Sanctuary Forever WITSEC Town Series Book 5

by Lisa Phillips

  Sheriff Chandler didn’t take his attention from Dan. “Then that’s what they’ll have. Afterward we get on with our lives. With rebuilding this town to its former glory.”

  “What former glory?” Dan genuinely wanted to know what Chandler thought was so great about the way town used to be run. “We don’t get supplies from the military, or funding from the government. It’s all private now. What if the committee decides they aren’t going to give you any money?”

  Chandler said, “Where do you think your father hid all his money?”

  “How would I know?”

  “I do, and I persuaded him to give me access to it. So you see, we don’t need anyone’s help.”

  “Because you’re going to spend your own money buying toilet paper for the people who live in this town?” Dan didn’t think he was that benevolent.

  Mei let out a low moan. She shifted in her chair, and then her head came up. Her gaze swept the room and then zeroed in on Chandler. “We meet at last.”

  The mayor palmed a gun, walked across the room and pressed the gun against Mei’s thigh. He pulled the trigger.

  “Collins! What are you—” Dan made it two steps before the mayor lifted the gun and pointed it at him. He fired a shot at the floor in front of Dan that made his steps falter. He stopped.

  Mei gritted her teeth and cried out, her body taut like a wire. She pushed out a breath, turned her head to the side, and was sick on the floor.

  “She works for Ben Mason,” the mayor said. Then he turned to her. “Where is he?”

  Mei’s gaze lifted. “Who?”

  The mayor didn’t move. “Like you don’t know.”

  “Well he isn’t here.” Sweat rolled down Mei’s cheeks. “Because if he was, you’d be dead.”

  The sheriff smirked. Dan had to do something, the two of them and their rampage was out of control. But what? He had no weapon. No skills. All he could do was pray, but that didn’t stop the blood pooling from Mei’s leg onto the floor. How could she talk? How could she sit there?

  The mayor said, “I’m waiting for him. He’ll come.”

  Chapter 28

  John’s brushed off his brother’s hand and continued along the path toward town. “I’m fine.”

  Grant shot him a look that said he wasn’t convinced at all. John didn’t much care. They were back in Sanctuary, by parachute of all things. The landing hadn’t done his injuries any favors. John had blacked out for a minute and woke up to Grant shaking him and yelling. Now he just wanted to get this done and get to Andra. He had to take care of the town before he could find his family and make sure they were safe. For right now he was trusting God, and trusting in Andra’s ability and all the will she possessed to safeguard their kids and Aaron, to keep them safe, and out of harm’s way.

  He’d never prayed so much as he had since the second he realized the situation in Sanctuary was beyond his ability to take care of and that he needed help. God is my help. John had arrived here as a nonbeliever, and over the last two years had journeyed with every step toward the solid relationship he now had with the Lord. His Lord. Not just other people’s God. Jesus was now personal to him, and part of his life. And John didn’t understand everything about God and the Bible, but he believed.

  And that was a good thing, because they needed Him now more than ever. The future of Sanctuary was on the line, not just the people who lived here.

  His boot hit a rock, and he stumbled. Grant reached out and grabbed him, one arm around his waist. The motion shot pain through John’s torso, and he cried out.

  Grant jumped back. “Sorry. Sorry.”

  John put everything he felt into the look he sent his brother’s way. “We’re supposed to be keeping our voices down.”

  “I’m just trying to help.”

  “Well stop trying. Don’t worry about me, worry about all the people who’ve been stuck here with Chandler and the mayor the whole time I’ve been gone.”

  John started walking again, his flashlight bobbing on the gassy dirt beneath his feet. The temptation to go to Andra and forget the rest of the town was strong—which was why Ben put him on this side of town. He’d even thought about angling his parachute toward the cabin, even while he prayed she’d made it over there. The rest of them could take care of—

  John lifted his fist. Grant halted at the same time—he’d heard it, too. John studied the area around them, listening as intently as he could for what it was that he’d heard.

  A whistle, one long and two short. It wouldn’t mean much to anyone, but it was the signal he and Bolton had used during the last Battle Night. Bolton had gotten all-terrain wheels for his chair just so he could participate. Much to Nadia’s dismay. Though likely only because they were on different teams.

  He called out, “It’s John.” Grant reacted to his shout, but John slammed his arm across his brother’s chest to stall him. “It’s fine.” Always the big brother, finding fault with everything John did without asking questions so that he could understand.

  Bolton pushed out from behind the cover of the trees. His smile stretched wide. “It’s really good to see you, friend.”

  John strode over, and they shook hands.

  “You got shot. We all saw it.”

  John rubbed the spot on his chest where the bruise was a ripe blue color. “Broke a rib. Hurts like the dickens.”

  Bolton shook with laughter, though no sound emerged. “So you’re back?” He glanced at Grant and lifted his chin. “Ben here, too?”

  “The whole team.” Grant said. “Shadrach, Daire. And Malachi.” His disapproval of that was plain on his face.

  “Malachi?”

  John said, “You met him in Hawaii. He just called himself Colt.”

  “The biker dude?”

  John nodded. “There’s a story for you.”

  “You’re gonna want to tell me that story later.”

  “Deal.” Malachi—Colt—hadn’t been allowed to live in Sanctuary, but Ben had recruited the man for his team. “I’m ready to get to work.” John had to ask, though. “Have you seen Andra?”

  “She disappeared out of the Meeting House with the boys.”

  “Good.”

  “It was foolish. She should have stayed here. Safe.”

  “You think they’d have left her alone?” Especially with him gone. There was no way the sheriff and his army would have steered clear of her. They’d likely have harassed her. Which was why they’d formulated a plan for Andra to get the boys to safety. They’d agreed that while helping the town was a priority, it was better for her to make sure their family was safe than put them all on the line.

  Kind of like the plan he’d formulated with Bolton for precisely such an eventuality as the hostile takeover of the town. “Did you set everything up?”

  “You were dead. You know that, right?”

  “Does that mean you didn’t?”

  Bolton stared him down. “It means Major General Halt took it upon himself to put together a vigilante army to take back the town.”

  “Good,” John said. “That means we’re here just in time to help.”

  “The major general’s plan is in place, but there’s no way to communicate a change to any of them. None of us have radios.” Bolton glanced at his watch. “And I have one minute to get to Main Street since I already put my man down.”

  He wheeled the chair down the path a ways where they found a resident on his face, the back of his head bloody from what John figured was blunt force trauma. The man’s hands had been tied behind his back—his feet, too—and he was tethered to a tree. “How’d you reach up that high?”

  “I had the element of surprise on my side.”

  At Bolton’s words, Javier stepped out from between the trees. “Dad distracted him, and I hit him over the head.” He glanced at his father. “Coast is clear.”

  Bolton nodded, and John shook the boy’s hand. He knew it had been a long road for Javier to trust Bolton. Calling him “Dad” was a huge milestone.


  Grant leaned down and checked the man’s pulse with two fingers. “You didn’t kill him?”

  Javier blanched. Bolton shook his head. “We want the town back, but we don’t want anyone dead.”

  “I’ll let Ben know to expect additional clean-up and the transportation of detainees.” Grant clicked his radio and talked to their brother as he walked away from the group. John heard the conversation at low volume in his earphones.

  He turned back to Bolton. “Tell me what you know.”

  Bolton ran down the situation for him—though John had seen Dan with the old sheriff with his own eyes—and then said, “Now they’re holed up at the Meeting House. We think they’re waiting for something.”

  John nodded. “The sheriff wants a photo that was kept here, one the mayor didn’t find in Hal’s radio room. He’s supposed to deliver it to the people Dan’s father testified against.” John took a second to compose himself before he said, “He’s also supposed to kill anyone remaining alive who knows about Bill Jones and Hal Leonard and the CIA agents they brought down.”

  Bolton’s jaw muscle twitched. “We can’t let them kill Dan and Gemma.”

  “I know.”

  “But Dan’s with him, and I don’t even know where Gemma is. No one’s seen her.”

  “We have two priorities. Then we take back the town.” As soon as it was done he would find Andra and the boys.

  Whether Dan’s defecting to the sheriff’s side would be a problem or not, they still had a job to do. Lives to save.

  A town to take back.

  **

  Gun in hand, Gemma turned the corner behind the mayor’s place. What she should be doing was going to Terrence’s parents’ house. But putting a bullet in each of them wasn’t on her bucket list. Neither had it been on Gemma’s, which was why she’d held the gun on him but not fired that shot.

  She might have been discovered because of it, so she’d simply left him there. Discarded like the nothing he was.

  Gemma wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do now, but she could wave this thing around. She could confront the mayor, and get Mei back. Gemma wasn’t going to let the deputy sheriff get hurt on her account. She had a feeling there was a lot of good Mei could do in the world—even if that good was simply disposing of some bad.

  She’d never been flippant about killing before, but Gemma had lived in this town before. She didn’t figure it was much like the real world, and their lives were in danger now. If ever there were extenuating circumstances these were those.

  Mostly though, she figured that when it came down to it, she’d freeze up the way she always did. That was why she wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing. Gemma was going to put up what fight she could, and let God take care of the rest. Dan probably wouldn’t agree with that theology, but it was all she had right then. Hal had loved her, he’d given up nearly all that he had in order to make sure she was safe. To still be able to be close to her.

  What had she ever done for someone she cared about?

  She heard two people go in, and the screen door slammed behind them. This had to be a spot they were holed up, maybe even where they were keeping Mei. If she could slip in a window, she could get Mei out of here. Then the deputy could help her figure out a plan. All her brain seemed to want to do was go back over the words of her father’s letter. She ached to stop, pull it from her pocket and read his words over and over again. But she couldn’t. Not now when the town was in so much trouble.

  Inside, she could hear muffled voices. Gemma crept along the siding to the rear of the house. Maybe she could sneak in through the patio door and look around. If she was found she could play dumb, but it would be hard to come up with a plausible story when she had no idea what had been happening in town since she escaped from the Evangeline’s house.

  She still shuddered just thinking about what they’d been planning on doing with her. If she ran into them, it wasn’t going to be pretty—and it depended a whole lot on whether she was capable of killing them. She might want to. Her dad might have armed her. But pulling the trigger was another story altogether.

  “Come on. We’re going to miss dinner because you’re taking so long in there.”

  A toilet flushed, and a door lock clicked. “All right, all right. Keep your panties on.”

  Gemma figured she didn’t need to look in the frosted window. She wouldn’t see anything good, if she could make it out through the distortion. The front door opened and boots tromped down the front steps. Gemma held the gun in front of her, just in case they came around the back way, and then sprinted to the front of the house.

  Two younger men she’d never seen in the library strode toward town. Gemma waited until they were a good distance away, and then set out after them. If they turned she’d be seen, but she had to figure the dark and the distraction of impending dinner on her side.

  Main Street was quiet except for the lights and noise inside the Meeting House. Gemma ducked in the alcove of Sam’s gym and watched them go inside.

  “Guess I lucked out.”

  She spun, but he was too fast. A flat palm hit her forearm, and the gun skidded across the floor. She dashed away, got two steps, and he tackled her. Gemma hit the concrete with the man’s body on top of hers. He laid there, his breath hot on her ear while Gemma struggled. “Shame. No time to play.”

  The man hauled her to her feet. Gemma twisted and tried as hard as she could to get free of his grip. He marched her to the Meeting House and strode inside. “Lookie what I found creeping around outside.”

  The room was full, most of the men were sweating, and a couple looked very pale. Olympia stood by the kitchen door, hands twisted in her apron. Mei was tied to a chair, blood in a pool on the floor beneath her wet leg. Gemma broke out of the man’s grip and ran over. She touched Mei’s shoulder and her knee. The Chinese woman didn’t stir. Gemma twisted to the sheriff and yelled, “What did you do?”

  But it was Dan her gaze snagged on. Sitting in the corner where she hadn’t seen him.

  A gun to his head.

  He mouthed her name. The man with the gun grabbed Dan’s shirt over his shoulder and fisted it in his hand.

  Gemma stood, taking one step back on reflex. “What’s going on?”

  Okay, that was a dumb question. They were taking over the town. But why target Dan and Mei? There were much more important people in this town. People capable of fighting back. Why was Dan being held at gunpoint? Why did Mei look like she’d been tortured?

  Sheriff Chandler stood. He wobbled a little before he found his footing, but wiped his moist brow with his sleeve and walked over to her. “I was sent here with a task. One I think you might be able to help me with.”

  “Me?”

  Chandler nodded. “Your father had a photo Bill Jones retrieved from Saigon CIA base. The photo is a group of men. Agents. The remaining ones would like their identities to remain a secret.”

  “A bunch of old guys don’t want it to get out that they hired Bill Jones to kill people in Vietnam, or that they were in bed with Vietnamese drug dealers?”

  “Let’s put it this way,” Chandler said. “There are some constituents in two different states who would frown upon such things being revealed about their representative’s days as young men in Vietnam. Not to mention the ramifications if the Pentagon found out, and what would happen within the Justice Department.”

  “So they want a photo? That’s it?”

  “I get the town. They get the peace of mind their problem has been…resolved.”

  Yeah, they were going to kill her. And Dan. Probably Mei, too. If she wasn’t already dead. Gemma sniffed. “Fine. Let’s make a deal.”

  The mayor snorted. “You want to make a deal?”

  Gemma ignored him the way the sheriff was, and said, “That’s how these things work isn’t it? You get hired to do something. Well, I want to bargain as well.”

  The sheriff opened his mouth. He didn’t speak for a moment, but lifted his han
d and pressed it against his stomach. “I’m listening.”

  **

  What was she doing? More than one man had a gun pointed at Gemma. Papa, what are we going to do? Dan stood waiting for Gemma’s bargain. While thoughts rushed back and forth across her face, Dan prayed. The man beside the door leaned over and retched. Phil’s grip on Dan’s shirt loosened. He turned to the side and did the same. The gun lowered.

  Dan wasn’t going to waste an opportunity that Olympia’s actions had given him, but that he wasn’t going to discount God’s hand in. He twisted, grabbed the gun from the man’s hand, and punched Phil in the head. He dropped to the floor like a pile of hay.

  Dan spun to the room. Four guns pointed at him. Someone was sick, and at least two men moaned.

  “Enough!” The sheriff’s yell wasn’t directed at anyone, just the room in general. Then he turned to Dan. “Drop the gun.”

  “No way.”

  Gemma stood in the center. All the weapons in the room were either aimed at her, or would be in a matter of half a second.

  “Gemma, walk to me.”

  She ran over, grabbed his free hand, and moved around to stand behind him. Neither of them let go. From behind him, she said, “The town for the photo. I give it to you, and you leave them alone. Let them live in peace.” She paused a second. “And you get medical attention for Mei. Actually that’s my first condition.”

  Except that they had little leverage. If the sheriff decided he could protect himself from the former CIA agents who had sent him back here, he wouldn’t need to return the photo. Betrayal would mean they had nothing left he needed. The sheriff could simply order them all killed and set up the “new” Sanctuary he wanted without anyone willing to oppose him.

  Dan wasn’t willing for that to happen to the people who remained. A life of oppression wasn’t something he would wish on anyone. Not when he had intimate knowledge of what it was like to live under the rule of someone who wanted their way and would do anything to get it.