DANGEROUS MERGERS
Chapter Two
Stephanie's consciousness returned in small increments, but it was the rough sheets scraping beneath her body and an unbearable thirst that drew her awake. She stretched her arms and legs, seeking to find a more comfortable position and hoping to find some warm mocha skin at the same time. Damn, she and Ranger must have been extra creative last night in their lovemaking: her whole body ached!
She coaxed her eyes open, slow, one at a time then closed them both, quick and tight. The light was blinding. Hospital, she thought, I must be in a hospital. Memory flooded back, jolting her to a sitting position, her eyes squinting, her head pounding. Oh God, the plane, the parachute, Ranger…where was Ranger?
Stephanie moved her head from side to side, forcing herself to scan the area around her despite the pain in her neck. She wasn't in a hospital; she was on a beach, alone. She looked down and realized that the coarse sheets were sand, not fine Egyptian cotton. She stared out over the horizon and realized her thirst must have derived from spending time in the ocean. How much time? Her vision cleared and she swept her eyes over the area again. Yep, she was alone; there wasn't even a seagull on the beach or flying overhead. Where in the hell was she? And Ranger, what had happened to him? Had he made it out of the plane?
Tears formed in her eyes. "No… no … no!" She pounded her fists into the sand, denting it deeper and deeper with each no. "He got out… somehow." Stephanie caught a glimpse of the sun's reflection off her wedding ring and stopped. Now was not the time to fall apart, now was the time to be Stephanie Manoso. She pulled in a deep breath of courage and dragged herself to her feet, getting tangled in the cords of her chute as she stood. She kicked at the loose silk pooled at her feet in frustration and then remembered what Ranger had told her: to keep the pack with her; it had a tracker in it. Someone would find her, but until they did, she was on her own.
She raised her arm to shield her eyes from the burning sun. She winced at the pain that shot through her arm and back. She glanced down at her body and gasped. She looked like a boiled lobster that had been cracked and ready to serve. The sea and sun had done its work, turning her into what resembled a well-cooked crustacean. Every bit of porcelain skin she could see had been burned bright red, and the ocean's salt had opened painful cracks in it. She was going to have to find help soon or she was going to be faced with the possibility of a raging infection.
Just how long had she been in the ocean? Stephanie had no conscious memory of time. She remembered falling through the sky, hitting the water with a hard slap of reality, figurative and literal; she remembered swimming and treading water for what seemed like forever. She remembered growing tired, then more tired, then… nothing. She must have fallen asleep and drifted ashore. It was a wonder she hadn't drowned.
She removed the pack from her shoulders and contemplated how to disengage the chute from it. Ranger had said she needed to keep the pack with her, not the chute. She worried about the tracker being waterproof. Of course it was, she told herself. It was a piece of RangeMan equipment, and Ranger made sure that every contingency was covered. She opened the pack and sorted through the essential items of survival. Yep, everything was dry.
Her eyes clouded with tears and she dropped back down onto the sand. "Get it together, woman, you can do this. Just don't give up." She began severing the cords from the pack. When the last cord came free, she stuffed the knife back inside the pack. "Now, onto problem number two."
Picking herself up, she gathered in the billowing chute by wrapping the loose folds of silk around her body. There, at least she'd have some protection from the sun. She stood and wiped the tears from her face. She could do this, she would find someone who could help her with her immediate needs, then help her find Ranger. She had to believe he was still alive. Any other possibility was too cruel to consider.
oOoOo
Ranger woke on another beach, a beach unlike Stephanie's. From his view, he could see high-rise buildings in the distance and the sounds of civilization all around him.
He pushed himself into a seated position while he scanned his surroundings. The sky was still a murky gray, just at dawn, about five in the morning, he judged. He figured he'd been in the water for about eight hours. Taking stock, he considered himself in decent shape. His skin was waterlogged and salt-eaten, and thirst burned his throat, but otherwise he was unharmed.
He opened his waterproof pack, withdrew a knife - its edge so sharp the sun reflected off the edge of the blade - and sliced the chute cords from the pack. Digging with his hands, he scooped out large quantities of wet sand, and soon he had a hole deep enough to bury the chute. It wouldn't stay hidden for long. The first high tide would expose it, but he'd be long gone by then.
Ranger stood and scanned his surroundings, hoping to find Stephanie. Where the hell was she? He scanned the skyline, again. Miami? Ranger kept the knife in his hand and picked up his back then began moving up the beach toward the buildings on its perimeter. Before he reached it halfway, two men came out from the back entrance of one of the buildings. One of them pointed at him and yelled something, and then both began advancing in his direction.
Ranger stopped and dropped his pack then planted his feet in the sand, shoulder width apart, his fingers playing around the hilt of the knife. He steadied his weakened body while he waited for the men to reach him and the fight they appeared to be bringing his way.
oOoOo
Fatigue overtook Stephanie and her entire body ached. The only thing that kept her from dropping to the ground in defeat was the sight of some sort of house in the distance.
As she got closer, she saw a man and a woman working in what appeared to be a garden. She was infused her with new energy. "Hey!" She waved her arms in all directions, trying to attract their attention. "Hey! Hello! Over here!"
When they turned to stare at her, she could feel their fear even from the distance. She knew she looked bad, but was she that scary? Her hand flew to her hair, her fingers unable to penetrate the knotted mass of curls. Well, maybe she could.
The man said something to the woman, then made a gesture in the direction of what Stephanie thought was their house. The structure was small and in bad need of repair and she could tell that their clothes were old and worn. She stopped and stood still, not wanting to alarm them anymore than she had already; right now they were her only hope.
She watched as the man walked towards her, his steps slow and filled with caution. When he was no more than five feet away, he stopped and looked her over. She stared back. The man was Hispanic, perhaps her height, his skin a shade darker than Ranger's. The fierce look on the man's face surpassed even Ranger's meanest look.
Gulping, she tried out a tentative smile. "Hi! I'm Stephanie. I need help. I was in a plane crash. I don't know where I am. I need a phone. Will you help me, please?" She was talking so fast she wasn't sure if what she had said made any sense.
The continued man to stare at her, his eyes growing wide. "Madre de Dios! Pensamos que usted estaba tratando de llegar a la Florida por medio de un barco. Pero, usted es una Americana, ¿no?" He spoke in a hushed voice. (Mother of God! We thought you were trying to make it to Florida in a boat, but you're an American, aren't you?)
"Huh?" Stephanie felt the panic build inside her mind as she realized the man couldn't understand her. She'd spent enough time around Ranger to recognize Spanish when she heard it, but most of the words she'd managed to learn wouldn't fit this situation, the majority of her Spanish consisted of words whispered in the bedroom, between the sheets. Still, she knew a few words.
Somehow she had to find a way to communicate with him. She searched her mind for ways to do just that when she remembered playing charades as a child. She spread her arms out to her sides shoulder level and began to imitate a plane in flight, including the sound of the engine. She didn't care that she felt like she was five years old, she'd try anything to get this man to understand how desperate she needed help. She turned back to the man, and throwing her arms up, said "BOOM!" She used a portion of the silk parachute she still had draped around her to pantomime drifting down from the sky. She shrugged and said one of the few words she knew. "Aqui." (Here.)
The man continued to stare. His mouth had dropped open during her silent recitation. He thought, "Oh dear God! The government shot her plane down, and now she's seeking shelter. Why me? What have I done to deserve this?" He didn't know what he was going to do, he couldn't just turn his back on a woman who was injured, but if any of the neighbors saw him, he'd be turned in to the state police.
He made a quick decision and hurried his steps to get close enough to grasp her arm and pulled her toward the house, praying that no one else was awake and watching.
They were at the door when Stephanie stopped. "Where am I?" The man turned worried, confused eyes to her. Shit, he couldn't understand her. Think, Stephanie, think. What's the Spanish word for 'where'? "Donde? Donde?" Stephanie pointed around in a circle, trying to make him understand. It worked. The man pushed her inside the house, closing the door behind them. He gave her a one-word answer.
"Cuba."
Oh shit. She was in big trouble.
oOoOo
Ranger suppressed a smile when he overheard the two men talking as they approached him.
"Shit, another fucking boat person. Just what this city needs."
"Yup, like we don't have enough. This one was lucky. He made it to shore alive."
The first man sighed. "Suppose we ought to bring him inside, get him something to eat and drink. Jose can talk to him while we call the cops." The man moved his arm in a come on motion and said, "Come on, buddy. Welcome to America, land of the free, home of the brave."
Now, Ranger did smile. "Thanks, it's good to be back home. Do either of you have a phone?"
oOoOo
Hours later, Ranger paced his hotel room, worried and anxious. When he'd discovered he was indeed in Miami and had proved his identity from his sodden wallet, he'd booked a suite in the nearest hotel.
The police allowed him to remain free on the condition that he stayed in his hotel room until they could verify his story. That had been three hours ago: it shouldn't have taken that long to confirm his story. There was a guard outside the suite and the phone would only connect to the desk. He knew - he'd tried!
He had to find Stephanie. He needed to contact Tank. He needed to find out who had tried to kill them and why. He couldn't do any of that confined to a hotel room with no access to the outside world. Although there was one thing he didn't plan on doing and that was contacting anyone outside of his core team, not even his family. Until he knew who was behind the high-jacking of his plane and the attempted murder, everyone had to be considered a suspect.
He selected a piece of fruit from the arrangement on the coffee table when a sharp knock sounded on the door. Without waiting for a reply, the door swung open. Ranger's entire body tensed and then relaxed when the detective he'd meet with earlier stepped into the room.
Experienced eyes took in Ranger's stance. Yeah, Detective Lopez thought, Manoso was everything his file said he was. Despite his weakened condition, the man had been prepared to take him down. "Expecting trouble?"
Ranger shook his head. "No, I just want to find my wife."
Lopez nodded. "Well, seems there's a Detective Miller from the Las Vegas PD who's anxious to talk to you, and someone by the name of Tank is a… little upset that he hasn't been able to speak to you yet."
Ranger started to smile, but his blistered and cracked lips stopped him quick. Tank would be well beyond a 'little' upset by now. Rampage status would be more accurate.
"Your friend Tank is on his way here, should be landing within the hour, and since we've had an official request to detain you, Detective Miller is catching the next flight out. He should be here by morning."
"Any word on my wife?"
Lopez shook his head. "Sorry, no. We've spoken to the Coast Guard; they're going to do an aerial search. We're checking with all the coastal PD's for any word of a floater washing up." Seeing the anger break across Ranger's face, Lopez raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Relax, Manoso, you should know that's a term we use down here for the live ones too."
Ranger blew out a breath. "Yeah, I know. I'm just having a hard time sitting here doing nothing. I appreciate their efforts."
"Relax, eat something, you look like you could use about forty-eight hours of sleep. I've been asked to keep you company so why don't we trade war stories until your friend gets here?
Ranger narrowed his eyes at Lopez.
"Looks like you and I are gonna be best buds during this rescue mission." Lopez smiled.