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  He’d then proceeded to question her about what she knew about John and his mission. When she didn’t give him an answer he liked—which was most of the time—he struck her across the face.

  “Wrong answer.”

  “I can’t tell you something I don’t know. John didn’t tell me anything.”

  One of the four other men she’d seen going in and out of the room—the guy who was looking at her computer—came over and whispered something in Mick’s ear that caused him to hit her again. This time with his fist on her cheek with enough force to draw blood.

  She’d been trying not to make a sound, conscious of people listening, but she couldn’t stop herself from crying out this time. She saw stars—or more accurately, black spots and flashes of light.

  “You’re lying,” he said. “We just found the unpublished article on your computer. You know the one to which I’m referring—the one where you mention survivors. Who are they?”

  Obviously, her rudimentary attempt to hide her articles hadn’t been much of a deterrent, but her paranoia hadn’t extended to this type of situation. God, what had she done?

  “If you were spying on me you should know that I made that up. I lost my job because of it. Didn’t you read the paper?”

  “Your boyfriend’s alive. Were you lying about that, too? Why shouldn’t I believe there were others?”

  “Even if there were, do you honestly think he would have divulged information like that to me?”

  “Then what reason do I have to keep you alive?”

  “None.”

  He laughed at her bravado. “No. There you are wrong. I suspect your boyfriend will be much more forthcoming with information when you are the one suffering for his answers.”

  “He isn’t my boyfriend. If you were watching me as you say, you would know that.”

  He shrugged indifferently. “Maybe not. But for your sake, I hope you are wrong or you are going to have a very long and unpleasant death.”

  Brittany was doing her best to be brave, but there was nothing she could do to stave off the chill of terror at the thought of being tortured to death. But he’d just given her the opening she needed to convey to anyone who was listening the number of men she’d seen. “Are you sure it won’t be your death?” She looked around. “I hope you have an army hiding on this ship. Five men versus one SEAL aren’t very good odds.”

  Mick just laughed. “I think I like my odds—even with a broken wrist.” He held up an impressive-looking gun, which he’d pulled from his waist, and pressed it to her temple.

  But her terror turned outward when she heard a voice on a radio. “He’s here.”

  Mick radioed back. “Is he alone?”

  A pause. “Looks that way.”

  “Make sure. Then bring him over. Search him first. Search him well.”

  Mick’s men were watching the warehouse from the ship, ready to unload if John attempted a rescue. But he’d come alone. Exactly as she’d warned him not to.

  She prayed Mac had gotten her message and was listening. But she dared not check the phone in her pocket.

  God, what if she’d accidentally turned it off with the moving around?

  As much as she didn’t want to see him, Brittany couldn’t prevent her heart from leaping to her throat when John was led into the room. He still managed to look intimidating, even with his hands zip-tied behind his back and being led in at gunpoint by one of the men who’d been in the room earlier.

  None of the other men had spoken to her directly, but from what she’d heard, they spoke English as well as Russian. With the tattoos and leather, they looked more like Russian Mafia than soldiers, but from what she knew of the Russian Mafia, that might not be a good thing.

  John didn’t even glance in her direction. He kept his eyes fixed on Mick.

  He must be furious with her for getting him into this. She wanted to apologize. Wanted to tell him she was sorry for not listening to him. Sorry for writing that stupid article in the first place. She’d never meant for anything like this to happen.

  “I’m here,” John said calmly. “Now let her go.”

  Mick laughed. “Right. You didn’t really think that was going to happen?”

  John held his stare. “No.”

  “And still you came alone?”

  “What choice did I have?”

  “You could have left her to her fate. It’s what you should have done.”

  There was a soft thud outside the door. Mick’s head turned at the same time as the door opened.

  “And you should have brought more men,” John said as the room exploded in gunfire. Brittany was pushed from the chair to the ground as John launched himself between her and Mick.

  * * *

  • • •

  Two SEALs—one with his hands tied and no weapons—against five armed guys wasn’t exactly best-case-scenario territory, but it was a damned lot better than the worst-case scenario John had been facing before he’d received the call from Brittany’s mysterious friend, who’d only identified herself as Mac.

  Mac had been the one to give Brittany that tracking program attached to the photo.

  She’d also—thank God—given Brittany a burner phone that Brittany had managed to access. It not only pinpointed where she was being held, but it had also given Mac an inside voice into what was happening on the ship. Brittany’s voice.

  Mac had been feeding him information, but John realized that she’d been keeping information from him. Like Brittany getting the crap beaten out of her.

  John hadn’t trusted himself to look at her, but even out of the corner of his eye he’d seen her bloodied cheek and bruised face.

  He was relieved when he heard the body drop outside and knew that the LC had successfully snuck onboard—for a SEAL there wasn’t a better place to rescue a hostage than a ship—as he was having a hard time not launching himself at the bastard who’d hurt her.

  He hoped Buddha and his crew weren’t far behind, but for now it was just John and the LC.

  They had the advantage of surprise. Mick and his crew had anticipated a rescue attempt at the warehouse, not on board the ship, as they didn’t realize John knew where Brittany was actually being held.

  With his hands tied behind his back, John used his body like a battering ram, knocking the bastard off his feet and into the wall. He followed with a kick to the head that landed with a satisfying crunch.

  John heard the sound of two shots behind him and knew that the LC had taken care of the two other guys. “The big one,” John said, turning over his shoulder. “He has a knife.”

  The LC fumbled around while John kept his foot on Mick’s neck. He was unconscious, but the LC wanted him alive. A few seconds later, the LC had the knife and John’s hands were free.

  “He’s mine after you are done with him,” John said to the LC. He was already heading toward Brittany when the LC nodded.

  The next few moments were a blur. John cut the zip ties that had been used to bind her feet and arms, and then she was in his arms. He didn’t know what he was saying; all he knew was that she was safe.

  “God, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I love you so much. I never should have left.”

  The bruised and bloody face that looked up at him was filled not with wonder and happiness at his words but with outrage. “You have got to be kidding me. I’ve been waiting for five years to hear those words out of Mr. Good Times’ mouth and now you say them? In a room full of dead guys and me looking like this?”

  John tried not to smile, but it was damned hard. “I think you look beautiful.” He stroked her bruised face gently with the pad of his thumb. “These will heal, but you are alive.”

  She was trying not to smile, too, but her eyes were glistening with tears. “If you think you are getting away with telling me you love me like that, you are more crazy than he