Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 (5 page)

R
anger and Hunter locked
, loaded, and primed for the mission. Adrenaline pumped through Ranger’s veins, pushing his feet faster. His steps harder. He had to see this task through. Had to stay focused. Failure meant innocent kids would become criminals. Killers. Failure meant Ranger gave up his only solid link to ISA. Meant he failed Shane Carter.

But more than that, he hurried because of Amy. Bo Lawson might be there, keeping watch over her, but Ranger needed to protect her.

The security door slid open. Bo Lawson stood there, blocking the exit, arms crossed over his chest.

Fear slammed into Ranger with the force of a freight train. The only man standing between Amy and a Mexican mafia wasn’t between them at all. “Why the fuck aren’t you at Amy’s?”

“I knew you two were planning something.” Bo Lawson, Sheriff of Mercy, stepped forward, finger pointing directly in Ranger’s face. “You might be military, but this is my town. Everything and everyone goes through me. I warned you what would happen if you tried to run some spook mission behind my back.”

Clouds slid across the sky, obscuring what little light the moon provided. The darkness perfect for undercover work and sneaking into a drug compound.

Perfect for Santos to slip into Amy’s house undetected.

“What is this place?” Bo stepped closer, his face a mask of fury.

“You left Amy alone.” Ranger spoke soft, the fear and anger choking his windpipe. She could be hurt right now. If Santos was there... He was going to kill the bastard, fuck all if he was the sheriff. “I swear to God, if she is hurt, I’m going to kill you.”

Bo didn’t back down, he pushed his chest to Ranger’s, nose to nose. “I warned you and your brother. Don’t try to run ops behind my back in my town.”

“If this is your town, why aren’t you protecting it? Hunter told you about Santos, about Amy. That bastard could be there right now.” Rage. Ranger saw red. He clenched his fist, ready to smash it into Bo’s face.

“Then why aren’t you there? I know you’re spec ops. You could take care of her problem.”

Ranger’s lip curled and he slapped Bo’s finger down. “You wonder why. Look at the last sheriff. For all I know, you’re the criminal.”

Veins popped on Bo’s neck. His face flushed. “I warned you if you did this shit I’d throw your entire team in jail. Even if it’s for twenty-four hours. I can still fuck up your mission.”

“Try it.” Ranger bit out.

Hunter’s hand sliced between them, cutting the tension. “We don’t really have time for this right now. We have something to do.”

Bo turned to Hunter. “What exactly do you have to do?”

Hunter sighed and stepped back. Dammit, Ranger knew that sigh. Knew that look. His brother’s eyes shadowed. “What branch of the service were you?”

Bo lifted his chin. “Chloenes.”

“Ever do counter-intel in country?”

“Shit.” Bo said.

“Yeah. You know what happened last year, with Evie. You know Sheldon got away with the weapons. We’ve been tracking them.” Hunter turned, indicated for Bo to follow.

“We don't have time for this. They could already be at her ranch.” Ranger interrupted, standing with one foot out the door. He had to get to her house. Now.

“You can make time now or you can explain it from jail. It’s up to you,” Bo said.

Ranger wanted to smash something. He couldn’t afford to stand around explaining anything. Amy was alone with Chloe, and Santos was out there. Ranger could feel the bad karma in the chills needling up his spine.

Hunter’s gaze slid to Ranger, communicating everything with a look. Bo wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to either find out from them or from his own investigation, and if the local law enforcement started investigating, it would draw attention. The Lobellos would go underground. The missing children would disappear.

TF Scorpion’s missing guns would disappear.

Al Seriq. Gone.

Ranger turned from the pair, punched in the code for the door panel, and then held his hand up for the biometric lock. The door slid shut.

Bo let out a low whistle. “Uncle Sam is a hell of a lot nicer to you than the Sheriff’s Office. I had to beg for a new patrol car. You got freaking 007 level shit.”

Bo stood still, studying their building. He took everything in slow, his look not giving anything away. Ranger tried to see it through an outsiders eyes. A wall of monitors, high tech computers and tracking systems, tables full of maps and intel. The CIA spared no expense when it came to covering their tracks.

“Hunter, get on it. I’m giving you two minutes to explain. Then I’m gone.” Ranger kept his back to the wall beside the door. Bo might arrest him, but he’d have to catch him first.

Cpt. Grey was studying the monitors on the back wall, his broad shoulders bunched beneath his grey shirt. He pressed a button on the table beside him and the monitors went black.

“Why are you studying my case files?” Bo’s wide awestruck gaze morphed to pissed.

The Captain turned to the men, his face blank. The man was a machine. Able to shut off his emotions, if he had any, in a split second. Another reason their commander was the best interrogator in the military. “Sheriff.”

“Who are you?”

Their commander walked across the room, held out his hand. “Captain Mack Grey.”

“I would introduce myself, but I get the feeling you already know me. Especially seeing as how you got my private case files.” Bo didn’t extend a hand in return.

“Why are you in my compound?” Grey’s eyes shifted to Ranger and Hunter.

Ranger found himself explaining, or trying to. “He followed us out here.”

“I see. And why would the Sheriff be following you?”

Because he was a bastard. “I am trying to find that out myself.”

“Look, Captain, I’m sure you’re used to running your own show, without checking in. And I’m sure you usually get what you want. But this is my town. Not D.C. Not a third-world country. And if you want to run ops here, you go through me first,” Bo said.

Cpt. Grey showed as much emotion as a broken grandfather clock. Hunter sighed, crossed his arms and propped a hip against the center table. Ranger barely banked the need to slam Bo into the wall. Fuck all. Today was turning into a disaster.

If Santos got to Amy’s house before Ranger or Bo, she was dead. Or worse.

“We don’t have to tell you shit. This is above your security clearance.” Ranger said.

“You don’t want to tell me? Fine.” Bo shrugged his shoulders, the tan cop uniform pulling tight, his star gleamed in the fluorescent lighting. “I’ll just call in my deputies. Looks like I may have found a drug smuggling operation. It could take us weeks to comb through all this stuff. Hell, I know my tech guy will take at least a month to go through the computers.”

Ranger took a step toward Bo, every intention of wrapping his hand around the man’s neck. He’d killed before. More times than he could actually recall, adding another body to his list of sins wouldn’t bother him in the least. Him and the devil were brothers.

“Stop.” Cpt. Grey gave the command and Ranger froze.

“Good call.” Bo smiled and Ranger barely kept from driving a fist into the man’s face. Again.

“You served under General Blackstone. Four years in counter-intelligence.” Grey said.

Bo’s smile disappeared and his face hardened. “Yes.”

“You were on SEAL Team Reaper.” Grey didn’t move anything except his lips. The man’s expression might as well be granite.

“So.” Bo bit out, his demeanor had gone from gleeful to deadly in less than a second. Ranger had heard of team Reaper They were a legend. Nearly the entire team had been taken out on a mission because one of their own turned traitor.

“You are the only one to survive. You were betrayed by one of your own men.” Grey continued like he was talking about the weather.

“What is your fucking point old man.” Bo bit out, the veins that stood out on his neck throbbed. Pulsed.

“You should understand, better than anyone, why we would be hesitant to let an outsider in. Especially one with your background. You were forcibly detained at Walter Reed for a year before you got right.”

Bo blanched, his red face faded to pale. Ranger felt the first small measure of sympathy for the sheriff. He’d lost his entire team. Ranger had lost one man and barely dealt with the guilt. How Bo managed to not lose his mind was a measure of his strength. Conviction.

“How do you know that?”

“I know everything. Just like I know the military is forming a second Team Reaper right now.”

“I would know if that happened. General Blackstone would tell me.” Bo bit out.

“Sure. I guess that is why you’re still hiding in Mercy instead of training at Coronado,” Grey said.

Bo took a step, closed the gap between him and the commander, surprising Ranger. The man’s face had gone from shock and pain to death and destruction. His lips slashed into a cruel smile. “That’s right. I am Sheriff of Mercy. And I’m going to shut your operation down. You can talk about my past all you want. I don’t care. The men I cared about are dead. All of them. I have nothing to lose. I will make it my personal mission to fuck up your life.”

Grey smiled, crossed his arms over his chest. The silence stretched thin. Ranger was ready to snap. Hunter watched the two men face off, tense.

Ranger’s shitty day turned into the shit beneath the shit. His plans to infiltrate the Lobello’s compound were over. His mission to protect Amy and Chloe were in severe jeopardy

Grey studied Bo. Ranger wanted to pull out his hair. Storm out the door and take off.

“If you can answer my question, I’ll fill you in.” Grey waited for Bo to nod.

“What?” Bo said.

“Why are you the only survivor?”

A
my sat
straight up in bed, ripped from sleep by a distant banging. She strained for alertness and listened, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her imagination filled the silence in with creaks and groans from the old farmhouse, but she ignored those. Bang. There it was again. The sleep completely gone now, she jumped from the bed and pulled on her robe. Chloe.

Had she fallen out her crib? Oh god, what if she hit her head.

Bang.

The sound reverberated through the house. Not her baby. Not some small rap on a hard wood floor. That was her kitchen door.

Bang.

Something slammed into the back door. Her heart slammed hard in response, kicked over and spun out of control.

Amy grabbed her cellphone off the bed stand, her hands shaking so bad she could barely open it. The numbers wobbled. Call Ranger. He will come. No. Not Ranger. She’d told him to stay out of her life. Why couldn’t she get him out of her head?

Come on. Call the sheriff. Call Bo. Only her hands trembled and she couldn’t hit the right numbers. What was his number? She couldn’t think.

Call for help. Get to Chloe.

Before she finished dialing, the silence caught her attention.

Silence.

Blood pounded in her ears, rushing and ripping through her body, but the silence was louder. Scarier.

Amy took a deep breath. Thank the lord for the metal bar she’d wedged beneath the doorknob. She’d run to the hardware store and bought the extra security device after Santos. It wasn’t a high-tech security system, but it was enough to keep someone from simply kicking in her back door.

Something cracked. A loud tearing sound. Amy jerked. Dropped the phone. Wood splintered. Tears clogged her throat and her legs turned to rubber. Someone was trying to pry open her door.

Santos. The monster was back. All the warnings Ranger told her, everything he’d warned her about, came crashing into her mind.

Amy fell to her knees and scrambled in the dark for her phone. She couldn’t see. Couldn’t think. A light flashed beneath the bed, her phone beeped.

She heard another loud crack. The door wouldn’t hold much longer. Amy fell to her stomach and stretched her fingers as far and long as she could, until she tipped the phone. It slipped further away.

She dropped her head to the floor. Come on, Amy. Get it. Get the damn phone.

Amy strained, her muscles protested. Finally she felt the phone, and carefully this time, touched it. Pulled it back. When she had it in her hand, she sat back against the bed, using the solid frame to steady herself.

She dialed.

Another loud crack. Sweat broke out across her neck, her shoulders, her arms. Chloe. She had to call Bo and get to Chloe.

The phone rang once. Twice. She swallowed. Please answer. Please answer.

“Amy?” Bo’s smooth voice was a blessing and she nearly cried.

“Bo. Someone’s trying to break in my back door.” Afraid to speak loud, her voice came out in a whisper, filled with tears and fear.

“Do you have a gun? Where are you in the house?” Bo asked. Amy heard someone talking in the background through the phone. A door slammed. A car cranked.

“I’m in my bedroom.” Amy took a deep breath, fought back the tears. Chloe was on the other side of the house. Her little baby, alone. Innocent. Amy scrambled for the baby monitor, pressed it to her ear. She heard Chloe’s soft even breathing.

Another crack. Louder, longer. What if the metal rod was bending? She stood, holding the phone and baby monitor.

But her feet wouldn’t move forward. She backed away from her door. Retreating until her back hit the wall.

“The gun, Amy. Where is your gun? Can you get it?”

Amy shook her head, no. Where was it?

Another bang, followed by more cracking.

“Amy, I need a verbal response. Can you get to your gun?” Bo’s smooth voice ripped her thoughts from death and rape. Being sold into slavery.

“It’s...It’s, I can’t think.” She gripped the monitor harder, holding onto the device, like she could somehow anchor to Chloe.

Why hadn’t she told Ranger about the strange sounds she’d heard in the past couple of weeks? The lights she swore she saw in her old barn at night? Maybe they weren’t her imagination. Maybe it had been Santos all along.

“Amy, listen, I know you’re scared, but I need you to take a deep breath. Focus,” Bo said. Amy heard cursing through the phone in the background. Ranger. Her eyes squeezed tight.

Would she ever see Ranger again? Would she get the chance to tell him she really did care for him? That she wanted him in her life?

She heard a scraping sound through the phone, rough breathing, and a new voice. This one harsh. Dark. And sent from Heaven. “Amy, honey, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

The tears threatening her eyes spilled down her. “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay, honey. We’re almost there. But I need you to get your pistol. Do you still keep it in your closet?”

Bang!

Amy jumped, flattened her back to the wall. That one sounded like the hinges broke loose from the door.

“Dammit, Bo, go faster. I can hear the bastard through the phone.”

“Ranger,” Amy whispered. Frozen in fear like a statue. Unable to run. To speak.

“Amy Ann Carter. Go to your closet right now.” Ranger’s harsh tone snapped her attention back to reality.

“I can’t. I can’t get my feet to move.” They might as well be cement.

“Concentrate on my voice. I’m not going to let you go. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I want you to walk to your closet. Now.”

Amy concentrated. Focused her energy on picking up her right foot and taking a step.

Bang. Metal crunched. Her back hit the wall again, that one small step getting her nowhere.

“I think...I think he’s in the house.”

“Dammit Amy, move your ass to the closet now.” Ranger’s voice rose.

The closet.

Her gun.

Her baby.

“Chloe.” Amy breathed, her throat closed off. No oxygen, no air could get through. She hid in her room like a scared rabbit. Left her baby alone and unprotected.

“Don’t go out there. I’m almost there.” Ranger’s voice was desperate.

Fear for her child obliterated the selfish terror for her own life. Only a coward would be too scared to take care of her own flesh and blood. No. “I’m going to get Chloe.”Amy ignored Ranger’s shouts, and without looking at the screen, tapped the hang up button and shoved her cell into her robe pocket. She dropped the monitor on the bed and ran into the closet, ripped open the gun cabinet and pulled out her shotgun.

She flew back through her bedroom and grabbed the door handle.

Glass shattered.

Her heart skittered through her chest so fast she almost passed out. No. No fear. Protect her baby. She swallowed, clutched the gun, and slowly turned the knob and opened the door to her bedroom. So scared now she couldn’t feel her fingers or feet.

She swallowed, but her throat didn’t work. Her hands shook. Chloe. Chloe. Chloe. Amy repeated her daughter’s name over and over. Stepping from her bedroom into the kitchen. Slow. Steady.

She caught a glimpse of a man through the small window in her kitchen door. Tall. Skinny. Dark ski mask. They made eye contact and the man stopped. Something familiar whispered through her mind.

He kicked the door. Her heart slammed into her throat. Not familiar. Just deadly. Amy took off running to the nursery.

Chloe slept, on her back, her tiny hands up above her head. So sweet. So perfect and innocent. Amy gripped the gun tighter. She would protect her daughter with her life.

Moving faster now, with purpose, Amy crossed to the nursery door and locked it. She backed up to the crib and took aim.

Chloe was the reason Amy kept living after Shane’s death. Her baby had needed her mother. Amy didn’t have a choice but to get out of bed in the morning. Keep going. Keep living. Keep the only part of Shane.

Amy primed her gun.

The kitchen door crashed in. Wood and glass shattered. Amy steadied the butt of the shotgun to her shoulder.

Another crash, like someone kicked over a chair. The man had seen her run through the kitchen.

Amy felt behind her, smoothed a hand down the baby blanket. Touched Chloe’s satiny cheek. Unable to resist, she leaned down and placed a kiss to her head, inhaling that scent, that special perfect scent that was specific to her baby.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.” Amy braced herself, and lifted the gun once more. She took aim at the door. Let the bastard come. If he thought he would hurt her or her baby, he would have to do it with a hole in his chest.