SEALs of Honor: Dane Page 5

  Dane nodded. “I do. But it’s hard as I don’t know why.”

  “Ah, interesting. Instinct perhaps?”

  “Maybe.” Suddenly irritated and needing to move on, Dane asked, “What about eye witnesses?”

  “The police are canvassing the neighborhood. If they find anything they’ll let us know.”

  The two men shared wry glances. That was the one thing Dane knew wouldn’t happen. Chances were good that some information would be passed over but not all of it. Not what they’d need to deal with this.

  As they walked up the outside stairs to the second floor, Hawk motioned to the motel room. “How is she?”

  “Head injury but nothing broken. She’ll be fine.”

  “Not good on the head injury.”

  Dane nodded. He used their smart rap code and after the correct response from inside, entered.

  Hawk walked over to Marielle. “Hey, how are you feeling? Sorry today ended up being such a crappy day for you.”

  She looked over at him, her eyes drowsy but alert. “There are crappy days, and then there is today.” Her gaze zeroed in on Dane still standing at the doorway. Then she dropped her gaze as if to sleep.

  Hawk walked back to Dane. “She’s cognizant.”

  “Good, but we do need to keep a close eye on her.”

  “We will. We need her. And her research. If nothing else, to make sure it doesn’t fall into anyone else’s hands.”

  Chapter 8

  SO THIS IS what it was like to be watched all the time. She sneezed at one point and the men rushed to her side. All she wanted to do was hold her head against the pain. She collapsed back down, holding up her hand. “It was just a sneeze,” she whimpered. “I’m fine.”

  Except for the damn hammer drill working away at the inside of her skull.

  She sat up and slowly made her way to the bathroom. Dane separated from the pack and walked with her. She smiled at him. “It’s only ten steps, Dane, I’ll be okay.”

  He never said a word but leaned against the wall outside the small room. While washing her hands she contemplated the shower. She’d love one, but the thought of having a half dozen of the most rugged men waiting for her outside was a little unnerving. She decided against it. With her luck she’d accidentally bang against the wall and have them all run in checking on her.

  She could save that opportunity for…say never.

  Outside again, she walked slowly to the bed. Had almost reached it when her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten much, only the bit of bread and butter and the cheese.

  She flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry. Breakfast was a while ago.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” Dane said smoothly. “We all have to eat too.”

  The men immediately started to scrap over food choices. As they were in Germany, she figured they’d likely end up with sausages on a bun from a neighborhood butcher, but when Mason left and returned with an assortment of different foods, she wasn’t sure what she was to eat. Had they all ordered something different or was he just bringing in food to share? She watched and waited.

  Then laughed.

  Dane was grabbing two plates full of food. One for her and one for himself.

  When he walked toward her, she shifted to lean back against the headboard. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, sat down beside her and tucked into his own food. She ate slowly, savoring the food, then realized the men didn’t know what that meant. They were inhaling the meal without appearing to appreciate what they ate. She got the impression food was energy and that was how they ate. As if it didn’t make any bit of difference what the food was.

  She settled down to enjoy her mix of potatoes, veggies and of course sausages. Still the fresh bread on the side was welcome. Now a coffee would top this off perfectly.

  By the time she was halfway through her plateful, her head and stomach were arguing. And she was afraid her head was winning as the food started to churn. She slowly laid her plate down and sat up, her hand to her belly.

  Dane stopped eating. “It’s not staying down?”

  She slowly stood up. “I’m not so…” And then she knew. And bolted for the toilet where she lost everything she’d eaten. As hungry as she had been, she was now wishing food never existed. Even the smell was getting to her. She was hesitant to walk back out. Not with that much food around. And as much as she wanted a coffee, that was starting to sound like a bad idea too.

  How long was this going to last? Honestly, she felt like shit.

  Shaky, she made her way back to bed, all eyes watching her trip. When she curled up facing the wall, she could hear them all move. She closed her eyes and willed them away.

  Until there was a harsh knock on the door.

  Everyone froze.

  She curled up into a tighter ball wishing she could disappear. Go home and forget about Professor Michaels and this trip. Go back to her mother and her research. She hoped Masters would be okay. Then she realized the professor was dead. So who was going to look after Masters?

  She heard voices so assumed someone had answered the door. But she didn’t know who it was or why they were here. The men would handle it. She just had to handle herself.

  *

  DANE STOOD IN the way of anyone from the door being able to see the occupant in the bed. Hawk stood at his side. Both faces, stone hard, stared at the hotel manager. He was upset about the number of people in the room. Dane snorted. Really? In college they’d have had lots more people in a single room. They’d bought two rooms as there was always going to be several men on guard duty outside. There were now. He could just imagine if the manager knew about them.

  Mason patted the manager on the shoulder and walked him outside far enough that the others could shut the door and keep Marielle in the shadows.

  Dane slipped to the window and peered out. Mason was still talking to the manager and appeared to be handing over more money. Figured. The cash under the table bribe seemed to work in every country. He glanced back at Marielle, not happy at her color. How could they move her if she was seriously hurt? She’d been fine then all of a sudden she wasn’t fine.

  Swede walked over. “I just spoke with the doctor. He’s not happy with the change in her condition. He wants her brought in for tests.”

  The three men looked at each other then at Marielle who appeared to be finally asleep. “He can’t come here for a second checkup?”

  Swede shook his head. “Says that won’t do anything. At the hospital they can run some tests. If there is swelling on the brain then that will need to be carefully monitored.”

  “And the food might not have agreed with her.”

  Mason walked back in. “Trouble averted for the moment.” He stopped and stared at the men, his gaze narrowing. “What’s up?”

  “I called the doctor. He wants to run some tests on Marielle in light of her new symptoms.”

  Mason slowly shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

  “And if she’s got a serious head injury?” Dane asked. “Then what?”

  “We’re supposed to be leaving the country tonight. Going home.”

  There was a startled silence as the men studied Mason. “Why?” Shadow asked. “And why now?”

  “The dead prof. The attack on Marielle. All point to the company Hyack as we thought. Although based in Germany, they have a factory in China.” He offered a wry smile. “Looks like we’re heading there next.”

  They relaxed. “Good. Makes more sense than running around in the dark here.”

  “And Marielle, what do we do with her?”

  “Do we have her passport?” At Dane’s nod, Mason said, “We’ll take her to San Diego and let the doctors check her over there.”

  “Then we need to move fast,” Dane said. “If she goes to the hospital here it will be hours if not days before she’ll be released. We can hardly spring her free if we’re the ones who took her in the first place. And if we take too long, she could end up in serious trouble.”

 
“I’ll see if I can move that time forward. Departure was originally set for nine pm.”

  Dane looked at his watch. “Try to reschedule for…how about right now.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Swede said from the doorway.

  Mason headed back outside. “Do you think it’s safe to take her with us? To move her.”

  “It think it’s safer than leaving her here unprotected.”

  “Good point.”

  Chapter 9

  MARIELLE WAS BUNDLED up in a blanket and packed out to the SUV like a little child. She woke at the beginning of the process. Her protests about being able to walk fell on deaf ears. Inside the car she watched the others split up into three vehicles and head out convoy style. She didn’t know if she was still considered a suspect or if they were being nice and protecting her or if now she was considered important for their case. She knew something had shifted.

  It was hard to be unhappy about it. It appeared she was going to be leaving the country and going home. That suited her.

  Then she remembered Masters.

  She told Mason that with Professor Michaels gone someone had to help the cat. He just stared at her. “Not our problem.”

  She glared at him. “We can’t leave him.”

  “We can’t take him.” Final and clear.

  “Not good enough. Someone has to know the owner of the house left a cat locked up inside.”

  “We’re on a mission. We’re SEALs and that cat is not the mission.”

  “You’re men sometimes, not always SEALs,” she snapped, feeling a punch in her gut at hearing they were part of that elite, elusive group. Her comment earned her a hard look. “And protecting those that can’t help themselves should be part of that mission, Masters included.”

  Mason drove while she fretted. Dane had gone into a different vehicle. She hated that. Finally they pulled into a military base and papers were brought out. Including hers. She sat in the backseat wondering if she’d be allowed to fly. Did anyone know she was even at the house of the dead man? Did they care if she was?

  The vehicle pulled forward and headed for a large hanger on the side. Inside was a military looking plane. As in this thing meant serious business. Organized chaos was going on inside. Nothing panicked but serious directed activity. She was good with that.

  The vehicle pulled over and her door opened. Mason scooped her out and put her on a small luggage cart. He walked beside but she was driven to the plane. She felt ridiculous.

  “Could’ve walked you know,” she muttered. “Feel silly.”

  “You look like hell.”

  That shut her up.

  She was carried to a seat up front and tucked in out of the way. After that she sat and watched. With any luck she’d be stateside in a few hours. Like hell she was leaving home again anytime soon. Her head still boomed, but fatigue was the real problem right now. She just wanted to sleep.

  Before long the plane was taxiing down the runway. It stopped for something. She didn’t know what the commotion was but shortly afterward, it geared up those powerful engines. And they were in the air minutes later.

  Now that she’d managed to get this far, she curled up in her chair and slept.

  Hours later she woke groggy and sore and feeling like a bus had dragged her around the block. She raised a hand to her head. The booming was still going on but in a background noise type of way. Another noise finally penetrated the fog. She shifted so she could look around and found a cat carrier beside her. “Masters!” she cried out softly.

  The huge tabby, well-travelled and comfortable in his personal cage, meowed back. She slid several fingers through the holes in the wall and stroked the animal’s silky fur. His diesel engine kicked out the walls of the cage in a distinct hum. She’d loved that cat. She didn’t know if she had legal rights to him or not but was happy to foster him until they could find out.

  With a gentle smile on her face she looked over at Mason who sat across from her buried in thoughts. “Thanks, Mason.”

  He rolled his head her way, saw her and the cat and shook his head. “Not me. Thank Dane. And he’ll catch hell for it too.”

  “Oh no.” That was the last thing she wanted, but it was hard to be upset with the cat’s huge eyes staring so trustingly at her. “Masters and I are old friends. I used to cat sit him at my house when Michaels was still my prof.”

  “Hmm.” But there was humor in Mason’s voice. “Never knew Dane to be a cat person.”

  Shadow, walking over to sit down beside Mason, said, “He’s not. He’s a Marielle person.”

  The two men snickered.

  She blinked, not getting the jibe for a moment, then felt her cheeks flush bright red. She gazed at the cat, a tiny smile on her lips. Really? “He’s very sweet,” she murmured.

  The men laughed. “Yeah, that’s Dane all right. He’s sweet.” Shadow raised his voice loud enough for the rest of the occupants in the plane to hear. “We should call him that from now on.”

  Dane came out of nowhere and shoved his face into Shadow’s rollicking laughing one.

  Marielle gasped. “What are you doing?” she scolded. “Shadow has been a big help.”

  Dane backed off, rolled his eyes and Shadow lost it, slumping down in the chair, snickering. Marielle turned her gaze to Mason who was desperately trying to hold his own amusement in.

  “Dane’s really a very nice man,” she said earnestly. “He’s been good to me.”

  Mason, his face contorting with effort, managed to keep his mouth shut as he got up and walked to the back. She frowned at his retreating back. Were his shoulders shaking?

  Spinning around she caught Dane’s brooding glare. She threw up her hands. “What did I say?”

  “You called me sweet,” he growled.

  Her face softened, her hand instinctively going back to touch Masters. “And you are,” she said gently. “I really appreciate that you brought Masters.”

  “I couldn’t leave him behind,” he growled, “and none of the neighbors wanted him or could tell me if there was anyone left to look after him.”

  “Exactly.” She beamed at him. “See…caring, kind…sweet.”

  *

  HE SHOULD BE insulted. There was really only so much a man could take. The guys were never going to let him live this down.

  Yet he wasn’t insulted – not really. Or rather, if she’d said that while the two of them were alone, he’d not have minded at all. Still the guys would razz him good for a while. Then, he’d done his fair share of bugging them, so maybe it was his turn. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

  He napped in a half doze, always alert but knowing the trip was going to be long enough and if he could catch some rest, it was the best option.

  At the sound of whispers in the back, he sat quietly for the moment then straightened and looked around. Marielle lay draped across the cat cage and appeared to be asleep, but something was going on with his team. He got up and made his way to the back. “What’s up?”

  “Orders to change course,” Mason said. “We’ve got intel on Michaels’ boss. He was just tagged entering Italy.”

  Damn. He glanced back at Marielle. “Did you explain we have an injured civilian on board?”

  Mason winced. “Yeah, she’s to go to a medical center and we’re to leave her there. The US Embassy will be contacted on her behalf.”

  The other men sucked in their breaths. That was not something any of them would choose to do.

  “Not happening.” Dane sat down, his arms across his massive chest. “She needs care and not to be dumped in yet another foreign country.”

  Mason sighed. “I can only tell you what they are saying.”

  Dane understood. It wasn’t the first time they’d helped out a civilian in trouble and had to leave. Marielle wasn’t going to appreciate not getting home. The cat was also going to cause trouble. Shit. “She’s too valuable. We can’t leave her alone.”

  “No, but she could return sta
teside with another plane.”

  “True. Except they sent her with us.”

  “Exactly.” Mason was back on his communicator. “I’m working the angles.”

  Dane stared out the window, his mind spinning the options. He could stash her somewhere while they chased after the boss. By the time they landed, intel would be confirmed and a plan in place. They could be in and out of Italy within a few hours.

  Or days. Even weeks if things fell apart. She could not stay that long. Even healthy she couldn’t stay that long. She’d have to get a commercial flight and go home. With the cat. So more paperwork and more money to get the paperwork through fast enough to get the cat through the borders. His mind worked as the men waited on Mason.

  “We’re landing in a small airport a couple hours outside of Rome.”

  So much for a hotel. He’d seen some of those small airports. They were talking dirt strips if they were lucky. And that meant no airport hotel for Marielle. “What if she didn’t get off the plane?”

  At Mason’s sharp look he realized he’d asked his question out loud. He shrugged. “If she stays on board, then she’ll be able to go back with us.”

  “We could be days.”

  “We could be hours,” he countered.

  “It could be dangerous.”

  “She’s a target.” The best place for her was with them.

  “We don’t know she’s the target.”

  “The prof is dead. She’s alive and she’s the one with the research. They want her.”

  The others exchanged glances. They had a protocol in place for a lot of situations, but they also knew that every mission required adaption to make it through. They’d pushed the line many times. Sometimes to survive. Sometimes because it was the best thing to do. Sometimes it was the right thing to do.

  He hoped this time fit in one of those. There was no way he felt good about dumping Marielle, injured, in a small town miles from an international airport all alone.

  Hell no. Not going to happen.