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Chapter Sixteen

Foster leaned against the far wall, shaking his head as Zain ran his fingers along the shelving units, pressing anything that might be a switch.

They’d been searching the office since Mac and Kash had headed to the hanger but hadn’t found any evidence of a hidden compartment, let alone a secret room.

Not that Foster was fully focused on the task.

In fact, he’d been restless since she’d texted that they were getting airborne.

“Earth to Beckett.”

Foster blinked, snapping his attention to Zain as the man waved his hand in front of him. “What?”

“I said, I thought for sure one of those bookcases would slide open.” Zain tilted his head. “Where were you?”

“Just thinking.”

Zain sighed. “She’ll be okay. Kash is a beast. Maybe more hardcore than the rest of us. He just fakes all that Zen shit better.”

“It’s not Kash. I just…” How did Foster admit he had this churning in his gut without confessing he was head over heels for the girl?

Zain frowned. “You think they’re in trouble?”

“You think who’s in trouble?”

Foster turned toward the door, cursing under his breath at Chase leaning against the frame. “Jesus, buddy. I damn near threw my dad’s ugly ass paper weight at you. It’s an actual rock. I should know. I painted that thing in kindergarten.”

Chase laughed. “I texted you this morning that I’d be back within an hour or so, and I wasn’t exactly quiet. Where is everyone, and who’s in trouble?”

“They got a rescue call. And no one’s in trouble. I’m just on edge.”

“I didn’t get paged.”

Foster crossed his arms. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Shut up.” Chase looked at Zain then padded his way across the room. “You realize you’re gonna have to let her go to work, right?”

“She’s out on a mission, now, isn’t she?”

“And you’re here, working yourself into a lather.”

Foster flipped off his best friend. “That’s because we’re trying to find the damn drugs. And sue me for being concerned because there’s an ex-Green Beret asshole on our tail and a weather system reminiscent of the great flood about to swallow the entire Oregon coast.”

Chase simply shook his head. “All you had to say was that you’re hopelessly in love with her, and we’d get the point.”

“You’re an ass.”

Chase winked. “I know. But that doesn’t make what I said any less true.” He dodged Foster’s attempted slap. “So, we’re down to looking for some kind of secret hideaway? In the bookcase?”

Zain waved him off. “Don’t question, brother. Just look.”

Chase studied them as if he was questioning their sanity before heading for the far wall. He scoured the shelves then went to one knee, poking around the outer piece of molding before something clicked and it swung open. “You guys so owe me.”

Foster peered at the small lever inside. “This is crazy.”

“I think you mean insanely cool.” Chase pulled the lever down. There was a swoosh and an odd grating sound, then the back panel slid open, revealing a compartment behind the shelf. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Foster removed the contents, picking up one of the bottles of pills as Chase flipped through a series of papers. “Definitely Vexarin. Is that Carrington’s research?”

Chase nodded. “It’s insane, is what it is. Do you know what he spliced together?”

“That’s your wheelhouse, not mine. And I assume it isn’t good.”

“More like deadly. Christ, I can’t believe it ever went to trial.”

“Maybe—”

A blast of music cut Foster off, and he removed his cell, frowning. “It’s Mac on a video chat.”

Zain was at his side a heartbeat later. “No way they got all the way to Cascade Head and back in forty-five minutes. Which means this isn’t good news.”

Foster drew a deep breath, then hit the button. “Mac? Sweetheart is everything…”

Dead.

That’s how he felt. Standing there, staring into Striker’s wild eyes as he smirked into the camera.

Voss laughed. “I guess that depends on your perspective, Beckett. I’d say your buddy and your girlfriend have had better days.”

“Where are they?”

Voss angled the camera. Thompson had Mackenzie beside him, his gun jabbed in her ribs. Kash was braced against the side of the chopper, blood trickling down the side of his face with more matted in his hair. What was obviously a brutal head injury. “Do I have your attention, now?”

Foster clenched his jaw. “If you wanted to talk to me, Striker, all you had to do was knock on my door.”

“I prefer a more incentivized method. Since you know who I am, you know what I want.”

He held up the bottle. “You mean this?”

Striker’s eyes widened, and Foster swore the man actually licked his lips. “And the research?”

“It’s here, too.”

“Then, it looks like we can make a deal. The drugs and research for your friends.” He distorted the view for a moment then Foster’s phone pinged.

“I just shared your girlfriend’s location.

You’ve got one hour to get here. I’d suggest you fly, but I have the only chopper in town.

And rumor has it, you’re not that man, anymore.

You might want to consider a boat, seeing as it would take nearly double that to drive.

And that doesn’t count all the hiking you’d have to do. ”

“There’s an inbound storm cell, and I’m not a boat captain.”

“Then, I suggest you find someone who is. There’s a rough trail up the cliff. You might make it without falling. You can bring the medic, but that’s it.”

Foster’s stomach dropped. “Is Kash that bad?”

“Not yet. But I’m getting the sense you’re not fully committed, so…”

Striker turned, raised his gun and fired, hitting Mac in the upper left shoulder. She jerked out of Thompson’s grasp, landing on the ground with a resounding thud.

“No!” Foster hit the screen, wanting to punch right through it — save her. But all he could do was watch. Just like that night with Sean. No other recourse but to play along. Pray he reached her in time.

“You fucking son of a bitch.” Foster fisted his hand. “I swear to god if they’re not still breathing when I arrive, there won’t be a rock on this earth you’ll be able to hide under that I won’t find you.”

Striker merely grinned. “Now, you’re motivated. One hour, Beckett. Because I really don’t think she’ll last much longer than that.”

He ended the call, leaving Foster standing there. Frozen. His heart more like a dead weight inside his chest.

He closed his eyes, shoving down all the fear and uncertainty until all that was left was stone cold determination.

Then, he was moving. Yelling at Chase and Zain to pack everything up then get all their gear and meet him at his truck.

He detoured to his room, grabbing two rifles, his vest and all the ammo and gear he could carry before hoofing it down the stairs.

He tossed it all in the back of his truck then jumped behind the wheel.

He grabbed Saylor’s business card from the day before, tapping in her number as his buddies rounded the building, arms loaded with more supplies.

Saylor answered on the third ring. “Raven’s Nest, but we’re not?—”

“It’s Beckett. Please tell me you’re at your loft at the marina.”

“Yeah, but… Are you okay?”

“Not even close. I’ll explain everything once I’m there, but I need a boat and a captain, and I needed it five minutes ago. And Saylor…” He swallowed the roil of fear bubbling in his stomach. “This is going to be ugly.”

Saylor breathed heavily into the phone before she huffed. “I’ll share my location. I’ll have everything ready in five. This had better be life and death, Beckett.”

“It always is.” He ended the call then hit Bodie’s number, already reversing the truck with Chase and Zain still buckling in.

Bodie answered immediately. “People are gonna get the wrong idea about us, Beckett, if you keep calling me at odd hours.”

“Are you at the hospital with Greer?”

“Actually, no. She’s at my place. She’s as stubborn as everyone else and insisted on leaving. Against doctor’s orders, no less. Chase was going to get a room ready over there and catch a few hours of sleep, then drop by and grab her. Why?”

“I need a favor, brother. It’s big and it’s dangerous.”

Any hint of humor left the man’s voice. “Name it.”

“Greer should be safe at your place until we get back. But tell her not to let anyone in, even if they’re wearing a badge.

I’ll have Chase send you Saylor O’Conner’s address.

She’s ex-Coast Guard, and she’s readying a boat as we speak.

I need you to meet me there in ten. Five if you can swing it.

And Bodie… Bring as much as you can carry. ”

Foster disconnected the call, taking the roads faster than he should, not that Chase or Zain called him on it.

In fact, they looked as if they were willing the vehicle to go faster — skid around each turn a bit quicker.

They were hitting six minutes when he turned onto the small marina road, the wind already blowing over fifty.

A couple boats rocked against the dock in the small cove, the rough waves spraying water across the shoreline.

Saylor waved them over once they’d parked, arching a brow as they chucked a number of bags onto the main deck. “Is this some kind of invasion?”

“More like a tactical assault.” He gave her a quick rundown of the situation, doing his best not to scream. Because if he thought, for one second, that Mac was out there, bleeding along with Kash, he’d lose it.

Saylor schooled her features, simply nodding. “Then, let’s go get this bastard. And Beckett? You’d better have a weapon for me in there.”

Then, she was off, doing something to the nav at the helm when Bodie roared down the road and skidded to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. He didn’t bother parking the truck properly, just jumped out, grabbed nearly as much gear as they’d brought and loaded it onto the boat.

Chase took one of the bags, nodding toward town. “Is Greer secure?”