by Ciana Stone
Mathias looked at Riggs who spoke up. "An hour ago, my uncle received this." He pulled out his phone, pulled up something on the screen and handed it to Lincoln.
Lula looked at the screen as Lincoln hit the play button. Fear for Josie and Dillon swelled rapidly. The video showed them, each tied to a metal chair in front of a blank wall. Dillon looked at something off to one side then at something slightly below the camera lens.
"This message is for Senator Richard Walker. It's time to stand down. You have twelve hours to call a press conference. You will announce your retirement from the Senate and tell America that you have no intention of running for public office again. Should you elect not to take advantage of this opportunity, in thirteen hours you will receive another video, and you may rest assured that your next viewing will be far different. You'll bear witness to the torture of your nephew and the execution of his bodyguard. The clock starts now."
The screen went blank. Lula looked at Lincoln whose face wore an expression that scared her as much as what she'd seen on the video. He looked at the other men. "How long will it take for us to reach the location where they're being held?"
"Five and a half hours if we leave now," Riggs answered.
Lincoln nodded. "Less if we go by air. I need to call Wiley."
Everyone looked at Russell. "Do it," he agreed.
It took less than five minutes, and when Lincoln finished his phone call he addressed everyone in the room. "Wiley and I need an hour to assemble what we need. We'll meet at the private airfield outside of Rockridge in two hours."
He then looked at Lula. "With your permission?"
"You know you don't have to ask. Go save them."
Lincoln nodded. "Gentlemen, gear up. It's wheels up in two hours."
Riggs and Mathias nodded, and Riggs addressed his father. "We'll bring him home, Dad."
"In one piece, son. I want him in one piece."
"Yes, sir."
"Gentlemen, I can't, in good conscience, ask you to you this," Russell said to the other men. "However, know that if you choose to help our family, we will be in your debt and there will never be a favor too large you can ask of us."
"We'll bring him home, sir," Mathias said.
"Thank you." Russell stood and shook hands with Mathias and Lincoln. "Thank you."
"Thank us with a beer when we bring your boy home," Lincoln said and then smiled at Lula. "Keep the home fires burning, babe."
"You know it."
Once the men were gone, leaving Lula, Naomie and Russell sitting in the quiet, Lula looked at Russell. "I'm guessing you'd rather go with them."
"I would, but I trust them to do the job. And I have other irons in this fire I need to manage." He looked at Naomie. "I'll be in the car for a bit. I need to make some calls."
"Do what you need to do," she said and in a rare display of affection, reached to take his hand. "They'll get him, Mr. Walker. They'll bring Dillon home."
"I hope you're right." He squeezed her hand, then nodded at Lula. "Excuse me."
Lula and Naomie looked at one another. "You look like I feel," Lula said.
"Meaning?"
"Frustrated and useless and annoyed that we got left behind."
"Because you think we could ride in and save the day?"
"I think we'd both sure as hell rather be trying than sitting here waiting."
"Amen to that, but what do we know about rescue operations like this?"
Lula huffed out a breath. "Did anyone ever mention that you can be annoyingly right at times?"
Naomie smiled. "It might have been mentioned a time or two." She then sobered. "I know they'll do everything they can, but what about Josie? What do you think she'll do between now and the time they show up?"
"That's what scares me," Lula admitted. If she were in Josie's place, she'd know that she had twelve hours to either find a way to escape or at the least, try and get Dillon out. Because in twelve hours, if they were still prisoners, Josie was going to die.
*****
Josie had scoured every inch of the room. It had an old and scarred concrete floor, block walls, a huge roll down metal door, and an old-fashioned drop ceiling that was too high for her to reach, even standing on Dillon's shoulders. Based upon the size, shape, and stains on the floor, she guessed it to be an RV garage.
Little good that knowledge did her. She'd not found a way out other than trying to overpower whoever opened the door next and considering that six armed men stood outside the door last time as it rose, she doubted she'd get far with that idea.
No, she had to trust that at least one of her devices had registered a location and a security detail was en route.
"How long do you think it's been?" Dillon asked.
She turned to look at him. He was slumped against the wall, legs outstretched, and shoulders hunched. "A couple of hours."
"Do you believe them?" She knew he'd eventually ask and had dreaded it. Now the time had come.
"Yes."
"So you think they'll... you know."
"Kill me and torture you? Yes."
"Then how the hell can you be so calm?"
Josie sat beside him and took his hand. "I guess it's the training. Or faith."
"Faith? In what?"
She put a finger to her lips. Even though she'd checked and rechecked every inch of their cell and could find no signs of a camera or microphone, there could well be one mounted too high for her to recognize or see. "Hug me."
Dillon pulled her onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She whispered to him. "I'm hoping that our belongings were taken with us. There are tracking devices in my belongings, so if they brought my stuff, your uncle's security will have already pinpointed our location."
"And you think the people who took us wouldn't have thought of that?"
She had given that thought. "I think they'd expect me to ditch such things so that we couldn't be found. They could always get to our location by hacking from the other side, you know."
"I didn't think of that."
"Well, now you need to have some faith, QB. Faith that others will do what they're supposed to and faith that maybe we do have someone watching over us."
He drew back to look at her then clutched her to him again. "Why did you call me that now?"
"Because you need to be ready, Dillon. The next time that door opens, it will be for one of two things. Either our people will be here to get us out, or our captors will be coming to fulfill their threats. If it's the latter, I'm going to do everything I can to get my hands on one of those automatics the men carry, and I'll take out as many as I can. But you need to be prepared to run and fight if necessary, but primarily to run. You hear me?"
"I can't leave you to die, Josie."
"You have to."
"No, I don't. I can fight with you."
"Please don't say that. It's my—"
"Don't you say that one more time." His arms tightened around her. "I mean it. I know you'll go down fighting and I know you'd die to save me, but I don't want that. I want—I want..."
"What?" she asked when he remained silent.
"I want you."
The tone of his whisper had her pulling back to look into his eyes. "I know we're supposed to be playing a game, Josie and for a while it was. But now-now I realize it's not a game. I didn't want to fall for you, that's for damn sure. But I did. I'm crazy about you, and I want us to have a chance to see if maybe this thing we have can be something permanent and for that to happen, you have to stay alive."
Josie blinked back tears. "I love you, too."
"And?"
"And we'll survive. Help will come. I believe that."
"Or you want me to believe it will happen."
"Both. But right now, we need to rest, so I'll take first watch." She moved off his lap and patted her legs. "Put your head down and try to sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours."
"How will you know it's been a few hours?"
"I'll count."
"Yeah right."
"Lay down, Dillon."
He finally did, and she leaned her head back against the wall. Wouldn't you know? She mentally talked to herself. You finally find someone to make you feel again and it has the chance to last another ten hours. Josie, you're about the most unlucky person I know.
Her husband's face flashed in her mind, and she could almost hear his voice. "No retreat and no surrender, Josie. Remember, if you do go down, then go down fighting. Don't give a fucking inch."
I won't. No matter what, she'd never stop, never give up. And if they did make it out of this, she'd ask to make this assignment permanent because foolish or not, she was in love with Dillon Walker.
Chapter Twelve
"You'd think they'd be smart enough to at least take them out of the state," Riggs commented as he, Mathias, Lincoln, and Wiley crouched in the ditch alongside the road and looked through field glasses at the house set back among the trees and shrubs.
"What's the plan?" Mathias asked.
Everyone looked at Wiley. He was the closest to Command in the group and had executed more missions than the rest of them combined so was the logical choice to fill the role of leader.
"The way I see it, our smartest move is to recon the house to see if they're being held inside and how many of the enemy are present. Once we know if they're in the house, we can then check out the garage and the RV storage building."
"And then?" Lincoln asked.
"Then we decide when and where we breach."
"Let's do it." Lincoln agreed and looked at the others. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Riggs agreed, while Mathias merely nodded.
Wiley directed Mathias and Riggs in one direction, as he and Lincoln took the other. "You do know we're getting too old for this shit, right?" Wiley murmured.
"Yep. But what're you gonna do when someone needs help?"
"Exactly what we're doing."
"Amen, brother."
They proceeded in silence. Within ten minutes they regrouped and compared information.
"Six men, all inside the main house," Lincoln stated. "Apparently, they're not concerned about their prisoners escaping since there are no sentries, or anyone standing guard outside."
"There's a chair and camera set up in the garage," Riggs announced.
"No windows in the RV garage but the door is padlocked, so it's a good bet, that's where Dillon and Josie are being held," Mathias added.
"Then the question is, do we wait for them to go get our people, or do we call them out?"
Lincoln grinned. "Call'em out."
"I second," Mathias agreed.
"With one caveat," Riggs said. "Blow the lock on the RV garage first, so we can make sure that's where Dillon and Josie are. We need to get them out before the people in the house know we're here."
"Agree," Wiley said. "Okay, here's how I see this going...
*****
Josie bolted up, unsettling Dillon, who lay with his head in her lap. "What?" he asked.
"Shh!" She held up a hand.
"Can you hear me?" A voice outside the door filtered in.
She hurried to the door. "Yes."
"You guys okay?"
"Riggs?" Dillon asked.
"Yep. You okay, little brother?"
"We are."
"Good. I need you to back away and be ready. We're going to blow the lock, and when we do, things might get busy."
"Got it," Josie said.
"Okay, let's do this. Count to five."
She grabbed Dillon's hand and ran to the far corner of the garage, knelt and faced the wall, pulling him down beside her to do the same. When the explosion went off, it was relatively quiet, but she imagined it was loud enough to be heard by their captors.
A few seconds later, the door slid open a few feet. She saw the legs of two men, one on either side of the opening and grabbed Dillon's hand. "Come on."
They ran to the opening, got down on their bellies and crawled out. Just as Josie stood, she saw him. A man with a rifle, kneeling at the base of a tree across the driveway. "Down!" She yelled and turned to throw herself in front of Dillon.
Josie felt something slam into her a split second later, with enough force to have her careening into Dillon. She felt his arms go around her and she looked up at him. "Go, QB. Go," she said, surprised at the weakness of her voice. Before she could speak again, darkness swept in and took her away.
Dillon caught Josie as her body went limp. It was then he recognized the chaos that swirled around him. Mathias Gray Horse was running in an odd crouch across the driveway as Dillon's brother Riggs, stood in front of Dillon with some kind of rifle lifted in his hands.
There were shouts and gunfire, and suddenly Riggs turned to face Dillon. "He can do it," Riggs spoke, but to who, Dillon hadn't a clue.
Riggs released his weapon, and it swung down to hang by strap around his shoulder. He reached into a pocket on the vest he wore and pulled out something. "We need your arm little brother. Give her to me."
"No, she's hurt, we have to—"
"Yeah, and we will if you'll do what I say. Now let me hold her."
Dillon relinquished Josie to his brother's arms. "Take this," Riggs instructed, and Dillon looked at Riggs' hand.
"What is it?"
"A grenade. I want you to throw it to the house."
"That's a good seventy yards."
"That's why I'm giving it to you, bro. Just pull the pin and throw."
Dillon had never held a grenade, much less thrown one, but he did as his brother instructed. To his amazement, the grenade hit one of the front windows of the house, shattering through the glass. A heartbeat later, there was another explosion, this one massive. A hole actually blew open in the roof and glass burst from the rest of the front windows.
"Okay, take her," Riggs instructed. "We'll be out of here in two shakes."
Dillon felt a little like a sleepwalker as he gathered Josie's limp form into his arms. Things like this didn't happen to football coaches. This was a nightmare. One he needed to wake from. He felt his knees weaken and sat on the ground.
"Josie, please, wake up." He touched her face, and that's when he realized his hands were covered with blood. Her blood.
He looked at her, saw the blood that soaked the front of her shirt and the pallor of her skin. "No. No no no no." He tapped her face. "Josie, wake up. Please wake up. Josie."
Go, QB. Go. He heard the echo of those words now, in his mind and that brought a realization that literally took his breath. She'd deliberately stepped in the way of a bullet. For him. She did it for him.
Until that moment, Dillon thought he'd known pain, the physical pain he'd suffered when he was injured and the pain of losing his dream. Those things were nothing compared to the agony he felt now. He had no weapons against it, all he could do was hold her close, cradling her to him as grief ripped a howl of pain and rage from him.
He lost all awareness of his surroundings. All that existed was the feel of her in his arms, her shallow almost imperceptible breath that seemed too weak to sustain her and the rapid cooling of her skin. He was losing her and didn't know anything to do but cling to her and pray.
Suddenly there were others with him, hands prying his arms from her, even as he fought to keep hold of her. Dillon fought but was overpowered, shouting and threatening to kill his captors.
"Dillon, stop!" He heard the voice but ignored it then and again when it said. "Fuck it, sorry bro."
The next moment all he was aware of was a horrible pain in his head, and then merciful blackness.
Mathias and Lincoln held Dillon to keep him from falling as he hung limply between them. "He's gonna be pissed when he wakes," Mathias said.
"Me knocking him out will be the least of his problems." Riggs looked over his shoulder at Wiley, who knelt in the dirt beside the still body of Josie Harper.
"Is she...?" Mathias didn't finish the sentence.
"I don't know. Wiley called for a retrieval team
for the men we have restrained and a medivac."
Mathias and Lincoln looked at one another, and Lincoln nodded. Mathias addressed Riggs. "Here, take care of your brother while we check."
Riggs took Dillon, lowered him to the ground and sat beside him as Mathias and Lincoln walked over to Wiley. Riggs watched them kneel and then turned his attention to Dillon.
Lincoln ripped open Josie's shirt. The exit wound was ugly and big. "She's lost a lot of blood. Maybe too much. If we can't stop it..." He looked at Wiley.
Wiley shook his head. "Man, we've never tried something like this. I don't know if we can."
"We can try." Lincoln looked at Mathias. "Want to lend a hand and some of that Native juice, little brother?"
Mathias didn't hesitate. "Tell me what to do."
Lincoln looked at Wiley, "You're in charge."
"Fine," Wiley agreed. "Mathias, you hold her. I'll put my hands on the entry and exit wounds. Lincoln is going to try and tap into the power of nature. Once he does, he'll put one hand on top of mine on her chest and the other on the center of your chest. That will connect us all. It'll take all the energy the three of us have to keep her with us until help arrives."
Mathias lifted Josie in his arms. "Do it."
Riggs heard a groan and looked down to see Dillon blinking his eyes. Riggs offered a hand and pulled Dillon into a sitting position. "Josie!" Dillon said immediately.
Riggs pointed and saw Dillon look in the direction he indicated. "What the hell?"
"Damn if I know," Riggs said. He'd sure as hell never seen anything like this and wouldn't interfere for the life of him.
Mathias was holding Josie in his arms. She hung lifelessly. Wiley and Lincoln stood close, facing Mathias. Wiley had one hand on Josie's back and the other on her chest. Lincoln had one hand on top of Wiley's, the one on Josie's chest and the other was raised into the air, palm open as if reaching for the sky.
If that weren't strange enough, light was actually fading all around them. The sky was going dark, clouds gathering in a circle above them with a clearing in the center in which lightning started to flash.
"What the –" Dillon tapped Riggs' shoulder.
Riggs just shook his head and watched in amazement. The clouds started to literally circle and drop until the area around them was rimmed. Light flashed and sparked, sizzling the air and making every hair on his body stand up.
