Montana Guardian: A Guardian Security Novella (The Kings of Guardian)

by Kris Michaels

  Working in close quarters, he and Cassie managed to resist the attraction they felt for each other. Until they didn’t. Was it a huge fuck-up on his part? Hell yes. Unprofessional, undisciplined and against every ethics standard he’d sworn to uphold. He didn’t care. The simple, beautiful woman was it for him.

  Another team relieved them, and Sierra team traveled back to the States—where Cassie fucking disappeared without so much as a word. When they arrived in Atlanta, he’d told her he’d meet her in the hotel lobby at six. She never showed. He called Guardian, and the only answer he received was that her contract was over. Due to her electives on her contract, her personal information couldn’t be given out without written permission. A fucking Catch-22 situation. He couldn’t get her information without written permission, but he couldn’t get written permission without her personal information. He felt like his face had been used as a jackhammer against the largest fucking brick wall in Atlanta. No matter what favors he called in or what strings he pulled, he couldn’t get her contact information.

  Van sucked air in and pushed it out, counting to three between each action. The woman had played him. Hard. He’d never seen deceit in her eyes, had never seen the thoughtlessness and coldness of heart it had to have taken just to say, ‘Fuck you,’ and walk away. Hell, the woman hadn’t even given him the courtesy of those two words. He scrubbed his face and leaned forward. Besides the friendship they’d developed, he knew they'd clicked...and in a special way. They fit together in a fashion he’d never experienced before, and he absolutely knew Cassie Valentine was the woman he could have spent the remainder of his life loving.

  I’m so fucked. Cassie. He turned to look out the window. His superiors had put his back against a stone wall. He had to go. The woman had gutted him, and it had taken the last year for him to deal with the way she’d just walked away. He shook his head again. Fuck, he really thought they had something. Obviously, Cassie didn’t feel the same way. He wiped his chin with a hand, ruffling his beard before he combed it back down. He had no choice. He would do what he was instructed because he was loyal and a damn good team leader. He’d find Cassie, relay the message, bring her in—and not one damn thing more.

  Jewell King disconnected Van Wheeler from the three-way call.

  Kannon Starling immediately growled over the phone, “You better know what you’re doing.”

  Starling’s grandstanding didn’t faze her. She had five brothers and an ex-assassin for a husband, all of whom could growl and snarl far more effectively than the Ops O. “I do know what I’m doing. I believe you know I have the authority to reroute assets as necessary to ensure operations underway are not impeded or exposed.”

  “Emergency protocols, yeah, I get it, but I don’t see an emergency here. I don’t like it. Splitting that team up was wrong. I don’t like not knowing what the mission is. My clearance is high enough. You need to feed me some information or I’ll go to Alpha.”

  “My clearance is higher than Alpha’s, and he hasn’t been read into this op. You could go to Archangel and demand the information.” Jewell smirked at her hands-free device. She had him over a barrel.

  “Get my men back to me ASAP,” Starling groused before he cut the connection.

  Jewell leaned back in her huge leather chair and pulled her feet up, wrapping her arms around her legs, leaning her chin on her knees. There was no way the man would go over her head to her brother Jason. Nobody wanted to deal with Archangel.

  She scanned the code that rolled up her computer screen. Her programs hadn’t been able to crack it. A shit storm was brewing. If Starling did go to one of her brothers to demand answers, she had enough information to justify her actions. Her gut told her the messages she’d stumbled across on the dark net were dangerous. She just couldn’t prove it. Yet. Guardian needed Cassie Valentine. There was no one better at what she did.

  Chapter 2

  Van maneuvered the vehicle out of Wisdom and found the road to Buckskin Junction without the aid of the GPS. There had been some growth in the hamlet of Wisdom, but not much. Once they got on the road, his mind drifted back in time. He could barely remember the town of Buckskin Junction, but he did remember driving up to Butte to the hardware store with his grandfather. It didn’t matter what they went to buy, a brown paper bag filled with nails, a new ax head, or even a broom, his grandfather would let him carry the treasure to the truck before they would head home and go to the one and only diner in Buckskin Junction. One of his most vivid memories of the small town was the banana cream pie his grandfather would order. They would always split it. Damn, his mouth watered at the memory.

  “We are not in Kansas anymore, Toto.” Travis spoke low as he gazed out the window to the west. The Bitterroot Mountains were majestic. Van remembered that sense of awe, too. He would sit and stare at the mountain range from his grandfather’s porch during the long summers of his childhood.

  The small town came into view, and he decelerated. The land that time forgot. His hazy memories sharpened as the dusty streets and vintage buildings fired long forgotten memories. He turned off the interstate and followed the directions on his GPS to the sheriff’s substation. Not that it was difficult to find. A marked county sheriff’s car was parked out front. He’d been instructed to check in with the local law enforcement before he met up with Isiah Reichs at the Stirrup. It was a dive at the edge of the small settlement that had been there as long as Van could remember. He glanced at his watch. His meeting with Reichs was set for eight, and it was just now six.

  He pulled up behind the marked cars and cut off his engine. He and Travis got out of the Guardian SUV and stretched. They’d been traveling for the last twenty-four hours. They departed on time last night, landed in South Dakota, and after meeting with Guardian personnel at the training complex at the base of the Black Hills, they drove to their destination in Montana. They took US 212 to Interstate 90 and soaked in all the vastness that South Dakota, Wyoming, and Montana. The grandeur of the vistas was enough to make a person feel small and insignificant.

  He opened the door to the sheriff’s office and walked in, leaving Travis to stare at the mountains.

  “Hey, can I help you?” A deputy looked up from behind the desk where he sat. The old computer in front of him cast a bluish-green glow. Van glanced up at the unlit strips of fluorescent bulbs.

  “Forget to pay your electric bill?”

  The deputy leaned back in his chair. “Computer still has power.”

  Van laughed, not wanting to cross swords with the local officials. “So it does.”

  “The fluorescent lights give me one hell of a headache.” He leaned forward and stared at Van before he glanced out the glass door and took a look at Travis. “What can I do for you?”

  “My people called Sheriff Black yesterday. The name is Wheeler, I’m with Guardian Security.”

  “That so? We had a family of Wheelers who lived over in the next valley. Had a big ole ranch before the family sold it. Those real estate developer types chopped it up and built designer ranches.”

  Van nodded. “That would have been my grandfather’s land. My father sold it after he passed.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Small world. How did a country boy like you end up working for a hoity-toity organization like Guardian?”

  Van laughed. He’d heard Guardian called many things, but hoity-toity was a new one. “I hired on with them when I got out of the Marine Corps. Is the sheriff around?”

  “Nope. He had to go up to Butte. He meets up with all the local law enforcement representatives about once every other month, weather permitting. You know, troopers, municipal cops, and the like? If you ask me, it’s a great way to get up there and eat at a fancy restaurant. Not too many excuses to do that. Anyway, he’ll be back to work tomorrow morning. I can call him if necessary.”

  Van glanced over his shoulder as Travis walked in before he turned back to the deputy. “Could you leave a note for the sheriff and tell him we’re in town. I’ve got a m
eeting with Isiah Reichs tonight to see if we can get a lead on a woman we are trying to connect with.”

  “Yeah, who is that? I know just about everyone in these parts.” The deputy picked up a cellophane-wrapped toothpick and stripped the cover off before he popped it into the side of his mouth.

  “Cassie Valentine.” Travis volunteered the name and extended his hand. “Travis Coleman.”

  The deputy stood and shook Travis’s hand. “Never heard of her. You sure you got the right neck of the woods?”

  “Our information comes from a very reliable source. Thank you for your time, Deputy.”

  “You headed back to Butte tonight?”

  “Nope, staying at the bed and breakfast.” Van tapped the counter twice and threw the deputy a two-finger salute as they left the building.

  Travis stopped and looked toward the west again. “Skipper, that is one beautiful view. Why on earth did you let your old man sell your grandpa’s ranch?”

  “Like I had any choice. Hell, I was fifteen. My old man hates the country. He’s city, through and through. Besides, I wouldn’t have had a clue how to manage the land or livestock properly.”

  Van turned the SUV around and drove the short distance to the diner. The place hadn’t changed. Even the paint color was the same.

  “Food any good?” Travis asked as he got out of the vehicle.

  “Used be. Can’t vouch for it now, but I need to eat something that doesn’t come from a gas station.

  “Hey, those pickled eggs and hot dogs were good.” Travis slugged his arm and ducked away when Van punched him back.

  “Dude, nobody eats that crap. You have no idea how long that shit had been rolling around on that warmer, and I swear, pickled eggs? How can you eat that shit?” Van opened the door and the rich, warm smell of home cooking immediately assaulted him.

  They found a vacant booth toward the back and slid in. A harried waitress hustled to their table.

  “Hi, my name is Mavis, and I’ll be your server.” She lifted an order pad and pulled a pen out from behind her ear. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Ice water and a cup of coffee, please.” Travis picked up the menu that Mavis had slapped down on the table.

  “Make that two.” Van echoed the order. The waitress gave them a quick smile and exited stage left. He searched the clientele. Several older couples occupied adjoining tables and he wondered if they might have known his grandfather. His father had left as soon as he’d graduated high school, and he’d never returned. Hell, he hadn’t even flown with Van when he sent Van to his grandfather’s every summer. At the age of six, he’d negotiated the flight and gate attendants that shuffled him from point A to point B on his own.

  “So, Skipper, when are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

  Van swung his attention back to Travis and slowly lifted one eyebrow, daring his friend to continue that line of thought.

  “No, seriously. Cassie left you high and dry with no reason or explanation.”

  Travis shook his head, and Van took the opportunity to stop the conversation. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “How can we not talk about it? I mean, we are here to go fetch her out of whatever off-the-grid commune she’s living in. It isn’t like you two aren’t going to meet when we give her the message, and from the sounds of it, she could be traveling with us if she accepts the assignment. Just saying…the elephant is pretty fucking big and sooner or later you two will have to talk. I’ll make myself scarce when it does, but damn it, Van, she’s got a lot to explain.”

  Mavis appeared with their drinks. “Ready to order?” She pulled some individual creamers and sugar packets out of her apron and piled them at the center of the table.

  Travis gave her one of his 100-watt smiles before he asked, “What do you recommend?”

  Mavis laughed turning several heads their direction. “Honey, this isn’t a five-star restaurant. Everything here is good, solid food. The pies are fantastic.”

  “Okay, well then I’ll have…” Travis opened the menu, closed his eyes, and pointed. When he opened his eyes, he laughed. “Guess I’ll have the patty melt, fries, and a chocolate shake, please.”

  Mavis gave him a smile, scribbled on her pad and looked at Van.

  “Chicken and dumplings and banana cream pie for dessert.”

  “Alright, I’ll put this in.” She spun on her heel and darted away from the table again.

  “I didn’t forget what we were talking about.” Travis leaned back in the booth. “I’ve spent the last year putting you back together. She doesn’t get to break you again.”

  He gave a burst of humorless laughter. “She didn’t break me.”

  “Oh no? When was the last time you went out with the team? The last time you did anything besides train and hole up in your apartment? When were you last on a date?” Travis lifted his fingers as he spoke as if ticking items off a list. “When was the last time you thought of any other woman?”

  Van held Travis’s stare for several long seconds. He couldn’t dispute a damn thing Travis had said. He had retreated into himself. Fuck, when you think you’ve met ‘the one’ and she leaves without a backward glance, you tend to become introspective. He’d searched his mind for any clue, any indication Cassie hadn’t felt the same way he did. Granted, they hadn’t said the words, but he’d shown her he loved her. Hell, he’d wanted to wait until they got back to the States to tell her, so he could treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Wine, dinner, dancing, and a proposal. Fuck, he wanted to do right by her, and all the while she was plotting her stealth mode escape. That did a number on a man’s confidence. So, no, he hadn’t gotten back on the horse. He didn’t want a hook-up; besides, he had his right hand for relief.

  What he wanted were answers. He ground his teeth together. He’d be damned if he’d ask. He didn’t want to put himself on the line to be torn to shreds—again. That woman had stomped the fuck out of his heart. He wasn’t going to give her the pieces he’d managed to cobble together. Van leaned back in the booth and chucked a creamer at Travis. “Drop it. We are doing this mission and getting the fuck out of Dodge. Professional, quick, and it is over.”

  “Good luck with that.” Travis threw the creamer back at him.

  The little plastic tub went ninety degrees to the right and Van had to lean into the aisle to catch it. He sat up and lifted the foil top, plopping the liquid into his coffee. “Man, I thank God you never had to use a hand grenade when we were in the military.”

  “Damn, that hurts, Skipper.” Travis grabbed his chest and winced.

  Mavis brought their food out and plunked the huge platters in front of them.

  “You need anything else, just let me know.” She didn’t wait around for any commentary but hustled back to the kitchen window loading her arms down with plates.

  “God, this looks amazing.” Travis reached for the ketchup and squeezed a huge pool onto his plate. “Breakfast here?”

  Van shrugged, “After I run. Sitting all day sucked.” He lifted a spoonful of fluffy dumplings and chicken. An explosion of flavor in his mouth forced an almost orgasmic eye roll. Damn, maybe he’d double the run and take a lunch to go.

  They managed to eat everything on their plates and Travis added to his order with a piece of apple pie and homemade vanilla ice cream. The banana cream pie was everything Van remembered. He hadn't realized how much he missed this place.

  Travis stretched as they exited the diner. They’d both left Mavis one hell of a tip. The entire time they were in the establishment the woman never slowed down. She had to have walked a half marathon while they were eating.

  “The Stirrup is over there.” He pointed to the old house off the street and about two blocks away. “That’s where we’ll meet Reichs. Let’s get our bags stowed and head over. We can nurse a cold one while we wait for him.”

  Van let his eyes adjust to the dim interior before he and Travis made their way to the
bar. A big guy ambled over and tossed two coasters in front of them.

  “Howdy. Name’s Melvin.” The man extended his hand and he took it.

  “Van, this is Travis.”

  The guy’s grip was intense, so Van met power with power, earning him a slight nod when the handshake ended. He couldn’t help but notice the bartender played the same game with Travis. His XO’s grip tightened to the point where Melvin shook his hand out when they finished.

  “What can I get you two?”

  “I’ll have whatever’s on tap.” Travis reached for a small bowl of nuts and pulled them toward him.

  “The same.” He shook his head. “Dammit, man, we just finished eating.”

  “Dude, that was like…fifteen minutes ago. It’s already settled.”

  Melvin set the tall frosty mugs of beer in front of them. “You two just passing through?”

  “Looking to meet up with someone.” Van took a drink of the ice-cold beer after he answered the bartender.

  “Yeah? Who would that be?”

  “Isiah Reichs.” Travis offered.

  “Really? So, I’m guessing you’ve never met him?”

  “Nope. Supposed to meet up with him here in about ten minutes.”

  Melvin braced his large arms on the bar and nodded toward the round booth along the back corner of the wall. “That would be him, the one wearing the blue shirt.”

  He turned on his stool and glanced the direction the bartender had indicated. Grabbing his beer, he motioned to Travis and tossed Melvin a “thank you” over his shoulder. He made his way to the booth, interrupting a conversation between the occupants.

  “Isiah Reichs? I’m Van Wheeler and this is Travis Coleman.