Page 43 of Defended By the SEAL
“Unfortunately, I am not.”
Cowboy reached for his rumpled coat, wet with snow but dry on the inside, and pulled it on. He hesitated, glancing at the gun still resting in her lap. “Grams…”
She gave him a pointed look, her hand curling around the weapon with practiced ease. “I’m not some helpless old lady. The only reason Sarkisyan got the jump on me was because I wasn’t expecting trouble. Now I am.”
Her tone left no room for argument, and Cowboy couldn’t help the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Remind me never to underestimate you.”
Grams smiled, her expression softening. “Good. Now go catch up with your team and bring my granddaughter back safe and sound.”
Cowboy grabbed his boots and jacket, every movement a reminder of the fight he’d lost. But the thought of Charlotte—out there in the freezing cold, facing Sarkisyan without him—ignited a fire in his gut that burned hotter than the pain.
He paused at the door, turning back to Grams. “You’ll lock up, right?”
She waved him off, already tucking the pistol into the pocket of her cardigan. “I’ll be fine, Leo. Now off with you.”
With a nod, Cowboy stepped into the storm, the cold air slicing through him like a knife. His body protested every step, but his mind was sharp, focused on one thing: findingCharlotte and putting an end to Sarkisyan’s plans—no matter what it took to extinguish that threat.
There was just one problem with that plan. Whoever had knocked him out had gotten the jump on him, but he still didn’t think that was a guy as old as Sarkisyan. If he was right, that meant there was at least one other person on this island, and that person might even have Deke and Booger.
He spit into the snow. He damn well knew it would take more than one man to incapacitate two of his team, and that was without even counting himself. Swearing colorfully, he picked up his pace. Without a headcount or even an estimate, he couldn’t imagine what his crew was up against—and the woman he loved was right in the middle of what was bound to be some very dangerous action.
24
The group pushed deeper into the tunnels, their flashlights cutting through the oppressive darkness. The faint sounds of voices ahead made them freeze, backs pressing against the cold stone walls. Champion held up a hand, signaling for silence, as the group listened intently.
Two guards were stationed near the steel door at the end of the narrow passage, their voices low but audible in the still air.
“…less than three hours now,” one of them said, his words sending a jolt through Charlotte’s chest.
“He’s crazy for trying to pull this off tonight,” the other guard replied. “The storm, these people poking around… it’s a mess. The fucking snow hasn’t even stopped yet. What kind of pictures are they going to get in the fucking snow?”
The first guard grunted. “Sarkisyan doesn’t care. He’s put too much into this job. He’ll blow this place sky-high before he lets anyone stop him.”
Charlotte exchanged a look with Tom, her stomach sinking.Less than three hours. That was all the time they had to stop Sarkisyan and prevent him from framing her family.
Champion motioned for the group to move back down the passage, retreating far enough that their whispers wouldn’t carry. His face was grim as he turned to the others. “We can’t take them out now without drawing attention. We wait until they leave.”
“How long?” Austin asked, his tone impatient.
“Could be an hour,” Champion said, his gaze hard. “They won’t stick around forever.”
Tom frowned. “And if they stay?”
“They won’t,” Champion replied firmly. “Sarkisyan’s too focused on the timeline. He’ll want all hands on deck at the harbor soon.”
The group settled in as best they could, tension thick in the air. Charlotte leaned against the wall, her flashlight clutched tightly in her hand. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, every passing second a reminder of the clock ticking toward disaster.
The faint sound of footsteps in the distance made her heart leap. She turned just as Cowboy appeared, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of a flashlight. Relief and frustration washed over her in equal measure.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” she whispered harshly as he approached.
“Resting while Sarkisyan blows up the island? Not a chance,” Cowboy replied, his grin sharp despite the bruises on his face. “What’s the plan?”
Champion quickly filled him in, his voice low. “We’ve got guards near the door. They mentioned less than three hours until the bombs detonate, maybe 45 minutes ago. We wait until they leave, then we rescue Deke and Booger.”
Cowboy’s expression darkened. “Not much time ‘till somebody yells BINGO.”
“It’s all we’ve got,” Champion replied. “Once we get them out, we hit the harbor and take Sarkisyan down.”
