by Debra Webb
Neely smiled. “The only question now is,” he began as if Court had said nothing at all, “who dies first?”
Talons of fear ripped at Court’s chest. Sabrina trembled so hard she could barely stand, tears streamed down her pale cheeks. He had to do something.
“Do you have any last words, Court Brody?” Neely asked, ever the dramatic leader. “An apology, perhaps, or maybe you would like an opportunity to plead for your life rather than toss useless threats.”
“Yeah, I’ve got something to say,” Court returned, his barely restrained fury mixed with fear for Sabrina making his voice tight. Go for broke, Brody, he told himself. You might not have your Beretta, but you do have one thing…the truth. He turned to the men standing in judgment of him.
“He said I was out to destroy you, but that’s not true.” A couple of the men voiced their opinions otherwise. Court shook his head. “I’ve watched you—all of you. You’re good people. Do you really know the kind of man he is?” He pointed to Neely. “And him.” He hitched his thumb in Fahey’s direction. “Do you really want to listen to a man who does business with a terrorist organization like the Black Order? Do you have any idea the gravity of an arrangement like that?”
“Talk all you want to, Brody,” Neely encouraged. “They’re not going to be swayed by anything you say.”
“The Black Order,” Court shouted, his determination gaining momentum now, “kills innocent women and children—like yours—” Court pointed to one of the men who had brought his two boys to the compound on more than one occasion “—and yours.” He gestured to another. “That case Ferguson stashed in the jeep, the Demo, it’s used to blow up buildings. Buildings where people go to work, where children go to day care.”
He surveyed the now completely silent group. “Like in Oklahoma City. Women and children.” Court paused a moment to compose himself. He was banking on the fact that the Sons and Daughters of Montana didn’t want to harm innocent people. They stood firm against those who went against their ideals, nothing more. “Is that why you’re here today? To give this man—” he glared at Neely “—the power to kill innocent people?
“He won’t tell you that himself, but that’s exactly what he intends to do…and that’s why I’m here.” Court turned back to the visibly shaken men dressed in soldier garb. “I came to stop him…not you.”
“Tell him he’s wrong, Joshua,” one of the men yelled.
Ferguson darted a worried glance at Neely, then back at the men.
“Tell him, Joshua, that’s not what we’re about,” another shouted, outraged.
“I watched the news for weeks about that bombing in Oklahoma City,” Raymond piped up, cutting Court a hard glare. “We ain’t got nothing like that in mind.” He turned his attention to Neely. “Tell him, Joshua.”
Court waited, his heart hammering, for Neely to respond.
The man glowered at Court, fury blazing in his eyes. “How dare you question my ideals.” He turned back to the waiting men, their faces expectant. “Surely you are not foolish enough to believe that anything can be accomplished without the spilling of some innocent blood?” he demanded, his arrogance showing. “No ground can ever be gained without grabbing the world’s attention. No one has forgotten the images from Oklahoma City, just as no one will ever be able to forget what we stand for.”
Expressions filled with uncertainty, the men stood silent, waiting for Neely to continue. For him to somehow explain away his own words.
Court felt the subtle shift, felt his hopes rising. The man was digging his own damned grave. Court sent another reassuring look in Sabrina’s direction. She still trembled, but the tears had dried. Court’s chest constricted. If he could just have one more chance…
Neely pointed to the trucks loaded with weapons. “This is the only way,” he insisted with a calm Court was sure he couldn’t possibly feel. “You can be certain that I have given these details much consideration. And, in time, you will understand as I do. For now, it is imperative that we conclude this business.”
“But you didn’t say nothin’ about killin’ no women and children,” Beecham, standing next to Raymond, countered.
“After our rally tonight,” Neely thundered, pressing the man with an intimidating gaze, “all your questions will be answered.”
Stunned silence, or maybe acquiescence, Court couldn’t be sure which, was the only response.
Neely shifted a triumphant gaze to Court. “You cannot stop what has already been set in motion,” he warned for Court’s ears only.
“Maybe I won’t have to.” Court glanced at the confused men, hoping against hope that all were not fooled.
Neely smirked at Court’s insinuation, “You think you can stop me so easily? No matter what happens here today, this destiny is already set. And you’re already dead.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“THE WOMAN DIES first,” Neely commanded.
Court readied to hurl his body in front of Sabrina’s the moment he determined from which way the harm would come. She trembled, her stance so unsteady Markham held her upright.
“But she’s a teacher with my wife,” Beecham, the man Court had chosen as a volunteer, said. Standing right beside him, Raymond looked worried and confused.
Neely whirled toward Beecham, accusation in his eyes. “Would you choose to die in her place?” he demanded.
“She’s just a teacher,” another man repeated.
“The wages of disloyalty is death.” Neely turned to Ferguson. “Kill them both, and anyone who takes their side.”
Before the order sank into the heads of those protesting, Ferguson shot the second man who had spoken out against Neely. Before Court could reach him, Ferguson took a bead on Beecham then. Raymond dived to the right, taking the round in his right shoulder, and knocking Beecham clear of the shot. Court snagged Ferguson’s arm, sending his next shot into the ground.
The sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air vibrated in the distance. Court glanced up. It had to be Daniel Austin. He prayed it was Austin. The rhythmic whoop-whoop grew louder, signaling their nearness. Then all hell broke loose.
Court lunged at Ferguson, who was struggling toward Sabrina. They went down together, Ferguson’s weapon flying uselessly in another direction. Court caught him by the throat and squeezed. Ferguson fought hard, flopping like a fish, throwing Court onto his back. Court got in a punch before Ferguson could get a choke-hold on him. The blow rattled Ferguson for an instant. Court swung again, his fist connecting hard with the man’s jaw. Ferguson crumpled.
Court pushed an unconscious Ferguson off him and scrambled to his feet. He had to get to Sabrina. Steadying himself, Court scanned the crazed crowd. Where the hell was she? Then he spotted her. Markham was attempting to force her into the car. Court ran like hell in that direction and propelled himself over the hood, sliding to the other side and landing right behind Markham.
Markham swung around to face Court, with Sabrina pulled against him like a shield. “Don’t come near me or I’ll shoot her. I swear I will!”
Court ignored all sounds, including the exchange of gunfire, and concentrated only on the man in front of him. “Jed, just calm down, buddy.” Court swallowed back the fear climbing into his throat. Sabrina’s face was sheet-white, her eyes wide with terror.
“I just wanna get outta here,” Jed told him, his expression nearly as frightened as Sabrina’s.
Court had to tread very carefully, the man was on the edge, scared out of his mind. Confused by what he’d seen and heard. “I understand.” Court eased closer. “You can go. All you have to do is drop your weapon and release Sabrina. I don’t have any beef with you. Just let her go and you can leave.”
Jed shook his head. He glanced at the turmoil behind Court. “I don’t think so. They’re killing one another over there.”
The helicopter had landed, but the shots and heated shouts continued to fly behind Court. “Okay, buddy, then you take me and release Sabrina,” Court offered, m
oving closer still.
Sabrina cried out, the gag preventing her from speaking. She shook her head adamantly in an effort to change Court’s mind.
“You armed?” Jed studied Court cautiously.
Court lifted his arms above his head and turned all the way around for the man to see that he wasn’t. His pulse quickened as hope flickered inside him. He had to see that Sabrina was safe.
“All right.” Jed stepped around Sabrina, taking a bead on Court. “You’ll do.”
“Stay down, Brin,” Court told her. “Stay down behind one of the vehicles until this is over.”
Sobbing, she obediently sank to the ground.
Anxious, Jed glanced around. “Let’s get outta here.”
“Lower your weapon, Jed,” Court warned, “before somebody from my team sees you and thinks you intend to kill me.”
Further confused, Jed just stood there staring at him. Court took the weapon from his hand and ushered the man toward the tree line. “Go,” he told him. “Get the hell out of here.”
Jed blinked once, still uncertain, then he ran as fast as he could into the woods. Court hurried back to Sabrina. He pulled her to her feet and untied the gag. While he fumbled with the ropes on her hands he surveyed the turmoil only a few yards away. Austin and the ATF appeared to have the situation under control now. The Confidential crew had recognized the need for ATF backup. Good thing, Court mused. He couldn’t tell anything about the casualty rate yet, but several bodies littered the ground.
“Court!” With her hands free now, Sabrina hugged him close. “I thought they killed you last night.” She cried in earnest against his chest.
Court held her as tightly as he dared. “They probably would have if Neely wasn’t such a pompous fool. He wanted to make a big production of it.” He exhaled wearily. “Which probably saved both our lives.”
He drew back from her enough to look into her eyes. “I thought I told you to hightail it on over to the Lonesome Pony.”
She swiped at her damp cheeks. “I made a mistake and then Ferguson and his men came for us.”
“Where’s Ryan?” His heart stalled between beats.
“I hid him in the old fruit cellar with Mrs. Cartwright.”
Court smiled his relief. “Good thinking.” He kissed her forehead. “You did good, Brin.”
She shuddered. “But Charlie slipped out of the house before they got there. I’m praying that he didn’t go back to the compound.”
Court thought about that for a minute. “I don’t think he did. We were there until around two this morning making preparations and then we headed here. If he’d shown up I think I would have seen him.”
She pushed away the strands of hair the gag had worked loose from her ponytail. “Where would he go?”
“Court, you okay?” Daniel Austin skidded to a stop next to them. His concerned gaze traveled first over Court, then over Sabrina. “We were really worried about you, buddy.”
“We’re fine.” Court felt better knowing Austin was here. He frowned then. “What the hell are you doing here?” Coming into a situation like this was risky. Austin should have stayed clear of the danger and let the ATF handle it. They’d stayed out of the picture as long as they intended to, Court felt certain.
Austin shrugged. “I had to make sure you were okay.”
So the guy cared.
“Kyle’s over there with a small bomb squad unit to handle transporting the Demo,” Austin went on to explain.
Court searched for Kyle in the group of militia soldiers being handcuffed and read their rights. The sandy-haired Confidential agent appeared deeply engrossed in a conversation with five other men, including Fahey. A serious expression held the place of the quick grin that usually spread so effortlessly across Kyle Foster’s face. Court needed to get over there, but the thought of leaving Sabrina made him hesitate.
“What’s the tally over there?”
“We’ve got seven dead, including Neely and Ferguson.”
Startled by that announcement, Court snapped his gaze to Austin’s. “Ferguson? I knocked him cold. He shouldn’t—”
“He’s dead, Court,” Austin repeated solemnly.
Court swore. With both Neely and Ferguson dead, that reduced the likelihood of discovering Neely’s ultimate goal down to next to nothing.
Austin smiled, a weary expression. “But we got Fahey. The ATF guys are as happy as ticks on a dog.”
“We needed Neely alive.” Court scrubbed a hand over his face. “Neely was definitely working with the Black Order. But I don’t know to what end.” Court shrugged tiredly. “Hell, maybe Fahey knows something, but I doubt it. Neely liked to keep things close, then announce them with as much showy display as possible.”
“I think we should call your Bureau pals at Quantico,” Austin suggested, “and have them send us a special interrogator for Fahey and the surviving lieutenants.” Austin scanned the arrest activities taking place around them. “If Fahey knows anything, the guys from Quantico’ll get it out of him.”
I think? Was Austin actually asking Court’s advice? “That sounds like a good plan.” The nod Court received in response told him that Austin had, in fact, wanted his input.
“Sabrina!”
Sabrina whipped around at the sound of Charlie’s voice. “Charlie!” Faint with relief, she opened her arms just in time for Charlie to run into them. “God, Charlie, I was so afraid something had happened to you.”
“What the hell is he doing here?” Court demanded, his arm still curled around Sabrina’s back.
She was so thankful that they were all safe. Now, if she just had Ryan in her arms.
“He wouldn’t have it any other way,” Austin explained. “He said if we didn’t bring him here he’d follow us in his old pickup truck, and trust me, that would have been even more dangerous.”
Sabrina pushed Charlie back and took a good look at him just to be sure he was unharmed. “How did you know to go to Mr. Austin?”
“I heard the whole thing!” Charlie said, his eyes wide with remembered fear. “I’d just climbed out of my bedroom window when I heard somebody drive up. By the time I got around to the side of the house, Ferg was already in there with you. I could hear everything he said through the window. I’d done heard you tell Mrs. Cartwright that we’d all go to the Lonesome Pony the next morning. So I knew where to go. I couldn’t let ’em hurt you.” Charlie lowered his gaze. “I can’t believe I trusted him.”
Sabrina hugged him tight again. “It’s okay. A lot of people trusted Ferguson.” Pride bloomed in her chest. Charlie was a hero. But she still didn’t know about her baby. “What about Ryan and Mrs. Cartwright? Are they okay?” She had to know if her baby was safe. “Did you help them out of the cellar?”
“They’re at the Lonesome Pony,” Austin put in quickly. “Safe and sound.”
“Thank God,” Court breathed the words.
Sabrina patted the hand resting on her waist and gave Court her best smile. “We’re all safe.” She frowned suddenly. “But how did you get to the Lonesome Pony?” she asked Charlie, the question only now filtering through her haze of relief. “Did Mrs. Cartwright drive you?”
Charlie shook his head adamantly. “Naw, she was too upset when I pulled her outta that fruit cellar. She said she shoulda stayed in her own bed.”
A bark of laughter burst from Sabrina. The poor old lady. She had wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed, but Sabrina had insisted that she stay with her. “Did Mrs. Cartwright have her medicine with her?”
Charlie nodded. “And just as soon as she took it, we headed to Mr. Austin’s place.”
Sabrina’s eyes rounded. “You drove?”
“I sure did!” He beamed a bright smile. “Got us there in one piece, too.”
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, young man,” Austin said skeptically. “You did clear out a fence row here and there before you got that truck parked.”
Red flagged Charlie’s cheeks. “I’ll fix your fence for
you, Mr. Austin.”
Austin smiled. “You don’t worry about that fence, Charlie. I’d rather you concentrate on driving lessons.”
Sabrina hugged Charlie’s shoulders. “You did good, Charlie boy. I knew I could count on you when the chips were down.”
His gaze turned somber again. “I’m sorry about all that stuff I said,” he mumbled. “I don’t wanna go back to the militia compound anymore.”
“Good.” Sabrina blinked back the tears brimming in her eyes. It felt good to have her brother back. She hugged him until she thought her arms would fall off. “We’re going to be fine, Charlie, I promise.”
“Brin, I need to check on Raymond and Fahey,” Court said softly. She’d forgotten he was still standing beside her. Austin had disappeared.
She nodded and offered Court a watery smile. They were safe, and right now that was all that mattered. She watched him stride across the clearing. She would deal with his decisions concerning their son later. Right now she was too physically and mentally exhausted to feel anything but relief.
“I love you, Charlie,” she murmured in her brother’s ear.
“I love you, sis.”
Court surveyed the wounded. The paramedics appeared to be doing a pretty good job of patching up Raymond. The bullet had gone clear through, apparently not hitting anything vital.
“That was a brave thing you did, Raymond,” Court told him. It was only Raymond’s quick thinking that saved Beecham. “I’ll make sure that’s considered when they try your case.”
Raymond lifted his gaze to Court’s. None of the animosity or bitterness Court had fully expected was there. Only a heavy sadness.
“I didn’t know it would be this way.” Raymond shook his head. “I didn’t know.”
Court squeezed the man’s good shoulder. “I know, buddy. I know.”
Seven of Neely’s soldiers were dead. Neely lay alongside the very man, one of his own followers, who had apparently killed him. Court shook his head at the irony of it all. How did lunatics like Neely ever make it this far? If they could figure that out maybe they could prevent days like this from happening again. Court scanned the clearing, then the wide Montana sky. Another eagle, or hell, maybe it was the same one, flew overhead, viewing the havoc left by an egomaniac and his followers.
