Playboy (The Trident Series II: BRAVO Team #4)

CHAPTER NINE

Lorenzo Escalona stood along the railing near the bow of his boat, looking through his binoculars. His eyes narrowed as he watched from a distance as the Coast Guard swarmed over the narco-sub like ants as they offloaded the cocaine, bale by bale.

However, they barely made a dent—maybe a quarter of the cargo, at most. The tension in his jaw tightened as his anger built.

The sub had been caught, and all because the two idiots piloting it had made the fatal mistake of staying on the surface too long. They should’ve dived. They should’ve gone undetected. But now, here they were, about to lose over a hundred million dollars in product and their reputation along with it.

Lorenzo’s hands balled into fists as the thought of failure gnawed at him. Ramon’s going to kill me . His brother had warned him about taking risks, but he had to prove himself. He knew the game—if you didn’t take risks, you didn’t succeed. And Lorenzo wasn’t one to sit back while everything fell apart. He wasn’t going to be remembered as the one who let the family’s empire take a hit.

He glanced at the two men beside him—Carlos and Victor—both hardened and loyal, with enough experience to handle what he had in mind. The Coast Guard didn’t seem to have their full force on the scene; maybe they hadn’t expected the sub to carry so much cargo. And maybe that oversight would be their downfall. He could feel it—an opportunity.

Lorenzo turned to Carlos, his eyes sharp. “You think you can operate that sub if we get you on board?”

Carlos, ever stoic, nodded once. “I can. Get me inside, and I’ll take it down.”

Lorenzo’s mind raced, calculating the possibilities. They had weapons on board—enough to provide cover fire while they got close. The rest of the shipment was still there. And if they pulled this off, it would be a victory unlike any other.

A wry grin tugged his lips. “Alright then. Victor and I will keep those bastards busy, and you get on that sub. We’re taking back what’s ours.”

Carlos looked at him, his confidence solid. “We’ll have to be fast, boss.”

Lorenzo smirked. “Fast is all I know. Let’s move.”

As he turned back to the scene, adrenaline surged through him. His brother Ramon had always called him reckless and a risk-taker, but he had also taught him one undeniable truth—risks were what made men succeed.

And Lorenzo wasn’t about to let a few Coast Guard officers stand between him and his empire.

He looked back at his loyal men, determination blazing in his eyes. “Let’s show these people they messed with the wrong family.”

◆◆◆

Gabby sat on the edge of her seat, the low hum of the engine and the soft lapping of the waves doing little to soothe the simmering frustration she felt inside. Her eyes scanned the perimeter, watching over the scene where the SEALs and Coast Guard were offloading the cocaine from the narco-sub, but her mind couldn’t help but wander back to her disappointment. She’d wanted that aerial support position more than anything. It was a critical role, one that she deserved and had earned. She knew Alley had blocked her—again.

If Graham hadn’t been in that meeting with him, she would’ve been up there, she thought, gripping the wheel tighter. She had proven herself time and time again, and yet, every time an opportunity arose, Alley found a way to keep her grounded. It was maddening.

Gabby had to wonder—would Alley always be a roadblock for her? She loved her job. She loved her team. But Alley’s blatant sexism and his determination to keep her in what he considered her “place” gnawed at her every day. Even now, while she was patrolling on the water, she could feel that frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Now that she had her intelligence certifications, maybe it was time to consider using them to open doors and new opportunities where she wouldn’t be constantly undermined.

Maybe it’s time to sit down with Graham, she mused. He’d steer me in the right direction. I know he would.

But before she could follow that train of thought, something in her periphery caught her attention. There was a boat moving fast—too fast and it was heading straight toward the narco-sub’s location. Her instincts kicked in, and she quickly pulled out her binoculars. Squinting, she focused in on the vessel, and immediately her stomach dropped. From what she could see, there were four men, and they looked determined, with their sights locked on Playboy, his team, and the other Coasties near the sub.

“Shit,” Gabby muttered, her heart racing as she slammed the throttle forward, her boat surging to life. Grabbing the radio, she barked into the mic. “This is Petty Officer Allen. Be advised there is a hostile vessel moving in your direction. I think that sub is theirs. Moving to intercept.”

Her fingers worked quickly as she flipped on the lights and sirens. She then toggled with the intercom system. “This is the U.S. Coast Guard! Stop the boat and turn off your engine immediately!”

No response.

Gabby’s boat sped forward. As she closed the distance, she could see more clearly now—four men, weapons drawn, intent on crashing through any defense to get to their target. They weren’t slowing down.

Holy fuck!

Her mind raced, and her heart pounded in her chest, knowing the men at the sub’s location were sitting ducks. There wasn’t enough time for them to get everyone back onto the boats and untie from the sub. Not to mention the aerial support they had earlier left the scene because they were called to another incident.

There was only one option.

Gabby clenched her jaw, adrenaline surging through her veins as she gunned the throttle, pushing her boat to max speed. Her heart hammered in her chest as the two boats barreled toward each other. She flicked her gaze toward the other vessel—it was slowing down slightly, perhaps trying to evade her, but not enough. Not enough to stop the imminent threat.

“ This is it, ” she whispered to herself, making peace with the split-second decision. Gabby pressed the throttle as far as it would go, her boat surging ahead. She angled her vessel directly into the path of the oncoming boat.

She braced herself for impact.

CRASH!

The collision hit like a freight train. Metal screamed against metal as Gabby’s boat slammed into the other vessel. The force of the crash sent her flying backward, her body catapulting into the air. She felt all the air leave her lungs from the brutal force of her body slamming into a hard surface. The last thing she remembered before the darkness engulfed her was the cold ocean swallowing her whole.

◆◆◆

Playboy wiped the sweat from his brow as he helped toss another bale of cocaine onto the deck. They were making steady progress, though they had only offloaded about a quarter of the product.

There was still some tension in the air from the operation. They had won a significant battle in preventing a shit ton of cocaine from making it onto the streets. But in their line of work, it never felt like enough—enough would be eliminating the distributors and the cartels.

He cast a glance toward his team. They were all working alongside the Coast Guard, loading the confiscated product onto the two boats.

Everything was under control until suddenly, the radio crackled, followed by Gabby’s urgent voice.

“This is Petty Officer Allen. Be advised there is a possible hostile vessel moving in your direction. I think that sub is theirs. Moving to intercept.”

Playboy’s stomach dropped. He spun around just in time to see Gabby’s boat racing toward them at full throttle, sirens blaring, lights flashing. And behind her, cutting through the waves like a predator, was another boat—larger, faster, and not slowing down.

“Shit!” Bear shouted, the alarm in his voice matching Playboy’s rising panic.

“Everyone, get to the other boats!” Playboy barked as everyone scrambled to safety. But even as his body moved on autopilot, his mind was stuck on Gabby. His eyes locked onto her boat, watching her push forward, her smaller craft surging through the water. He knew what she was about to do, and his heart hammered in his chest.

“She’s going to hit them!” Joker yelled.

Playboy’s blood ran cold as he recalled her words over the radio. Moving to intercept.

He could see it—the distance closing between Gabby’s boat and the oncoming threat. Everything happened so fast that there wasn’t even enough time for them to reach for their weapons and fire at the oncoming boat.

But then, time seemed to slow as the two vessels collided. The screech of metal hitting metal filled the air, followed by a thunderous crash that shook the water around them. The impact was brutal, as Gabby’s boat was practically T-boned by the larger vessel, sending debris flying into the air. Everyone dove for cover to avoid being hit by splinters of wood and shattered metal as it rained down.

The noise was deafening—the scream of grinding steel, the howl of engines cutting out, and then... silence.

Playboy scrambled to his feet, his vision blurred for a second as he searched for Gabby’s boat. Wreckage floated on the surface where her boat had been, pieces of twisted metal bobbing in the water like broken toys. The stench of gas and smoke was heavy in the air. His heart pounded in his chest, panic rising.

“Where the hell is Gabby?” he shouted, panic clawing at his throat. His mind raced, but his body was already moving, diving into the cold water without hesitation. He heard others follow him as he swam toward the wreckage.

He searched the surface, scanning for any sign of her. “Gabby!” he called out, the urgency in his voice betraying the fear he was trying to contain. He heard others calling out her name. But all they got back was silence.

Seconds stretched into eternity. Debris bobbed in the water, the wreckage eerily silent now, save for the faint lapping of waves against the twisted metal.

Suddenly, Duke’s shout cut through the air. “Over here! I’ve got her!”

Playboy swam as fast as his legs could propel him toward Duke’s voice.

When he reached the aft of the sub, that was when he saw Gabby. She was half-submerged, her body limp amid the twisted remains of her boat. Her face was pale, and her body was littered with cuts. Blood mixed with the saltwater, and for a brief, agonizing moment, Playboy couldn’t breathe.

“She’s unconscious, man,” Duke said, his voice strained as he tried to free her. “Fuck! Her leg’s stuck. She’s pinned down.”

By then, several of the others arrived, including a few of the Coasties who brought several flotation devices, including a flotation backboard.

“Backup is on its way,” one of the Coasties said as he moved into position to help position one of the flotation devices under Gabby’s head for support.

As the water sloshed around them, Playboy and Duke kept Gabby’s body as still as possible. He could hear the frantic murmurs of the team behind him as they worked to free her leg.

“Stay with me, Gabby. Please just hold on,” he whispered, though his voice cracked as if the words might break apart before they reached her. Her head, though it was supported, lolled against his chest. Her breaths were shallow, and that sent a shiver of dread racing through him.

Fear clawed at his mind. What if she didn’t make it? He had to push those thoughts away. He needed to shove them into a dark corner of his mind. But even if he could, it was impossible to escape them entirely.

He glanced down at her face. She was so pale and had small cuts on her forehead and her cheeks. He felt so helpless. This was Gabby—his Gabby—and he couldn’t do a damn thing except hold her and pray like hell that she’d survive.

His arms trembled from the realization that he might lose her. No! No, he couldn’t think like that. They were getting her out. They had to.

His throat tightened. “Come on, Gabs. I’m not losing you like this,” he told her, not giving a shit who heard him.

“We’re almost there! This last piece is big.” Bear shouted and started barking orders to get as many hands as he could to help move the huge piece of steel, which was hard to do, considering they didn’t have much room to work.

“Fuck! It’s too big and too heavy for us to move by hand.” He looked at one of the Coasties. “Pull one of the boats around, and we can use the winch to lift it. All we need is about a foot. That should be plenty to at least pull her out.”

Playboy watched nervously as Duke kept checking Gabby’s pulse.

Within minutes, the winch groaned to life with a low mechanical hum. Its gears grinded as the steel cable tightened with tension. Seconds later, the sound deepened into a strained whine as the piece of metal started to rise.

Suddenly, Playboy felt a shift in weight.

“Now!” Bear shouted.

Both Playboy and Duke swiftly guided Gabby’s body out from under the pile of floating debris.

Playboy’s eyes widened in horror as Gabby’s mangled leg came into view. Her lower left leg was twisted in a way that legs weren’t supposed to be. It was a gruesome sight.

“We need to tie off her leg. She’s losing a lot of blood,” Duke said. With the help of a few of the others, they had her fully on the backboard.

Just as they were lifting her out of the water and onto one of the boats, two more boats arrived on the scene.

Playboy stayed by Gabby’s head as Duke, and one of the other Coasties assessed her injuries.

Duke quickly tied a tourniquet around her leg just below her knee to help slow the bleeding.

“The chopper just finished up that water rescue, and it needs to be refueled. It’ll be about another forty-five minutes until it can get her.”

“We don’t have forty-five minutes. We need to get her to the hospital asap,” Duke told the Coastie.

“We can take the boat and call ahead and have an ambulance waiting at the nearest beach. It’ll cut the time in half.”

“Let’s do it.”

As the boat started to move, Playboy settled in next to Gabby on one side while Duke stayed close on the other side so he could monitor her condition. The rest of the team stood watch around Gabby. Their expressions were grim.

He brushed some loose hairs away from her face before leaning down and kissing her forehead. “Stay with us, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as the boat sped through the water.

Duke reached over and placed a reassuring hand on Playboy’s shoulder. “She’s tough. Stay positive,” he told him.

Playboy nodded, though he found little comfort in Duke’s words. He knew Gabby was strong, but the fear of losing her was overwhelming.

His free hand clenched into a fist as he felt his heart breaking seeing her so broken. But he couldn’t fall apart now. Not when she needed him to be strong. He needed to be strong for her.