Alpha, Delta Page 5

  The valve was easy to grab and Niall leaned into it. All he needed to do was turn it enough so the seal was broken. With the lack of oil running through the platform the pipes instead were holding back water pressure. This would work. He was sure of it. The valve moved a little, or was that just Niall’s wishful thinking? Then, using the metal bar as a pivot, he leaned with his bodyweight, abruptly wishing he were a lot bigger than he actually was, and it finally gave way.

  That was the first part done and he gave up trying to walk to the boat deck, instead near crawling on his hands and his knees, the metal pipe, twisted and buckled, pushed under one arm. He’d gone beyond just shivering, he was growing colder by the moment, his fingers numbing, and his head fuzzy.

  I’m going to tell Finn I love him, he thought. Over and over he thought the same thing, focused on surviving this, getting off the platform and telling the stubborn cop exactly what he thought of him.

  “I can’t love someone,” Finn had stated when they woke up in each other’s arms last week. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Fair on who?” Niall asked. “You? Me? Who the fuck would even know?” He was furious and he couldn’t help asking. He loved this man and all he wanted was commitment to go alongside the sex. Not forever, but an acknowledgment that Niall meant something to Finn other than just being there for only sex.

  The rain eased as Niall rounded the last wall before the boat deck and he lay on his stomach in the wet until he could see through the spray to what was below. There was no sign of Delta, no sign of Finn, and there was no one with a gun. He belly-slid forward until he could see over the edge of this part of the platform and despair hit him. There was a hijacker there, still in a guard’s uniform, just inside the door to the boat deck, staring out at the water with a rifle in his hand. He was sideways to Niall but that didn’t make it any easier. The valve was between Niall and the hijacker and Niall needed to get closer.

  Part of him wanted to check his phone, but hell if it would even be working if he did. Would any of these be any easier if he knew he had five minutes or ten? He crawled a little further to the right, the valve in his sight and the rain sheeting at full force as he moved out of the shelter of the overhanging deck. He reached it and hoped to hell no one was above him waiting to shoot him in the back of the head.

  What would Finn do?

  Utilising the bar he used his full body strength to attempt to move the second valve. As soon as it was open enough he needed to back the fuck off. The build up of pressure would angle down into the boat deck and the force of it would be enough to grab the hijacker and physically throw him to the ground. Or at least, that was what was in Niall’s head.

  The rain eased a little, an eerie silence that made Niall’s chest tighten. He would be seen. All the hijacker had to do was look up and to the right and that would be it, Niall would be dead and he would never have gotten the chance to say anything to Finn.

  I love you, I love you, he murmured to himself as he moved as slowly as he could to get his body weight behind this valve as well. Movement out of the corner of his eye and he swore he could see a boat in the stormy sea. The hijacker moved. Had he seen the same thing?

  Temper made Niall strong. He wasn’t going to let the Delta team down. He was getting them on this platform and he was fucking well going to make it home so he could pin Finn to the bed and force his lover to say how he felt.

  I love you, I love you… The valve creaked and groaned as Niall pushed but it was moving, and he saw the rifle point up at him at the very same moment the valve gave way. The force of its movement pulled him to one side and the pain as he slammed to the floor was enough to steal his breath. A spark, a sound, and he was being shot at, the bullet missing him by inches. He couldn’t move, the metal he’d used in the valve had pinned his sweater, curled into the thick mess of wool, and as much as he yanked he couldn’t get free. He was like one of those butterflies in a display case. Any second now he was dead.

  I love you.

  The pressure built underneath him; he could almost imagine the water pressing and forcing, gathering enormous strength until it blew. He struggled to get free, the sweater pulling, tearing, and he knew he had to get away as soon as he could. An explosion of air and water rocked the small part of the platform he was pinned to, metal wrenching under the force of it. Niall could hear screaming and knew it was himself.

  I love you.

  Chapter Six

  Finn adjusted his headset until he could get a clear reading on what the hell was going on. Cap laid it down, Niall was alive and he’d somehow managed to get communication out of Forseti. The storm snagged and threw the small boat, and he gripped hard as a sickening lurch had him cursing.

  “Fucking bitch,” Erik cursed from the front. He was cursing Mother Nature and her ability to literally pick this boat up and slam it down into the sea like it was nothing. Finn didn’t want to hear Erik’s cursing; he wanted intel. About assailants, firepower, hostages, but most of all he needed to know about Niall.

  Pride flooded him at the thought Niall had somehow eluded the hijackers and had contacted the station. He’d shown clear thinking in what must be a terrifying situation. Especially for an engineer more used to the fear of a failing superstructure than facing the end of a loaded weapon. Then that same fear insinuated itself inside Finn’s calm acceptance of the situation. This was nothing new. They were trained for this. They could get on the platform, become a formidable team against God knows who. But that was when they knew the parameters. This wasn’t the same.

  Svein wanted Delta with all the hate-filled focus of a thwarted bully, and he was using innocents to line up Delta in his sights.

  The boat surged upward on a swell and Erik guided it through as best he could. They were only a short distance from Forseti but the vast oil platform was even visible in the churning storm that was trying to kill them. To get on the platform would take no small amount of skill and Finn had to just sit there and accept that Erik knew his job.

  “Asked the engineer to create a diversion to drive the hijackers to boat deck,” Cap confirmed.

  Finn’s chest tightened. Erik glanced sideways at him; he’d heard the same message. A diversion to the boat dock meant this half of the Delta team had to come around the back, no soft landing. Not that they expected it. They were clearly moving to plan B.

  But what scared Finn the most was the casual way Cap had said the engineer was creating a diversion. Niall. They drew closer to Forseti, the superstructure rising like a goliath out of the sea, steel gray against the churning clouds. Erik guided the craft to the left, away from the boat deck, and when Finn looked up he could see the Puma wheeling above them. They would take the main fire, allow the boat to get a foothold somewhere on the metal rising from the sea. Under the platform the sea settled in a couple of places and the two men managed to get themselves off the boat and onto the structure itself. They were on unmoving land when an explosion from the boat deck had Finn scrabbling the rest of the way up to the deck.

  Niall was up there.

  When they reached the deck it was empty, a great pipe split at a valve, and metal peeled back like it was nothing more than paper. There was no sign of a hijacker and Finn signalled for Erik to cover him. If Niall was anywhere up here then Finn was finding him.

  He followed close to the gray walls and, staring through the rain, he attempted to make out anything except crooked pipes and chaos. Then he spotted what he assumed was one of the hijackers. It was difficult to tell because metal had sliced into his face and cut into skin. There was no blood, the sea had washed him clean, but he hung like a grotesque scarecrow and Finn couldn’t even think that Niall was here somewhere just as dead.

  Above them the Puma was backing off from fire. He could hear at least two weapons firing, and Delta returning fire. That would pull the focus from him and Erik; they had a chance of getting people off this place. Including Niall.

  White material caught his eye and he realised it was a
sweater. In seconds he was there, yanking at an unconscious Niall, cutting away the wool that had him caught and freeing him. He felt for a pulse. There was one, and just as Finn contemplated where he would be hiding Niall until this was all over, Niall opened his eyes.

  “Finn,” he choked.

  Finn didn’t have time to feel relieved. The rest of Delta was taking the heat and he and Erik had a mission. He glanced around at the mess of metal, something that Niall had done here had made things right for him and Erik.

  “You did good,” he said as he assisted Niall in getting up. “Can you stand?”

  Niall groaned and pushed himself to stand, taking a lot of his weight by himself. “I’m okay.” The crunch of glass had Niall looking down. On the ground lay Niall’s glasses, twisted with one lens shattered. He couldn’t look. What if that had been Niall?

  “You said one crew dead,” Finn repeated.

  “Jeff.” Niall nodded as he blinked water from his hazel eyes.

  Finn spoke into his comm. “I have one hostage alive. Confirmed one dead hijacker, one dead crew.”

  Niall is alive.

  Erik moved out, Niall behind him, Finn bringing up the rear. Niall appeared to get with the plan and didn’t for one minute drop behind. They made it as close to the accommodation module as they could then regrouped in silence. Erik gestured to indicate that there was a hijacker in sight and silently pulled out his knife.

  Finn held out a hand to stop Niall moving and counted down with Erik. When Erik moved it was stealthy but somehow the hijacker must have sensed something as he turned at the exact moment Erik was on top of him. A short scuffle later and the second hijacker was dead, sprawled with his throat cut.

  Erik held up two fingers. Two dead hijackers. Two to go.

  Finn faced Niall. “I need you to get inside the accommodation module, okay?” Niall looked like he was in shock and Finn stepped a little closer. “Can you do that? I need you inside where you can lock yourself in.”

  “What about the hijackers?”

  “The two left are occupied with the rest of Delta, you have to trust me? Can you do that?”

  Niall looked at him, shivering, his skin so pale, his eyes bloodshot and his glasses gone. He looked like death.

  “I can,” he finally said.

  “Then I need you to go find the rest of the crew and stay with them.” Finn kept his tone level, even when Niall gripped his jacket and opened his mouth to talk.

  “Find me, okay?” Niall said firmly. “Come find me.”

  Then, before Finn could say a word, Niall turned on his heel and hobbled in the opposite direction. He was cradling his arm, limping, but Finn hadn’t seen blood.

  “We’re taking fire,” Cap’s voice echoed in his head and he pulled himself out of the need to grab Niall and just leaving this place. Break the firing. Then memories of what he’s seen Svein do, of the bodies in Alta of fellow ERU members, of the laughter as he’d thrown himself off the dam like some kind of action movie cliché, assailed him. The guy was a killer and Delta needed to take him down.

  They continued onward and upward, covering each other as they took flight after flight toward the helideck. The ascension felt like it took an eternity. The other members of the Delta team were putting themselves in harm’s way in the Puma, drawing fire. Finn and Erik had to get up there and neutralise it so the Puma could land. An explosion sent shockwaves hard enough to have Finn stumbling back downstairs and a crash of twisted metal blocked his way.

  “Fuck, we’re blocked,” Erik shouted.

  They turned on their heels and went back the way they came. The only way up was to find the next corridor and approach the deck from another angle. Fire chased them and they ran in the opposite direction to where they’d been heading. They reached the last area before the alternative exit and skidded to a halt. Svein stood at the door facing them. And immobile, gripped by his throat, was Niall, a pistol at his temple. Svein had utter focus and determination on his face and there was an evil light in his eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Finn stopped in horror. In his head Niall was safe and he wasn’t held by a madman intent on killing. This was wrong.

  Erik had the presence of mind to make connections in his head that Finn couldn’t make. He cursed but didn’t stop and stare in shock. Instead he scrabbled back and away until only Finn stood in the face-off. They had to get the focus off the Puma and the rest of the team and that was Erik’s job now. Because Finn had to deal with Svein.

  “Put the guns down,” Svein said. If anything that made Finn grip the barrel of his Sig harder, and angle of his rifle just that little bit higher. Sven pressed the barrel of the pistol harder and Niall closed his eyes.

  Finn stepped closer, his gun still raised. He could take Svein in one shot but from this angle Niall would be collateral damage. Niall would be dead. Deltas didn’t let hostages die if they could stop it. But he wasn’t dropping his gun. In all the scenarios where he dropped his weapon he was dead in seconds and Niall would be as well.

  “You think I won’t kill him?” Svein said. His tone wasn’t threatening, more questioning. “Drop your weapons.”

  “What do you want?” Hijackers had agendas: the release of political prisoners or money being two of them. There had to be some kind of ground that Finn could give way on without Niall dying. Niall still has his eyes closed, his right arm cradled, and now Finn could see blood darkening the sleeve of his shirt and staining the skin at his wrist.

  Why didn’t he say he was bleeding?

  As if Niall had heard his thoughts he opened his hazel eyes and stared directly at Finn. There was fear in them, but also utter trust in the way he wasn’t panicking.

  Svein huffed a laugh. “I don’t want a thing. I want you. Simple. You and your team for killing me, you for missing my heart.”

  “Let the hostage go.” Don’t personalise the hostage, don’t show you love that man more than life itself.

  All the time they talked Finn calculated trajectories. He could shoot through Niall, but that would just catch Svein in the shoulder. He had to be calm and focused about this but seeing Niall gripped so tightly was messing with his focus. If he was going to shoot then he needed to be ready. He hoped to God whatever happened that Erik had somehow removed the last shooter from the platform so that the rest of the ERU could land and give backup. That was one less thing to have on his conscience.

  “I wasn’t aiming for your heart,” Finn said clearly. He wanted to engage Svein, try and explain something enough so that this all slowed down.

  “Fuck you,” Svein said then he smiled and Finn looked into pale silver eyes that held madness. “You think I don’t know who Niall Faulkner is? Warming your bed and making you slow, it was just a matter of time until Forseti was going to be your grave.”

  “I don’t know the hostage,” Finn lied. Then, like the decision was made for him, Niall slumped in Svein’s hold. Finn reacted on instinct and the bullet left his gun even as he moved. It carved through Niall’s arm, caught Svein low on his side, enough for Niall to fall, enough for Svein to curse and twist away. Finn was on Svein before he had a chance to regroup, using his bodyweight as a pivot and landing a punch to Svein’s face as he fell to a stop. They grappled and neither had the upper hand but Finn knew this was a fight of attrition. Sooner or later Svein would tire as he lost blood and Finn would take his advantage.

  He couldn’t see Niall, couldn’t even take a moment to worry where Niall was as Svein gained the upper hand, his arm around Finn’s throat.

  It can’t end like this. With preternatural strength he twisted and threw until Svein hit the solid wall and for a split second Finn had the upper hand. Then everything went to hell, the whole platform shifting with another explosion. Svein and Finn were thrown to the floor and fuck, Svein laughed, even as he relaxed his hold of Finn and grabbed at a knife of his own. They jumped back and apart. Svein was just as trained as Finn; they were a pretty even match. Up this close Finn could see sca
rring on Svein’s face, and a cloudiness in his left eye. He quickly filed everything for reference even as he caught sight of Niall grabbing at Finn’s fallen Sig.

  No. Don’t use the gun. Don’t do it.

  He couldn’t have Niall killing. Niall wasn’t the killer here.

  Finn held out his knife and he and Svein circled each other, Finn balancing on the balls of his feet, curving back and away as Svein stabbed at him. He moved the balance and swiped down, his sharp blade passing easily through Svein’s thin jacket. Svein didn’t falter and when Finn moved in he sensed Niall moving behind him. He realised he’d taken his eye off the ball as Svein’s knife sliced across his chest, upward, to his throat.

  Finn jumped back but Svein pressed the advantage and forced Finn up against the wall, both men fighting for control with the knives. Svein was winning this battle of strength, madness in his expression and hate in his eyes. Finn relaxed his stance, waiting for Svein to press the advantage and as he did they separated and Svein held his knife in place ready to stab. Finn dropped to the floor and rolled to a crouch in seconds. His temple pounded and dizziness assailed him. Svein saw the crouch, leaned over him, knife high, and in a desperate lunge Finn stabbed up and into Svein’s throat.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Svein choked. Finn twisted the knife as Svein weakly batted his hand, blood spilling from the wound then life leaving his eyes in an instant.

  Finn shoved him away and pulled out his knife at the same time, the arc of arterial blood splattering his jacket. This time, fucking stay dead. He glanced at Niall, who stared at him with horror in his expression. He looked so damn pale with the Sig in his hands, the aim of it right at Svein on the floor.

  Finn moved quickly, prising the pistol from Niall’s hands. “He’s dead,” he said.