No Mercy

by Cheyenne McCray

Dylan grabbed Belle and took her down to the floor. He leaned over and shut the safe beneath the desk before forcing her into the kneehole.

  “Stay here,” he ordered.

  “Please be careful.” With a terrified expression, she grabbed his hand. “I could never handle losing you again, Dylan. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Belle.” He loved her with everything he had. He’d never stopped loving her. “Don’t move. I won’t lose you again.”

  He looked at her one last time before leaving her behind.

  Dylan heard Stillwater calling for backup.

  “Agent down!” Clarice shouted from the living room.

  More gunfire from the front and then from the back of the house, too.

  Adrenaline pumped through Dylan as he peered around the office doorframe. Jim Heber was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall inside the front door, a grimace of pain on his face. He’d made it inside from his post outside the front door, but not before being injured. The right shoulder of his shirt was soaked bright red with blood and he was holding his right arm to his side. He set his jaw as he clutched his service weapon in his left hand.

  Clarice Lutz crouched on the opposite side of the door, her weapon in a two-fisted grip. She met Dylan’s gaze, her voice calm although her tone was elevated. “At least three men are in front. I don’t know how many in back.”

  More shots peppered the house.

  Then silence.

  The sudden silence was almost unnerving.

  Like the calm before a storm.

  Belle had never felt so afraid in her life. She could barely breathe and heard her blood race in her ears as everything went silent.

  The desk she was hiding beneath was at the opposite end of the room from where Agent Stillwater and Dylan were crouched beside the door. They were focused on what was happening in the rest of the house.

  A whisper of a sound met Belle’s ears in the otherwise abnormal silence. Her eyes widened and a silent scream rose up in her throat as she saw a bookcase swing open just feet from her.

  G.I. Joe stood to the left of the desk, near Belle’s position. He went stiff as he watched the bookcase.

  Her heart thundered as Salvatore came through the entrance, his arm around Christie’s neck, a gun to her head.

  A man stepped out from behind Salvatore—the same man she’d seen watching her just days ago. He caught sight of Belle beneath the desk and pointed a pistol at her.

  Belle froze at the sight of the gun pointed at her. Her heart thundered as she stared at the weapon.

  One more man came through the doorway, one she didn’t recognize. He was compact and short, and he had a mean look in his eyes. He, too, held a pistol.

  Christie whimpered as Salvatore pushed her forward, the barrel digging into the side of her head.

  Joe snarled.

  From her side vision, Belle saw Dylan whirl at the helpless sound Christie had made and Joe’s snarl. Dylan immediately had his gun leveled on Salvatore. His gaze darted from Salvatore to the man behind, who had his gun pointed at Belle’s hiding place, and then to the third man.

  Stillwater turned when Dylan had, and Trace had entered the room at the same time.

  Joe snarled again, his body in attack mode.

  The look on Dylan’s face was fierce, a killing rage in his gaze. “Let Christie go and get that gun off Belle.”

  Salvatore stared at Dylan. “You are going to give me every single thing that was in that safe.”

  “No.” Dylan’s voice was cold. “You will turn over both women or you and your two men won’t make it out of here.”

  Belle’s mind spun as her heart raced. How were any of them going to get out of this alive?

  Salvatore’s smile was grim and her skin went cold as he spoke. “Give me my property and call off reinforcements or Jorge kills Belle now. I only need one hostage.”

  Dylan’s heart had gone into overdrive the moment he’d seen Christie and had realized Belle was in another man’s sights. A third gunman backed up Salvatore and Jorge. Dylan recognized the man as a thug nicknamed Rat.

  Dylan’s mind flashed through the options. There were none.

  Jorge would murder Belle and Salvatore could kill Christie as well, if Dylan and the other agents didn’t cooperate.

  There had to be other options. Dylan had to come up with something.

  Christie’s face was even paler than before, yet Dylan saw not only fear but bravery in her gaze, too, as Salvatore gripped her around her neck.

  He looked at Dylan. “You’d better call off any reinforcements on the way. Remember, if anything happens to me, Belle dies.”

  Dylan had never felt so damned helpless in his life.

  Trace had managed to get between Dylan and Stillwater so that all three of them faced Salvatore and his men.

  “You won’t succeed, Reyes.” Stillwater’s hard voice came from beside Dylan.

  “Shut up, bitch.” Salvatore narrowed his gaze. “I told you, Dylan, call anyone off who’s here or on their way.”

  Joe was crouched on his haunches, as if waiting for his opportunity to lunge at Salvatore, who didn’t seem to notice the dog.

  Dylan slowly withdrew his cell phone and hit the speed dial number for Sofia.

  Trace said in his heavy drawl, “No one here is messing around. You injure these women and you and your men will pay the price.” There was steel behind his tone.

  Salvatore ignored him.

  Dylan had put his phone to his ear. Sofia answered and he said, “We have a situation at Salvatore Reyes’s home. Reyes and one of his men are holding two hostages. Christie Reyes and Belle Hartford. We need all agents to stand down immediately.”

  “Shit. I’ll call the FBI.” Sofia’s voice was ice cold. “The hostage rescue team will be on its way.”

  “Done, Salvatore.” Dylan lowered the phone as Sofia disconnected. “I’ve called them off.”

  “Take that garbage bag out of the wastebasket and put all of my belongings into it.” Salvatore nodded toward the desktop where everything had been laid out. “But first all of you drop your weapons.”

  “You know we can’t do that.” Dylan never wavered his aim. “This isn’t TV.” A law enforcement officer never intentionally lost control of his or her weapon.

  “No, it’s not TV.” Salvatore scowled as he stared at Dylan. “You have no options, Dylan. None at all. You do what I say.”

  “You shoot either one of them and you’re dead.” Dylan’s voice was low and cold. He realized the open door behind Reyes and the other two men was probably an escape route that could go out anywhere. If Reyes made it back behind that door with the women, things could be bad. Real bad.

  “Do as I said.” Salvatore narrowed his eyes. “My things. Now.”

  Dylan kept his weapon trained on Salvatore, never taking his gaze off the man as he pulled the bag out of the wastebasket and set it on the desktop. One handed, he started putting the evidence-bagged items into the larger garbage bag, his movements slow and deliberate.

  “Hurry,” Salvatore said.

  When the garbage bag was bulging, full of the findings from the safe, Salvatore relaxed his grip on Christie. He released her neck but still kept the gun pointed at her head. He held out his free hand. “Toss it here.”

  Joe was clearly waiting for his opportunity to lunge at Salvatore. But the man had his gun pointed at Christie, his finger hovering over the trigger. If Joe went after the bastard, the dog could cause the gun to go off and shoot Christie.

  A distraction. Dylan needed something to take their attention from Christie and Belle. He hoped what he planned to do was the right thing and that they were stupid enough to fall for it.

  Dylan took the bag off the desk. “It’s all here.”

  Salvatore’s eyes were greedy and triumphant.

  “Here you go.” With a powerful upward swing, Dylan flung the garbage bag filled with Salvatore’s items, aiming it between Jorge and Salvatore.

  Both men
reached for the bag to catch it, taking their eyes off of their victims.

  With another snarl, Joe lunged at Salvatore.

  The dog sank his teeth into Salvatore’s arm, forcing his aim down at the floor.

  Salvatore screamed as the dog’s teeth penetrated his skin.

  The gun went off.

  Stillwater grunted with pain as the bullet slammed into the upper arm of her gun hand. Her gun flew from her grip.

  Joe drove Salvatore down.

  Christie fell with Salvatore to the floor.

  The German shepherd shook his head, digging his jaw into Salvatore’s arm.

  Trace dove for Christie, grabbing her and rolling her away from Salvatore.

  Trace pushed her behind him and put Rat in his gun sights. He took one shot and dropped the bastard.

  Joe shook Salvatore’s arm even harder and the gun flew from his hand.

  The weapon spun across the floor toward Belle.

  Salvatore tried to fight off Joe, but the dog’s grip was too tight.

  At the same time Salvatore was going down, Jorge grabbed the bag in one hand.

  Dylan shot Jorge, aiming for center mass.

  The man moved a fraction before the bullet hit him, striking him in the right side.

  Jorge cried out and dropped the bag, but still had hold of his weapon.

  Belle scrambled out from beneath the desk and reached for Salvatore’s gun.

  Her fingers closed around the grip.

  Jorge turned his weapon on Dylan.

  Dylan pulled the trigger again but Jorge had dropped to his knees, gun still aimed at Dylan.

  Belle pointed Salvatore’s gun at Jorge. She squeezed the trigger.

  Dylan took a third shot just as Belle took hers.

  Both bullets hit Jorge, blood instantly soaking his clothes at his neck and his chest.

  Jorge screamed but didn’t let go of his gun.

  Belle and Dylan both shot Jorge again.

  He collapsed, face down, his gun falling from his hand.

  Dylan rushed forward and kicked the gun across the room, far from Jorge. He kicked the gun away from Rat, who lay still.

  Jorge didn’t move. Dylan checked his pulse and found none. He rolled the man over and Jorge’s eyes were wide and sightless. Dylan checked Rat for a pulse. None.

  Belle had Salvatore’s gun still trained on Jorge. Her hands were shaking but her aim was good.

  “Put down the gun, Belle,” Dylan said.

  Visibly trembling, she laid the gun on the floor.

  Dylan wanted to go to her but had to deal with Salvatore, who was still screaming.

  Brooks was holding back Trace, who looked like he wanted to kill Salvatore.

  Dylan approached Salvatore. Joe released the bastard when Dylan grabbed him by his collar.

  With everything he had, Dylan slammed his fist into Salvatore’s face. Blood poured from Salvatore’s nose, over his mouth and chin. Tears flushed from his eyes from the pain.

  Dylan started to hit Salvatore again, but Stillwater grabbed his arm with her good hand.

  “Let the courts put him behind bars.” Stillwater gripped Dylan’s arm tighter. “I want to see him rot in prison.”

  Dylan lowered his arm and shoved Salvatore away from him. Salvatore stumbled back and fell on his backside. Still shaking with rage, Dylan leaned down and grabbed Salvatore by his collar again and dragged him to his feet.

  The desire to hit Salvatore again was so strong that Dylan almost did. Instead, he turned away, leaving Salvatore with Stillwater and another agent who had walked in. Apparently backup had arrived and had taken care of whoever had attacked the house while Salvatore and his men came in from the hidden bookcase entrance.

  Behind him he heard Christie. Her voice trembled, but she said clearly, “I will testify against Salvatore about all I know of what he’s said and done. He killed a man right in front of me.”

  Dylan walked to Belle who was standing now and staring down at the body of the man she’d help shoot.

  She looked at Dylan, shock on her face. “Did I kill him?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Dylan took her in his arms and drew her stiff body close. “We both shot him. He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  Belle clung to him, a sob escaping her. “He deserved it, but to kill a man…”

  “Shhh, precious.” Dylan rocked her. “You helped save all of our lives. Without your help, things could have gone bad, very bad.”

  Her body relaxed and she tilted her tear-stained face to look at him. “I love you, Dylan. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.” He kissed her gently on her lips before drawing back and looking into her eyes. “I’m never going to let you forget it. I will never let you leave me behind again.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Belle’s stomach churned as she brushed her hair and thought about what she was about to do. She thought she was going to be sick.

  No, she couldn’t let him have that power over her.

  She didn’t want to do it. But she had to. She knew it was the only way she’d ever find true peace. She wanted every part of her free of the past so she could move on and face the future without emotional baggage.

  With a sigh, she set down her hairbrush by the sink. She held her breath as she used the hairspray then slowly let her breath out as she put the can next to the brush.

  It had been three days since Salvatore had been arrested. Tomorrow the sick bastard would be appearing before a federal magistrate judge in Tucson. It would take some time for the case to go to court, but eventually he’d face a jury and she was certain it would not be a good end for him.

  In addition, there was the chance that he would be considered a flight risk. Not only due to his business and personal relations in Mexico, but also the fake passports that had been found. He had clearly already been planning something. The feds were working on tracing money Salvatore had in offshore accounts now, thanks to the ledgers. If he wasn’t granted bail, Salvatore could very well await trial in prison for as long as it took.

  The FBI had whisked Christie away into protective custody until she could testify against Salvatore in federal court. Belle hadn’t seen her since the day Salvatore was arrested. Apparently there had been death threats against her that the FBI was taking seriously. The threats could have come from the Jimenez Cartel or Salvatore himself, but whatever the case, Christie’s life could be in danger.

  Belle adjusted the turtleneck sweater she wore as she looked into the mirror. It hid the remnants of the bruises on her neck that had yellowed in the days since she’d nearly been strangled. The traces were almost gone, but she didn’t like to see the leftover marks.

  The fact that the rest of the CoS and their families were safe now was such an incredible relief. It was like she’d been anchored to a cement block in the middle of a lake through everything that had happened. Now she was above the surface of the water and free, breathing in the sweet, fresh air.

  When she thought about Nate and Tom, however, the sadness was deep and profound, a heaviness in her soul that wouldn’t ever fully go away. She was grateful Marta was awake now, and according to the doctors, should make a full recovery.

  Belle put on her coat that had been lying on Dylan’s bed. In moments she would step out into the cold with him and make the journey to Tucson. It was a journey she knew she had to take to fully heal.

  G.I. Joe was back with Leon and his family. The dog seemed happy to be with Leon’s kids, appearing to have adopted them as his own instead of the other way around.

  The memorial for Tom would be tomorrow. The remaining members of the CoS would be able to scatter Nate’s ashes over the ridge, too, with the exception of Marta who was still in the hospital recovering, and Christie who was in protective custody. Belle, Dylan, and Leon had sworn to stay in touch. Belle knew that Christie would, too, after the trial, as well as Marta once she was out of the hospital.

  Absently, Belle pulled her hair out of the collar of
her jacket and let it fall down the back of the coat. She took a deep breath and faced the bedroom door. Dylan was waiting for her in the kitchen.

  Salvatore was likely going to go to prison for a long time. Hopefully he’d be there forever. Once Christie testified to the murder she had witnessed, and all that she had heard him state about the murders he’d contracted for everyone in the CoS, that should be enough to put the nails in his coffin.

  The clues Nate had left had finally paid off. The key to the passwords was inside the front cover of one of the ledgers in Nate’s handwriting, just like he’d said.

  Just two numbers and two symbols, and then the first two letters of the incorrect word, had to be used and each folder on the memory card opened when the passwords were keyed in.

  The folders had been filled with documents, receipts, money trails, payoffs, and other crucial information.

  There was even old proof that her stepfather had been paid off for murdering Dylan’s dad.

  Her stepfather.

  She closed her eyes. It was now or never.

  ~~*~~

  Belle waited in the hard plastic seat to be called in. Dylan sat next to her, holding her hand, anchoring her.

  She looked at the face she loved so much and smiled. “Thank you for being here with me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.” He touched the side of her face with his fingertips. “I will always be here for you. Always.”

  “I know.” She put her hand over his. “And I will always be here for you.”

  Harvey Driscoll was still in the custody of federal agents, not only for assaulting a federal agent, but also for the charge of murder after being contracted by a Mexican cartel, across international borders. Proof had been found that Harvey had also transported drugs from Mexico into the United States. Later today he would face the federal magistrate judge.

  He would also be tried for the sexual abuse of his stepdaughter in the Arizona court system. There was no statute of limitations for statutory rape in Arizona. Not only would Belle be testifying, but the photographs and videos of the abuse had been found when a search warrant had been issued for Harvey’s home.

  Belle wasn’t straight on how the federal court system worked versus the state court system, but she was certain of one thing—Harvey would never hurt her or another minor again.