could make a small distraction—but how to get all of the people out of the salon?

What she needed was something spectacular at the yacht’s bow that would draw the guards and allow her to leave the galley through the stairs and hustle people out to the boat.

And she needed a weapon.

Camille’s set of deluxe kitchen knives probably wouldn’t do the trick.As Emberly was searching for the flares, she found the weapons locker.Locked, of course, but inside it held two shotguns, a couple of handguns, andhello, mama,a Sig Sauer P226.She spent about ten minutes getting the gun case open, grabbed the Sig Sauer, and found ammo.Bam.It might be a crazy, desperate idea, but she couldn’t just let the Russians shoot them.

Not when it was her fault that they’d attacked.

She’d worked out the plan in her head.She would fire off the flares in the bow, scurry back through the galley, then through the stairs to the salon, and dispatch any of the remaining guards.By that time, hopefully, the captives would be on their feet, and they’d all escape.It could turn into chaos.Probablychaos.And maybe people would get hurt, but if all went right, they’d escape on the other boat.

Which could move much faster over open water than a hundred-twenty-foot yacht.

She just needed the cover of darkness.

And of course, in the quiet of the hour as shadows fell through the windows, memory stirred.Krakow three years ago, at the tail end of an op where she’d been trying to liberate a Ukrainian man named Luis.She’d gotten tangled up with Steinbeck and made the crazy decision to drag him to her safe house, where they could regroup.

In truth, she’d been buying time, hoping that she could figure out how to get Luis away from Steinbeck’s grip, because the SEAL wanted him too.But she and Steinbeck had formed a sort of alliance, and that night, after they’d sneaked out to make contact with his team, they’d returned to the flat, checked on Luis, who was locked in his room, and let night fall around them.

Maybe she’d let down her guard too much, but when Steinbeck had come into the room with a bowl of ramen noodles, set it down in front of her, and picked up his own ramen noodles and a pair of chopsticks, it had felt like they were a couple of—well, maybe frenemies having dinner.

“You never told me where you were from, Phoenix,” he’d said.

She’d looked at him and laughed.“No, I didn’t.Where are you from?”

“Originally Minnesota.My family runs an inn.It’s a Victorian house that used to be owned by my great-great-grandfather.He also built two other houses for his sons and a carriage house.I grew up in the carriage house while my parents rented out the other homes to guests.It’s called the King’s Inn.”

At that moment, she hadn’t wanted to tell him about her past.The one that included a mom who’d tried but couldn’t get off drugs, sleeping in cars, makeshift homes, and abandoned buildings, and how she and her sister Nimue had pledged to never, ever, ever live like that when they got older.

At least one of them had kept that promise.

So when Steinbeck had looked at her and said, “Okay, now you,” she’d simply shrugged and said, “Yeah, something like that.”

He’d studied her with those blue eyes, and she’d felt weirdly naked.She didn’t normally care what people thought about her, but he’d grown on her, gotten under her skin over the last thirty-six hours.Sofine,she’d put down her ramen noodles.“Okay, that’s not entirely true.Single mom.We moved around a lot.”

“We?”

Oh, he had a devastating smile.“I have a sister too.She’s a few years younger than me.Really smart.She’s into computers and hacking.”

“She a Black Swan too?”

Oh, that’s right, she had told him about her organization—the fact that she worked for the clandestine international all-female group that helped stop terrorism around the world.“No,” she’d said, “She has a job working for a company that does white-hat hacking.From home.In her pajamas.She lives in Florida, has a normal life.”

“I’m not sure what that looks like.”Stein had finished his soup and set it down.“I’ve never thought about leaving the teams.”

“What made you want to be a SEAL?”she’d asked as she finished her ramen.

He’d also brought out a couple of cold Fanta drinks and uncapped them.She reached for hers.

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