Chief Distraction Read online

  “Wait what out? What are those men doing here?”

  Mak stopped and turned around, letting her catch her breath. She placed her hands on her hips, her chest heaving. He looked at her shoes and internally cursed the fashion industry. They were so impractical even if they did make her toned legs stretch on for eternity. “My guess is they’re hiding something – something worth killing randomly for. Obviously something illegal.”

  Blythe straightened. “Like drugs?”

  “Could be. Or guns. Wouldn’t be the first time Hawaii was used as a stopping point for smuggling weapons. Hell, the harbor on the other side of this island’s called Smuggler’s Cove for that very reason. This kind of thing has been going on for centuries.”

  “And we’re caught in the middle of it,” Blythe said softly. “That’s a much more important story to tell. If we make it off this island, I’m going to expose them and put an end to this senseless…”

  “Easy, Blythe,” Mak shook his head. “First of all, we will get off this island. I’ll make sure that happens. Second, I don’t want you thinking like a reporter right now. I want you thinking like a survivor, am I clear?”

  She nodded silently. “I’ve always been on the other side of the story, the impartial observer. This is new for me.”

  “Well, welcome to your own life or death situation.” Mak hoped he didn’t sound too abrupt. “Let’s keep moving.”

  <><><>

  The inclined walk on rough terrain seemed endless. Blythe’s thighs protested the steepness of the path. Every fiber of her physical being screamed ‘STOP’, but her mind willed her onward and away from harm. Each step she took was agony, the blisters ripping the tender skin on her heels and toes. Her lips were dry from the unforgiving sun and her breath grew shallow at the heightened altitude as her chest burned with acid and fatigue. At times, Mak’s pace was too fast and she fell behind, feeling at once vulnerable and exposed. Despite her discomfort, she quickened her pace to keep up, desperate for his safety. She truly needed him out here, whether she’d admit it aloud was something else entirely.

  The path grew steeper still as they trudged onward. She grew dizzy, the sun blazing down on the crown of her uncovered head. The path inclined sharply and Mak climbed it effortlessly. Blythe swore and stopped on the spot, her hands on her knees as she bent in exhaustion. It was all too much.

  “Wait,” she panted.

  Mak stopped and faced her. “Lets take a break,” he said, finally noticing her struggles.

  The words were music to her ears.

  “Here, have a seat,” he pointed to a flat rock.

  She hesitated, looking back on how far they’d travelled. In the distant horizon, she noticed the sun had begun a sleepy descent, the vibrant blue hues of the day fading into golden orange tones. “Is it safe to stop?”

  “For a minute. We’re almost there.”

  “Almost where?” Sitting, she pulled off her sandal to inspect the carnage. The tropical breeze picked up, stinging the exposed blister and making her wince.

  Mak placed his hands on his hips and nodded up ahead. “We have to stay on higher ground and keep our distance from the dock,” he said before looking at her foot. “That looks pretty bad. We need water and first aid. Only one place for that.”

  “Where?”

  “Other side.”

  “Other side of the island?” Blythe gaped. “That’s miles away.” She inspected her foot with dread. “How far are we talking?”

  Mak leaned back slightly and looked into the distance, assessing. “Far.”

  “I thought you said we were almost there! How far, I need to know what I’m in for.”

  “About five miles. We’ve already walked around two miles”

  “Yeah, uphill,” Blythe sighed.

  “We have to reach that old military base camp on the western end. There’s not much left of it now, but it’s shelter. And there’s a CB in one building. It still functioned last time I was on this island. It’s our only hope of calling for help.”

  “What about your rescue boat? It’ll have first aid and a CB, right?”

  “And it’s currently surrounded by men with guns, remember?”

  Blythe stayed mute.

  “I’m sorry, Blythe. I know this is upsetting.”

  Blythe pushed her damp hair back off her forehead. She felt like a wilted flower about to shrivel up and blow away in the breeze. And then something donned on her. “Wait, won’t the men know about that military camp too? What if we get there and find even more men with guns waiting for us?”

  Mak stood statue still, his eyes searching hers. “That’s the chance I’m willing to take. It’s either find out or sit still. And I’m never one to sit still.”

  “But isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, we could hide down in one of those deep gullies.” Blythe pointed toward the distant shore.

  “And wait for them to find us? Not a chance. I have to try to get help before I do that.”

  “Or blow up on the way there,” Blythe’s voice was defiant. “Seriously, Mak, it’s a huge risk.”

  “We have nothing to lose. That’s the plan and we’re sticking to it.”

  <><><>

  Blythe was right. Mak knew going to the other side of the island was a huge risk, but he would do everything in his power to keep them safe. Keep her safe. “The live ordnance are strewn mainly around the waterline and most have accumulated in the areas off the beaten path. If we stay on track we’ll be fine.”

  “What kind of ordnance are we talking about? Just so I know how I’m going to die.”

  Mak smirked at her sarcasm. “You sure are thorough with your fact checking. Just bombs and stuff, don’t worry about it.”

  “Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Blythe pressed.

  “Lets go,” Mak avoided the question. He knew mentioning the decades worth of artillery shells, mortar rounds, landmines, personnel explosive devices, and rockets might freak her out just a tad. Not to mention the deactivated World War II drop bombs that had been found over the last few years. It was best not to mention them.

  He could tell she was living in a surreal cloud. Hell, he had to admit he was too. Sure he’d been in plenty of life or death rescue scenarios throughout his career, but never one that involved foreign thugs with guns wanting to take him out. The dangers he’d previously faced involved fire – an element he’d become all too familiar with, could almost predict and respect. There was a set of rules to a fire’s behavior that he understood and even manipulated in his favor. Murderers with guns? How could he possibly predict their actions, thoughts, or motives? The erratic behavior of madmen on a mission to hide something so sinister, so top secret that they are willing to kill for it? He just couldn’t comprehend that.

  <><><>

  Slipping on her shoe, Blythe rose from the rock and pressed onward, passing Mak. As she did, she brushed against him as the path narrowed. Feeling more defeated than ever, as if all hope had drained out with her perspiration, she hadn’t even registered their contact. Fatigue set in as the image of Lou’s body falling backward, awkwardly sprawled, reminded her of the seriousness of their plight. Blythe lost some of the composure she’d so dearly fought to maintain while Mak’s calm demeanor suddenly innerved her to no end.

  She swiveled back to face him. “Why the hell did this have to happen? And how can you be so, so…easygoing about it all? I’m not ready to die yet, thanks.” Blythe brought her fingers to her forehead. She closed her eyes as a throbbing pain took residence at her temples.

  “A headache is the first sign of dehydration. We have to find a rainwater cistern. It rained here less than a week ago, which is rare since this island sits in the rain shadow of West Maui. We may be in luck if the cistern’s full.”

  Blythe gulped back air, her hopes rising from his promise of liquid relief soon. She’d never experienced this kind of parched dehydration before. She was on the verge of fainting, but her gripping fear canceled all basic necessities.

&nbs
p; “A headache is the least of my worries right now. We’re sharing the island with murderers, remember?”

  “Listen, we stay out of sight and avoid them at all cost. They’ll leave eventually. It’s not like they’re living here.”

  Blythe ignored his assurances. “I can’t believe I’m stuck on this damn island. What I wouldn’t give to turn back time. And to think I was going to cancel.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed and Blythe took her cue, biting her tongue.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally broke the charged tension between them after fifteen minutes of silent walking. “I guess I’m just scared, not to mention thirsty. Something like this has never happened to me before. I feel helpless.”

  “We’ll get some water soon and do everything we can to avoid those men. Please trust me,” Mak practically begged.

  The numbing ache in her head receded slightly as she stared into his unwavering eyes. She mulled over the word trust. This man was asking her to trust him when she would do anything in her power to avoid telling him her truth. And there it was…that festering guilt again, keeping company with her fears and a throbbing headache. Blythe had officially arrived in hell.

  <><><>

  “The contact’s been in touch with the barge and will be there soon to load our shipment. They should be here by powerboat in three hours if all goes well,” Roland informed the others.

  “Three hours? What in God’s name are we supposed to do for three hours?” Sanders groaned.

  “What I told you to do earlier,” Blunt said through gritted teeth. “Find those two and eliminate them. I’m counting on you, Sanders. Don’t let me down. How hard can if be? I thought you were experienced in this sort of thing.”

  Sanders threw him a scowl. “Did you see me take down that huge camera guy earlier or did you miss it?”

  Blunt squared himself with Sanders, his look intimidating. He knew he could outsmart the likes of muscle-head Sanders any day and Sanders knew it too and kept quiet.

  “If we can stay calm and avoid careless mistakes, you’ll all get paid. Anything goes wrong and I may reconsider your cuts.” Blunt turned to Pax. “Any more details?”

  “Nothing. Wood isn’t answering.”

  “Keep me posted.” Blunt turned to Sanders again. “So get going. Find them.”

  “Easier said than done. We tried already and didn’t see anything.”

  “You were only gone ten minutes,” Blunt barked. “I mean go find them and don’t come back ‘til you do. Like Pax said, you’ve got three hours. Make it happen.”

  “What’ll I get if I do?” Sanders fished.

  “I won’t kill you. How’s that?” Blunt needed Sanders bronze and knew sacrificing him was out of the question, even if the threat was handy. “And keep an eye on your friend.”

  Roland sneered and puffed up his chest. “I don’t need a babysitter, thanks.”

  “Well maybe Sanders does, Roland, ever think of that? You’re easily expendable too so watch your mouth.” Blunt noticed Roland quicken his pace to search the surrounding area. All bark and no bite. It was too easy.

  With a machine gun slung around his shoulder, Pax pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and unfolded it. He checked the photo of their contact on his phone to cross-reference his data. “This guy’s reliable. Don’t worry.”

  “Say that after the exchange. Until then, I’ll worry.”

  “Think we should have more men with us?” Pax gawked around, worried. The sudden departure of Sanders and Roland left him feeling vulnerable.

  “Maybe. Can’t worry about that now. You and me, we’re the brawn and the brains of this operation. Sanders is just brawn and Roland’s just a brain – albeit limited to one area. But with a gun, he’s got a little more back.”

  “A little.” Pax searched his phone. “Wood has five men with him. The stats are here.”

  “No matter. We have the cash. They kill us, the cash flow stops. It’s our leverage.”

  “If you say so, but I hardly like those stakes. I trust no one.”

  “Suit yourself, Pax. I trust in currency. Money speaks volumes.”

  “Hey, money’s the reason why I’m doing this.”

  “And here I thought you were doing it for loyalty. Every man for himself, right?” Blunt said dryly.

  Meanwhile, Roland stumbled behind Sanders like a clumsy puppy. He was awkward and frustrated to no end. “This is pointless. We should get the shipment and leave, not worry about two people who’ve never even seen us,” he whined. He fought for patience when dealing with the thugs he’d been saddled with. He wondered now why he’d left his up-and-up day job for this. Was the money really worth the grief and risk?

  “Just shut your mouth and keep up. Don’t slow me down,” Sanders bullied.

  “But how do we know they went to the other side of the island?”

  “Because that’s where the military shelters are, duh,” Sanders’ voice seethed with annoyance. “Where the hell else would they go?”

  Roland could think of several alternatives. If he were on the run, he’d go to higher ground, get a vantage point. Or maybe stay close to the boat he’d arrived on if he didn’t know the place. And in this circumstance, stay close to the boat because he did know of the island’s many dangers. Walking this unchartered territory was a quick way to blow oneself up. The thought gave him hope. “Maybe they’ll get stupid and eliminate themselves, make our job easier.”

  “Hope not. I’m kinda lookin’ forward to taking them out. I’m in deep enough as it is, might as well go all the way,” Sanders said coldly.

  A ripple of panic traced up Roland’s back. He wore his regrets close to the surface.

  “Should only take a couple hours if we jog there and back. We can’t go back empty handed or Blunt’ll have our hides.”

  “Good point,” Roland agreed, a rarity when it came to Sanders.

  “So we keep moving. The faster we catch them, the faster we get back there to our cut of the deal.”

  And the faster I can leave this island and never see Sanders smug face again, thought Roland.

  Chapter Eleven

  Blythe debated whether getting mixed up with his curse was any worse than what they were presently going through. Watching Mak’s muscular back as he maneuvered the uneven terrain, a pang of regret jabbed her unexpectedly. Of all the men in the world, she was stuck on a deserted island running for her life with him. So maybe she was becoming a believer. It had to be fate. It was her destiny to be cursed right along with him because of what she’d written.

  The last thing she wanted was to tell him who she was. Why make him angry? Besides, she needed his protection, his survival skills. If she pissed him off, there was no telling what he might do. Maybe he’d leave her to fend for herself. She’d gotten them into this mess after all. If it weren’t for her reporting, they wouldn’t have come to this godforsaken island in the first place – and Lou would still be alive.

  The thought of Big Lou opened the floodgates, but Blythe tried to be discrete. She let a sniffle escape and Mak turned fluidly.

  “Are you hurt? Am I going to fast?”

  Blythe shook her head, brushing a tear away. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just thinking about Lou.”

  Mak reached out a hand. “Take it. I’ll help you along.”

  Blythe did as she was asked, her hand like a child’s in his. Their skin-on-skin contact gave her mental as well as physical strength and the sorrow she felt a mere moment ago melted into red-hot anger. “I wish I knew what those damn assholes are doing here,” Blythe fumed. Sensing Mak’s gaze, she looked up at him. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Mak smiled and turned back around as they walked. “I just didn’t expect cussing from such a pretty mouth. Guess there’s a tough girl in there somewhere.”

  Blythe gave a half smile at the compliment even though he couldn’t see it. “Guess so. Can we stop for a second,” Blythe let go of his hand and collapsed into the grass. “We’ve been walking fo
rever. I’m not as tough as you think.”

  She sat up, huffing in exhaustion and swiped perspiration away from her forehead with an arm. She ran her fingers through the grass, the last traces of the evening’s golden sunset still hot and unforgiving. Watching it fade to hot pink, Blythe yearned for her comfortable house, fluffy summer duvet, and deep tub. She wondered if she’d ever experience tranquility or a feeling of safety and serenity again. Her heightened anxiety was unsettling as she pulled at the hem of her skirt nervously.

  Was this the way her life would end?

  Sadness hovered in her mind making her throat tighten. The finality of their circumstance made her feel helpless; she wasn’t ready to die yet. There was so much she still wanted to achieve and she wasn’t referring to her career, not in the least. It was love. Love and children and joy still lay ahead, so close she could taste it. She yearned for those things.

  Mak took a seat beside her, propping his forearms on bent knees. They faced the ocean as the sun descended on the horizon like a glowing fireball.

  “It’s so beautiful. And to think Rachel and I were sitting like this, staring out at the ocean only a few days ago. I miss her, and…” Blythe felt a surge of emotion. Would she ever see her baby sister again?

  “You don’t visit her often, do you.”

  “Not enough. She’s thinking of moving here, though. Jarrod told me that he’s planning to propose and I’ll miss her wedding if I die on this island. She’ll make such a beautiful bride.” She swiped her cheek, the tears streaming down uncontrollably now. She found it amazing how many tears she could muster even though she was clearly dehydrated. The human body had unwavering capabilities in times of stress. This was definitely one of them.

  “Your sister’s almost as beautiful as you are. I bet you guys have to beat men off with a stick.” He smiled wryly before turning away again. Blythe’s stomach caught at the unexpected compliment. She could tell he was trying to distract her, but even still, she couldn’t deny the flutter in her tummy. Butterflies. He was trying to bring her out of her sorrow and she appreciated it, even if it wasn’t working.