Page 156 of Rescuing You

But how, without alerting everyone else on board of his presence?

Lightning burst in the sky, and he had his answer. He counted one, two, three…

Thunder cracked.

Michael scrambled up the ladder, stopping below the level of the deck to avoid being seen.

He whispered, “Next thunder, I go.”

“Copy,” Stone said.

He waited, waited.

Come on.

He both cursed this stupid storm for its cold and waves and thanked God for the darkness and noise.

Come on…

A flash.

One…Michael popped his head up.

Two…sighted the man to the port side.

Three…

Thunder crackled.

He fired. The man went down.

The other man turned when his friend collapsed. Confused.

Michael fired again, getting the shot off an instant before the thunder faded.

Keeping low, he scrambled onto the deck and to the first man. He opened one of the bench seats surrounding the deck, then lifted the man and dumped him inside. A moment before he closed the lid, he spied something. A waterproof bag, the kind used to protect food and cell phones.

Perfect.

He grabbed it, opened a second bench seat. There were only two life jackets. He grabbed them and dumped the second body inside.

The rain was already washing away the blood.

With the life jackets and the bag looped over one arm, he settled in front of the hatch that led belowdecks, breathing. Thinking.

The sisters were probably in the cabin. He wanted to get them off the boat, but he had to disable the engine first. Which meant the terrorists were probably going to know he was there before he could rescue Leila and her sister.

He hated that, but there was nothing for it.

Much as he wanted to check on them, he had to assume they weren’t alone, and the guards with them wouldn’t wait for the cover of thunder to shoot.

He’d have had no choice in the matter if not for the second hatch just a few feet away. This one was built into the deck floor right beside the stairs that led up to the cockpit. If the pilot or someone with him were to look down at just the right moment, they’d see him.

A risk he’d have to take.

He pressed his hands against the cold door behind him, imagining Leila on the other side. Terrified of the water and the waves. And the men who’d snatched her. Soon, sweetheart. Just hang on.

He considered waiting for another blast of lightning, but the storm seemed to be moving off. Staying low, he hurried to the hatch, pulled it up, swung down, and lowered it over his head.