Radiant Surrender (CSA Case Files Book 6) (31 page)

Jessie heard Uncle John talking in the background. Sarah must have laid her cell phone against her shoulder because all the sounds had become muffled. She strained to make out what was being said when the line became clear and it was apparent her sister had lifted the phone into the air.

“Jessie, it’s been a long time,” Uncle John’s voice boomed over the line, making Jessie want to pull the phone away from her ear. She refrained, not wanting Briggs to notice that things weren’t what they appeared. “I heard what happened with your mother and father. I thought maybe I could offer my assistance.”

Jessie knew exactly what John meant and she refused to call him
uncle
anymore. Listening to the offer, she really wished Gavin were here to tell her what to do. She was out of her element, but she wasn’t about to lose this opportunity to help her parents.

“My parents would love that.” Jessie looked over her shoulder, seeing Briggs taking his fresh cup of coffee and sitting at the counter. He made eye contact with her and she recognized right away that he was suspicious of the call. She displayed a small smile and then turned back around, needing to convey in some way what needed to be done. “It’s really sad that Mom and Dad will never see their family outside of prison.”

*   *   *   *

Ryland watched the situation escalate into something that neither he nor Crest could control. The pain in his leg far surpassed the burning sensation that singed his upper arm, but he’d live. He was impressed that Crest had the guts to pull the trigger, and even he had to give credit where credit was due. That egotistical fucker had actually shot him.

He pressed his fingers to his eyes to ward off succumbing to the nausea that threatened to empty the contents from his stomach. He tried to gather his wits around the high pitched ringing in his ears. Senator Coates had been eliminated. Coates had hired private security for a reason and had always varied his schedule. He wasn’t an impossible target, but he’d taken precautions with his relationship with Weaver. Neither man trusted the other and both had their fingers in the pie. It had only been a matter of time before one of them turned on each other. The only one who could have pulled off a contract in such a quick manner was Yvette, meaning she was alive and well. Weaver had duped them all and now it would end in bloodshed.

“Yvette, don’t do it.” There was no way in hell Ryland could to stand at the moment, although that had more to do with the after effects of the pain then it did with the injuries themselves. None of it would matter if Yvette released the spoon on that M67 fragmentation grenade. “I’ll get you out of here.”

Crest and McKinnon had Yvette surrounded now. McKinnon had maneuvered his way around her, while Crest shifted so that Ryland wasn’t at his back. It was a smart move, but it wasn’t like he had a weapon of any kind at the moment. Yvette held the grenade in one hand while holding her other against her ribcage. That wound had to be currently bleeding her out.

“Weaver had me walk in here knowing full well we weren’t getting out.”

“You’re smarter than that, Yvette,” Ryland replied, wincing as another wave of nausea hit. “You knew. You just want this over with and I understand that. I can give you that without pulling the death card. It’s what I’ve been working toward.”

“You were looking out for yourself, Travis,” Yvette laughed out in pain, squeezing her side a little harder to try and stem the bleeding. It was the hole in her back that had to be pouring blood. “Fuck.”

“You went along with Weaver when he offered to fabricate your death,” Crest said in a tone that made it impossible to know what he was thinking. Ryland didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, but he damn well knew that Crest didn’t want to die today. “You want something and I’m the only one in position to give it to you. You tell me what it is and we’ll figure out a way to make that happen.”

Ryland could hear footsteps behind him and he knew they were out of time for Crest to negotiate anything. It didn’t matter. The only one Yvette ever listened to was him and he’d fucked that up the moment he’d brought her into this lifestyle. He was the only one who had the ability to get her out, regardless of what Crest thought.

“Look at me,” Ryland ordered, swallowing hard as he used the doorjamb to lever himself into a standing position. He waited to say anything else until he had Yvette’s full attention. “I don’t know how Weaver talked you into this bullshit or how much money he promised you to take me out, but the whistle has already been blown. He’s done. I’m your only hope now. Everything is lined up like we used to talk about and now it’s just a matter of time. Give me three months.”

Ryland felt Crest’s cold gaze on him, but that didn’t stop him from telling Yvette the truth. He could see that Yvette easily followed the trail of words he’d given her. Three months was what it would take to get her out of prison and although there was no honor among thieves…Ryland prided himself on the fact that he always kept his word. He trusted no one, which was why he’d survived this life as long as he had. One slip of a severely wounded woman’s fingers was about to end it all. His life resided in the hand of his sister who was greedier and colder than anyone he’d ever met. Didn’t that just beat all?

“If you’re wrong about Weaver we’re as good as dead.” Yvette shifted as her pain became worse, causing everyone to freeze where they stood. “His reach goes far beyond what those idiots in Washington believe.”

“Weaver is dead,” Crest stated without taking his eyes off of Yvette. Ryland figured that information was being conveyed to Crest through his earpiece. There was no reason not to believe him. Ryland wondered if the bullet was by Weaver’s own hand or another individual, but it didn’t matter at the end of the day. “Make the most of this opportunity, Yvette. You have a sister who would very much like to meet you someday.”

Ryland gave props to Crest for pulling out the family card, but it wasn’t likely to be the reason Yvette gave herself up. By the time he’d gotten her away from the sadistic bastard who’d molested her and a mother who would have sold her soul for another chance at an inheritance, the sister he remembered no longer existed. He didn’t believe in regrets, but if he had, not getting Yvette out of that situation sooner would have been the top one. She didn’t give a damn about Taryn, but Yvette would use it toward her advantage if she could.

“Three months.” Ryland dangled the bait that he knew was the only thing Yvette cared about. “Everything that I promised would be in place will be delivered to you.”

“Why?” Yvette asked, wincing from the pain. Ryland could see her grip on the grenade was loosening. It shouldn’t have mattered whether or not he went out this way. He wasn’t scared of death, but there were still some things he needed to do. “Weaver paid me to take you out long ago. I betrayed you. So why help me now?”

“Penance for not coming for my little sister sooner?”

Ryland worded it as a question because he didn’t feel regret. All of his actions had led him here. Life was too short for guilt and those with a guilty conscience made mistakes that got them into this kind of mess. He wasn’t skirting responsibility, as it was his choices that had put them here. He’d warned Crest numerous times that Weaver wasn’t one to be undermined and that was exactly what had been done. Even with Weaver out of the picture, the corruption that was taking place in Washington wouldn’t be destroyed.

It happened before Ryland could move. Yvette’s lashes fluttered over her chocolate brown eyes as she started to fall to her side. Crest yelled out and Lach launched his body toward her in hopes of grabbing hold of the grenade. This was the end and Ryland couldn’t help but involuntarily jerk forward, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to reach the device in time to prevent the fuse from being ignited and the subsequent detonation of the main charge three seconds later, thus destroying everyone and everything within five meters.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

C
rest sat on what was left of the stairs, resting his elbows on his knees as he breathed deeply, trying to lower his heart rate. He rubbed his chin on his interwoven fingers and contemplated their luck. They’d escaped death by three seconds. Contrary to popular belief, once the spoon on a grenade was released, three seconds is all the time you get before the standard issue US Military M67 fragmentation grenade exploded with a blast radius of five meters. Lach had managed to catch the tiny baseball shaped harbinger of death and throw it hard enough that it went through the living room and into the lower level bathroom. The majority of the blast was contained in the powder room, although there was nothing left of the ceramic fixtures and every one of them had cuts and abrasions from the flying glass and shrapnel. Yvette’s body was sprawled in front of them, but her death wasn’t caused by the gunshot wound. The detonation had forced a jagged piece of bidet several inches into her skull. The blow to her head was more than she could have possibly survived and now Ryland was covering her face with his dress shirt.

“Retirement sounds pretty good right about now. Being around you people tends to put my life in danger,” Lach said, drying blood with shiny white shards of ceramic debris stuck into his face like little darts. His black T-shirt looked almost white from the powdered rubble. A frown marred his face as the words—more than he usually used—fell flat. Crest chalked it up to another near miss on the man’s life. “Phoebe’s going to be damn well pissed I came this close to not coming home again. Did I tell you that I asked her to marry me?”

“Better give it some time before you walk down the aisle.” Crest continued the ordinary conversation as he watched Ryland with not an ounce of compassion, needing to feel some sort of normalcy in this life they led. “Phoebe’s not going to want your face looking like that in the pictures on the front page of every newspaper.”

“No one else is getting married before Lauren and me,” Connor said, walking through what was left of the doorframe. The left side of it was missing some pieces of drywall. The rest of the team joined him, even Taryn, and Crest noticed that her gaze was glued to her half-sister. His gut twisted at the sight of the anguish in Taryn’s brown eyes. Her pain seeped into the rest of the team who were now surrounding her. Their ability to push the damage out through making it impersonal failed as they recognized the woman as her sister and not just another foe. Still, they had to try. “I’ll have Lauren tell the photographer to airbrush the two of you. We can’t have this memory live on forever in our wedding photos.”

“No,” Taryn agreed in a whisper, slowly moving forward with Ethan by her side. Crest surveyed the couple as they got closer to Ryland. Ethan kept Taryn balanced and Crest was glad to see that only strengthened with their marriage. “We don’t want that.”

“I’ll call Elle and let the girls know that we’re mostly whole,” Kevin said, stepping around Jax who was glaring at Ryland with death in his eyes. It was evident that Jax was wishing it was Ryland lying on the floor with a large chunk of toilet sticking out of his head instead of Yvette, but not everyone got their wishes granted today. It was also apparent that Kevin didn’t say
it was over
, since technically it wasn’t. Ryland wasn’t out of their lives quite yet. “You’ve got some amazing reflexes, Lach.”

“I’m impressed,” Schultz said, walking into the room without a speck of dust on his suit. Crest would have found humor in that had he not shut down his emotions. It would take some time before he returned to normal and he was grateful that Jessie wasn’t here to witness this cold side of him. He couldn’t think of her now. He hadn’t hesitated to shoot Ryland and he would have taken it further without regret had the situation warranted it. “McKinnon, it’ll be good to have you around should your future father-in-law win the election. Secret Service might need to put you guys on as private contractors.”

Lach shook his head with a wince, not bothering to comment. The man said few words now that he was somewhat back to his old self, but he didn’t need to. He got his point across. Schultz had already moved onto another topic anyway.

“Weaver pulled his own trigger when he realized that too much evidence had been gathered against him. I had my men neutralize the agents outside without too many casualties and the few we took alive will be debriefed accordingly.” Schultz cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing the situation before him. Already the place was starting to swarm with forensic specialists and other crime scene personnel. Taryn was kneeling beside Yvette, taking Ryland’s place. He had managed to slide himself away from the body, propping himself against what used to be part of the side table where his prized whiskey had been kept. Paramedics were trying to treat him all the while he kept waving them away, staring at someone in the doorway. Crest looked past Schultz to see Fallon Canna watching the scene unfold. He didn’t care for the abnormal admiration that was shining in her eyes anymore than he had when he’d originally asked for her expertise.

“Leave it,” Schultz warned with a shake of his head. “Ryland wasn’t sugarcoating this
thing
that Weaver was a part of. There are more government officials that were designated as targets and POTUS wants the best profiler the feds have. She’s it. Fallon can point us in the right direction of who might be Weaver’s successor in the grand scheme of things. From our understanding there are plans in motion that can’t be undone unless these traitors are hunted down one by one. Fallon is in the midst of creating a couple of profiles and needs Ryland’s assistance ASAP.”