Seek and Destroy (46 page)

    Please let them be the Neely brothers. He didn't think he'd be able to fight off another attack. At least not unarmed. The voices grew louder as two, make that
three
men approached the gruesome site.

    "Charis." He gently shook her. Her eyes fluttered open then closed again. Ah hell.

    He spotted a pair of boots, then two others, right outside the driver's window. They sure as hell didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry to check for survivors.

    "Better get them out," he heard one say. David didn't recognize the voice, which sent his neck hairs up. "Good shot on the driver."

    Damn. Damn. And double damn.

    "Told you I wouldn't hit her. I only hit what I aim for."

    "But you don't know if she's alive."

    "I don't know if she's dead, either."

    David cursed as the three sets of boots made their way toward the back of the car and stopped a foot from his head. Closing his eyes, he leaned over Charis and said a prayer.

    "This one's bleeding pretty good," the shooter stated.

    "Is it the man or the woman?"

    He heard the leaves rustle as the man shifted to kneel down and look into the car. He felt his breath, hot and putrid, on the back of his head. Jesus, this guy's BO smelled worse than his breath. "It's the guy. I don't see the girl. Maybe she got thrown?" He stood back up.

    "Ah shit. You know he won't pay us if we don't have her."

    Oh shit. They wanted Charis. Which meant Surreal must have had something to do with these hired goons. The smaller pair of the boots shifted and David lowered his head just as he spotted him kneeling down.

    "No, she's in here. His body is on top of hers. Get them out."

    "Both? But the guy said he only wanted the girl."

    The smaller man, obviously the brains in the operation, sighed impatiently. "We can't get to the girl until we get his body off of hers."

    "What if he isn't dead?"

    "We've got guns, moron. If he didn't die in that crash, we'll shoot him. But I seriously doubt either survived."

    More shuffling of feet. He felt hands under either side of his arms before the man gave him a quick jerk. His shoulder popped.

    He clenched his teeth against the pain. Another jerk-
OhJesusGod
that hurt-and the man had David's limp body out of the wreckage. He dragged him away from the car and dropped him face down in the dirt and underbrush. He then walked back and knelt down to pull Charis out.

    He pushed at the ground, desperate to get up, to fight off these dickheads and save Charis. Shaking, weak, he fell to the ground. Damn it. Physically, he just didn't have anymore to give. He was in serious danger of passing out any second. Any excursion on his part hurt like hell and pushed him to the border of unconsciousness. Even blinking took effort.

    "You got her?"

    "Yeah. She isn't dead, but he's going to be pissed when he sees that lump on her head."

    "He said to make sure she didn't get hurt," the third one finally spoke.

    "Too bad," the smaller one barked. "For only twenty Gs, he's lucky she's in this good of shape. Now go get the ATV so we don't have to carry her back up the hill. He said to meet him in half an hour."

    No! Dizzy and exhausted, he tried to push himself up again. His mouth watered as his throat worked to purge the contents of his stomach. He swallowed over and over until the urge to vomit passed.

    The sound of the ATV caught his attention. The bigger of the men stopped something that looked like a small truck, flatbed and all, right next to Charis, who still lay motionless on the ground. Together the three men loaded her into the back of the ATV.

    Nooo! He blinked them back into focus and struggled to get up. It felt like they parked that damn ATV on his back.

    "We need to get to the truck. Let's go." The smaller one jumped into the passenger's seat of the ATV, the third in the back with Charis.

    David tried to shout out, to get their attention. Anything to get them to stop. "Hey!" It came out barely above a whisper.

    One knee. Then the other. Okay. Still on his elbows, but at least up on his knees, he pushed himself, ignoring the excruciating pain in his shoulder. He lost his balance as the sudden onset of vertigo sent the entire hillside spinning.

    Not able to control his throat he became violently, and quite audibly, ill. He tried to swallow it down, but he just kept retching. When he finally fell back down, he rolled to his back and looked up.

    Right into the barrel of a rifle. The third man shook his head as he cocked the gun.

    "No," David grunted and reached for the gun. He seemed to be moving in slow motion.

    The man easily moved before he even came close to touching it. "Sorry, man. I'll make it quick." He raised the rifle up to David's forehead.

    
"Charis."
Her name fell from his lips just as the crack of the shot sounded, echoing through the air.

    Then nothing.

    

    

    "Snyder?"

    "Oh man, he looks like shit."

    "Shut up, man. He can hear you."

    "So? It isn't like he's in any shape to do anything about it."

    Dead. He had to be dead. He
had
to be. No way could he have dodged a bullet to the frontal lobe point blank. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the two ugly mugs of Rich and Ron Neely.

    Not only was he dead, he was in Hell.

    "Wha-" He blinked his gaze into focus.

    "You fainted," Ron stated quite cheerily. The bastard.

    He grunted and closed his eyes. "Did not."

    "Yes," Rich joined in, equally as cheery. "You did."

    Opening his eyes slowly, he looked up at them. "Passed...out." He held in a groan as another wave of nausea hit him. No doubt he had a concussion, and a pretty good one at that. "There's...a difference." He closed his eyes again. Keeping them open just took too much damn effort. "What happened?"

    "You don't remember?" He couldn't tell which one said it, and didn't give a shit.

    Knowing better than to shake his head, he grunted his answer. He remembered a car. A gunshot. Rolling over and over and over. Three men.

    Charis.

    They took her. He tried to sit up. It didn't take much effort for the two men to hold him down. "Let...go."

    "Dude, you are seriously hurt," Ron stated. "You need to get to a hospital."

    "They've got her." Son-of-a-bitch. After everything he'd done to protect her, he'd failed. Surreal still took her
literally
right out from under him.

    "We figured as much. After Rich blew the head off the guy ready to do the same to you, the others took off on that ATV. We couldn't shoot or we might have hit McKoy."

    "You let them get away?" He found the strength to sit up and lean back against the tree behind him. He pushed up to his feet, staggered, then straightened.

    Holy shit. He felt like he'd just been hit by a freight train at top speed. The entire scene shifted and he swayed to stay upright. Focusing on the car to hold the rest of the world in one place, he gave a shudder. It
looked
like he'd been hit by a freight train at top speed. His gut wrenched.

    "Get me to a phone." He started up the hill, ignoring the way his legs shook to hold his weight. He had to call in for backup. Surreal had Charis. The shitbird had her.

    The Neely brothers helped him to the top of the hill. It took over twenty minutes to reach the top. He had to stop several time to ward off the threat of passing out again, and puked twice. By the time they crested the top the cavalry had arrived. Rigs of every shape and size surrounded the scene everywhere. Two huge SUV's blocked the road on either side of them.

    Weber stepped out of the latest arriving rig before it came to a full stop. He hurried over to David. After giving him a quick once over, he rested his gaze on his midsection. "You're bleeding."

    "You're late."

    The steady bap-bap-bap of helicopters pulled his attention to the sky. Three NASSD birds shined an undeniable force as they flew into sight. The one in the lead lowered down. The wind from the blades kicked grass and leaves everywhere. He squinted to see through it all. The cold wind stiffened up what mobility he had left in his shoulder.

    As the bird landed, Weber looked at him. "We placed a tracking device in the button of McKoy's pants. Yours, too. When you two didn't show at HQ as expected, I activated them."

    "That means," he paused to take a breath and gather enough strength to finish, "Surreal can track me, too."

    Weber grinned. "Nope. The Gadget Master came through for us once again. He created tracking devices that work on some frequency that can only be picked up by the monitor matched to the device. It's pretty ingenious."

    
Thank you, Pedro
. David felt some of his strength returning. If he could just get his brain to focus, his sight to clear, and for the world around him to stop spinning, he'd be fine. Just damn fine.

    "Are you up for this?" Weber yelled to be heard over the noise of the rotors.

    David eyed the bird on the ground. Up for what? If it had anything to do with finding Charis, then hell yeah he was up for it.

    "I'm giving you something I never had." He opened his arm and motioned toward the bird on the ground. In the sky. The rigs. The people.

    The entire cavalry.

    David blinked at him. "Are you shitting me?"

    "I owe you one. Here it is. Now we're even."

    "Weber, I don't know what to say." His admiration for his director-his best friend-swelled.

    Weber's lip twitched. "I know. Go get your girl, my friend."

    He didn't need to be told twice.

    

    

    It felt cold. Little goose bumps washed over her. Charis blinked her eyes open and into focus as best she could without her glasses. Wiggling her fingers and toes to make sure she didn't have any spinal injuries, she sighed in relief when all twenty wiggled as commanded.

    Where was she? Judging by the bed, she must be in a hospital, which would make sense after the accident. Why did they have the heat so low? She'd catch a cold at this temperature. Not good in a hospital.

    She moved to sit up. The dizziness took over and pushed her back down. The way her head throbbed, she must have suffered some type of concussion during the wreck. Lord knows she hit her head enough times, despite David's attempt to protect her.

    David.

    Forcing past the vertigo, she sat up. Shivering, she reached for the blanket. Huh. It wasn't at the foot of the bed. In fact, she didn't even have a sheet to cover her. No wonder shivers kept shaking through her. After all, the silky negligee did nothing to keep her warm.

    Silky negligee? Slowly, she lowered her eyes to her frame. Okay, she knew hospital gowns were flimsy, but a black teddy was not part of the dress code. Looking around, she realized she wasn't in a hospital at all.

    It looked more like a warehouse. Big. Open. Dark. Colder than a welder's ass in a drift. Or was that a well digger's ass? Drift or draft? Curling her legs to her chest, she closed her eyes and lowered her head to her knees.

    "Oh good. You're awake. I've made tea."

    She brought her head up and focused on the man approaching her. As he came into focus, her pulse slowed.

    Oh shit.

    Surreal. And in his hands, a giant silver platter of tea and little finger sandwiches. "Surreal?"

    The tray in his hands started to shake, the cups clanking against the saucers. He smiled, though the gesture did not reach his eyes. "I told you not to call me that."

    "Sorry," she hurried out. Always better to keep your capturer happy. Stay on their good side and all that. "Thomas."

    "Better." He set the tray down on a small table and poured a cup of the steaming liquid. "One lump? Or two?"

    She felt like she had at least four. "None for me thanks. I like my tea straight."

    He paused, the sugar cube between his fingers, his gaze on her face. Lowering his eyes to the tea, he dropped the cube in, then another. "You can't fool me, my love. I know how you like your tea. I've been making it for almost five years now. You like it sweet." He brought his gaze back up to her and smiled. "Just like me."

    
Okaaay.
So his grasp on reality had gone bye-bye. "Thomas, listen to me. I haven't even
seen
you in five years."

    His smile seemed frozen as he started to stir the tea in the cup. "I know you don't like milk in it."

    "Thomas?"

    "Perfect." He held the cup out for her.

    "Listen to me. I don't want tea. You and I-"

    "Are back together," he finished.

    "No." She shook her head. It hurt, but under the circumstances, it was the least of her worries. "We aren't."

    "We are."

    "We were
never
together!"

    "That's not true!" He jumped back and threw the table over, spilling the tea and finger sandwiches all over the floor. She jumped, startled from the sudden change in his mood. "
He
did this to you.
He
brainwashed you into believing that. Charis, sweetheart." He hurried over to the bed and sat down before taking her hand in his. She tried to pull away but he wouldn't let go.

    "It's okay now. You're safe."

    She somehow doubted that.

    "You won't ever have to see him again."