A Merciful Promise

by Elliot, Kendra

  Mercy had dropped eye contact after her bold statement, waiting for his judgment. He’d either assign her to clean the toilets or he’d see the logic.

  She was betting he was a logical man.

  “Did you know we have a pregnant woman?”

  Her gaze flew to his. “Yes. Cindy. Very pregnant.”

  “Can you handle a birth?”

  I don’t want to.

  “I’ve never attended a birth, and I have absolutely no confidence in handling a delivery that develops issues. A million things can go wrong.” Mercy pictured the exhausted woman. “She needs to see a doctor. Her blood sugar should have been tested, and her blood pressure needs to be monitored. These don’t sound important, but they can reveal hidden deadly problems for the mother or baby.”

  His lips twisted up on one side. “You sound like you’d rather handle a gunshot wound than a birth.”

  Mercy thought for a long second. “I would,” she admitted.

  Pete rubbed his forehead. “I’ll think some more on the pregnancy, and I’ll have the quartermaster pull all the medical supplies, but I’ll decide where they should be kept.” His eyes grew stern. “I expect economy with the supplies.”

  “That’s the only way I operate.” Pride filled her. She’d gotten through to the commander on her first day here. Maybe he’s not so bad.

  “You can go.” He waved a hand at the door.

  Mercy turned away.

  Guns. I’m supposed to uncover missing guns and the plan to hurt the ATF.

  She had to keep the mission’s goal at the forefront of her thoughts and not be distracted by hugely pregnant women or misogynists.

  Chad gripped Mercy’s hand as he walked her back to the women’s cabin. Ed had been gone when she stepped out of Pete’s office, and Chad had looked stressed. He leaned close as they strolled. “Everything okay?” he asked almost silently.

  She gave him a look of adoration, wondering if anyone was watching. “Yes. I actually made some headway in convincing Pete that he should take my advice in medical situations. But I’m not here to bandage cuts. What have you found out?”

  Chad stopped her in the center of the compound, many yards from any building, and cupped his hand against her cheek. “Rumors. All I hear are rumors. But I’ve heard more frequent references to a ‘big plan.’ I don’t know if that means a camp barbecue or a militia action.” He gave her a long kiss.

  Mercy’s mind raced, ignoring the lips pressing against hers. “You haven’t seen the stolen guns? Or come across any explosives?” she asked after coming up for air.

  He rested his forehead on hers. “No. I’ve been in the armory. There’s nothing in there to raise eyebrows, and frankly it’s a lot smaller than I expected for the number of people here. When we drill, there aren’t enough weapons for all the men, let alone the women.”

  “Does Pete carefully regulate who gets to handle a gun?”

  “He does. During the drills the newer recruits aren’t allowed a gun. On a regular day, the patrols and lieutenants are the only ones who are armed.”

  “Do you think they were behind the ATF weapons robbery eight months ago?”

  “I haven’t been able to confirm that.”

  Mercy frowned. People talked. Especially this many people in close quarters. Chad should have heard something. “But you heard mentions of a plan.”

  “Actually I’ve only overheard things,” he clarified. “No one has talked directly to me about it.”

  “Don’t they trust you?”

  He restarted their slow walk across the compound. “No one is trusted at first. They’ll watch every move you make for the first month—”

  “Month?” The loud word slipped out. “I’m not staying here a month,” she whispered.

  “You’re here as long as it takes.” Chad’s emphatic words were nearly soundless.

  Images of Truman and Kaylie spun through Mercy’s head. They don’t know where I am.

  “Do you have a family?” she whispered.

  “I’m not answering that, and don’t tell me anything about yourself. We are Chad and Jessica. Nothing else.”

  In case they were caught and tortured. Neither of them would have information about the other.

  He doesn’t even know I’m FBI.

  “You have a satellite phone somewhere?” She suddenly felt very vulnerable. Few people knew where she was, and she had no way to contact the outside world.

  He nodded. “Buried far outside of the compound. I’ll show you where it is once they relax your surveillance.”

  The surveillance that he’d said would last a month. Her hands ached to hold a phone. A lifeline to the real world.

  “Pete runs this camp on fear,” Chad added. “And it works well. They’re scared.”

  “But supportive.” Vera’s devotion to Pete popped into her mind.

  “Absolutely. They talk about him like he’s a god.”

  “What type of people are his lieutenants?”

  Chad let go of her hand and put an arm around her shoulders as they walked. “From what I’ve gathered, men he’s known for years.”

  “Former law enforcement?” Mercy remembered the stance of the guard in the mess hall.

  “Or military. But even they don’t question Pete—not that I’ve seen, anyway. Don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. Those four lieutenants are the only men he meets with.”

  “We need to get you into one of those positions,” Mercy whispered. “That would mean eliminating one of the lieutenants—an accident or maybe an injury.”

  Chad shook his head. “I wouldn’t be next in line.”

  “We can present you as indispensable. The mechanical skills are helpful to the group, but what could you do to show this place needs you?” An idea struck her. “Turn in a member for a disloyalty?”

  “Everyone toes the line here,” Chad said.

  “Then we set him up.”

  He shuddered. “I don’t know. I don’t want someone physically punished.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’re ruthless.”

  She didn’t want to spend months in the compound waiting for something to happen.

  “We might have to prod a few people to get things moving.”

  Chad halted and turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders, his eyes hard. “You need to dial it back. You’re going to get both of us killed. I’ve seen how these people operate, and when something goes wrong—or is assumed to have gone wrong—the punishment is swift and severe.”

  Mercy looked from one of his eyes to the other, a small chill starting at the base of her spine. “How severe?”

  His mouth flattened, his eyes bleak. “I’ve seen men whipped . . . nearly to death.”

  Mercy couldn’t speak.

  “One of them was transported to the hospital. He didn’t come back.”

  “Dead?” Her voice cracked.

  “We were told he was expelled from the group. I don’t know if I believe that.”

  The chill fully encased her spine, and she shuddered.

  “Do you understand now?”

  She gave a short nod.

  “You think you got through to Pete, but I know he will not trust you until you’ve proven yourself over time. Do not trust him. Trust no one.”

  Does that include you?

  An earlier thought returned: Chad’s lack of intel for the amount of time he’d lived in the camp. And he hadn’t told her where the satellite phone was yet.

  The seed of doubt was sown.

  Dammit.

  She no longer trusted her partner.

  TEN

  After tossing and turning all night, Mercy followed Vera through the morning chill to see the rest of the camp. She’d worn her heaviest coat and pulled on a knit pink hat in response to the temperature. The “dorm” had been freezing the entire night, and her racing thoughts wouldn’t let her sleep. Her brain was occupied with Pete and Chad. And her family.

  Visions of Truman, Kaylie, a
nd even Ollie had crept in and berated her for not telling them the truth. She’d followed orders by keeping the mission silent, but now she wondered if she was in over her head. It felt as if she had started at the beginning of an investigation instead of joining Chad at the tail end. The ATF had given her the impression that it was almost ready to wrap things up.

  Or did Carleen stretch the truth?

  She shuddered to think that the agent had been dishonest in order to recruit Mercy.

  They seemed desperate.

  As Vera led her up a steep hill, Mercy shoved the thoughts into a corner of her mind to analyze later. There was no point in obsessing over something that had already happened. Her goal was to find out what Pete had planned, discover where the stolen weapons were being stored, and get the hell out. She’d established herself to Pete as someone who had a bit of spine, and she needed to find the balance between being a subordinate and being someone with ideas worth listening to. Rocking the boat would not be acceptable here.

  She frowned at Vera’s back, watching her put one foot in front of the other, puffs of dusty, dry dirt rising with every step. Vera was potentially Mercy’s biggest source of information. The key was to ask questions that would seem normal for a new recruit. “Do you know when I’ll be able to move in with Chad?” Mercy asked.

  Vera stopped her climb, slightly winded, and gave Mercy a hard stare. “When it’s time. Our facilities aren’t ready overnight. Takes work. Elbow grease. It’s not like we have furnished apartments ready for you to move into. Currently all the construction is focused on a special project. Once that is done, the cabins will get more work.”

  Mercy lowered her gaze. “Okay. We’ve been apart for a long time.”

  Vera snorted. “Haven’t gotten any in a while, have you? You’re better off finding a spot against a tree trunk.” A scornful glare filled her face. “Watch out for the bark. It’s pretty rough.”

  Seriously? “It’s more than that . . .”

  “Your first commitment is to the group as a whole. Family is second.” She looked down at Mercy. “You two aren’t married, so he doesn’t qualify as family.”

  “He’s all I’ve got.”

  Vera resumed her walk up the slope. “You’re best off learning not to lean on one person. This is the perfect place to do that. Our community is successful because everyone pulls their weight.” She grunted. “Almost everybody.”

  “I can’t see Pete tolerating laziness,” Mercy prodded.

  “He doesn’t. Didn’t he tell you about the thirty-day trial period? Everyone shows their true colors within that time.”

  “He told me. Has he kicked many people out?”

  Vera glanced back at her, her expression unreadable. “A few. Others choose to leave. Those who prove themselves are rewarded.”

  Mercy hadn’t seen anything that constituted a reward in the camp. “What do you mean?” Her stomach twinged as she wondered if women were expected to “offer” the rewards.

  “Pete values dedication. Commitment.” Vera held out her hand as if to offer a fist bump. Mercy was startled at the friendly gesture and started to raise her hand in return when Vera pointed to a spot on the back of her wrist. “See that?”

  A pink circle stood out against Vera’s sun-aged skin. It was about an inch and a half in diameter, slightly bumpy and raised.

  A brand. Mercy caught her breath, the burning pain unimaginable to her.

  “Did Pete do that to you?” Mercy whispered.

  Pride shone in Vera’s eyes. “Yes. Only a few of us have earned it. The circle represents our group. Never ending. Continuity. One smooth movement.”

  Mercy couldn’t speak.

  A rapid flare of anger appeared in Vera’s eyes as she caught the force of Mercy’s shocked gaze. “You’re new. This is an honor. You’ll understand in time—or you won’t.” She spun around and continued her hike. Mercy moved her feet automatically, one after the other, her brain struggling to process what she’d just seen, her hand automatically rubbing the back of her wrist.

  Pete marked his people. And they valued it.

  Like a cult?

  She couldn’t picture Chad’s wrists, but she was pretty sure she’d noticed a mark on Ed’s.

  I’d have noticed if Chad had the brand. Right?

  Nausea swamped her as she imagined being offered the “honor.” Would she accept? Had Chad already been forced into that decision?

  They reached the top of the hill and descended a short way to a flattened area. Several pens with small makeshift sheds dotted the clearing. A few goats ventured out of one of the sheds to stare at the newcomers.

  “The kids take care of the chickens and goats,” Vera said as she opened the gate to one pen. A large henhouse sat in a corner, and Mercy wasn’t surprised the chickens were staying inside, out of the cold. The coop door swung open, and two children stepped out. Three children, Mercy corrected herself as she spotted a ghost of a tiny girl behind a small boy. The taller blonde girl held a large basket full of eggs. She was a teenager, maybe sixteen, not a child. Her blue stare was direct and discerning, and felt shrewd beyond her years. In a split second, her eyes disclosed a lifetime of hard living and cynicism. Her two small sidekicks darted behind her to cautiously peer out at Mercy.

  Their gazes were of pure innocence. And apprehension.

  The teenager turned her head to look at the children, and Mercy recognized her profile. She was the one Mercy had spotted hiding in the dorm when Vera spoke to Cindy.

  Someone is sneaky.

  The teen immediately topped Mercy’s list of people to prod for information.

  “Eden. This is Jessica,” Vera announced. “Behind Eden is her brother, Noah, and Olivia is Sadie’s girl.” In a lower voice to Mercy she said, “Eden and Noah don’t have a mother.”

  “Good morning,” Mercy said, meeting the teenager’s eyes square on.

  “You’re the nurse?” Eden asked, her wide gaze cautious. She had a navy knit cap pulled low on her head, and her blonde hair reached past her shoulders. Her jacket was several sizes too big, and the children’s coats hung sloppily, oversize for their tiny frames.

  “Yes.” Mercy mentally apologized to every nurse she’d ever met for the subterfuge. It’d been only two days, and she was already tired of the lie.

  Eden pulled Noah out from behind her. “He’s hot.” The boy appeared to be five or six and completely exhausted.

  Noah didn’t look up at Mercy. She crouched beside him and pushed back his hood, immediately feeling an unnatural heat radiate from him. “Hi, Noah. How old are you?” His cheeks were flushed, and his forehead felt very hot to Mercy’s inexperienced hand.

  “He doesn’t talk,” piped up Olivia beside him. “He’s five.” She clutched the boy’s hand. “I’m six,” she added proudly.

  “Thank you, Olivia.” Mercy glanced at Eden, who nodded in agreement with Olivia. “How long has he been hot?”

  “Two days,” Eden said. “I told Sadie, but she said he would be fine.”

  “Does your throat hurt, Noah?” Mercy asked. The boy finally raised his eyes but shook his head. “Do you mind if I look at your stomach?”

  “Why?” Eden asked sharply.

  “To check for a rash.” Is there something she doesn’t want me to see?

  Worries about child abuse flooded Mercy. If they brand the adults . . .

  Noah looked up at his sister, who nodded her permission. Mercy gently unzipped his jacket and lifted his thin T-shirt to examine his stomach and back. No bruises, no rash. But he needed a bath. “Any other symptoms?” Mercy asked. “Vomiting, diarrhea?”

  Both Noah and Eden shook their heads.

  Mercy studied the boy for a moment. “Noah, do your ears hurt?” His wide gaze flew to hers, and he touched his right ear.

  Aha. Listening to Rose talk about the fevers and illnesses of her preschool kids had paid off.

  Mercy stood. “He doesn’t talk, but does he hear okay?” she asked Eden.

  �
��Oh yes. He can hear the chipmunks and mice before I do.” She ran a hand through her brother’s shaggy hair. “The talking thing is new,” she said softly. “He spoke before.”

  “Before what?” Mercy questioned.

  “Kids get fevers,” Vera cut in. “It’s normal.”

  Fury rocked Mercy. “He probably has an ear infection. He needs something for the fever and pain,” she said directly to Vera. “Just because adults can handle pain . . .” She dropped her gaze to Vera’s wrist. “It doesn’t mean children need to suffer. Especially when their pain is so simple to treat.”

  “You’ll have to ask Pete.” Vera sniffed.

  “You want me to interrupt Pete’s work with a question about a boy’s fever? Surely he has more important things on his plate. I think this is the kind of decision he wanted to delegate to someone in charge of medical. He said yesterday he’d have the quartermaster section out the medical supplies. I’ll get something for Noah from him.”

  Eden’s eyes were sharp as she followed the exchange.

  Mercy knew she’d overstepped. “I’m not challenging you, Vera,” she said in an earnest voice. “I’ve got a soft spot for kids, and when you combine that with an illness, it will make me jump into action.”

  Vera’s stubborn expression didn’t falter.

  Mercy tried again. “Every successful group needs to be healthy. I’m here to help keep everyone performing at their peak. We don’t want to be known as that group that denied health care to children,” she emphasized.

  The older woman’s cheek twitched.

  Over the past decade, several notorious cases had rattled the Northwest in which parents had denied basic health care to their children, leading to their deaths. The public uproar and subsequent legal battles had filled news headlines for months.

  “Leave this one to me,” Mercy said. “If someone gets in trouble for medicating Noah, it falls on me. Not you. It’s a chance I’m willing to take. My commitment is to the group as a whole.” She deliberately repeated Vera’s words from earlier.

  A small measure of respect flickered in the woman’s eyes. “As you wish.” She turned to Eden and inspected the basket of eggs. “Now. That looks like a good haul. Are the counts still going up?”