by Margaret Kay
“We have four more uniforms at the back edge of the bleachers, two on each side,” the other cop said.
Gary still watched the suspects. They paid too much attention to his family and Kennedy for his liking. Even though he doubted they would recognize Kennedy, it made him nervous. Sloan made eye contact with one of the cops. He was six-four and looked like he worked out a lot. His neck was so thick, he looked like a linebacker from the NFL. And he looked familiar.
“You played on the team, a junior when I was a senior, under Coach Paul, didn’t you?” He glanced at the cop’s name on his vest, Dahlman. “Drake Dahlman?”
“Yes,” he said, shaking his head. “I wondered if you’d recognized me. We had an amazing team that year, nearly made state. I think they had our kicker on suicide watch that night he missed the field goal during that last playoff game. I know we could have taken the Rockets if we’d gone to state.”
“Yeah, that would have been something. This team looks pretty good. My nephew is on it.” He smiled as he talked, looking more casual. The suspects glanced their way every few minutes. “They’re both standing with their hands over the top of the fence. We could take them down pretty easily without either of them having a chance to grab their weapons. They’re eying their target too much for my liking. They’ve also glanced at us a few too many times. I wouldn’t doubt if they were calculating the odds of walking up on her, shooting her where she stands and disappearing into the crowd.”
“Do you really think these two would be that brazen?” The other officer asked.
“They’re paid assassins,” Sloan replied.
“I’ll contact the chief for approval to take them down,” the bigger of the two cops replied. He turned his back and squeezed the transmit button on his radio.
Just then, the two men moved away from the fence. They headed towards the side of the bleachers and the path that led to the parking lots.
“Shit,” Sloan cursed. His eyes scanned the path. There were about thirty or forty civilians walking either direction. “You got anyone at the end of that path?”
“Negative,” the cop replied.
“Tell your team we’re taking them now on the path. No notification, just take them down, secure their hands and recover their weapons. I want three men on each suspect.” He made eye contact with the built cop. “You remember our Hornet Sting Side Assault Play?”
The big cop smiled and nodded. “You still got the speed you once had?”
“You better believe it,” Sloan said as the three men headed towards the path. “You’re primary on the jean jacket. I’m taking the leather jacket. Tell your elderly plainclothes, he’s on the jean jacket with you and the Hornet Hoody dude is with me and you,” he said pointing to the other officer. “Get another uniform on jean jacket suspect.”
Kennedy tried to keep her eyes off the two men who’d killed Melody. She trusted Gary, but her eyes had a mind of their own and every few seconds she found herself glancing towards them, just to be sure they still stood thirty yards away. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if they began to walk towards her. Beyond them, she saw Gary talking with the two cops near the endzone.
She was getting antsy when the two killers moved away from the fence and headed behind the bleachers. Then she saw Gary and the cops follow. This was it. They were going to try to arrest the two men. She was scared to death, scared for Gary. She knew what he did was dangerous, and this was probably nothing different from what he did while away on a mission, but the thought he could be hurt or killed going after these guys to protect her, hit her hard.
“What’s the matter, Kaylee?” Allen asked.
“Gary’s going after them. They all just went behind the bleachers.”
Allen still didn’t know what this was about. He hadn’t asked Kaylee after Sloan moved away. He’d only quietly alerted Kaylee and Leslie to what Gary had said. “After who?” He whispered.
“The two men who killed Melody are here,” she whispered so only Allen and Leslie could hear.
“Oh, my God!” Leslie gasped quietly. She held her girls more tightly to herself.
Sloan stepped away at the corner of the bleachers. The two plain clothes cops were half-way between them and the suspects. The two uniformed cops who had been behind the bleachers were waiting where they were. Sloan nodded to them.
“Let’s go,” he said softly and then took off running out in the field to the right, weaving between the parked cars that belonged to the players. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Dahlman, doing the same, sprinting off the path in a big circle that would lead him back to the two suspects from the left to take his man down, like he did to countless receivers on the football field.
Sloan plotted the intercept point and adjusted his speed. He came in from slightly behind the man, exploding onto the path with only two pounding footsteps before he grabbed the leather-jacketed scumbag by the back of the shoulders, as his leg helped to trip the man, pushing him forward. He fell atop him, grasping both the man’s wrists. The young black cop was right in there, helping to secure the man.
Beside him, Dahlman tackled the jean-jacketed suspect, with a violent take down, knocking him clean off the path. He must have been dazed. Dahlman had him in cuffs, hands behind his back in seconds.
“A .380,” the cop said, examining the gun he’d just taken from leather-jacket man’s hip. “You are under arrest,” he said. “You got any other weapons on you?”
The man did not answer.
The hoody-cop secured cuffs on their suspect and then Sloan and the cop pulled him to his feet. The cops searched both men, recovering knives from each, and leather-jacket man had a snub nose .38 in his boot. He also had a phone with a text message displayed: I don’t care if you are sure or not if she’s Kennedy, Melody, or some redheaded lookalike. Kill her.
Sloan called into Ops. He gave them the info on the phone. He’d bring it back with him so the digital team could figure out who had sent the text. He assumed it was Phil Lewensky, probably on a burner phone. “There’s a deal for you if you talk. Who sent this text to you?”
Neither man answered.
“What were you doing at this game?”
Silence was the reply.
“Were you watching the Bristow residence?”
No reply, but one of the men did glance away at that question. That had to be it. Sloan wasn’t sure how he missed the tail to the game.
Finally, Gary and two of the police officers appeared from where they had disappeared. Kennedy glanced behind him. No one followed. As he neared, she ran to him and swallowed him up in an embrace, holding him tightly. “What happened, where are they?”
“In police custody.” His voice was a whisper
“Do the cops know who they are and what they did?”
Sloan pulled away, so he held her a few inches in front of himself. “Shh,” he hushed her. “Yes, and the FBI will take custody of them sometime tonight. Jurisdictions will be blurred. They’re wanted here for murder, but the FBI will want them for the murder for hire and their links to the L.A. sex case.” His voice was a barely audible murmur.
“Did they recognize me?”
“I don’t think so, but the cops will let me know.” He wouldn’t tell her the truth in that moment. She didn’t need to worry about that now. He would tell her when they were home and safe.
“I won’t have to give a statement or testify, will I?”
“I’m hoping they’ll flip on whoever hired them to come after you for a reduced sentence and it won’t ever go to court. We’ll worry about that later. You don’t have to do anything tonight.” He glanced at Allen, who stood back a few feet, giving them their moment. Kennedy still trembled in his arms. “It’s over. You’re safe, Kennedy,” he whispered.
“No, Kennedy is dead. Kaylee is safe. I finally feel like her, like a different person. I’m not Kennedy, not the Kennedy who lived in L.A. I’m Kaylee Cole, your fiancé and I love you with everything that I am.” She embraced him and
held him like she never had. “I love our life in Chicago in our tiny condo. I love our friends, and my new job. I was so afraid when I saw you go after them and the thought of losing you and what we have, was terrifying.” She pulled away just enough to look into his beautiful pale green eyes. “I love you, Gary.”
Sloan was overwhelmed by her emotional statement. “I love you too, Kaylee. Don’t worry about losing me or what we have. That’s never going to happen.”
And from that point on, Sloan vowed to only address her as Kaylee. Kennedy Bristow was dead. This new woman, vibrant, alive, and full of hope was Kaylee Cole, the love of his life, his future wife and the future mother of his children. She was the one he was in love with, not a memory of a lost relationship.
He knew that life had a way of working out exactly the way it was supposed to. His life would never have been what it was, had he and Kennedy stayed together and gotten married a decade ago. He loved what his life had been, and what it was now. He looked forward to what it would be over the next decade and beyond, with Kaylee. The future would be the best part of his life yet, and he vowed to enjoy and appreciate every moment of it with her.
The End
The Shepherd Security Series
Book 1: Operation Protected Angel
Book 2: Operation Recruited Angel
Book 3: Operation Dark Angel
Book 4: Operation Fallen Angel
Book 5: Operation Departed Angel
Book 6: Operation Bayou Angel - Coming soon
Acknowledgements
I truly say thank you, to you, the reader, for choosing this book. If you enjoyed it, would you please leave a review, so others might find this book to enjoy, as well? As an Independent Author, without a publishing house to help advertise my work, I rely on reviews from readers such as you and followers on social media to promote me. Thank you! I would greatly appreciate it.
Thank you to my sisters, RK Cary and Charlie Roberts, who are writing their own Romance books. RK has finished up her Destined & Redeemed series and has several other Science Fiction/Fantasy stories in the works. Charlie is working on a contemporary romance series, the Stevens Street Gym Series. Both have been wonderful friends with the honesty and encouragement that only a sister can give. Check out their work on Amazon! Links directly to all our books on Amazon can be found on our website. The link is below.
Thank you to my wonderful and supportive husband for his patience and love while I spend hours upon hours to research and write this story. Also, for advising me on any parts of this story requiring knowledge of the military or weapons that I did not have.
Thank you to my mother who shared with me her love of books. As a child, the wonderful example my mother set for me as an avid reader led my sisters and me to write our stories. She has encouraged me to publish and I thank her for her support.
My friend, photographer, and graphic artist, Harry R., shot all the covers for this series. Thank you, Harry!
A big thank you to my girlfriends who have encouraged me and made me feel that I could do this at the times I felt insecure in my ability to accomplish this. You know who you are ladies! You hold a special place in my heart.
Thank you to my editors, a special callout to Evelin, who gave of her time selflessly to help me with the grammar, not my strongpoint.
The model for this cover, Craig Kastning is a Personal Trainer, Yoga Instructor, Fitness Model, Coach, Entrepreneur. Connect with him on Instagram@CKFit45, Twitter@Kastning45, or on Facebook: Facebook.com@theCraigKastning Thank you Craig!
About the Author
Hello! I am Margaret Kay. They say being a Military wife is the toughest job in the Armed Forces even though there is no MOS for the position. As the veteran of more than a few deployments, I have to agree. My husband proudly served eight years in the United States Navy in the 80s. That was before cell phones and the internet.
For anyone who’s never had a loved one who’s served, being associated with the military is being part of a special community of people who support each other, who understand what the day to day is like when your loved one is deployed half-way around the world.
Saying goodbye to your loved one as they leave on a lengthy deployment is unlike saying goodbye to someone for any other reason. It’s not like dropping a son or daughter at college or hugging an aging parent after a visit. Your military member is being deployed, part of a mission. You cannot go visit when you miss them too much. You know it’s different. You plan for it differently. They may be getting deployed into harm’s way. And even if they are not, you know what their purpose is and that they could be in harm’s way at any time.
The emotions you feel when you stand with other families, when the unit, boat, or flight returns after many months of separation cannot be described in words that bring adequate justice to it, but I will try. There is a level of excitement equaled only by a child’s wonder on Christmas morning. A pride in your country, in the unit, and in your loved one that surges through your vein’s as you, your children, and all around you hold American flags and signs welcoming them home, waiting all together sometimes for hours before they appear and make their way towards you. As a spouse, you’re hungering for your partner’s touch, for their lips to meet yours, and for the reunion that will occur later, when you’re alone. With that excitement also comes nervousness because it has been so long since you’ve been together as a couple, sharing your bed.
My husband honorably separated from the Navy and easily transitioned to civilian life, but I never forgot what it was like while he served. Many of our returning servicemen and women have not had it so easy. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers as they recover from physical and emotional injuries. Many struggle to find employment. If you have the ability in your work to encourage the hiring of a Vet, please do.
Our military members are special! I honor all past, present, and future members of our military with my stories. Salute the flag, stand for the national anthem, and thank a Vet for their service. Freedom is not free, a lot of people sacrificed for the freedoms we enjoy.
Don’t ever forget!
Margaret
Please stay in touch. I have more books in the Shepherd Security series in process plus two more, separate stories I think you will enjoy. And remember to check out my sister’s books. You can be kept abreast of my sister’s work and mine at our website:
Visit our website at: www.sistersromance.com
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