SEAL’s Command by Makenna Jameison
Chapter 20
Ashleigh screamed as the bleached blond man rushed toward her, and she heard other male voices shouting in the hallway. She swung the scissors through the air, blindly slashing them at her attacker. She cut his hand as he reached out to stop her, and he roared in anger.
Not hesitating, she swung again, watching the blood trickling down his arm. It was only a surface wound, and he lunged toward her. He grabbed her wrist this time, wrenching the scissors free from her grasp. She kicked at him wildly, fighting as hard as she could. A second man rushed into the room, yelling at her. The second guy grabbed her arms, pulling them behind her back to subdue her as she struggled.
Tears streaked down her cheeks as her attacker tossed the scissors into the hallway, cursing. He grabbed a tee shirt, holding it against the cut on his hand. Pulling out his cell phone from his back pocket, he glared at her. He swiped something on the screen and then held up his phone, the light from the flash coming on. He was recording her.
“Send one of your men to me or this woman dies! I want the FBI agent who stole from my warehouse or the Navy commander responsible for crimes in Afghanistan. Give me your life for hers. Release the men you have arrested. In the name of Allah, it will be done!”
Stalking across the bedroom, he yanked open the closet. Her attacker grabbed some rope as Ashleigh gasped. He stalked toward her, yanking on her arms to tie her wrists tightly together. She struggled against the men but soon was standing there with both hands bound behind her back.
A third man appeared in the doorway, talking urgently in another language. After quickly tying her ankles together, the blond man lifted her up, tossing her onto his bed. The men stormed out of the room, arguing, leaving Ashleigh alone as she cried. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. Would he come back and rape her?
It was hard to fathom all of this was because she’d accidentally ended up at the cabin with Slate. If she’d immediately left in the snow that night, she’d never have gotten involved in any of this.
She’d never have gotten to know him either.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wondered how long it would take for Slate to look for her. He’d expect a text saying she’d gotten home safely. Would he worry about her then? Was he so busy on base that he wouldn’t realize she was gone until tonight?
She’d been kidnapped in broad daylight though. Someone had to have witnessed it and called the police right away.
Her body shook with quiet sobs as she tried not to let any of her kidnappers hear her. Slate would find her. He would. She wouldn’t feel safe until she was wrapped up in his arms. Her body shuddered as she tried to hold in all of her emotions. Her arms hurt from being tied behind her back, and she couldn’t even wipe her tears away.
“Post it online!” one of the men said. “Don’t waste time sending the video to the FBI. Post it where the entire world can see.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Ashleigh prayed. The men could be back in here at any moment, and she had no way to fight them. No way to stop them. “Please find me, Slate,” she whispered. “Please find me.”
***
The two SUVs raced down the California freeway toward the Mexican border. Slate was driving one, with Raptor riding shotgun and Jackson in the backseat. Ethan and Logan followed closely behind them in Ethan’s SUV. The men had put on tactical vests and geared up, bringing weapons, headsets, and supplies. Fortunately, Logan had finally spoken with the border patrol agents, who’d confirmed the crossing of Amir Mohammad’s van. Slate would owe the agent a favor, because he was going to expedite their crossing without making the SEALs wait in the long line of cars.
Slate gripped the steering wheel, speeding up, as he impatiently scanned the traffic ahead. He pulled around a slower vehicle, quickly changing lanes. His eyes were on the rearview mirror, watching as Ethan kept up. All the men were trained in defensive driving. Although Slate didn’t want to get into an accident, he was adamant that they get to the border as quickly as possible.
Raptor bit out a curse beside him. “There was a video posted online of Ashleigh, sir.”
His stomach dropped, an array of worst-case scenarios playing through his mind.
“She looks scared but unharmed. One man is holding her with her hands behind her back, while another is talking from behind the camera. They’re demanding you or an FBI agent in exchange for her life.”
“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “The United States doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. We’re not doing a goddamn thing.”
Jackson’s phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear, talking in a low voice from the backseat. “That was Commander Williams. The FBI called him and was pissed as hell that we’re taking point. The FBI agent claimed we needed to get State involved before we cause an international incident.”
“I’m not waiting on the goddamn State Department,” Slate said, his voice steel. “We’re getting Ashleigh back right now. I’ll deal with whatever consequences come from it. There’s no way I’m leaving her in Mexico a second longer than necessary.”
“Hell no,” Raptor agreed. “State will be tied up in red tape for hours. Let’s get your girl.”
Jackson continued. “One of the wanted men from the homegrown terror cell turned himself in to the FBI just now. He saw the video footage of Ashleigh posted online and was mad the others had left the country without him. He’s willing to talk.”
Slate grunted. “That’s good news for the investigation but probably won’t help us right now. The border is coming up in one mile. How far to the home in Tijuana once we cross into Mexico?”
Raptor glanced at the GPS navigation on his phone. “Should be less than thirty minutes. Are we rolling up in our SUVs? We’re going to stand out in that neighborhood.”
“I don’t give a shit. We’re armed, and I’m not concerned about Mexican gangs. Nearly all of the crime there is tied to drug cartels. We leave them alone, and they won’t bother us. Even out of uniform, they’ll realize we’re U.S. military or government. We’ll retrieve Ashleigh and then get the hell out of there.”
Slate’s phone buzzed as they pulled up to the border, and he took Ace’s call. “Another satellite just passed over Tijuana. Don’t ask me how I got into their system, but I got imagery. A white van is still parked at the house.”
“Thank God,” Slate said, letting out a breath.
The two SUVs slowed to go through the border crossing. After showing their IDs, they were soon heading into Mexico. “How are we going to get Ashleigh back across the border if she doesn’t have an ID?” Raptor suddenly asked.
“I’ll handle it. I’ll have Commander Williams make a few calls since he’s back in Coronado. We’ll get authorization to border patrol for her to return without incident.”
Slate spoke into his headset, talking with Ethan and Logan in the other vehicle. Thirty minutes later, they were all turning into a neighborhood in a poor section of Tijuana. Several old, rusted cars were parked along the streets, and Slate knew the men stood out in their large SUVs. Children were playing on the street, and they watched the vehicles drive by.
Someone would have to stand guard when they breached the house so their vehicles weren’t vandalized or stolen. The last thing they needed was to get Ashleigh and have no quick way to get her out of there. Word would spread quickly that they were here.
Jackson apparently had the same thought. “I’ll stay with the SUVs,” he said. “This is a rough area.”
“It’s the house up there on the corner,” Raptor said in a low voice. “The white van is still parked in the driveway.”
“Let’s turn the vehicles around for a quick getaway,” Slate said. “We can do a U-turn and then leave them facing south for our exit.”
“Roger,” Logan said from the second SUV.
Twenty seconds later, Slate was speeding down the street. He executed a neat U-turn, pulling in front of the driveway and blocking the white van. They’d already decided that Slate and Raptor would breach the front door while Ethan and Logan went around the sides and back of the home.
Jackson jumped out with his Kevlar vest and gear, armed with his weapon as his gaze swept up and down the street. Awareness prickled the back of Slate’s neck. He’d spent plenty of time moving through foreign countries and rough areas as a SEAL. Never had the life of the woman he loved been at stake before.
Slate signaled to his men, and then they were rushing forward. He didn’t hesitate to breach the door, just kicked it in as gunfire sounded from inside. Raptor took out one man who sprung up from behind an old chair, and then they heard shots fired from the backyard as one man jumped out a low window, trying to escape.
“One man down,” Raptor said as he rushed over to kick the weapon away from the dying terrorist. He gurgled and choked, bleeding out right there in the living room.
“One tango taken out around back,” Ethan said over the headsets. “Hurricane and I are moving in.”
Raptor swept the rest of the living room and kitchen, and then Slate was moving down the hallway. The two bedrooms were both empty, and he stilled as he heard a whimper coming from behind a closed door. Aiming his weapon, he yanked open the door, his heart catching as he saw Ashleigh tied up and lying on the floor in the darkness. Tears stained her cheeks as she helplessly looked up at him, and his gaze raked over her body, checking for any injuries as he hurriedly crouched down.
“I found her,” he said into his headset. “Repeat. I found the package. Get ready to move out.”
He clicked off his microphone, letting Raptor update the others as he reached for his girl. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re safe now.” He briefly brushed one gloved hand over her cheek, unable to resist touching her.
“Slate,” she babbled. “Take me home. Get me out of here.”
“I will, baby. I will. Let’s get you out of these ropes first.” Slate grabbed his K-BAR knife, cutting the ropes free from Ashleigh’s wrists. She winced in pain, and he quickly rubbed her shoulders, murmuring soothing words. He sliced though the rope binding her ankles and then eased her into his arms and stood, cursing as she started crying harder.
“Are you hurt,” he asked urgently.
“No,” she cried, clinging to him. “I’m scared.”
A muffled gunshot sounded, and then Raptor spoke over the headsets. “Third man is down. No other tangoes. The house is clear.”
“Roger that. Let’s move out!” Slate ordered.
He turned and rushed down the hall with Ashleigh in his arms, nodding at Raptor. “You’re driving. Get my keys.”
The younger man hurried toward him, grabbing the keys to Slate’s SUV and leading the way out the front door. Jackson was still standing outside, weapon ready as his gaze scanned the area. Ethan and Logan rushed over to them, shielding Slate and Ashleigh in case anyone else appeared.
“Thank God you’re okay,” Slate said, carrying her to his SUV. Raptor had already climbed in and started the engine. Logan stood guard as Ethan started the second SUV, and then the other men were piling into the vehicles. Jackson took shotgun beside Raptor, and as soon as Slate got Ashleigh and himself into the backseat, he lifted her into his arms.
Raptor spoke quickly into the headsets, and then they were pulling forward, racing down the street. The children were still playing as they sped by, leaving the rundown houses and poor neighborhood behind them. It was hell to see the way the people here lived, but Slate’s primary concern at the moment was his woman.
Slate held Ashleigh on his lap, tight in his arms as she trembled, afraid to even let go.
“Did they hurt you?” he asked quietly, almost afraid to know the answer. He shifted slightly, and Jackson reached back to grab his weapon, so that he could more easily hold Ashleigh. Her blonde hair spilled over his chest, and his heart tugged at the rightness of having her here in his arms.
“No,” she whimpered. “They didn’t hurt me.”
He looked into her tearful eyes. “Are you sure? We can head straight to a hospital once we cross back into California.”
“They didn’t hurt me,” she repeated. “They threatened to, but nothing happened.” Then she started to cry again, clinging to him as Raptor sped through the streets of Mexico. Slate kissed the top of her head, nearly overwhelmed that she was really safe and in his arms. He didn’t know what type of recovery Ashleigh would need after her ordeal, but he would help her every step of the way. He’d almost lost her today, and Slate knew he’d never take her for granted. Ashleigh was it for him, and he’d do everything in his power to make sure she knew that every day of her life.
“I love you,” he whispered gruffly, not caring if the other men all heard.
She hugged him tightly, burying her head in his chest. “I love you, too.”