Montana SEAL Friendly Fire (Brotherhood Protectors Book 11)

by Elle James

  She laughed. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Trevor sighed. “I’m still trying to find my way around the best buddy thing with Mason. In my heart, I know he’d be happy for us. But I still feel like I’m poaching on his territory.”

  Lana’s gaze dropped to her lap, her joy at being asked on a date overshadowed by her loss and her feelings of guilt. “I have some of the same feelings. Like I’m not being true to my husband.” She looked up. “Is it wrong to want to move on? I’m still alive. I can’t stop living my life.”

  “No, you can’t stop living. Had the roles been reversed, Mason would have grieved and moved on.”

  Lana nodded.

  They chose to eat Italian. Soon after they completed their meal, Lana got serious about finding enough clothes to wear for a week. She started in lingerie because a lady couldn’t go days without a change of panties. Especially if she had plans to be seen in said panties.

  Her heartbeat quickened every time she thought about returning to the B&B and making love to Trevor in the white iron bed.

  Panties and bras purchased, she moved on to find a second pair of blue jeans, a couple of shirts and finally the dress she’d wear on her first real date with Trevor.

  “You’re going to model them for me, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “No, I am not.” She waved him away from the dressing rooms. “I want everything to be a surprise.”

  “You’re no fun,” he groused. “I’ll be over here in the men’s athletic shoes. Call me if you need someone to zip you.”

  He strolled away from the ladies’ clothing into the men’s shoe department. Within range she could call out if she needed anything.

  With the help of one of the sales clerks, Lana gathered ten dresses and disappeared in the dressing room at the back of the store.

  She tried on several black dresses that would do. Didn’t every woman need a basic black dress she could dress up or down? But the red dress on the hanger in front of her called to her. She’d saved it for last. When she slipped it over her head and it glided down her body, she knew it was the one. It made her hair and eyes shine and fit her figure to perfection.

  Determined to keep it completely secret from Trevor, she dressed in her old clothes, gathered her belongings and snuck out of the dressing room while Trevor’s back was to her. She slipped through the clothing racks and found a register where she could pay for her purchases. The clerk wrapped the garments in a navy-blue plastic garment bag and tied it at the bottom.

  Satisfied she’d gotten by without showing Trevor the dress, she grabbed the hanger and turned to find Peter Bishop, standing right behind her. Her heart thudded, and she glanced toward the back of the store for Trevor.

  “Lana. Thank God, I found you.”

  Lana blinked. “Peter, what are you doing in Montana? How did you find me?”

  “I had to come warn you. As soon as you left San Diego, I found out the Free America group has set a date. Their target date is tomorrow. They’re going to execute their plan at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “Have you told the FBI?” Lana turned around, searching for Trevor. Oh, why had she snuck away? He needed to hear this. “Have you called the police? Notified the military?” Damn, Trevor was nowhere to be seen.

  “No. I didn’t think they’d believe me. You’ve already made an appointment with the FBI. They’ll listen to you.”

  “How did find me?” She stood on her toes and peered over Peter’s shoulder. “Where is he?”

  “If you’re looking for Anderson, he’s waiting in the truck for you. I found him first. He said he had to get outside the store for his cellphone to work. He’s in the truck.” Peter gripped her arm and marched her toward the exit. “Come on. We have to let the right people know.”

  Unease prickled her skin. “Wait a minute.” Lana dug her heels into the ground. “Trevor wouldn’t have left the building without me.”

  “I told him I’d look out for you while he made a phone call to his boss, Hank Patterson.” Peter gripped her elbow again and started for the exit. “We have no time to waste.”

  She tried to shake off his grip, but he held firm. “I’m not going with you. How the hell did you find me, anyway? I didn’t tell you where I was going.”

  “Yes, you did. When you called me at work, you told me you were heading to Montana.”

  Alarm bells rang in Lana’s head. “No, I didn’t.” She reached into her purse for the stun gun Hank had loaned her. Peter’s story wasn’t right. He couldn’t have known where she was going…unless he’d placed some kind of tracker on her or something she carried. “Let go of my arm, Peter.”

  His jaw tightened. “Lana, don’t be difficult. You’re the only other person who knows about what’s going on. You have to come with me. Or else.”

  She refused to move from where she stood, her belly turning flips. Where was Trevor? “Or else what?”

  Peter leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Or else, I hit the trigger to set off an explosion that will kill your boyfriend.”

  She stared hard at the man she’d thought was her friend. “What have you done to Trevor?”

  “Nothing yet. But I just rigged an explosive in the dressing room you were using. The one you snuck out of. When he goes looking for you, he’ll get more than he bargained for. Now, are you going to come with me?” He held up his free hand to show her small black device with a red button at the top. “Or do I press this? Are you going to cause a scene and force me to destroy your boyfriend?”

  “You can’t do that…” She frowned. “Can you?” She looked around at the other patrons of the store who could be injured in an explosion.

  Where was Trevor?

  “Time’s up.” He grabbed her arm again.

  With her hand on the stun gun, she flipped the on switch. She let Peter guide her toward the front exit, all the while lifting her other hand out of the purse. She raised the stun gun but didn’t get it to his body in time. He clamped a hand on her wrist and redirected the weapon, slamming it down on her thigh. The electrical charge hit her hard. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the ground, the stun gun skittering across the smooth tile, out of reach.

  The force of the shock left Lana stunned for several long seconds. Before she could gather her wits, Peter scooped her off the floor and hurried toward the door and out into the parking lot.

  He stopped at a car illegally parked against the curb, leaned down and jerked the passenger door open, flung her into the seat and slammed shut the door. He slid across the hood of the vehicle, dropped down to the driver’s side and jumped in.

  By then, Lana had hold of the door handle and had pushed it open and prepared to jump out.

  Peter lunged across the console, grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back inside. At the same time, he shifted into gear, hit the accelerator and shot the car forward.

  Lana stared out at the parking lot. No one was within shouting distance. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. For the love of God, this was Montana! Where were all the cowboys when a woman needed one?

  Peter was out of the parking lot and onto the street in seconds, headed out of Bozeman onto the highway.

  If Lana tried to throw herself out of the moving vehicle, she’d likely break every bone in her body as well as peel away layers of skin with road burn. Her best option was to wait for the man to slow to a stop. Then she could punch him in the throat, leap out of the vehicle and run for her life.

  Outside town, she thought she might get that chance.

  Peter pulled to the side of the road.

  Lana flung open the car door and rolled out onto the ground, gathered her feet beneath her and took off.

  She hadn’t gone ten yards when she was hit in the backs of her knees in a flying tackle. She landed on her chest, the air knocked from her lungs and a heavy weight lying across her legs and back.

  “Damned woman. I should have killed you back in San Diego.” Peter jerked her
arms behind her back and wrapped duct tape around her wrists.

  When he stood, he jerked her onto her feet.

  Lana bent over and plowed into the man’s belly, hitting him hard with her head.

  He stumbled backward, regained his balance and was ready when she tried the same trick again. This time, he backhanded her so hard, she saw stars and the world spun. She had to get away. Peter had been the man who’d attacked her back in San Diego. He was the one who’d tried to kill her three times already. If she didn’t get away, this time, he’d succeed.

  He hit her again, and the world went black.

  Chapter 13

  Trevor had been standing near the dressing room doors when a young mother came up to him, frantic and in tears.

  “Please help me. I can’t find my son,” she twisted her hands together, and her bottom lip trembled. “He’s only three. Oh, sweet Lord. I let go of him for only a couple seconds…and he disappeared. Please, please, help me find him.”

  Trevor shot a glance toward the changing rooms, and then back to the woman. “Let’s go to one of the clerks, she can send out a call over the intercom to help you look for your son. What is his name?”

  “His name is Dalton. Please, I have to find him. He’s my baby. He doesn’t know any better. He’ll be so scared. And God forbid he wanders out of the store and into the street. Sweet Jesus, help me.”

  With the woman sobbing noisily, Trevor marched her over to one of the registers. He couldn’t see the changing rooms, but he figured he wouldn’t be away for any more than a minute or two.

  The register he took the woman to was closed, and he ended up taking her to another even farther away from the dressing room.

  By that time, a clerk was found leading a little boy by the hand. The child had tears streaming down his cheeks. When he saw his mother, he flung himself into her arms and cried along with his distraught mother.

  Trevor turned to leave, but the mother caught his arm and engulfed him in a soggy hug, thanking him profusely for helping her find her son.

  He finally had to untangle the woman’s arms from around his neck and beat a hasty retreat before she tried again to thank him.

  Trevor hurried back to the dressing room in the ladies’ department. When he reached it, he couldn’t hear anyone moving around inside. He tried to capture the attention of one of the clerks, but there didn’t appear to be anyone working the area. He gave up and entered the dressing room, checking behind each door, calling out, “Lana!” Even before he neared the last door, he knew. She wasn’t there.

  Still not too concerned, he emerged and glanced around at the racks of women’s clothing. Across the room he spied a woman about Lana’s height and build with sandy-blond hair rifling through dresses.

  Trevor wove his way through the racks and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You nearly scared the life out of me.”

  The woman turned, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?” She wasn’t Lana.

  “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.” Trevor backed away and spent the next few minutes searching through the vast displays of women’s clothing, searching for one woman. He returned to the dressing rooms and called out her name. “Lana!”

  A clerk stepped out of one of the rooms carrying several dresses. “Are you looking for the blonde who was here a few minutes ago?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It’s really strange. She paid for her purchases, but then she dropped them on her way out.” The woman walked toward the register and lifted a navy-blue plastic wrapped bag. “If you know her, could you see that she gets her clothes. I’m sure she’ll realize she left this as soon as she gets home.”

  Trevor’s pulse thundered in his ears, and his fists clenched. “Did you actually see her leave?”

  She shook her head. “A man she seemed to know came up to her as she finished paying for her items. I had to go assist another customer and didn’t see her leave.” The clerk frowned. “Do you think she’s all right? Should I call for the police?”

  “Do me a favor and get on your intercom. Page Lana Connolly.”

  The woman nodded and lifted the microphone. She did as Trevor suggested and asked for Lana Connolly to report to the register near the dressing rooms.

  Trevor waited a minute, then another, but Lana didn’t appear. “Call the police, the national guard, the Navy SEALs and I don’t care who else. I think she’s been kidnapped.”

  Trevor started for the door at a run. His foot kicked something pink, sending it shooting out in front of him. He would have ignored it, but it caught his eye. When he bent to pick it up, his heart sank even deeper into his gut. It was Lana’s stun gun.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Hank. “I need as many of the Brotherhood as you can gather and turn on the trackers. Someone snatched Lana.”

  The pounding in her head woke Lana. When she blinked open her eyes, she still couldn’t see. Everything was black. As her vision and her mind cleared, she felt around her. She lay on what she could swear was a felt-lined floor. When she raised her hands, they bumped into something metal. Then an engine revved to life, and her tomb moved. That’s when she realized she was in the trunk of a vehicle.

  She banged her forehead against the trunk lid and yelled. “Help! I’m in here! Help! I’m being kidnapped! Please. Help me!”

  No one came to her rescue, and the vehicle increased its speed.

  For a long time, Lana worked at the inside of the trunk. She found a metal edge and sawed her wrists across it until the duct tape broke, and she was able to free her hands. Running her fingers around the interior, she searched for a way to release the trunk lid, but to no avail. If she could push through the back seat into the passenger area of the car, she might be able to overpower her abductor and escape.

  She rubbed her fingers raw, scratching at the felt, pushing at the back of the seat and scouring every corner, looking for a lever or anything that would lay the seat down and allow her to climb through, but only managed to break nails. She was trapped.

  The vehicle kept a fast, steady pace, indicating they were on a highway. Occasionally the driver slowed for curves, but he didn’t stop again.

  The constant rumble of the road eventually lulled Lana back to sleep. She didn’t wake again until the vehicle came to a full stop, and the engine was turned off.

  Lana couldn’t tell how long she’d been asleep or how long they’d been on the road. For all she knew, they could be anywhere, and Trevor wouldn’t know where to look.

  Then she remembered the tracking device she’d stuffed into the pocket of her jacket. She ran her hands along her sides before she remembered she’d shed her jacket when she’d been trying on clothes. She must have dropped it when Peter had attacked her.

  Her heart sank. Without the tracking device, Trevor wouldn’t know where to look for her. She couldn’t count on the cavalry coming to the rescue. This was a situation she’d have to deal with on her own.

  Footsteps sounded outside the vehicle. The crunching sound indicated gravel.

  Lana bunched her muscles, ready to spring out of the trunk as soon as Peter opened the lid.

  Men spoke in low tones, their words muffled by the walls of the trunk.

  Lana’s hopes dipped even more. Defending herself against one man was difficult enough. Two men could easily overpower her.

  She stiffened her spine. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. If she could surprise them and hit them hard, she might buy herself enough time to run for the woods.

  The metal click of the trunk lock releasing warned her to be ready. She closed her eyes and pretended she was still unconscious. Since light didn’t push through her eyelids, she assumed it was night. Good. If she got a running start, she could hide in the dark.

  “What do you want me to do with her?” Peter said as he opened the trunk.

  “Why did you bring her here in the first place?”

  “I figured it would be easier to hide the body i
n the backwoods here than on the highway getting here.”

  “Idiot,” the other man cursed. “With the FBI alerted to our efforts, we can’t stay here. You should have dealt with her before she made her appointment with the FBI.”

  “Believe me, I tried. I wasn’t counting on an ex-Navy SEAL showing up.”

  “You should have killed him, too.”

  “Again, I tried,” Peter said.

  Lana’s fists bunched. The bastard deserved to die, and she hoped she could help in that regard.

  “Well, your incompetence is costing us big. Now, we’re having to move up our deadline, take on a lesser target and expose our purpose before we can mobilize the other components of our organization across the country.”

  “Again, what do you want me to do with her now?”

  “We don’t have time to deal with a body, and if we’re here for long, it’ll begin to smell. Put her with the other detainees. When we leave, we’ll torch the place with them inside.”

  Lana fought to keep from jumping out of the trunk and punching the other speaker in the throat. How could anyone talk so callously about burning people alive?

  “Let’s get her out. We have a lot to do to prepare for tomorrow.”

  Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her up over the edge of the trunk. More hands gripped her ankles.

  As soon as she was completely out of the trunk, Lana twisted violently.

  The men holding her lost their grips and dropped her to the ground.

  She immediately rolled away from them, lurched to her feet and ran.

  Lana made it to the edge of a clearing when she was hit from behind. She went down cursing and kicking at the hands grabbing for her ankles. No sooner had she freed herself from their grip and scrambled to her feet, then another set of hands gripped her arm and twisted it up behind her back, pushing it high between her shoulder blades.

  Pain ripped through her shoulder, forcing her up on her toes to relieve the pressure.

  “Secure her wrists. We can’t have her running off to warn more authorities. She’s done enough damage.”

  Peter came at her with a roll of duct tape and wrapped it around her ankles while the other man held her. Then he bound her wrists.