In the Shadow of the Tiger (The Fighter Series Book 2) Read online

  Jack glanced back at his team, but Riley kept looking backward. She couldn’t forget the hostage behind the door.

  “Cobra,” Jack said watching Riley.

  “I can take them back to the hostage," Riley said. She knew all he could see were the whites of her eyes and maybe just a little glow of the blue-gray shining through. Riley saw a split second of hesitance. A moment when she thought for sure he wasn't going to let her go back. Knowing the fine line between personal involvement and work, Riley wasn't so sure she'd listen to her commander if he denied her to go back.

  Cobra’s voice came across the radio. “Copy.”

  Jack turned away from her, but she could hear him loud and clear. “I’m sending Relay and Piston for the hostage.” He turned to them. “Get the prisoner out. Meet us in the reception area.”

  Riley took in a deep breathe. She couldn’t explain the need to go back nor did she fully believe the warning she’d had earlier. She needed to see who was in the room. Jack nodded at Riley and then Sam. Without instruction, Sam stepped in next to Riley and took Charlie.

  “Be careful!” Jack murmured patting Piston on the shoulder. Riley knew he’d done something he didn’t want to do for her sake, but at the same time, Jack also knew there were times he was going to have to let her go. After all, he was sending her with Piston, bodyguard, and sniper.

  An untold story hidden in darkness keeping events yet to happen. Its obscurity loaded with both truth and lies. The imagination plays on what the eyes cannot see especially without light. In front of them, an unwavering dimness teetered between total blackness and white light turning smaller shadows into giant ones. The sounds of the darkness made fine hairs on the back of necks rise. It rattled nerves and shattered folklore. Boogieman did not exist. She’d incurred one monster already and didn’t want a repeat. Next time her pistol pointed center mass and if the first bullet didn’t take the monster down the second would. If that didn’t work, she was betting on Piston.

  The further they moved away from the team the more vulnerable she felt. She needed to know that it wasn’t Eric behind that door. Get the hostage and get out. She wasn’t leaving without him regardless of whom he was. Piston stepped next to her when she stopped at the door.

  "10-97," Cobra said.

  Riley pressed her face to the door; the steel chilled her cheek through her face mask.

  “Copy,” Jack said.

  “We’re a minute away.” 38’s voice crackled slightly through the earpiece.

  “Copy.” Piston replied.

  “Behind you,” Riley said to Piston.

  Piston turned just as a man turned the corner. There were two muffled pops and then a thump as the holder of the keys, she’d already witnessed as dead, fell to the floor.

  “One more,” Riley said.

  “You’re dead,” a man said stepping out into the open.

  “No,” said a voice from behind him. “You are.” 38 stepped out from the shadows. A slight flicker of light bounced out of the barrel of his gun. The man went down.

  “Keys,” Riley said brushing past Piston. She bent over and turned the dead man over unhooking the keys from his pant loop.

  “You’re scaring me, Relay.” He said.

  Spinning the keys around, Riley held one in particular. She looked at the shape then slid it into the lock. She was getting a little help from the angel upstairs, and the thought of Utah made her smile. She moved to the side feeling Piston's arm brush past hers. Time slowed, and Riley felt a tremor of fear, apprehension.

  “You got it?” Piston asked her.

  “Hurry it up,” Mustang said. “Heat’s coming.”

  Riley felt 38 step up behind her. “I’ll go first.”

  “Behind the door.” She said.

  The silence hummed. Riley turned the key. The lock clicked. 38 went in, but before he did, Riley saw the glow of the single candle flickering in the back of the room. 38 entered with his arm and weapon extended. The silhouette on the chair didn't move, but the drunken man behind the door did. It was a repeat of what Riley had already seen but different. 38 swung hard knocking the man out on contact causing him to fall in a heap blocking the door. Cobra stepped around him.

  “Clear,” Cobra said. “Let’s go.”

  Riley stepped through the doorway. The acrid smell of body fluids stung their nostrils. Shadows danced like puppets on strings playing tricks on her eyes. She pulled out her knife and started cutting away his binding. Mustang was on the other side of her snapping links of chain in half with bolt cutters.

  The man’s head bobbed forward. Blood was everywhere. She recalled her premonition. Thick chain and rope binding, the distinct aroma of blood, urine, and vomit. The smells of death, a low throaty growl in the dark and then she had a gut-wrenching revelation. A dog crawled from the shadows. The ridge on its back lifted. The dog’s muzzle pressed back into a snarl exposing white teeth and canines.

  “Shift,” Riley whispered.

  Cobra put his fingers to the man's neck feeling for a pulse, and that's when all hell broke loose. The man lurched off the chair ropes and chain fell snaking around his feet. Cobra jumped backward ready to fight, but both men stopped and held their ground. Still, locked-in the shadows and severely beaten to the point of being unrecognizable, Riley knew it was Eric, but Cobra didn't. Cobra had his weapon pointed at Eric.

  “No,” Riley said putting out her hand. Then the dog’s shadow appeared. The dog's spine hair rose. “Shift.” She said softly, but the dog didn’t respond. The dog stepped closer towards them snarling, saliva dripping from her mouth.

  Riley kept a watchful eye on the dog and the silhouette standing in front of the glow of the candle. The candlelight flickered nearing its end of life. 38 aimed his gun on the dog. Cobra kept the crosshairs of his weapon on Eric. When he turned towards her, the candlelight lit up his face. Riley felt a sickening split second of dread. Eric’s swollen and battered face seemed unrecognizable. Riley stepped in front of Cobra the tip of his gun pressing ever so slightly into her chest.

  “No.” She said. “Stand down.”

  Cobra let his weapon slide downward. 38 who was standing face-to-face with Shift locked into place. The dog growled making it clear no one was getting any closer to her master. Then Mustang sprang through the door tripped over Shift and into Riley. Riley felt her body swept out from under her feet as she fell backward; she cracked her head on the floor. There was a loud pop as stars sprayed in front of her eyes. The flickering candle floated away. She woke a few minutes later. Three faces stared her down, one of which was Eric’s.

  “Hey, sis.” He said through swollen lips. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Awe, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Riley said rubbing her fingers against her head. “Ouch. What the heck hit me a fricken semi?”

  “Me,” Mustang said.

  “No wonder. Geez, Mustang. And you,” she said to Eric. “You look like a 24-hour train wreck.” Shift kissed her cheek almost attempting to push into her arms. Her nose, wet and cold pressed against Riley’s warm skin. She licked her cheek and then nudged her in the shoulder as if telling Riley to get up.

  Cobra stepped off to the side closing them into the room. “We have Eric,” Cobra said across the radio.

  “Are you all right?” Eric asked her.

  "I should be asking you the same." Riley rolled to her side and started to stand. Several hands reached out to help her. "Kid, what happened? You look like you've gone through a giant blender."

  “Thanks, sis. They found humor in taking pop shots at me while I was tied up.” He murmured.

  “Before or after you tried to escape?” She asked.

  “Both.” Eric smiled looking down at her.

  Cobra slid his hand to the back of her head and felt a lump. “What day is it?”

  Riley looked at him precariously, “really. Out of all the questions, you ask me, what day is it? Everyone knows I can’t keep track of the days. Oh, I know. Ask me who the current p
resident is." She teased.

  “Yep, she’s okay.” He said into the mic.

  Eric moved towards her. The foul odor grew even stronger. She tried not to scrunch her nose up but she did, and he saw it.

  “Sorry.” He said. “That bad huh?”

  Riley shook her head. “That bad, Kid!” She used his old nickname given to him in high school and often did this when irritated with him.

  “Let’s get you out of here. The two of you can argue later.” Cobra handed Eric a headset.

  She could see he’d gotten the fact they’d all worried. It wasn’t the time or place to drill him or chastise him, but it was time to get everyone off the ship.

  “Did you find the kids?” He asked.

  She nodded. “They should be off the ship by now.”

  “We leave in five,” Cobra said peering out into the darkness of the corridor.

  Riley tossed Eric a gun and a handful of extra magazines. She saw the look of relief on Eric's face as he held the gun. "I’m getting my guns back before I go." He said aloud.

  Eric slid out the door. The smell followed him. Riley started to protest, but then she knew better. In the end, Eric would've made it off the boat. She knew that. Now she moved out with her team relieved to know Eric would be joining them.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Riley was eager to get off the ship. Between thick blackness and the only light shed by ghosts, the display of metals and steels were fifty shades too dark for her. She wanted fresh air and the view of the moon to ease her feeling of unrest. She followed Cobra, who was retracing his steps through the corridors. Riley smacked right into him when he stopped dead in his tracks, but this time, she kept her balance steadfast. Riley saw the small figure start to dart out.

  “Stop,” Cobra said.

  “There," Riley whispered. The child tried to hide herself in the darkness, but Riley had already seen her.

  "Relay." Cobra covered his flashlight so when he flicked it on it was a dim glow just enough to see. Riley moved in front of Cobra.

  “We’re here to help you," Riley said, but the girl shrank further into the wall. "We won't hurt you." Riley held her hand out to the girl when she felt the wind of another darting past her. The girl, stepping out into the dim glow of light and grabbed the escapee by the arm almost flinging him backward, and held him against her like a mother would a child. The girl wasn't so much a child but rather a teenager, but the boy was no more than 8.

  Cobra pulled the mic closer to his lips. “What’s happening Boss? We have kids on the lamb.”

  “Grab as many as you can. It’s time to go.”

  “Copy.”

  Cobra looked at Riley and the kids. “We’re heading for the exit.”

  “Two,” Cobra said.

  “Five,” Eric said from behind.

  “Should’ve smelled you coming,” Cobra said looking over at Eric.

  “Yeah, the accommodations suck here.” The kid beside Eric was holding his nose. Riley held back a grin.

  “Nice threads,” Cobra said. “Is that Old Spice I smell?”

  Eric chuckled. “The fact you recognized it, tells me a lot about you.”

  “Love the flannel shirt,” Riley said.

  “Right!” Eric turned to the kids. “Was there a young woman named Summer with you guys?”

  “No. But some of the kids never made it to where they were keeping us.”

  A soft clanking noise from down the corridor made them turn. Cobra turned off his light as footfalls moved down the hallway away from them. Without instruction, the kids formed a human chain clutching each other's hands for guidance. Riley felt the air freshen as Cobra and 38 led them towards the makeshift exit of the ship. From somewhere within the maze of corridors and internal space an explosion of gunfire rattled the ship causing it to tremble.

  “You woke up the monsters.” The boy said.

  “Not for long.” 38 said.

  Riley strained to look past the night to where the predawn light was trickling inward. The rising sun was finding its way through cracks and crevices of the ship’s battle wounds. Then Riley saw another shape of a shadow darting down a corridor. Identifying its shape was impossible due to the speed of its movement. The creature disappeared into the maze of ship and hallways. The speed and the outline suggested beast. A sick feeling grew in the pit of Riley’s stomach.

  Ryan and Sam stood at the exit urging children through the opening. Conman, on the other side, took kids to a bus. A driver wrote down names, counted heads and directed the kids to a seat where he would try to find homes to take them to.

  The sun began its ascent into the sky. A pale yellow charged with a dark orange hung over the mountains like the giant fireball it was. Still absorbing remnants of carbon monoxide and pollutants, the sky exploded in a palette of fire. In the not so far distance a flock of squawking seagulls made their way to the dock. No longer poisoned by the human food they searched for food God intended them to eat, food provided by the sea.

  The fresh air and open skies hit Riley with a rush. Lifting her face to the explosion in the heavens, she welcomed the rush of light slightly disappointed she'd be sleeping most of her day away. Behind them, a soft detonation rocked the Queen Mary. She knew Jack was taking care of business though she hated to see the great ship take on any more damage. Life was far more precious and preserving one over the other hardly seemed fair. The Queen Mary might see tourists again, but it would be some time from today.

  Conman guided the children while doing a head count as they stepped up into the bus the team had come in. Their worn and tattered clothing hung to their bodies grimy faces looked downward hiding teenage pimples and nappy hair. The kids, mostly girls, 12 to 16 years old, wanted to go home. Tear's speckled faces and others curled in infant positions warding off the experiences of the ship.

  “Take them home,” Jack said across the radio.

  “Affirmative. In transport.” Conman said.

  “Copy, be there in ten,” Jack answered.

  Riley took up a seat on a brick wall watching the bus drive away. She couldn’t help but think about the kids. They were safe for now. Either returned to family or found new homes. Her brother had become part of the rescue mission. Though, he should have waited for Jack. It ended well this time but maybe not the next. When Eric had left to heal after Shay's death, Riley had not been privy to his whereabouts, but Jack had.

  Riley wasn't looking for a fight. Battles happened every day and all around them. She tossed it around in her mind knowing Eric was stubborn and often acted without thinking. Riley knew he was protecting her. Eric could've died, but she decided to let it lay. This time around the jinx of premonition had helped her find Eric.

  “You okay Relay?” Mustang asked. Riley smiled at hearing her nickname.

  “Yeah, for having a brick wall hit me.” She said. “Jeeze Mustang what are you made out of steel or something?”

  Mustang smiled. “No, just good genes.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Decompression time.” He said.

  “Decompression time.” She answered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dragon had grabbed the girl and made his way past Candy’s demons onto land. A few of them followed crawling like sea creatures after him but once he’d gotten to his car they slithered their way back toward the ship. The ship was big and exits plentiful. He’d made a few for himself for occasions like these.

  The boss’s direct instructions were for Dragon to meet him in San Ramon if anything went wrong. That wasn’t going to happen. Dragon did not intend meeting with anyone. As far as anyone knew, he and the girl died in the explosion. A blast he'd been grateful for. They'd barely made it off the ship in time. The men lost tonight were not his men. Their weaknesses and irresponsibility landed them dead. Not his fault. This was a perfect illusion possibly freeing him from the strongholds of Rays control.

  The girl stirred beside him. She moaned softly and then shifted. Long strands of brown hair slipped ov
er her face covering her eyes. Now, she looked her age. She appeared innocent and angelic until she awoke.

  When the girl opened her eyes, she'd caught Dragon staring. Her gaze darted to the road and then back at him. He guided the Viper with ease through narrow streets keeping away from the highway. In front of them a maze of disabled objects and debris. She pressed back into her seat seeing the roadblocks ahead. Instead, he slid the car to the side drifting past one object at a time. As they slowed, she pushed toward the door, her back pressed into the panels. The seat belt he'd placed over her brushed against her face forcing her to sit at an awkward angle.