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  Nate glared his disapproval and nearly dropped his assault rifle. “You stopped to pick flowers?”

  “I just love him to death,” Indy announced.

  “I hardly stopped--” Harlan retorted, displaying his annoyance. He removed a remote control from his pocket and flashed it to his men. “Ready to blow this joint?”

  Flynn grinned while appearing pleased and arrogantly cocked his head to the side. “On your mark.”

  Harlan smirked slyly. “Mark--” He pressed the remote control button.

  The other three ducked with anticipation of the explosion while Harlan remained casually standing. Nothing happened. All four looked at the intact compound with shared confusion.

  “What the hell--?” Flynn launched.

  Harlan stared at the remote control and appeared stunned. “That's never happened to me before.”

  Jackson casually placed his hand on Harlan’s shoulder, gave him a mocking sympathetic look, and patted him. “Happens to all men eventually.”

  Harlan pressed the button several times with increasing anxiety. Nothing happened. The sound of faint gunfire was heard behind them. Nate suddenly went down. The other three dived to the ground and took shelter behind a stone fountain. They looked around with surprise.

  “The rest of his men are already here,” Flynn cried out. “It's a trap! We were set up!”

  Nate moved to his knees, returning fire despite his bleeding shoulder, and took cover with them behind the fountain. He looked pissed more than injured.

  “In ten minutes, we're going to have fifty or more men to our rear waiting to shoot us in the ass!” Jackson announced boldly while shifting looks to Flynn as he fired back at the guards now flanking them.

  “We're pinned,” Flynn informed them and looked at his men. “Options?”

  Nate, who practically ignored his injury, looked at Flynn with all seriousness and cast a glance at the bound, hooded man lying on the ground taking shelter from the gunfire.

  “Use the prisoner as a human shield,” Nate casually suggested.

  “The explosives can be detonated manually,” Harlan informed Flynn. “Small weapons fire--”

  Flynn glared at Harlan with disapproval. “You'd have to be too close for that to work,” he remarked expressing his annoyance. “That's a one-way trip. No one's going back in there.”

  Jackson took a shot to his upper arm. He moved the assault rifle to his left hand and resumed firing. Harlan looked from both injured men to Flynn and offered a tiny, knowing smile.

  “Tell my girl I love her,” Harlan announced. Without warning, he fired into the trees, popped up from the safety of the stone fountain, and ran for the compound, avoiding the barrage of bullets on his heels.

  As he disappeared into the compound, Flynn could only watch with horror.

  “That crazy son-of-a-bitch!”

  Chapter Three

  A guard stormed down the broad mansion staircase with his assault rifle locked and loaded. The sound of gunfire could be heard coming from the back castle grounds, which had alerted more guards to the location of the perimeter breach. The armed guard reached the bottom of the stairs and ran for the main, outer doors. As he passed the darkened sitting room doorway, he was struck in the face with the butt of an assault rifle. The guard didn’t even have time to gasp as he dropped to the floor. Harlan caught the man’s weapon before it could strike the floor, preventing it from making a loud and distinctive clatter. The last thing Harlan needed was more guards alerted to his presence within the mansion itself. He looked at the motionless man on the floor by his feet.

  “Pardon me.”

  Harlan slung the guard’s assault rifle over his shoulder, hurried past the fallen man, and headed up the broad, marble staircase, taking two steps at a time. The sound of guards thundering along the second floor hallway could be heard. Harlan slung his own rifle over his shoulder, leaped over the railing, and clung to it on the outer side just out of sight. Two guards hurried down the stairs, unaware of his presence. Harlan leaped back over the railing feet first and struck the first man, who flew into the second man, knocking him off his feet as well. Both men tumbled down the stairs, making more noise than acceptable. Harlan continued up the stairs in more of a hurry now. As he reached the top of the stairs, more men were heard thumping along the hallway. Harlan appeared annoyed by the continual setback, preventing him from keeping his date with the elusive bomb. He darted into a nearby bedroom. As three guards appeared, one paused by the partially open bedroom door that now swayed slightly, indicating someone might have entered. The guard assessed the situation, raised his assault rifle, and slowly pushed the door open. He silently entered the nearly dark room.

  †

  Within the back garden, not far from what should have been their exit, Flynn, Nate, and Jackson continued to fire at the guards entering through their escape route. The stone fountain offered them little shelter from the barrage of bullets now being fired at them. A bullet whizzed past Flynn, narrowly avoiding him, but found its way into Jackson. Jackson was thrown to the ground and writhed in agony. Flynn caught of glimpse of his man going down, but before he could even react, it was soon obvious Jackson wasn’t the only man down. Nate lie motionless on the ground not far from Jackson, his condition unknown. Flynn fired into the back entrance with more conviction, obviously angered by his men being shot. A bullet penetrated his shoulder and another found his leg, taking him to the ground. His assault rifle flew from his hand and landed several feet away.

  Flynn clutched his bleeding shoulder and took a moment to endure the excruciating pain. He reached for the pistol on his hip, grinding his teeth to the enormous pain surging through his body. Guards were heard approaching from the back entrance and more appeared from the west wing of the mansion. Flynn clutched his pistol close to his chest and remained perfectly still while listening to the guards’ approach. It wouldn’t be much of a last stand, but he would take the first man with him. As their footfalls and the clattering of their weapons were heard closing in, a tremendous explosion shook the compound and the very ground beneath Flynn. The entire west wing was torn apart and completely leveled to the ground. Flynn rolled onto his belly and shielded his head, awaiting the usual aftermath of falling debris. The sheer force of the explosion, along with stone from the wall, brutally tossed the standing men several yards through the air, leaving the entire courtyard filled with a large cloud of dust and debris. As the dust settled, the fountain remained standing within a pile of rubble. Alongside the fountain lie Flynn’s motionless body beneath the ruins, blood soaking his chest and shoulder.

  “This is going to be the best Christmas ever,” Indy announced. “I can’t wait to see my father and the guys again.”

  †

  Indy stood in the Stryker house foyer with her friends and Liz while all five indulged in a second glass of eggnog. It was possibly the first Christmas since her mother died that it actually felt like Christmas to Indy. She leaned against the banister with her glass of eggnog and remained entertained by her own fantasies despite the comedian show being presented by Roman. The others were laughing at him and having a good time. The strong eggnog may have been helping.

  “I remember this one Christmas party where the commander got so drunk--” Roman began and was cut short by the ringing foyer phone.

  Indy hurried past him to the phone on the nearby hall table. She picked up the cordless phone and tried to contain her overly enthusiastic good mood.

  “Striker residence,” she announced into the phone. Indy listened to the voice on the other end and responded, “Yes, this is Indy Stryker.”

  Indy hesitated as she listened to the voice on the other end. Horror swept over her. She could feel her legs turn weak as all blood drained from her face. Her glass of eggnog slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. The others jumped with surprise, fell silent, and stared at Indy on the phone.

  “What?” she suddenly gasped and fought her tears. “Is he okay?”

>   The four stared at Indy in concerned anticipation to the phone conversation. Indy gasped and placed her hand to her mouth while fighting her tears. Roman hurried to her side and took the phone from her. Liz grabbed Indy around the shoulder and waist before she could collapse to the floor. The tears streaking her face were enough to cause panic among those within the room while Roman talked to the person on the phone. Liz clung to Indy, keeping her from falling, and stared at her with alarm.

  “Indy, what is it?” Liz gasped. The fear on her face conveyed that she already knew the answer.

  Indy suddenly sobbed and could barely get the words out. “Dad and his team--!”

  Chapter Four

  The cargo freighter, Mourning Liza, had seen better days. How the old, rusted vessel stayed afloat in the calm waters just off the coast of Panama was a mystery. Several weary looking crewmen in tattered clothing and scruffy beards meandered along the severely out-of-date deck. The sound of an approaching helicopter caught their attention, causing all five men to stop what they pretended to be doing and watch the sky. The military helicopter soon came into view as it approached, heading directly for the floating junkyard of a ship.

  Within the back of the helicopter, Liz and Indy looked at the ship in the near distance. Both stared with surprise at the sight as they approached.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Liz scoffed. “They’re onboard that monstrosity?”

  “Just stay calm and play nice,” Indy informed her. “We don’t want to upset the natives.”

  The helicopter lowered onto a small clearing on deck. Liz appeared apprehensive as the pilot shut down the helicopter and cast a glance at him.

  “Maybe we should keep the chopper running,” Liz remarked to the pilot.

  He didn’t respond. Indy opened the back door and climbed out, forcing Liz to follow, although she was in less of a hurry as the ambitious, young woman. The five scruffy crewmen eyed the two women with hard to read expressions. Liz grabbed Indy’s arm while staring back at the frightening men.

  “My God,” she gasped softly. “They’re going to marinade and roast us.”

  “Doubtful,” Indy replied with little emotion and lacked Liz’s concern for their situation.

  Liz suddenly gasped and squeezed Indy’s arm to the point of physically hurting her. “You mean they intend to use us as sex toys?”

  Before Indy could respond to Liz’s comment, several men dressed in black combat gear appeared from all ends with assault rifles aimed at them. Liz screamed and ducked behind Indy. Indy didn’t even twitch.

  “I’m Indy Stryker,” she announced in a firm, authoritative tone. “I demand to see my father!”

  The armed men lowered their weapons simultaneously, and the man in charge approached.

  “Miss Stryker, sorry about the unwelcoming greeting,” he announced. “We only just learned of you arrival an hour ago. We had to confirm it was you. You understand.”

  “Of course,” she replied and released a shaken breath. “Please, just take me to my father.”

  “This way,” he announced and extended his hand toward the rickety, rusted door.

  Liz clung to Indy’s arm as they crossed the deck toward the doorway. As they passed the downtrodden seamen, it became obvious they were much younger men in disguise. Although Indy had a good idea of what to expect arriving on the cleverly disguised military ship, she couldn’t deny its impressive cover story. As they entered the ship’s interior, it became apparent that the ship was well maintained and probably no more than a few years old. The further they descended into the ship’s interior, the more sophisticated the technology became. They passed two armed guards standing before the open infirmary door. A man clearly of South American descent lie on a padded exam table with his wrists cuffed to either side, and his ankles were chained to the lower end. The man was in his forties and appeared visually regal, possibly a man of great wealth. Liz glanced into the room and stared at the man with surprise, possibly due to his restrained condition.

  “Who’s that?” Liz suddenly muttered to Indy, although loud enough to catch the guard’s attention.

  One of the guards closed the door without response. Indy didn’t even take notice to the man within the infirmary.

  “That’s classified,” the soldier leading them announced, void of emotion.

  They approached a room just down the corridor. The soldier opened the door and stood aside, allowing them to enter. Flynn lie in his hospital bed with tubes in his arm and monitors surrounding him. Indy and Liz entered the room and stared with shared concern. Flynn slowly opened his eyes and smiled warmly. Indy ran to his bedside and hugged him while sobbing. He held her and managed a tiny grin.

  “Now stop that. I'm far from dead.”

  Indy pulled away and attempted to control her emotions, allowing Liz the opportunity to hug and kiss him as well. Flynn stared at them.

  “How on earth did you two find us?” Flynn asked with an expression resembling humor.

  “You have no shortage of military friends willing to divulge sensitive, classified information to your daughter,” Indy announced while wiping her tears.

  “You didn’t have to fly all the way out here,” he informed both women. “I’m fine, really.”

  “What happened, Dad?” she asked gently.

  Flynn casually shrugged then groaned, regretting the action by the pain it seemed to cause him. “We overstayed our welcome, that's all.”

  “That's all?” Liz suddenly erupted.

  He looked at the attractive woman and smiled gently. “I'd rather not give details. It just upsets Indy.”

  “What about the guys?” Indy asked while sniffing and wiping her tears with trembling hands. “Are they okay?”

  Flynn stared at her a moment then quickly attempted to cover for his strange look, but his shattered expression told a different, chilling story.

  “Jackson and Nate are their usual, charming selves,” he informed her while trying to sound positive. “They'll have a few new scars to tell wildly inaccurate stories about.”

  Indy knew something was wrong and stared at her father with concern. “What about Harlan?”

  Flynn appeared uncomfortable and avoided looking at her. For a moment, he appeared to choke up. Indy felt her heart sink in her chest as her entire body twitched.

  “Daddy, what about Harlan?” she gasped softly.

  Flynn still didn’t look at her and held back his sobs. Seeing tears come to her hardened father’s eyes was almost unbearable. She’d only seen him cry once--when her mother died.

  “They, uh, they don't think he's going to make it,” he announced, his voice cracking. “He's, uh, in a coma.”

  Indy’s expression shattered to the news. “No--”

  A thousand memories of Harlan rushed through her subconscious. He’d been a major part of her life for as long as she could remember. The news was at best devastating. Liz clung to Flynn's hand and attempted to comfort him. Indy held back her tears, but it wasn’t easy.

  “What, uh, what happened?” Indy asked.

  “We were ambushed,” Flynn replied softly. “They somehow blocked the signal to his explosives, so the stupid bastard went back inside to manually detonate it. He had to get close enough for a small caliber bullet to hit it in exactly the right spot.” The tears now flowed, and he was unable to stop them. “He gave his life to save ours.”

  Liz held Flynn, but he didn’t respond well to being comforted in his emotional state. Liz took her cue and released him. He attempted a tough front but failed.

  “We, uh, caught the remaining enemy by surprise when the compound blew and took them out,” he announced in a quivering voice. “I went back for Harlan. He knew exactly where to position himself to avoid most of the blast, which kept him from going down with the building. He, uh, came to for only a second.”

  “Did he say anything?” Indy asked gently.

  “He was disoriented,” Flynn replied softly and sighed. “He just said ‘Liz’.”


  Liz stared at Flynn with some surprise and nearly gasped. “He said my name?”

  “I told you, he was disoriented.”

  Indy could barely control her trembling body. “Will they let me see him?” she asked gently.

  “I don't think so, honey,” Flynn replied softly. “He's in pretty bad shape. He's been in a coma since we pulled him out. If he stabilizes, they'll send him back to the states with us.” Flynn then looked at Liz. “The guys and I decided we're going to stay as long as possible to be with him. I hope you understand.”

  “Yes, of course,” Liz replied while clutching his hand then looked back at Indy. “We understand, don't--?”

  Indy was gone.

  Chapter Five

  The male medic left the room marked ICU. Before the door even closed, Indy slipped into the room and quietly shut the door behind her. She looked across the room and saw what appeared to be Harlan in the hospital bed with tubes, monitors, and a respirator. His head was wrapped and both his lower arms and his left leg were in casts. Several scrapes and burns could be seen on what little parts of his body that remained exposed. Indy stared in horror at the man she once knew. She held back her sobs and slowly approached his bed. He didn’t look like the man she remembered. He looked frail and only a shell of his former self. She touched his fingers that were sticking out from beyond the cast and stared at his scraped, bruised, and slightly scorched face. Indy held back her sobs, touched his face, and gently kissed the small portion of his forehead without bandages on it.

  “Please don't leave, Harlan,” she whispered softly with a quiver in her voice. “It'll kill the commander--and me too. I love you.” She drew a deep breath while staring at him. “I just don't want to never have said that.”

  The door was heard opening, startling her. She knew she was going to be in trouble for secretly entering ICU. Indy sniffed and wiped her tears. It was going to take a lot of strength to contain her anger at the medic once he started yelling at her.