Christmas Justice

by Robin Perini

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  The bed shifted and she moved behind him. She rubbed the base of his neck. He groaned, feeling the tension that had been sitting there for so long dissipate. Her hands drifted down, in and out of his ability to feel.

  Her touch caressed his lower back. “Can you feel me?” she asked.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She nipped at the back of his neck with her teeth. “How about now?”

  “Oh, yes.” He let his head fall forward while she explored.

  Her touch danced just beneath his shoulder blade. A sharp prick raced through him and he tensed.

  “Did I hurt you?” She yanked her hands away.

  “Don’t,” he said. “Just the nerves going crazy.”

  “How many surgeries did you have, Garrett?”

  “More than I can count. Skin grafts, shrapnel got embedded into my back. I was a mess.”

  Her fingers returned to his shoulder blade. “I guess that’s what happened here. There’s evidence of sutures. It’s strange—”

  A loud beeping sounded from Garrett’s phone. He jumped to his feet. “Get dressed. Someone’s broken the perimeter.”

  Chapter Eight

  Laurel rolled off the bed and yanked on her jeans, slipping on her shirt as she raced after Garrett. She followed him out of the bedroom and into his office. He flipped on a switch on one of the consoles. A map flickered to life on the screen. Two green dots headed directly to the center.

  “They’re getting close to the cameras,” he said, turning on another switch. Three monitors buzzed on, the infrared images fuzzy.

  A few trees, but nothing more.

  Laurel slipped on her shoes and glanced down at the computer monitor where she’d been running the decryption program. “We don’t have the password yet,” she rushed out. “It hasn’t finished. What are we going to do?”

  Garrett stared at the monitors. Slowly a figure came into view. She squinted, then recognized a man pushing through the trees, his movements jerky, holding a weapon. A second person followed behind him.

  He let out a loud curse. “How did they find us so fast?”

  “Who are they?”

  “Not the family I saw earlier today. There were three of them. And no one was carrying an M16. I could recognize the outline anywhere.” Garrett scanned the room and grabbed a duffel from the corner, tossing it toward her. “Pack up what you and Molly need. Only the bare necessities. There’s not much time.”

  At Garrett’s grim expression, Laurel’s stomach twisted in fear. She raced from the room and quietly opened the door to the bedroom where Molly slept. Using the shard of light piercing through the slit, she fumbled for a few sets of clothes and toiletries. And Ivy’s family’s picture. Everything else was luxury. Except Mr. Hairy Houdini.

  She slipped out of the bedroom and back into the office. “Done.”

  Garrett sat at one of his monitors. “I’m wiping the entire system. It will disable everything and leave no trace.”

  “Are they close?”

  “They’re making a beeline for the cabin, but they’re still a half mile away. In the dark in the woods. Idiots.”

  “Do you recognize them?”

  Garrett grabbed a control stick and zoomed in. “No. How about you?”

  She squinted at the grainy green image. “I can’t tell.”

  The computer next to her sounded her college fight song. Garrett’s eyes widened, and she flushed. “We were...enthusiastic.”

  She plopped onto the chair. “I’ve got the password.” She typed it in. “I can download it.”

  Garrett typed in a few commands on his screen. “Copy it. We’re out of time.”

  Two figures appeared on the second screen. This time she could see the second man’s gun. Another automatic weapon.

  “Military-issue weapons,” she said.

  “Good eye. They’ve found us. No telling how many are out there. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “We should have had another twenty-four hours at least,” Laurel said. She looked over at Garrett. “This is my fault.”

  “Our opponent is better than we both thought.”

  “Do you have a thumb drive?” Laurel asked.

  He opened the drawer and handed her the small device. She stuck the drive into the system, copied the file, then ejected it.

  “We’re out of time.” He grabbed the Remington from a closet, slung the strap over his shoulder and hit a button. The computers started whirring.

  “Is it going to explode?” she asked.

  “Nothing so Mission: Impossible,” Garrett said. “Just wiped clean and its components melted down. Can you carry this?” He lifted up a small backpack.

  She took it from him and stuffed it into a duffel, zipping it up. She took her SIG and placed it in the back of her pants. She wished she had a holster. Next time she went on the run, she’d remember to bring one.

  “I’ll carry Molly.” He hurried into the spare bedroom. The little girl had sprawled on her back, clutching her stuffed animal. He slid his hands under her body and lifted her up over his shoulder, settling her on one arm and hip.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered, unclipping a narrow flashlight from his belt. “This has a red filter so it doesn’t kill the night vision. I’ll lead the way. Keep your weapon handy.”

  He quietly closed and locked the door behind him. Laurel balanced the duffel on her shoulder. They stepped into the darkness. Only the moon lit their way. He pointed the beam of light at the ground in front of him. “Don’t veer off this path. You could walk off a cliff.”

  Taking it slow but steady, they picked their way through the trees, around a series of rugged rocks, careful not to make any noise. Garrett jostled Molly once and she whimpered. He froze. Laurel held her breath. If Molly started crying she could give their location away.

  They started off again.

  A burst of gunfire in the distance peppered the night.

  Laurel hit the ground. Garrett knelt, covering Molly. She yelped in fear. He placed his hand on her mouth. “Molly, listen to me.”

  Laurel crawled over to Garrett. “I’m here with you, Molly Magoo. We have to be quiet, even if those noises are scary. Can you do that?”

  She nodded her head.

  Slowly, Garrett pulled his hand away. Molly slapped her hand on her mouth. “Good girl,” he said. “You’re very brave.”

  “Will Santa know?” she asked.

  “He’s definitely watching.”

  “Do Mommy and Daddy know?” Molly asked, her voice muffled through her fingertips.

  “They’re very proud of you, Molly Magoo.”

  “Lay your head on my shoulder, sugar. We’re getting out of here.”

  Laurel could tell, even in the moonlight, that Molly squeezed her eyes shut.

  Another bevy of gunfire erupted.

  Garrett didn’t slow. “It’s at the cabin. Keep moving.”

  A loud curse pierced the night.

  “He said a bad word,” Molly muttered. “Santa won’t visit his house.”

  “Definitely not,” Garrett said. “Hush now.”

  They trudged forward. It seemed so much farther back to the SUV than it had hiking up to the ranch house. Laurel focused on the ground in front of her. All she needed was to fall.

  She stepped on a twig and the dry wood cracked beneath her weight. Garrett stilled. She stopped, her heart quickening. He motioned her forward.

  Laurel didn’t know how long they walked before she finally recognized the outcropping of rocks ahead. Garrett paused. Laurel stopped as well, listening to the sounds of the night.

  In December, not many animals sounded their call. But neither did the men following.

  A twig snapped not that far behind them.

  “Go!” he shouted. Placing the keys in her hand, he pushed her through a gap in the rocks. The SUV was just feet away.

  “Take her.” Garrett shoved Molly into Laurel’s arms and took off running in the opp
osite direction.

  * * *

  GARRETT RACED AWAY from Laurel and Molly. How the hell had these guys found them? He slammed through the pine trees, making as much noise as possible. A gunshot echoed in the night, the bullet hitting a pine tree just above his ear. They had night vision. Great.

  Garrett took his flashlight and turned the powerful miniature beam on high, then flipped off the filter, shining the bright light in the direction of the fired shot.

  A curse of pain sounded toward him. The guy would be blinded for a few seconds. Garrett veered in the direction of the house. Anything to keep them away from Laurel and Molly. He prayed she’d gotten away, that no one else had intercepted them.

  “This way!” one of the men shouted. Footsteps pounded at him. They weren’t even trying to be quiet. He took a ninety-degree turn away from the ranch, toward some of the cliffs. He had to keep his bearings. A rock outcropping should be coming up to his right.

  Sure enough, the strange formation loomed from the ground.

  The men following him kept coming.

  The sound of a stumble, then a loud curse, filtered through the night. He hadn’t lost them. Garrett rounded the rock formation and paused. Fifteen feet away was the edge of a steep hill, its base jagged rocks. Dangerous, deadly and convenient.

  He flipped off his flashlight and raced toward the hill. Those guys trailed after him as though they had radar on him.

  Was he carrying a GPS? His phone shouldn’t be traceable. How did they have a bead on him? He couldn’t hear anything above him; a chopper would be crazy to fly at night in these mountains.

  No time to figure it out.

  He still couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t walking into a trap, if someone was waiting for him.

  “Laurel, I hope you got away.”

  He stopped in front of the drop-off. They shouldn’t have been able to find him, but the two men barreled into the clearing just in front of him.

  The red-filtered flashlight one of them carried crossed his body, and they stopped.

  A smile gleamed in the moonlight. “Two years late,” the man said, lifting his gun.

  Garrett dived to the side just as the man charged. The guy tried to skid to a halt, but momentum carried him over the side. He shouted out and disappeared down the hill.

  “Strickland!” the second man shouted. Garrett launched himself at the guy and pinned him. “Who are you?”

  The man shook his head.

  Garrett shoved the barrel of his Beretta beneath the guy’s chin. “I’m not playing games.”

  “Yeah, well, neither is my boss. I’m dead if I say anything.”

  The man’s eyes were resigned. A bad sign.

  “How about we make a deal?” Garrett said, easing the gun just a bit. “You tell me your boss’s name. I let you go. You disappear out here. You’re a few hours from the border.”

  A flare of hope flashed on the guy’s face before a gunshot sounded. A sharp burning slammed into Garrett’s back. His gun dropped from his hand. He rolled off the guy and behind a rock, his back screaming in pain. He sucked in a breath and blinked.

  His Beretta lay in the open.

  Strickland heaved himself up over the edge of the hill and lifted his M16. “Get out of there, Krauss, or so help me, I’ll shoot you, too.”

  Krauss scrambled away. Staggering toward Garrett, Strickland peppered the rock. Dust and shrapnel flew into the air.

  If it had been daylight, Garrett would be dead.

  Another blast of firepower and he was running out of time.

  “You’re dying this time, Bradley. Damn you. Your wife and kid weren’t even part of the deal.”

  The words slammed into Garrett’s pain-riddled brain. This son of a bitch had killed his family.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I set the bomb. You want to come out and face me?”

  Garrett rolled over, ignoring the pain in his back. Krauss pulled his weapon. This was a no-win.

  Then Krauss moved. Garrett had one chance. With a grunt, he launched himself at Krauss and shoved him into Strickland. Garrett’s weight forced them back toward the edge.

  They all teetered on the precipice. Garrett grabbed a protrusion of rock and stopped his fall. Strickland and Krauss disappeared over the side.

  Garrett could feel warmth seeping down his back as he climbed up the few feet. He flicked on his flashlight and peered over the side.

  The men lay against a rock, motionless. Krauss’s neck was bent at an unnatural angle, his eyes wide-open. Dead.

  Garrett moved the beam over.

  Blood covered Strickland’s face. He wasn’t moving. Garrett pointed his weapon at Strickland, but the guy didn’t move. He wanted to climb down, be sure. He needed to know the truth.

  A wave of dizziness stopped him. He fell down to his knees. A beeping noise just to his side grabbed his attention. He picked up a tablet. A red dot blinked. It was him. Damn it, how were they tracking him?

  He pulled everything out of his pockets. He’d bought the clothes in El Paso. It couldn’t be them.

  He didn’t have time to figure it out.

  He took one last look over the edge—Strickland still hadn’t budged. Garrett stumbled to his feet. He had to make sure Laurel and Molly were gone, out of here. Daniel would help.

  Garrett didn’t know how bad his wound was, but he had to make sure they were safe, and then he had to get as far away from them as he could. Because whoever had sent Strickland and Krauss wasn’t giving up.

  * * *

  THE GUNSHOTS HAD STOPPED. Laurel gripped her SIG, planting her hands firmly along the hood of the SUV.

  Molly sat in the backseat, hugging Mr. Houdini close. “Where is Sheriff Garrett? He wouldn’t leave us.”

  “He’ll be here,” Laurel said. He had to be here. She chewed on her fingernail.

  Suddenly a figure came stumbling out of the trees. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

  He looked up at her. “Garrett!” she shouted.

  “Get in,” he ordered and bounded into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he said, clearing his throat.

  Carefully she backed up and turned the SUV around. “Lights?” she asked.

  “On,” he said. “Get us out of here fast.”

  The beams hit the dirt road and she hit the gas.

  “Why the hell did you wait for me? What if I hadn’t come back?”

  “I have the number you gave me.” Laurel gripped the steering wheel. “I was getting ready to call Daniel Adams.”

  “I don’t know whether to be relieved you were here or turn you over my knee.” The SUV bounced and Garrett took a sharp intake of breath. Laurel flipped on the interior lights and looked over at him.

  His mouth was pinched and the light leather of his seat was streaked with red.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Just drive,” he ordered. “Get to the main road as fast as you can. Maybe we’ll be lucky and those two were the only ones following us. For now.”

  She urged the vehicle forward.

  Molly stuck her head between the seats. “Do you need a Band-Aid?” she asked. “I have princess ones. You can have my favorite if you want. Which princess do you like the best?”

  Garrett smiled at her. “You’re my favorite princess, sugar. And don’t you worry. It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

  Laurel’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He was lying to protect Molly. Tears stung Laurel’s eyes. She’d fallen hard for this man. He’d saved them yet again, but this time she really didn’t know if they’d make it out alive. Blood kept seeping onto the seat. She had to get him help.

  The nearest town was Trouble. She’d seen a clinic there. She could go back. Everyone knew him there. Someone would help.

  It took forever to reach the county road leading to Trouble. She finally got to the intersection.

  “Turn left,” Garrett said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m glad you agree. I’m getting you to a doctor.”

>   “I can’t now.” Garrett leaned his head back on the seat. “Keep driving straight.”

  After about fifteen minutes he turned his head to her. In the light of the interior his face had gone pale. “There’s a dirt road not too far from here. Pull over and let me out.”

  “No way—”

  “Do it, Laurel.”

  Against her better judgment, she pulled to the side and stopped the car.

  Garrett gripped the door handle and faced her. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Take this road. It circles down some back roads until you reach Rural Route 11. Follow that until you hit this highway again. Get to a phone, even if you have to buy a prepaid cell at a convenience store. Call Daniel Adams. Tell him what’s happening. He’ll take you to Covert Technology Confidential in Carder, Texas. They’ll protect you.”

  Daniel’s employer might be the only one that could hide Laurel and Molly from the agency and get away with it.

  She shook her head. “I won’t leave you. You’re hurt.”

  “Laurel, they’re tracking me. I don’t know how, but they are. You have to get away.”

  He opened the SUV door, but as soon as his boots hit the pavement he collapsed.

  She shoved open her door and ran around the car. “At least let me stop the bleeding before I leave. You can’t do it yourself.”

  He closed his eyes, then gave her a reluctant nod. Why did the thing that attracted her so much to Garrett have to be the very thing that could kill him?

  “There’s a T-shirt in my backpack. And a canteen. Wash off the wound and use the cotton as a bandage. Then you have to go.”

  “Are you fixing Sheriff Garrett, Aunt Laurel?”

  “That’s right, sugar,” Garrett said with a smile. “I’ll be good as new.”

  Liar.

  Laurel fished out the material and the water. She lifted his shirt and he passed her the flashlight. She gasped. Dried blood caked part of his back, but fresh still oozed from the wound. She didn’t know how he was still standing.

  She ripped the T-shirt in two and soaked half in water. She bathed his back, trying to be gentle. He didn’t even wince.

  Each pass removed more of the blood, revealing the scars. They weren’t all that bad. The horror of what he’d experienced far surpassed this permanent reminder.