Doc

by Dahlia West, Caleb

  Caleb hesitated, but not because he wasn’t sure of his answer. He seemed genuinely surprised—shocked—by the question. “No,” he said. “No! God, Izzy, I don’t think that. You’d never do that. It’s not in you to do something like that.”

  “That’s right!” she shot back. “I would never do that because I might be related to her, but I’m not her! Everything good in me I got from Pop and everything good in you came from your mom. And those two, my Pop and your mom, they’re stronger, more important, than the shit heels who should’ve loved us but didn’t.”

  Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know, Izzy. I don’t know. Being around me, being with me, it’s a bad idea.”

  “Try and make me leave again. See what happens.”

  Before he could reply, the cell phone on the counter rang. Caleb turned and picked it up, studying the screen. “It’s Prior,” he told her.

  Izzy listened to Caleb’s part of the call and watched him scribble down directions, presumably to the cabin where Jeter and Jace Paul were holed up.

  Caleb disconnected the call and set the phone down. “We need to get ready,” he told her, moving past her and toward the bedroom.

  Izzy stood in the kitchen, watching him walk away.

  “This isn’t over, Caleb,” she called after him. “The conversation or the relationship.”

  All she heard was the sound of the bedroom door closing on her.

  Chapter 29

  Caleb followed his own hastily scribbled directions beyond the city limits and north on 90 to the edge of the Black Hills National Forest, just a few scant miles from the Wyoming border. He followed an unpaved road just outside the Spearfish city limits, past scrub bushes and trees yellowing in the late autumn sun. He spotted Tex’s Hummer and Shooter’s large diesel truck parked off the not-so-beaten path. He nosed the car off the road next to Shooter and killed the engine. Shooter, Easy, and Tex were standing behind the Hummer, waiting for them to arrive.

  Izzy had been remarkably quiet in the car, surprising since the last thing she’d said to him was that she wasn’t done talking. He was grateful for the silence since he didn’t know what to say anyway. Nothing with Izzy was ground he’d covered before. He felt set adrift without a map or a compass and he knew he couldn’t necessarily trust his instincts. Without giving her so much as a glance, he threw open the Charger’s driver side door and got out. She followed.

  Shooter nodded to him. “The cabin’s up on that ridge, just over the crest.”

  Caleb turned and shielded his eyes to assess the location. The trees provided a small bit of cover but not much due to the late season. He couldn’t see the cabin and that meant the cabin’s occupants couldn’t see them, either. At least they had one thing going for them. A shadow emerged from behind two trees just to his left. Hawk Red Cloud stepped out and approached the group. The large Sioux scout was neither out of breath nor apparently concerned with the situation. “We’ve got two entrances, front and back, minus the windows. There are two on each side. I make out two men, both inside. One of the rear windows is covered with a sheet, though. My guess is, if they still have the girl, that’s where she is. We’re going to have to go in silent,” he told them. “Unless they change position while we’re gearing up.”

  “Why?” Shooter asked, unsnapping a large, rectangular case.

  “Because one of them is in the kitchen, next to the door of that back room. We go in hot and he makes for that door, well, there might not be anyone left to save.”

  Shooter nodded, accepting the man’s assessment. “Alright. We go in silent, and secure the two of them immediately.”

  Tex opened the back of the Hummer and pulled a large duffel bag to the edge of the cargo hold. He unzipped it and began handing out wireless earpieces. Once attached, each man strapped on a bulletproof vest. Caleb turned while adjusting his to see that Izzy had opened the trunk of the Charger and pulled out her own vest. She pulled it on over her head and velcroed it tightly around herself.

  Shooter looked at Caleb and then jerked his chin at Izzy, who was racking the slide of a Mossberg as she approached them. “Where’s she going to be?” he asked Caleb.

  If Izzy felt slighted by the question, she didn’t show it. It wasn’t an insult, Caleb knew. Shooter didn’t know her, had never been in the field with her. Caleb hadn’t really, either. What Shooter was really asking for was Caleb’s opinion about her place on the team: go in with them, or wait here. Izzy had always been cool under pressure. Though they’d never been on a team together, she’d done a hell of a lot of takedowns—more than Caleb had, honestly. She knew the game well enough and she for damn sure understood what was at stake, it was the reason she’d stalked her prey all this way and stayed in the shadows of Rapid City while she searched.

  “She’s with me,” Caleb told Shooter. “I’m on point. We’ll take the front entrance.”

  Shooter turned to Tex and Hawk. “You two are on the rear entrance. Hawk, you take point on that one.” Tex didn’t argue. If guns blazing was the plan, any one of them could charge in first, but no one was stealthier than Red Cloud.

  Izzy eyed Shooter’s sniper rifle warily. “If they’re dead, we don’t get paid,” she told him.

  Shooter grinned at her. “I won’t kill anyone, Izzy. I’m just the backup. And don’t worry about getting paid. We live here, and this is in our wheelhouse, so we’re helping out our brother. No one’s taking your money from you.”

  Izzy nodded. “I appreciate that.”

  She watched the men finish gearing up. “What?” Shooter asked her.

  She shook her head. “Nothing,” she told him. “I was just thinking about Pop, that’s all.”

  Shooter placed his large hand on Izzy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Family’s family, Iz.”

  Tex stepped forward and looked up to the ridge. He frowned. “We should have brought Abby,” he declared. “For the girl.”

  “I’ll take the girl,” Izzy told him. “You handle the others. We’ll call RCPD once everyone is locked down.”

  “Alright,” Shooter said firmly. “Let’s move out. Everyone knows their assignment. Stay out of view of those windows and wait at your points of entry for Go.”

  Everyone nodded and spread out quickly and quietly.

  Tex and Hawk headed left, through the trees and up the hill. Shooter, Easy, Caleb, and Izzy turned right together, though Easy and Shooter broke off from them as Izzy and Caleb maneuvered toward the shoddy one-story cabin that rose into view ahead of them. Caleb and Izzy reached their destination first, as it was closest. He crept up the porch, placing his boots on the sides of the steps to avoid stressing the cracked wood. When he reached the top, he swung right and pressed himself up against the wall, just beside the doorknob.

  Izzy reached out and gently tested it. When it gave just a bit, she let go of the knob and nodded at Caleb.

  “We’re in position,” Caleb said softly. The earpieces were top of the line and picked up even the barest whisper.

  “Understood,” came Shooter’s voice.

  “Uh, we got a problem,” Tex cut in. “Our entry’s locked.”

  Caleb frowned. The rear door was closest to the kitchen. It was imperative that they breached that entrance, even more so than the front. Before he could say anything, Izzy said, “I’m on my way.”

  She crept back down the steps and edged toward the right side of the house. Which was smart, he noted. There were two windows on that side, but one of them was blocked by curtains. If the girl was in that room, she wouldn’t cry out in surprise at seeing a heavily armed woman sneaking past her window. Plus, Shooter was on that side. He and Easy were spotters for the operation and they’d safely navigate Izzy to the back door.

  Caleb watched as Izzy disappeared around the corner of the cabin. He held his breath and steadied his hands. He didn’t like it when she was out of sight. He pressed his back further into the wall behind him to fight the urge to go after her.

  “Easy now,” came Shooter’s v
oice over the earpiece. “The one in the living room is on the move.”

  There was a long moment of silence as Caleb imagined Izzy waiting by the window, tensed and ready to move past it at the lieutenant’s word. Finally the word came and just a few seconds later, Caleb heard Izzy say, “Hold this.”

  The sound of a snort came over the earpiece. “You hold Vegas’ purse,” Hawk whispered. “Now Izzy’s shotgun. Must feel good to be useful.”

  “Fuck you,” Tex whispered.

  “Shut it,” Shooter ordered and they maintained radio silence while Izzy picked the lock on the back door.

  Caleb looked down at his watch and timed it, for lack of anything better to do. At the 47-second mark, she said, “Got it.” He smiled to himself. That’s my girl. The thought had come to him unbidden, and it surprised him, but he didn’t have time to think about it now as she made her way back to the front of the cabin to prepare for entry.

  “He’s back,” Shooter told her. “He’s on the couch. Go ahead; he can’t see you.”

  Within seconds, Izzy appeared around the corner of the house again. Caleb felt his stomach uncoil now that he could see her again. She crept back to her position by the front door. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Stand by, sports fans,” Shooter said. Half a second later, the front tire on the rusted-out truck parked in front of the cabin jerked. Caleb heard a slow, quiet hiss of air as the tire deflated. After an adjustment, Shooter fired another silenced round from his rifle and disabled the second vehicle.

  “No one’s leaving this party early,” said Easy.

  “Ready?” came Shooter’s voice again.

  “Front entry ready,” Caleb replied, looking into Izzy’s eyes as he said it.

  Her breathing was even. Her hands were steady on her weapon. Her eyes were clouded, not bright with fear or excitement. She was definitely ready.

  “Rear entry ready,” Tex replied.

  “There’s a joke in there somewhere,” said Hawk.

  “Tell it later,” Shooter ordered.

  Caleb took his own deep breath and settled into the heels of his feet. He put his hand on the knob.

  “Three…” said Shooter.

  Caleb turned the knob as far as it would go to the right.

  “Two…”

  He cracked the door just the barest of inches.

  “One…”

  He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in the door.

  Chapter 30

  Izzy followed Caleb silently into the cabin. The opening of both doors at the same time hadn’t alerted anyone to their presence. As she fully entered the building and stepped around Caleb, she saw Hawk and Tex slowly moving in directly across from her. The kitchen was to their left and they skirted along the wall to reach the entrance without being seen.

  Izzy spied Jace Paul stretched out across the couch, asleep. She and Caleb swept the room with their eyes just before Izzy moved around him and toward the sleeping man. She maneuvered her way between the couch and coffee table, training her shotgun on him. From her position, she couldn’t be seen by Jeter in the kitchen. She brought the gun down slowly, much more slowly than she would have liked, honestly, until it came to rest on Jace’s cheek.

  The man’s eyes fluttered open and widened at her. When he opened his mouth to shout, she quickly moved the barrel of the Mossberg directly into his mouth. “Morning, sunshine,” she whispered. “Stay quiet for me or you’ll never make another noise again. You feel me?”

  Jace swallowed hard. Izzy could see the pulse in his neck throbbing. He nodded as best he could under the circumstances. Izzy kept her eyes on Jace and hoped things went as well with Jeter.

  She heard the click of a hammer in her earpiece.

  “What the fuck?” said the other man.

  “Drop it,” said Hawk.

  “What the fuck?” the man repeated. “Jace?!”

  Hawk sighed. “Think this through,” he said. He sounded irritated, like he was scolding a child having a tantrum. “You’ve brought a knife to a gunfight.”

  A long silence ensued before Izzy heard a sharp clatter. She assumed Jeter had made the right choice and dropped the knife. There was a scuffling of shoes behind her. Caleb approached the couch and grabbed Jace by the arm. He hauled him up off the couch and cuffed him. Izzy stepped back and turned around. Tex was slapping a second pair of cuffs on the other man.

  Izzy frowned at him. At both of them, really. The man looked up and spat onto the floor. “Fucking Christ,” he growled.

  Izzy crossed the room and stood a few feet away, directly in front of him. “Who the fuck are you?” she demanded.

  “Oh, shit,” Tex muttered.

  A loud, keening cry came from the back room. It sounded a bit like a raging or wounded animal. As the door flung open, Tex grabbed the cuffed man around the torso and hauled him to one side, out of the way. A scrawny asshole that Izzy finally recognized as Jeter Paul emerged from the room just off the kitchen. He was spoiling for a fight and he hadn’t made the same mistake as his nameless friend. He lifted a nine millimeter, eyes on Hawk who was closest to him. Izzy stepped deftly to the side and forward, clearing the Sioux from her spread. She caressed the trigger of the Mossberg and fired. Thunder blasted, making her ears ring.

  Jeter Paul dropped to the floor, his gun skittering into a corner, far out of his reach. Izzy was reasonably confident he couldn’t even crawl to it. He screamed loudly but the sound was somewhat muted by her recovering eardrums. Hawk leapt over him; agile, Izzy thought, for such a large man. He kept his gun drawn as he looked into the back bedroom.

  “We’re approaching!” Shooter said loudly through her earpiece. He might have been running.

  “Jeter!” the two cuffed men shouted. Tex wrestled the unknown man back away from the kitchen and manhandled him toward the open front door. Caleb pushed Jace out ahead of him. Shooter’s large, hulking frame filled the doorway and he stepped inside. His sniper rifle was shouldered and he had his own Desert Eagle drawn and pointed at the floor. His shrewd eyes assessed the room.

  “Damn!” said Easy as he fell in behind his former lieutenant. “She shot him? What the fuck? I thought we weren’t supposed to shoot them! If I’d known we could shoot them, I wouldn’t have agreed to be a fucking spotter,” he grumbled.

  “He ain’t dead,” Hawk replied stepping back over the man calmly. He holstered his weapon. “Izzy,” he said, jerking his chin at the back room. Izzy skirted around the two of them as Hawk grabbed the man whose feet had seen better days. Hawk lifted Jeter onto his shoulders as though he weighed little more than a sack of potatoes. Izzy barely spared them a glance as she peeked into the room at the end of the kitchen.

  There was a bed by the window, covered with crumpled dirty sheets. No closet, so there was no surprise fourth man. In the corner, facing the wall, was a small, thin, blonde girl. She was covering her head with her arm and crying. Izzy sighed and took her finger off the trigger of her shotgun. The girl was alive, that was all that mattered. Anything else could be dealt with, healed, with time and care. Izzy looked over her shoulder and listened to the sound of the men being dragged outside. It was probably better if the girl didn’t have to see them. They could stay here, in this room, until the proper authorities came.

  “Shooter,” Izzy said.

  “Izzy?”

  “Can you call RCPD and get an ambulance, too?”

  “Will do, Iz.”

  Izzy stepped into the room and got a better view. It was littered with fast food bags, empty soda and beer cans, and the trashcan by her right foot was loaded with condoms. She bit her lower lip. Thanks to her absent mother, Izzy didn’t have much in the way of maternal instinct, but she was still a better bet than any of the six-foot Army Rangers outside. She set the safety on her Mossberg and leaned it against the wall. She didn’t know how much it mattered, but she tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.

  “Hey,” she said quietly. “I’m Izzy.”

  The girl d
idn’t reply. Izzy moved to the foot of the bed and debated whether or not to just sit with her until real help came.

  “I’m from Denver. I’ve been looking for you. So many people want you home, Darla.”

  It’s funny the way that the perception of time is always colored by the circumstances of the moment. Happy moments, like the ones when she was in bed with Caleb, feeling him moving inside her and always wanting more, never seemed to last as long as she wanted them to. Moments of doubt or fear, though, seemed to stretch out endlessly before her. If Izzy could have seen the girl’s face, she would have known which moment they were living in. Her ability to read people would have ensured a different outcome. But Izzy hadn’t seen her face. Not when she first looked in the room and not even after she entered it. Not until it was too late.

  Sixteen-year-old Darla Hale wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, then she turned and raised a nine millimeter. The inner brass ring of the muzzle glinted at Izzy. H and K, if she wasn’t mistaken, because black moments really did seem to go on forever.

  Chapter 31

  “Get down,” Caleb told Jace.

  The younger man glared at him. “Fuck you.”

  Caleb kicked him behind the knees and he dropped to the grass alongside his two friends.

  “You’re gonna die for this,” Jeter shouted. He was sprawled on the front lawn, bleeding from his feet. Caleb hadn’t seen the actual shot but given the condition of the kitchen floor, it appeared as though Izzy had aimed for the yellowed linoleum right in front of the man’s toes. The floor had taken the worst of the impact while the scatter had hit Jeter’s feet and ankles like shrapnel. It still hurt like a bitch, Caleb was certain, but Jeter still had all his little piggies, and they were all headed to jail instead of the morgue.