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Authors: Elle James

Tags: #Contemporary romantic suspense, #Harlequin Intrigue, #Fiction

Taking Aim (16 page)

BOOK: Taking Aim
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“Jacie.” Tracie spoke quietly. “We’ve got trouble.”

* * *

T
HE
EXPLOSION
ROCKED
the ground beneath Zach.

Shots rang out in the distance.

Zach prayed the guards hadn’t found Richard and Humberto. For a moment, he second-guessed his decision to bring them along. They weren’t trained in these kinds of operations.

Pushing aside his concern for the two men, Zach inched around the side of the small building. He stayed in the deep shadows cast by the fire growing in the barn. The grenade did its job and set the building ablaze. It wouldn’t take long to burn to the ground. The ancient timbers would be easily consumed.

A man raced by, sporting an M110 similar to the one Zach carried. Where had the man gotten the American weapon?

As soon as he passed, Zach ran to the next building.

A motorcycle revved and took off out of the melee, a man wearing a black bandana and a black mask heading north, lights extinguished.

Above, thunder boomed in the night and the first drops of moisture splattered the earth.

More shots were muffled by the descending clouds.

Behind Zach, the fire grew, undaunted by a few drops of rain and building in heat and intensity. Chaos reigned.

Banking on the confusion, Zach pushed through the door of the small outbuilding. Light shone through the windows from the barn’s fire. The building contained boxes and burlap sacks, but no people. With only the ranch house remaining, Zach steeled himself. He quit the smaller outbuilding and raced across the grounds.

As he neared the house, a man leaned out over the deck, his weapon pointed toward Zach.
“Que hay de nuevo?”

Zach didn’t bother answering; he shot the man and dove for the shadows, rolled to his feet and rounded the corner to the back entrance.

Another guard leaped off the back porch, heading straight for Zach.

Zach didn’t give him the opportunity to ask who was there. A single bullet pierced the man’s chest, downing him where he stood, leaving the back door unprotected. Zach sucked in a deep breath and nudged the door open with the nose of his rifle.

As soon as he pushed through, he dodged to the left, out of the backlight from the burning barn. He’d entered through the kitchen. If they had the women in this house, they’d be in the living room or locked in one of the bedrooms.

Zach moved from room to room. Above the shouts and rumbling of thunder, Zach heard low thumps and scraping sounds. He headed toward the sound, stopping at a corner. There it was again. The bumping, scraping sound.

Crouching low and staying as much in the shadows as he could, Zach peeked around the wall.

Bound to chairs, Tracie and Jacie sat back to back. He recognized Jacie by the clothes she’d been wearing earlier. She faced him. A man lay sprawled across the floor. He looked vaguely like Bruce, only banged up. Standing in the front door was a large Hispanic man, wielding a semiautomatic rifle aimed at Tracie’s chest. If he pulled the trigger at this close range, the bullet would cut right through Tracie and lodge in Jacie, killing both women.

His heart skipped several beats and the world whirled around him. Images of a similar style of torture flashed through him. Toni being beaten by the men of Los Lobos while he remained tied to a beam, powerless to help her.

His breathing grew shallow, his hands clammy. The hopeless feeling washing over him made his hands shake, crippling him.

“Let her live,” Jacie begged. “Kill me if you must, but let my sister live.”

Jacie’s words rang out, cutting through the fog of Zach’s memories. She wasn’t Toni. Zach wasn’t helpless this time. His heartbeat settled into a smooth, deadly rhythm, his hands growing steady.

Zach refused to let Jacie die. He wanted more time with the woman who’d brought him back to life—the woman who marched bravely into battle and who wouldn’t give up on her sister or on him.

He tipped the nose of his rifle around the corner and lined up the sights.

Jacie’s eyes rounded when she spotted him.

Zach pulled the trigger.

Chapter Sixteen

Another shot rang out.

Bruce jerked on the floor beside Jacie and moaned. Blood pooled on the floor beside him.

A loud thump was followed by a shout from the doorway.

Jacie scooted her chair halfway around so that she could see what was happening.

Zach leaped past her to the front door.

The cartel man with the wounded leg had thrown himself off the front porch into the dirt, yelling at the top of his voice.

More La Familia gang members
came running toward the house.

Zach stepped back and closed the door. He yanked a blood-encrusted knife from a scabbard on his thigh.

“Look out, Jacie!” Tracie cried. “He’s got a knife.”

“It’s okay. He’s a good guy,” Jacie reassured her.

Zach sliced through Jacie’s bindings and then Tracie’s. “We have to get out of here before they surround us.”

Jacie leaped from her chair and steadied herself on Zach’s arm.

Tracie was not so fast, having been starved for the days she’d spent in captivity and beaten on multiple occasions. She stumbled to her feet and pitched forward.

Jacie and Zach grabbed for her before she fell to the floor.

Zach looped Tracie’s arm over his shoulder, then tossed his pistol to Jacie.

She caught it and aimed it at the front door as Zach half dragged, half led her sister to the rear of the house.

“What about Bruce?” Tracie asked.

“Leave him. He’ll slow us down,” Zach said.

Jacie hated Bruce for what he’d gotten her sister into, but she knew what his fate would be if they left him with La Familia. “They’ll kill him if we leave him.”

Jacie followed Zach, inching backward, her gaze trained on the front of the house, torn between helping the man and getting out alive.

At any moment, La Familia Diablos could storm the house to find the people responsible for their buddy’s commotion. They’d find Bruce, blame him and finish him off.

“I can’t leave him. He’s still alive.” Jacie stopped backing up.

“He’s not worth it,” Zach insisted. “He’s a traitor to his country.”

“Yeah, but let the courts sentence him. Not La Familia.” Jacie took a step back the way she’d come.

“No, Jacie! Zach’s right. Saving Bruce isn’t worth your getting shot.” Tracie dug in her heels and stopped herself and Zach.

“Don’t, Jacie. If anyone should go back, it should be me.” Zach reached out and grabbed her arm. “He’ll be heavy. You can’t lift him on your own. Get your sister out of here.”

Jacie chewed her lip. “No, I can’t let you go in there.”

“We don’t have time to argue about it. Take my gun and get Tracie out.” He looped Tracie’s arm over Jacie’s shoulder, pressed a kiss to Jacie’s lips. “I want a real date when we get back to sanity.”

Jacie’s heart turned a somersault and she grinned. “You got it. Don’t stand me up.” Her chest squeezed hard as Zach ducked past her and back into the front room.

Jacie forced herself not to think about what he might be facing. With Tracie leaning heavily on her, she hurried through the house to the back door.

“Wait.” Tracie laid her hand on the door, refusing to let Jacie go through. “There could be men outside the door. Check through the windows first.”

Jacie propped Tracie against the wall and crossed to the bare window, careful not to stand behind its glass. Although it was dark in the kitchen, she couldn’t take the chance of someone seeing her.

She eased her head around the window frame and peered out.

Men gathered in the yard between the barn and the house. Some faced the barn. They were talking and waving their hands at the flames leaping toward the sky, stirred by a strong crosswind.

One man faced the house. He spoke to another and pointed toward Jacie. She ducked back away from the glass, her pulse hammering. Had he seen her? Did it matter? With that many men standing out in the barnyard, they didn’t have a chance of sneaking out the back door.

“We have to find another way out.” Jacie helped Tracie into one of the bedrooms, eyeing the window on the far wall. It was on one of the house’s sides, out of view of the barnyard and the front yard. She checked out the window for movement. That side of the house was shrouded in shadows. She watched for a full thirty seconds. Nothing moved. “Think you can make it out this window?”

“It’s either that or die trying.” Tracie’s chin lifted. “I might need a boost from you.”

“You got it.” Jacie pushed and shoved the window, the old paint having congealed, sealing it shut. “I can’t get it open.”

Tracie slipped out of her shirt and handed it to Jacie. Her body was covered in deep purple bruises. “Wrap your arm with my shirt and break the glass.”

Jacie swallowed her anger at what the cartel had done to Tracie and did as her sister directed. She kicked the glass away, praying La Familia couldn’t hear the noise over the roar of the fire and the thunder of the approaching storm.

Using the shirt, Jacie cleared the glass from the windowsill. When it was safe enough, she shook out Tracie’s shirt.

Her sister put it on, wincing as she raised her arms over her head. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Not without Zach.” Jacie ran to the bedroom door, her gaze panning the empty hallway.

What was taking Zach so long? He should have Bruce and be back by now. So far no more shots had been fired close to the ranch house. Still, Jacie was worried.

Given the short amount of time she’d known Zach, she wasn’t sure why she was so concerned. Other than that he made her heart beat faster and his kisses curled her toes.

She waited another minute. When he didn’t appear in the doorway, Jacie returned to where her sister leaned against the wall. “We’re getting you out of here.” Jacie stooped to give her a boost.

“That’ll be a challenge.” Tracie raised her foot and stepped into Jacie’s cupped hands.

Jacie sagged under her sister’s weight, then pushed up with her knees and shoved Tracie through the opening. Her sister lodged halfway through, moaning as her ribs hit the windowsill.

“Hang on, I’m going to shove you out.” Jacie planted one of Tracie’s feet against her own shoulder and leaned into her, pushing her over the edge.

Tracie half slid, half rolled out, dropping to the ground onto the broken glass.

Jacie leaned out the window and whispered loud enough that Tracie could hear but the cartel couldn’t, “Okay out there?”

“Will be,” Tracie grunted, and righted herself, “as soon as you’re out here too.”

She hated leaving Tracie all alone. Not when her sister was so weak and barely able to hold herself up. “Lie low for a minute. I’ll be right back. I’m going to see what’s keeping Zach. Stay in the shadows.”

“No, Jacie!” she called out.

Jacie ran for the living room. Zach had lifted Bruce off the floor, and struggled to throw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“What are you doing in here?” Zach staggered under the other man’s weight and glared at Jacie. “I told you to get your sister out.”

“I did, but I thought you might need help.”

“Do you ever do what you’re told?”

“Quit arguing, mister. There’s a man headed this way.” She held her gun steady. “I’ve got you covered, first door on the left.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Zach sagged under Bruce’s deadweight. The man had been beaten to within an inch of his life and had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, but he still had a pulse. Much as he wanted to, Zach couldn’t leave him to die at La Familia’s hands.

He entered the bedroom.

Jacie entered behind him, closing the door.

Zach peered over the edge of the windowsill. “Tracie, move out of the way.” With no time to spare or take it easy on the injured man, Zach shoved Bruce through the window.

Tracie did her best to cushion his fall, ending up knocked to the ground for her efforts.

Then Zach nodded to Jacie. “You next.” He scooped her up and stuck her legs through the window. Jacie dropped to the ground as raindrops splattered across her cheeks.

“I think he’s dead,” Tracie mumbled.

Bruce lay at an awkward angle, his head cradled in her lap.

Jacie crouched beside the man and touched her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse.

It took a moment before she felt it. But it was there and very weak.

Zach hauled himself through the window and dropped to the ground. He ran to the back corner of the house and then to the front, returning with a sigh. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Which way?” Jacie asked.

A voice shouted from inside the house, and footsteps pounded across the wooden floors.

“Follow me and you’d better move fast.” Zach grabbed Bruce’s arms and yanked him up and over his shoulder. Then he ran due east, away from the house.

Jacie wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist and followed Zach into the shadows. The farther they moved away from the flames of the burning barn, the less likely anyone would see them.

Unfortunately they didn’t move fast enough to avoid detection.

A man called out behind them.

Zach dropped Bruce to the ground and shouted, “Get down!”

Bullets winged past them, kicking up plumes of dry Texas dust.

Jacie fell to a prone position at once, dragging Tracie down with her.

“What do we do now?” she cried. If they got up to run, whoever was shooting at them would have an easy target. But they couldn’t stay glued to the ground forever. Soon others of La Familia would join the shooter. It wouldn’t be long before Zach, Jacie, Tracie and Bruce were full of lead.

“Now would be a good time for the backups to show,” Zach muttered.

“We have backup?” Tracie asked.

“In a perfectly timed world, we would, but given the weather, I’m not sure the FBI and DEA can get the helicopter off the ground.”

As if to emphasize Zach’s point, the wind whipped across Jacie’s face, twisting her hair.

Bruce lay beside Jacie, his eyes blinking open. “Tracie?”

“No, I’m Jacie,” Jacie corrected.

“I’m here.” Tracie took his hand and held it, tears shimmering in her eyes as she stared into Bruce’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Bruce coughed, spitting out blood. “Please forgive me.”

“For almost getting me and my sister killed?” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, you did.” The tears were flowing in earnest by now from swollen, bruised eyes. “I trusted you and you lied to me.”

“I wanted out,” he whispered. “But I knew too much. You have to believe me.”

“You had two DEA agents killed.” Tracie’s hand smoothed over Bruce’s face. “Where was the mercy? I don’t even know you anymore.”

“I’m still the same person,” he insisted.

“You’re not the same man I fell in love with.”

“I didn’t...” Bruce’s voice gurgled, as if his lungs were taking on liquid. “I didn’t order those two men killed.”

“Then who did?” Tracie demanded, leaning up.

The man in the house fired on them, the bullet hitting the dirt in front of Jacie’s face, kicking it up into her eyes. She blinked and rubbed the sand out.

Bruce’s eyes closed, his breathing growing shallower.

“Don’t you die on me.” Tracie shook the man, tears flowing freely down her dirt-streaked cheeks. “The least you can do is tell me who is behind all of this.”

“He’s powerful,” Bruce whispered.

“Was he the one interrogating us?” Tracie sucked in a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Too dangerous...FBI...can make people disappear.”

“What do you mean?” Zach asked.

“Hank’s wife and son...” Bruce’s body shuddered and he coughed up more blood, and then settled back against the earth, his face creased in a grimace of pain.

“What does he have to do with Hank’s family?” Zach demanded.

Bruce inhaled, the gurgling sound more pronounced. “Still alive.”

“Where?” Zach grabbed the man by the collar.

Bruce’s eyes blinked open, found Tracie’s and they closed. “I loved you,” he said, the words released on his last breath. His body went slack.

Tracie leaned her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “Damn you, Bruce. Damn you for everything.”

Jacie’s heart ached at her sister’s distress.

Bruce had made some big mistakes. He’d betrayed his country and betrayed Tracie, but deep down had never stopped loving her.

Though tears welled in her eyes, Jacie refused to let them fall. She couldn’t dwell on Bruce’s mistakes, not when they were pinned to the ground, unable to move for fear of being hit.

Shouts rose from the barnyard. Flames climbed higher into the descending clouds.

Zach glanced over his shoulder and sighed. “I believe the cavalry has arrived.”

Headlights shone in the distance from half a dozen vehicles. The advancing army had the remaining La Familia members scrambling for motorcycles and jeeps.

The man who’d pinned them apparently didn’t know he was being surrounded and kept shooting random shots—some bullets hitting far too close for comfort.

Zach’s cavalry pulled in to the ranch compound and skidded to a stop in the gravel. Doors flung open and men wearing flak vests and carrying guns poured out. The remaining cartel thugs were quickly killed or held up their hands in surrender.

As the last man standing, their sniper suddenly stopped shooting and spun, his weapon now aiming for whoever had entered the room behind him.

Two shots were fired. The sniper slammed against the windowsill and tipped out onto the gravel below. Another face appeared in the glassless window. A man wearing a dark cowboy hat instead of the dark gear of the FBI.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Hank must have sent in his guys as well as the FBI. If I’m not mistaken, that was Ben.” After a moment Zach stood. “I think that was our cue. Come on, let’s see if they brought a medic.” He reached down to grab Jacie’s arm, hauling her to her feet.

Jacie touched her sister’s shoulder. “We have to go.”

“Go without me,” Tracie said, her voice catching on a sob.

“Can’t.” Jacie shook her head. “You’re a part of me. You’re my sister. I could never leave you behind.”

Tracie slid Bruce’s head from her lap and pushed to a kneeling position. “Why did he have to go and be an idiot and play both sides?”

BOOK: Taking Aim
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