Defiance (The Defending Home Series Book 1) (20 page)

More voices now from the factory floor and above. They’d struck a hornet’s nest and the fight was on.

Colton grabbed the man’s service pistol and stuck it in his belt.

“We gotta get out of this corridor or we’re sitting ducks,” Dale shouted. They pushed out into the open, heading for cover behind the conveyor belts and machinery which dotted the large space. Shots rang out, pinging off the concrete floor and sparking off nearby bits of steel.

One man was on the stairs heading down and Dale fired off a wild shot in his direction with little effect other than to keep him from firing back. Shane and Colton were out in front. Chaos reigned as rounds poured in from every direction. They were firing wildly and Dale had to remind himself that in the dim light, the deputies were just blind as they were. A shot buzzed over his head and struck a conveyer console.

“We can’t let them surround us,” Dale said. “Or we’ll be caught in a crossfire.” It was one of the tactical lessons Walter had taught him on the firing range. He peered over a piece of equipment and saw the vague shape of two deputies close together shooting at them.

“You two hold them off here while I circle around back,” Dale said.

Shane and Colton nodded and hunkered low to the ground.

Duke was right on his heels as Dale ran across a patch of open ground, a handful of bullets tracing his path. He was charging around a large robotics unit when he came face to face with a deputy who must have had the same idea. The deputy raised his gun first, but Dale’s shotgun was large and hard to maneuver. He did the only thing he was able to under the circumstance. He swiped the man’s pistol with the stock of his Mossberg. He’d hoped it would go flying out of his hand, but it didn’t.

Without waiting to be told, Duke grabbed the hand with the gun and shook violently. Dale then swung the stock up under the man’s chin to the sound of cracking bones. The deputy’s head reared and he fell backwards. By the time he landed, Dale had his Ruger out, placing two rounds into his torso.

Still, he kept going, tapping his leg and summoning Duke to stay close.

The two deputies near the center of the factory floor were closing in on Shane and Colton, whose return fire was missing by a fairly large margin. At least the rattle of Shane’s AR was enough to keep them from charging in too aggressively. Other deputies were approaching from their left. In a few minutes, his friends would have to reposition or be killed.

Dale knew the shotgun wouldn’t take the two deputies out from here, but the wide spray would certainly draw their attention. He racked the weapon, leveled it and fired. Both of them ducked down and one of them screamed, a sign that he’d hit his mark. In daylight, using the Remington, he was sure one of them would already be dead, but for now this was all he could do.

He slung the shotgun and pulled the Ruger. But as he approached, shots from Shane’s AR came dangerously close. He was running the risk of walking into friendly fire, a danger he would need to be aware of. Waiting for his brother to reload, Dale sprinted past the hangar doors and into a nice spot right behind the two deputies. One by one they rose to fire at Shane and Dale let them have it. Both fell dead.

When the other deputies coming in from the left saw that, they ran off down a dark corridor and disappeared.

The factory floor grew quiet. “Either of you hit?” Dale asked as he came up on his brother and nephew.

“We’re okay,” Colton replied.

He and Duke reached them and was about to head for the stairs when Dale stopped. Shane’s arm was bleeding.

“You’re hit,” he said.

Shane looked down, just as surprised. “I felt something hit my shoulder, but I thought it was only a close call.”

“Adrenaline’s pumping through your system,” Dale told him. He pulled up the sleeve of Shane’s t-shirt. “It looks like a ricochet cut through the fat in your arm.”

“Uh, you mean the muscle.”

“Welcome to the club,” Colton said, tapping his own wound.

They headed upstairs after that, pushing into the second level, ready to find Sheriff Gaines and maybe even Mayor Reid in time for a little old-time justice.

“You hear that?” Shane said, pointing toward the hallway on their left that led to Reid’s office.

“Sounds like someone whimpering,” Colton replied.

Moving fast, Dale kept the shotgun leveled, unsure what awaited them. Finally, they came to Reid’s office. The door was closed and Dale used the heel of his boot to kick it open. The double doors swung in, revealing a figure tied to a chair with a black bag over her head. A quick sweep of the room revealed the others were gone.

Dale pulled off the hood and saw that it was Sandy. He removed the gag and cut her restraints.

“I didn’t think you were gonna come,” she said, fighting back tears of joy. He helped Sandy to her feet and squeezed her in a bear hug.

“Took us a little longer to figure out where you were.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Shane said, peering out the window at the town in the distance bathed in moonlight.

Dale fell on one knee and fed Duke a treat for a job well done. “I guess in the end those two cowards decided she wasn’t worth dying for.”

Randy

––––––––

R
andy was pacing back and forth in the foyer of Mayor Reid’s mansion, cursing at the top of his lungs as he waved his pistol around. The two deputies who had fled the gunfight at the plant were also with them, both now carrying shotguns.

“You’re not helping the situation,” Reid said, irritated.

“She was supposed to be our leverage over Hardy and a gift for the Mexican drug boss’ lieutenant son and now we have neither.” Randy kicked at a turned-up edge of carpet. “I knew we shoulda pretended to set up a peaceful meeting and then whacked him. They killed at least four of our men at the factory. What’s gonna stop him from breaking through that door and killing the rest of us?”

The two deputies eyed each other nervously.

Reid walked over and handed him a stiff drink. “Calm down, Sheriff. We still have those new recruits you recently hired as well as whoever’s left at the station.”

Keith and the others were probably dead, Randy thought, but didn’t say. They were alone and he could no longer fight the impending sense of doom creeping through his bones.

The handle on the front door began to turn and suddenly every weapon in the room was trained in that direction. It swung open slowly and even Reid was clutching a pistol, seemingly ready to shoot.

Deputy Keith threw his hands up. “Hold your fire,” he shouted. “It’s us.”

The guns didn’t move.

“Who are you with?” Randy demanded, sounding more paranoid than he intended to.

“Gomez and Lewis,” Keith said, worried. He pushed the door open a little further, showing the other two deputies. All three men looked like they’d been through hell—red marks around their wrists, likely from being bound, gashes and scrapes about their faces. But it was Keith who seemed the worst of the bunch. He ambled forward, every step an exercise in pure agony.

“The heck did they do to you?” one of the deputies with the shotgun asked.

Keith glared up at them. “Don’t ask.”

“And the others?” Mayor Reid asked, putting away his pistol.

“Dead,” Keith said. “Shot by that maniac or mauled by his crazy dog.”

Suddenly the deputy’s strange walk made sense to Randy and he winced from the thought of it.

“What about the new recruits?” Randy asked, a thread of hope in his voice.

“Gone too,” was Keith’s curt answer. “When they came back to the station and saw what had happened, they quit.”

“They can’t just quit,” Reid bellowed, incensed.

“It ain’t the army,” Randy began to say. “We can’t exactly force them.”

Reid’s eyes darkened. “Really? You see, that’s where you’re wrong, Sheriff. We
can
force them and we will. Everything we’ve built is threatening to crumble to dust at our feet. This is the final hour where we pull together and fight for our rights or we die trying.”

A great speech, but Randy couldn’t help feeling that somehow when Reid said ‘die trying’ he wasn’t talking about himself. He made a silent tally of the room and saw they were six men strong, including himself but excluding the mayor.

More than once he’d driven by Dale’s property, often at night so he wouldn’t risk getting his patrol car shot up. And every time he did, he’d watched the place grow more and more fortified. They were preparing for battle and the six men by his side likely wouldn’t last five minutes during an assault. What they needed were at least a dozen more men, ideally ones with some training under their belts.

Mayor Reid was still doing his best to inspire them with his eloquence when a strange horn sounded from the driveway.

Randy’s nerve endings began firing all at once, his mouth turning as dry as the desert floor in July. One of the deputies ran to the front window and nudged the curtain aside. Randy went that way, mostly to warn him against getting shot. They couldn’t afford to lose another man, not yet. He arrived to find the glow from dozens of headlights filling the room, making it look like the sun had come up early. The source outside was a convoy of SUVs, trucks and even a pair of tankers, one for fuel and the other presumably for water.

The horn sounded again and Randy caught the distinct sound of a door opening and the shape of a man stepping out. He had thought at first it was Dale, waltzing in with the rest of his family to finish what they’d started, but this sort of bravado wasn’t his style. No, this was someone else and by the looks of things, he’d brought a lot of friends.

Mayor Reid was already heading for the front door, a giant smile plastered on his face. He swung it open to reveal Edwardo Ortega. Although a good six inches shorter than Randy had expected, Edwardo looked about as ruthless as they came, with short-cropped dark hair and the bronzed skin of a field hand. The tattoos that ran up his neck and the length of his arms told the same story, as did the man’s cold piercing eyes. If there had ever been a soul in there, it was long gone now.

Edwardo held out his hand to Mayor Reid and made a facial gesture that resembled a smile, but one devoid of any of the usual warmth. He worked his way down the line, addressing each of them, and in that instance Randy realized that unlike Mayor Reid, who liked big words and lofty ideals, this man was a real leader. Behind him were a long line of far less savory types, each with more tattoos and weapons than the last. They meant business and if Randy had worried before that by calling these boys in Reid was playing with fire, he knew it now for sure. From this moment forward, the town would never be the same.

Edwardo moved past them, slowly assessing the place, his eyes scanning from floor to ceiling. “I like it,” he said, with the hint of a Mexican accent. He sounded like one of the thousands educated in the United States who had opted to apply what they’d learned back home in the most horrible way. In this case, the family drug business. “This is where my men and I will stay,” Edwardo announced. His men cheered and Reid tried to grin, but it was clear he was thinking the same thing Randy was. They might have solved their troubles with Dale Hardy, but in doing so, they might have just signed a deal with the devil.

––––––––

S
andy came out of the bathroom at Dale’s place, looking more like herself. In fact, she looked stunning, even with her long hair wet and combed straight. It was a strange thing to think given what she’d just been through. But his eyes didn’t lie.

“Feel better?” he asked, handing her a warm cup of coffee. “One cream and no sugar. Just the way you like it.”

She took the mug and sipped it. “You remembered.”

“Hey, I never forgot.”

The two went downstairs to where most of the others were gathered. Shane and Brooke stayed on the second floor on watch. They’d just pulled off a major victory against Sheriff Gaines and Mayor Reid’s plan to gain a stranglehold on Encendido and Dale was certain they’d be eager to even the score.

The clock on the wall read two in the morning, although it didn’t feel that late given the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He knew when it finally left he’d fall flat on his face. For now, he wanted to enjoy Sandy’s company. There was an old saying that you never really appreciated someone until you nearly lost them and for Dale was that was taking on a whole new significance.

They spent the next thirty minutes chatting with family about the conspiracy she’d uncovered and the kidnapping ordeal that had followed. The whole time, Dale had largely remained quiet. Colton said a few words about how bravely he and Shane had fought. Only Walter seemed to see through their bravado. Either way, the most important thing was that Sandy hadn’t been left with more than a knot on the back of her head.

“You realize they’ll be back for revenge,” Walter said, sitting forward, his forearms resting on his knees.

“They wouldn’t if we’d managed to kill the sheriff and Mayor Reid,” Colton said.

“In that,” Dale said, “we failed, but it wasn’t from lack of trying. And you’re right, Walter. They’ll regroup and try to hit us, so we’ll need to make sure we’re ready. How far away are we from completing the defenses?”

Walter studied his hands, counting his fingers. “Another few days. We need to finish reinforcing the garage door and attach the retractable staircase.”

Sandy gave them a funny look. “Retractable staircase. Geez, you guys
have
been busy.”

“The mayor’s hired goons who attacked us breached the house,” Dale said. “I vowed to never let that happen again. The plan to turn this place into a castle keep, well, that was Walter’s idea.”

The old man smiled. “I suppose I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Ann yawned and struggled to stand. She was heading for bed.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, honey,” Walter said, helping her. He nodded to the others. “You should get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Colton and Nicole got up, leaving Dale and Sandy alone.

“It feels strange to be back here,” Sandy said, pulling tight the sweater he’d given her.