Rogue (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

Nash’s neck.
    “The bad guys are close, Maisey. This is basic snorkeling. Piece of cake.”
    Though her eyes read pure panic, she again nodded. With her teeth already chattering, Nash placed their odds at about fifty/fifty in making a clean escape. Toss in the gator/snake/hypothermia/wild-card factor and it was shaping up to be a seriously lousy day.
    Having reached the center of the narrow channel’s flow, Nash adjusted the net in time to spot a hound alternately baying and lapping at the algae-covered water’s edge.
    Maisey whispered, “He doesn’t look like he wants to kill us, does he?”
    “All he wants is to find our scent.”
    Crashing foliage and a deep, Southern drawl alerted Nash that the dog’s master wasn’t far behind. “Stupid mutt. Told Vicente to search with a heli, but he said it would draw too much attention.”
    “Ask me,” a new voice sounded through tall grasses, “Vicente’s pretty little thing is long gone. This search is a waste of time.” Approaching a second frantically barking dog, the man patted him between his ears. “What’re you all excited about?”
    “Got your snorkel ready?” Nash whispered in Maisey’s ear. The current was painstakingly slow in clearing them from danger.
    Fingers trembling, she held it for him to see.
    “Good girl. On the count of three, we’re both going to slowly descend. Got it?”
    “Uh huh . . .”
    “One . . .”
    “Hey, there, fella. See something?” one of the men called to his dog.
    A bald hulk of a man sporting full sleeve tattoos and a goatee, stared right at them. Nash had taken special care weaving plants through the netting and knew to the men onshore they looked like a floating isle of weeds, but that didn’t stop the event from being unnerving.
    “Two . . .”
    Having entered upstream of where their hunters had emerged from dense undergrowth, Nash and Maisey were ten yards from being dead even with them. If his pulse raced much faster, he feared passing out. On his own or with his team, there was no emotion—only adrenaline in its purest form, something that sharpened frayed nerves. Now, he was consumed by what if scenarios and concern for Maisey that he couldn’t control.
    “Popcorn, what the heck are you—”
    Before Nash could give Maisey her signal to duck, an eight-foot gator erupted from the shoreline’s thick algae, snapping off the nearest hound’s right front leg. Before the dog’s handler fully grasped what was happening, the gator returned to finish his meal, dragging the howling canine into the water until the swamp fell eerily silent.
    “That slimy fucker killed my best hunting hound!”
    “This is voodoo. I’m out of here.”
    Breathing shallow, Nash could only imagine the riot raging in Maisey’s chest. He wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t risk the movement. No matter how distracted Vicente’s men might currently be, there was no guarantee they might not look up to discover their intended targets right before them.
    Maisey silently cried. Lips pressed tight, silvery tears streaked mud on her cheeks. He admired her for holding her emotions in check, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish for the right thing to say to calm her.
    “I’m gonna kill you, stupid sumbitch!” The dog’s owner used an M16 to shoot wildly at the water.
    Though mini-explosions formed a wake and turned algae into projectiles, Nash held firm to Maisey. She, in turn, clung to him so tightly he wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises. Which was all right. Whatever she needed to get her through.
    Over and over the guy fired his weapon, not stopping until running out of ammo.
    Ten feet upstream, the gator rose belly-up to the surface.
    What remained of the dog followed.
    Maisey tensed alongside him. Little convulsions told him she wasn’t in a good way.
    “Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “Everything’s going to be fine.
    “No. No, it’s not.” Though she’d spoken so softly he’d hardly heard her words, the