Page 154 of Rescuing You

Two clicks. A little over a mile.

“Plan?” Michael asked.

“Stand by.”

Michael moved closer to Shehab’s boat, holding himself less than fifty yards away. He figured the men on board would be focused on the giant coast guard vessel and, when it came into view, the boat Stone and the team had procured. Even if they were looking toward Michael, he doubted they’d see him through the pouring rain.

“I can board it and disable it,” Michael said.

“Stand by.” Brock spoke this time.

Michael’s team would put together a plan. If they used him in it, fine. If not…

He’d trust that they knew what they were doing. There weren’t a lot of options. Waleed would aim for a port where he’d feel secure, where American soldiers weren’t welcome. The team had to intercept the terrorists and rescue Leila and Jasmine before they came close to land.

“Okay,” Stone finally said. “Listen closely.”

It was simple—if not easy. The coast guard was going to come around from the east.

Brock and the team would head Shehab off on the west.

“We need you to approach from the north,” Stone said. “Without being seen.”

Michael gunned the engine and circled that way.

The plan should work. Assuming the men on board were rational and cared about their lives, it would work.

But terrorists weren’t rational, and they didn’t care about human lives—their own or anybody else’s.

He’d seen firsthand the damage they could do.

Early in his career, one of his confidential informants had been granted entry into the US, where Michael had assured him he’d be safe from the people who’d discovered he was passing information to Michael. The man had barely gotten settled when homegrown terrorists, having learned about what they considered his treachery, found him.

They took the man hostage.

Because it happened on US soil, Michael called the FBI. The problem was, the FBI hostage negotiator assumed the hostage-takers were rational and would act in their own self-interest.

He negotiated while the terrorists plotted and lied, making deals they never intended to keep.

When the FBI moved close, believing the kidnappers had been convinced to give up their hostage and turn themselves in, the terrorists started shooting.

FBI agents were killed. Terrorists were killed.

And Michael’s CI was killed.

The guilt had nearly destroyed him. He’d never been the most trusting soul, but after that, he found it nearly impossible to rely on anybody but himself.

This time, Michael had to trust his team. Even so, no matter what Brock and Stone planned, anything could happen.

But the alternative—losing Leila to these madmen, maybe never finding her again—was unthinkable.

Time dragged.

Or maybe it was the cold that made Michael feel like he was moving in slow motion.

Though he didn’t check his watch, dared not take his eyes off the target, Michael thought at least half an hour had passed by the time he’d circled and reached the rear of the boat.

As he’d hoped, none of Shehab’s men seemed to notice his approach. They were all focused on the giant military vessel heading them off from one side and the smaller speed boat they surely saw by now, coming in fast from the opposite direction.