Say No More

by Rose, Karen

  Gideon did and Mercy suddenly felt sick. This was it. They were going to face Ephraim Burton. And she was going to trust her new family to make sure that all of them walked away alive.

  Except for Ephraim. I want to see him die. Painfully.

  Dunsmuir, California

  Wednesday, 19 April, 4.25 P.M.

  Sonofabitch. Ephraim backed away from the road, his heart pounding like a motherfucker. They’re here. Already. How are they here already?

  But they were, specifically Gideon and that tall blond Fed who’d visited the Sokolovs’ house twice on Sunday, and they were approaching the tree stump where he’d left Farrah Romero’s phone.

  How were they here already? They’d just left Sacramento half an hour ago. Mercy had said so.

  Mercy had clearly lied. Rage bubbled up and he had to breathe through it so that he didn’t punch something or snarl. Because Gideon and the Fed were so close that they might hear him.

  She’d lied and disobeyed, bringing the Feds. How many others were here?

  Was she even here? If she’d double-crossed him . . .

  Motherfucker. He was going to kill all of the hostages and he was going to make it hurt. He crept back to the camper, fuming. He’d parked off the road about a quarter mile away but had been about to move the camper even deeper into the forest. It was too late for that now. If he started the Escalade’s engine, Gideon and the other Fed would hear it and come running. And even if they didn’t, he’d be shocked if law enforcement hadn’t barricaded the road.

  He’d thought he’d have at least two or three hours to prepare, even if Mercy did tell the cops. Instead, he’d wasted what time he had sleeping. Goddammit.

  He needed to find another way out. And of the three hostages, Dr Romero was the one most likely to help make that happen. The other two he’d kill now, because there’d be no controlling them. Together they might be able to overpower him.

  Leaning Granny’s rifle against the side of the camper, he drew Regina’s gun, gave the suppressor a tightening twist, and opened the camper door. Both Damien Sokolov and André Holmes were motionless except for the deep breaths they drew. He wished he had time to let them wake up. He wanted them to suffer, not die in their sleep.

  He frowned, because the bench seat of the dinette was empty. Dr Romero had been there. Where the hell was she?

  Ephraim stumbled backward at the sight of the woman on the floor as she rolled to a stop at the open door. Her feet kicked out and he stumbled backward several more steps, gasping at the sudden pain in his groin. Romero lay on the camper floor, her legs halfway out the door, bound feet dangling. Breathing hard through her nose because he’d duct-taped her mouth, she lifted her head enough to glare at him.

  If she’d kicked him one inch lower, she’d have had him curled on the ground in the fetal position. As it was, it hurt so bad that he was dizzy with it. But he wasn’t down for the count.

  I am going to enjoy killing you.

  He staggered to his feet and grabbed her by the duct tape that bound her ankles, holding her feet away from his body as he pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced the tape. Once her feet were freed, he yanked her up by her shirt collar. ‘You will cooperate or die,’ he whispered. ‘But you get to see your fiancé die first because you don’t know how to behave.’

  He leaned down to pick up the golden gun he’d dropped when she kicked him, but straightened to backhand her hard when she tried to twist out of his grasp. ‘Bitch,’ he snarled softly.

  A loud thump from inside the camper made him jump. Then swear, because the camper’s stereo began blaring. It was only static because the dial had been set by the honeymooners to a Nevada station, but it was loud.

  The nightmare only got worse when the New Orleans cop appeared in the doorway, using the door’s frame to push himself to his feet. The only saving grace was that his hands were still cuffed behind him.

  I guess he wasn’t asleep, Ephraim thought numbly, and then his brain kicked back into gear. He yanked Romero back to her feet, nearly stumbling when she tried using her body weight to drop out of his grasp. She did stumble, but then she paused . . .

  And kicked Regina’s gun under the camper.

  ‘Fucking bitch,’ he hissed, dragging her a few steps backward as her fiancé staggered down the stairs, murder in his eyes.

  Fucking hell.

  ‘Stop! FBI!’

  The shout came from the direction of the clearing where Gideon and the other Fed had been nosing around. ‘Fuck,’ he snarled. The Feds were coming. Grabbing the rifle from where it leaned against the camper, he aimed and fired at the New Orleans cop who was charging him.

  The man was built like a linebacker, so the shot should have hit. But it didn’t because Romero threw herself into Ephraim, knocking his arm so that his shot went wide.

  He turned to shoot again, but the cop had taken cover behind the camper and Ephraim was out of time. He shoved the barrel into Romero’s back. ‘Move. Now.’

  She glared at him. But she walked. Actually she stomped, making way too much noise.

  ‘Faster,’ he whispered. ‘And cut the noise, or I will go back to New Orleans and kill every member of your family after I kill you.’

  Her jaw set and she moved faster.

  Twenty-nine

  Dunsmuir, California

  Wednesday, 19 April, 4.30 P.M.

  The silence in Agent Hunter’s SUV was so oppressive that Amos wanted to shout, speak, whisper – anything to make it stop. To get some relief. He was antsy, needing to move. To do something.

  ‘Where is Gideon?’ Mercy whispered, the sound making him jump.

  ‘He’s all right,’ Agent Schumacher said from the driver’s seat. She’d joined them seconds after Gideon and Tom had taken off to explore the coordinates that Ephraim had given them.

  The coordinates to the trap Ephraim had prepared.

  ‘How do you know he’s all right?’ Mercy insisted.

  ‘He’s been in contact with me,’ Schumacher replied. ‘They’re fine.’

  But Amos didn’t believe her. The woman’s mouth was tight and her shoulders even tighter. Of course, that could have been disapproval that the four of them were there to begin with. Luckily Daisy had passed him one of the rifles she’d been keeping in the backseat when Schumacher had been talking to Gideon and Tom before the two had left them. If Schumacher had seen that, she really would have disapproved. Only Rafe displayed his weapon openly and Schumacher had also frowned at him.

  At least I’m armed. It gave him a sense of control that was likely unwarranted. Except that he was a better shot than Ephraim. If Amos was with an Eden hunting party, they came back with something – a deer, a goose, quail . . . something. Ephraim rarely hit where he aimed, but no one in the compound knew that. Only trusted members were allowed to join the hunt because hunting meant possession of a firearm, even if only for a short time. The Elders had positioned it as not wanting anyone to be inadvertently hurt by the weapons, but now Amos knew it was because they feared an uprising.

  Amos wished he’d known then. I would have shown them a damn uprising.

  ‘Have they found Burton?’ Rafe quietly asked Schumacher.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said brusquely, and then her tone softened. ‘They will be all right. Molina’s SWAT team is nearby. Try not to worry, Mercy. It’ll be f—’

  The gunshot splintered the tension in the SUV, and everyone moved at once. Amos and Rafe both pushed Mercy to the floorboard and Daisy had her rifle aimed at the back window before Amos could draw a breath.

  ‘Farrah,’ Mercy whispered hoarsely. ‘He’s shot her. Or André or Damien. He’s shooting them.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’ Schumacher tried to soothe, but she’d also drawn her firearm. ‘I’m going to check the immediate area. Stay here.’

  She slipped from the driver’s seat and cre
pt around to the other side of the SUV. The forest was on the passenger side, thick and dark, despite the sun still shining overhead. Someone could hide in the trees and never be seen.

  But the action wasn’t happening in the forest, at least not on that side of the road. This was nearly what Mercy had dreaded, but at least her friend was still alive.

  ‘Rafe,’ Amos muttered, pointing through the SUV window to the forest across the road. ‘Through there.’

  Ephraim had a rifle pressed into Farrah Romero’s back and she walked briskly, her hands bound in front of her with what looked like duct tape. Tape also covered her mouth, and tears streaked down her face.

  I can’t allow him to kill that woman. I let him kill too many already.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Mercy whispered.

  Rafe drew a breath. ‘He’s got Farrah, but she’s alive.’

  ‘He wants to trade,’ Mercy said numbly.

  ‘That’s not going to happen,’ Rafe snarled, saving Amos from having to do so. ‘You promised me, Mercy.’

  ‘I’m not going to trade myself,’ she hissed back. ‘I’m just saying that’s what he wants to happen.’

  Amos was suddenly calm. He wasn’t going to sacrifice himself, either. He finally had all of his children together. But he wasn’t going to allow Farrah to be harmed. ‘We can take him. He might think Mercy is here, but he doesn’t know that I am.’

  ‘Or me,’ Daisy added. ‘He hasn’t seen us yet. We still have the advantage.’

  Rafe’s door opened, revealing Schumacher, who was crouched below the window line. ‘Reynolds and Hunter are headed back, so I’ll have backup. I’m going to circle around behind Burton and get the drop on him. Don’t worry, Miss Callahan. We’ll get your friend out of this.’

  Still sitting on the floor, Mercy gave Schumacher a stiff nod and they watched as the agent took off at a run into the woods behind them.

  Amos glanced back, blinking when he saw no Ephraim. No Farrah. ‘They’re gone.’

  ‘Back into the woods,’ Daisy said. ‘Let me out. I want a better angle.’

  Rafe complied, opening his door and slowly sliding down and out, staying out of sight of the window as Schumacher had done. ‘Come on,’ he said to Daisy, then frowned when Mercy moved to join them. ‘Not you.’

  Mercy glared at him but stayed put, even when Amos followed the others out of the vehicle.

  Rafe had his handgun and Daisy a rifle, which she handled like an extension of her own arm. Gideon’s chosen one apparently had many skills. Daisy knelt behind the front tire of Hunter’s SUV, positioning the rifle on her shoulder.

  Satisfied that she knew what she was doing, Amos lifted his gaze to search for Ephraim.

  ‘He couldn’t have seen us yet,’ Rafe murmured.

  ‘Probably just the SUVs,’ Daisy murmured back. ‘He stole your dad’s Tahoe back in Snowbush to escape. Maybe he’s planning to get away using one of these Fed-mobiles.’

  ‘There he is,’ Amos said quietly. Grimly.

  Because Ephraim had reemerged from the forest, the rifle now slung over his shoulder by its strap, a pistol in his right hand pressed into Farrah’s temple. His left forearm was clamped over her chest and that hand held a revolver, the muzzle shoved up under Farrah’s chin. He shoved the woman forward until he was ten yards from where they stood.

  At least he’d removed the duct tape from her mouth. Farrah was sobbing now, a heartbreaking sight. She wasn’t moving a muscle, her fear tangible. But even through her tears she showed a defiance that made Amos glad this woman was his daughter’s best friend.

  And made Amos determined to save her.

  ‘I just want to get away,’ Ephraim called. ‘Nobody needs to get hurt. Step away from the SUVs and I’ll let her go.’

  ‘We can’t shoot him now,’ Daisy murmured, ‘and neither can Schumacher. He’s got fingers on both triggers. One wrong twitch and he’ll kill her.’

  ‘I know,’ Rafe growled under his breath, then raised his voice. ‘Let her go first. Then we’ll talk.’

  Ephraim edged closer. ‘I’ll tell you where to find your brother, Sokolov. You might want to get to him quickly. He’s already lost a lot of blood. You know, from the crash this morning and the bullets I pumped into his gut. You can still save him, though. Every second counts. Get out of my way and you can save him.’

  Dunsmuir, California

  Wednesday, 19 April, 4.50 P.M.

  Rafe’s heart skipped a beat, fear for his brother nearly overwhelming him. In that moment, he was tempted to do as Ephraim demanded, but he knew the man was lying. Ephraim would try to kill them all. Except for Mercy. She would be taken back to Eden and made an example. Rafe’s blood ran cold at the very thought.

  Of course, Ephraim couldn’t succeed. He was too outnumbered. But Rafe wasn’t willing to risk even one of them for this monster. They just needed to get Burton’s guns away from Farrah’s head. Daisy was right. One wrong twitch of Ephraim’s finger and Farrah would be dead. Rafe hoped that Schumacher was fully aware of the situation. He hoped that she was somewhere behind Ephraim, ready to shoot but waiting for the right moment.

  Mercy cracked the SUV door open. ‘He’s lying, Rafe.’

  ‘I know,’ Rafe hissed. ‘He’s not going to just walk away. He’ll kill us all. Close the door and get down.’

  ‘No. Look at Farrah. Watch her mouth.’

  Rafe did and immediately felt a wave of relief. Farrah was mouthing over and over again, He’s okay. Your brother’s okay.

  ‘Oh thank God,’ Rafe whispered. ‘Where the fuck is Gideon anyway? We need a diversion. Anything to get him to loosen his hold on Farrah.’

  Mercy scrubbed her face with her palms. ‘He’s not going to let Farrah go. He wants me and he wants his damn safe-deposit box key. Let me open the door wider. I want to talk to him. And I won’t leave the car, I promise,’ she snapped before he could warn her not to do just that.

  Rafe sighed and opened the door, because he had a very bad feeling that backup wasn’t coming. Not only were Gideon and Hunter AWOL, the SWAT team that Molina was supposed to be bringing was not here. And they should have been. He was starting to wonder if Schumacher was really in the woods waiting for Ephraim to lower his guard. He thought she would have shown herself by this time, maybe even crept closer. Something was very wrong.

  Daisy’s face was pinched and drawn. She knew Gideon should be back by now as well. But she was holding it together.

  ‘Ephraim,’ Mercy shouted. ‘Let her go. I know you want me. I know you want this damn key, whatever it’s for. I know you don’t want your mother dying alone in some prison ward, but she will if you hurt any of my friends or family. So let her go and deal directly with me.’

  Ephraim’s answer was a gunshot through the SUV’s side window.

  Everyone hunkered on reflex, but the glass didn’t shatter. Rafe chanced a look around the SUV, hoping that Ephraim had pulled both guns away from Farrah while he was shooting, but he still had the revolver shoved firmly under her chin.

  ‘That window won’t hold forever,’ Ephraim shouted back. He pushed Farrah a little closer. ‘And when it breaks, someone inside that SUV will get the next bullet and I’ll aim for heads.’ He shot again and the glass pebbled.

  ‘He’s right,’ Rafe said, his jaw clenched. ‘The glass will take two more hits, tops. If he gets much closer he’ll be climbing in the damn window.’

  Dammit, Gideon, where the fuck are you? This was Rafe’s worst fear for how this situation would end. With him having to put Mercy directly in Ephraim’s crosshairs.

  ‘What do you want?’ Rafe yelled. ‘Be specific, Burton.’

  ‘I want that SUV!’

  ‘Take the other one.’

  Ephraim had continued inching closer and now Rafe could hear him laugh. ‘Fine. As long as Mercy is in it.’

  Mercy cro
uched on the floor of Hunter’s SUV, pale but determined. ‘Where is Molina’s SWAT team?’

  ‘Good question,’ Rafe growled. ‘But a better one is what do you think you’re doing?’

  Because Mercy was sliding across the floor to the open door. ‘I’m going to do what I did in Snowbush. Except this time I’ve got a vest and helmet. And this time you’re going to be ready. Daisy, can you climb a tree?’

  Daisy nodded. ‘I’ve done it before. You want me to be your sniper?’

  ‘Well, I think we’re on our own,’ Mercy said. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rafe agreed. ‘I expected the cavalry to have ridden in by now.’

  ‘Amos,’ Daisy whispered, ‘how good are you with a rifle?’

  ‘Very good,’ Amos said seriously. ‘Good enough to keep my son and daughter’s family safe.’

  Daisy gave Amos’s arm a quick squeeze. ‘Keep him in your sights while I’m crawling to the woods. If you see him drop those guns away from Farrah, shoot. Okay?’

  Amos nodded once. ‘I will.’

  When Daisy was safely in the forest, Mercy leaned forward to kiss Rafe hard. ‘I am not a sacrifice,’ she whispered. ‘I am a diversion. Watch his hands. The minute he doesn’t have the muzzle of a gun on Farrah’s body, shoot him. I don’t care where. I want this over.’ She kissed him again, softer this time. ‘I trust you.’

  Rafe swallowed hard. ‘Dammit, Mercy.’

  She gave him a sad smile. ‘Let’s get rid of the baggage I’ve been carrying all these years, okay?’ Then she patted Amos’s cheek. ‘You were a good shot when I was little. I bet you’re a lot better now. And if you’re tempted to do anything stupid, remember that Abigail needs her papa. And so do I.’

  Amos shuddered out a breath. ‘I’ll remember.’

  She nodded once, then slid from the SUV to the ground. Staying bent at the waist, she walked to the front end of the vehicle and straightened to her full height.

  ‘All right, Ephraim,’ she called. ‘I’m right here. Let Farrah go and we can talk.’

  Dunsmuir, California

  Wednesday, 19 April, 5.10 P.M.