Colton 911--Guardian in the Storm

by Carla Cassidy

  It was time to make a move. He turned back around to Simone. “The only way to get out of this is for me to go out there and try to take him out.”

  “No, Brad.” She jumped up from the sofa. “It’s too dangerous.” She walked over to him, wrapped her fingers around his wrist and stared up at him. “Please, Brad, don’t do that. He has a rifle and you only have a revolver. He has the upper hand and it’s just too dangerous for you to go out there.”

  “There’s enough cover between the cabin and the trees where he is. I can use the cover to get close enough to him where my revolver will be able to reach him.” He gently pulled his wrist away from her grip. “It’s the only way for us to get out of this. I need to neutralize the threat.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “There’s got to be another way.”

  “There isn’t,” he replied firmly.

  “Then at least let me provide you backup.”

  “No way. You need to stay inside and stay away from the windows and doors,” he replied fervently. “Don’t forget that you’re the number one target.”

  “But I could help,” she protested.

  “I don’t want your help, Simone,” he said. “I want you to stay here, and if somehow this creep manages to get around me, if he comes for you, I want you to kill him.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. “Now, go sit and wait for me. Hopefully I’ll be back soon.”

  He waited until she was again seated on the sofa. He then drew a deep breath and opened the door. He raced to the back of the car and a gunshot boomed. The bullet whizzed by him and pierced the passenger’s side door.

  Using the car as cover, he crouched low and moved to the front of the driver’s side door. From here he surveyed the area just ahead of him. There were a couple of lone trees about halfway between him and the shooter. If he could just reach them, then his revolver would be in play.

  Tightening his grip on his gun, drawing several slow, deep breaths to focus him, he finally took off. He ran a zigzag pattern as bullets kicked up the ground all around him.

  He reached one of the trees and slammed his back against it, his heartbeat racing so fast he had to catch his breath. This was it. He’d either succeed or fail and the idea of failure was absolutely abhorrent.

  He peered around the tree trunk. From this vantage point he could see the person in the woods, but he was still too far away to identify him. He needed to get closer.

  He fired his gun and then raced to another tree. When he looked again, he realized the shooter had retreated deeper into the trees. Apparently he now realized Brad was a good shot and the bullets could reach him.

  Brad moved again, edging closer to the stand of trees where the perp had been. The rifle boomed once more and the bullet seared through Brad’s belly. He gasped in pain and clutched his stomach, where blood immediately began to seep through his shirt.

  Dammit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And dammit, he should have taken the time to put on his bulletproof vest. It had been stupid, a rookie mistake, for him to forget it, but it had been locked in the trunk of his car.

  The excruciating pain doubled him over. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to get on top of the pain. He couldn’t stop now. No matter how much pain he was in, he had to take out the perp for Simone’s sake.

  He raced to the next tree despite the weakness, the dizziness that threatened him. Blood dripped from his wound to the ground. He felt his heartbeat slowing and he knew he was in trouble, a lot of trouble. Still he raced forward, going from tree to tree as the two men exchanged more gunfire.

  He was cold yet sweat beaded on his forehead. His vision blurred to the point he had trouble seeing. The gunshot wound ached with an intensity that half stole his breath away. He took another step forward in an effort to shoot the man who threatened them, but he suddenly realized he was on the ground.

  Get up, a voice screamed in his head. You have to get back on your feet. He tried to push himself to get up, but he couldn’t. His body wasn’t responding to his desire.

  He managed to roll over on his back and stared up at the blue sky...blue like Simone’s eyes.

  Simone.

  His heart wept with the knowledge that she was all alone now. A darkness edged into his vision. He’d wanted to save Simone, but he couldn’t. He could only pray she could save herself. He tried to fight against the darkness, but it consumed him and he knew no more.

  * * *

  Despite Brad’s instructions for her to sit tight on the sofa, the minute he disappeared out the door she jumped up and went to the window.

  She watched breathlessly as Brad raced from the front of the car to a tree trunk, where he remained for several long moments. Her heart had never beat as fast as it did as she saw him moving from tree to tree.

  Then he went out of her sight and several more shots rang out. She waited for him to reappear again. Seconds ticked by... Minutes passed and she had no idea what was happening.

  Time continued to pass and there were no more gunshots. Where was Brad? What had happened? What was happening?

  She left the window and grabbed the gun on the coffee table. She wasn’t willing just to sit this one out. The fact that Brad hadn’t walked out of the woods yet scared the hell out of her and spurred her into action.

  With the gun clutched tightly in her hand, she left the cabin and raced to the side of the car. There was no responding gunfire.

  From the car she raced to the same tree that he had hidden behind. Again there was no responding gunfire. Had Brad managed to take the killer out? Hope buoyed up in her heart as she raced to another tree. If he’d been successful, then where was he?

  That was when she saw it...a splatter of blood on the ground. She stared at the bright red blood dotting the dirt and fallen leaves and her heart stopped.

  Had Brad been hurt? Had he been shot? Why was there blood? Why on earth was there so much blood? Oh God, she needed to find him. How badly had he been hurt? She followed the blood trail, her heart now beating so fast she felt as if it might explode right out of her chest.

  Where was he? And where was the shooter? The trail of blood took her deeper into the woods. Her gaze shot frantically from side to side. She held the gun in front of her, ready to fire if she needed to.

  Dear God, there was so much blood...too much blood, and the sight of it scared the hell out of her. Brad had to be okay. He just had to be. She couldn’t face the guilt she’d feel...the grief she would feel if he wasn’t all right.

  She broke into a small clearing and then she saw him. He was on his back and not moving and Leo Styler stood over him with his rifle to Brad’s head. Everything that happened next seemed to happen in a slow-motion dream.

  “Leo.” She called his name loud and clear.

  He looked up. His rifle began to move upward and she fired her gun. Her hand kicked up from the velocity of the bullet shooting outward. The blast nearly deafened her. She gasped in stunned shock as blood exploded from his chest. She’d done it! He stared at her in surprise as the rifle fell from his hands. Then he tumbled to the ground.

  She’d shot him! Not because she’d feared for her own life, but because she’d feared for Brad’s. She ran to Leo’s side and kicked the rifle away from him, but it was obvious he was badly wounded and unconscious.

  She raced to Brad, tears chasing down her cheeks, half choking her as she fell to her knees beside him. Blood covered his shirt and he was unconscious as well. “Brad,” she cried. “Brad, please wake up.”

  He didn’t respond. As she stared at the bleeding wound in his stomach, she knew he needed medical help immediately. But how was she going to get it for him? They were cut off from the outside world by the flooding. Her cell phone was dead and he needed help now.

  She did the only thing she knew to do. She screamed...and screamed. “Please, somebody help me,” she cried. “We need h
elp here.”

  There had to be somebody around, somebody who would have a working phone and could call for help. Nico from the grocery store had mentioned that there were other people in cabins and camping out. It seemed like she screamed forever when a voice finally sounded from the other side of the trees.

  “We heard the gunshots. Is everyone okay?” a male voice asked.

  “No, no...we’re not okay. We need medical help.” She got to her feet. “My cell phone is dead and I need somebody to call the Chicago Police Department and tell them FBI agent Brad Howard has been shot. Somehow, they need to get him to a hospital immediately. Tell them that Leo Styler is here and has been shot as well.”

  A tall, dark-haired man stepped into sight. He looked at her and then eyed the two men on the ground. “I’m Kyle Ingram, we’re staying in a cabin nearby. Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Just please make the call for me.”

  “I’m calling right now,” he replied.

  She fell back to the ground next to Brad. She grabbed his unresponsive, cold hand. Why was he so cold? “Please, hang on, Brad. Help is coming.” Even as she said that, she had no idea how help would get to them. She had no idea how long it would take.

  “You have to hang on, Brad.” Tears fell from her eyes and onto his chest. “Please, you have to live, Brad. I...I love you. I...I’m in love with you. You have to survive, do you hear me?”

  “I made the call,” Kyle said. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Are you a doctor? Do you have any medical training?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” he replied.

  “Then you can just pray for me...for us,” she said, and then tears choked her all over again. Blood continued to ooze from his wound. She’d never felt so helpless in her life.

  She glanced over to Leo. He appeared to still be breathing, but it sounded labored. They’d thought it might be Rob Garner in the woods, but it had been the nineteen-year-old creep who had killed her father. And he’d shot Brad.

  How had he known they were here? How had he gotten here? As far as she knew, he was a kid without a car, without any transportation or money. The questions flew through her head, a race of questions that, at the moment, had no answers.

  Minutes ticked by and her hope of some sort of rescue happening began to wane. Even if law enforcement had been notified, how were they going to get an ambulance into an area where the road was flooded?

  Ignoring Kyle, who hovered nearby, she grabbed hold of Brad’s hand once again. “Please, Brad. Open your eyes and look at me,” she begged. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Brad. Please wake up.”

  She continued to sit next to him and talk to him as she waited for something to happen, even though she had no idea what that something might be. She couldn’t imagine just sitting here beside him and watching him die, but she feared that was what was happening.

  Then she heard it, the whop-whop-whop of an approaching helicopter. Were they here for Brad? Was this finally the rescue she’d been praying for? She jumped to her feet and waved her arms over her head to get their attention.

  The helicopter hovered overhead, whipping the leaves on the trees into a loud cacophony of sound. Then a basket with a man inside it dropped out of the aircraft. Joy filled her heart as the basket slowly descended.

  She looked back at Brad and the burst of joy dissipated. Was it too late for him? Had he lost too much blood? Were his wounds bad enough that he might succumb to death before he could be taken to a hospital?

  The basket reached the ground and a blond-haired man who looked to be about thirty years old jumped out of the basket. “Here, take him first.” She yelled to be heard above the noise as she guided the man to Brad.

  “You’ll have to help me get him into the basket,” the man said.

  She nodded. With his instructions, together the two of them managed to get Brad into the bottom of the basket. The man rode with Brad as the basket ascended into the bowels of the helicopter.

  The man rode down a second time and they loaded Leo. “I’ll be back for you,” the man yelled, and then once again the basket went up.

  As Simone waited, she wrapped her arms around herself, saying prayer after prayer for Brad. Even though she knew they would never be together, even though she knew she was just a job to him, she needed to know he was alive and living his best life.

  Her father had already been stolen from her by Jared and Leo. She didn’t want to believe that Brad would be stolen from her...from this life as well.

  As she waited for the basket to return one final time for her, a thousand thoughts once again whirled around in her head. How had Leo found them here? How had he gotten here? Who was financing the teenage killer?

  Still, the number one question in her mind was if Brad was going to survive this ordeal. She grabbed the rifle and then Brad’s gun, not wanting to leave them behind for some unsuspecting kid or anyone else to stumble upon.

  Within minutes she was being loaded into the helicopter, where Brad and Leo were on pallets on the floor and a doctor was administering fluids. She sat buckled into a seat and watched, praying that Brad would finally open his eyes.

  “Where are we going?” she asked the pilot once they were underway.

  “Chicago. We have trauma teams standing by at Chicago University Hospital,” he replied.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes. At least she knew he would get top-notch care at that hospital. While she took comfort from that, it scared her to death that he hadn’t regained consciousness. There was only so much a doctor could do in a helicopter in midair.

  Before she knew it, they were landing on the pad connected to the hospital. Gurneys awaited them and both of the patients were loaded up and whisked away.

  She was directed to the waiting room, where she sank down among a group of patients waiting to be seen. She hoped somebody came out to tell her something about Brad’s condition.

  It wasn’t long before FBI agent Russ Dodd walked into the room. She knew him from the many family briefings he’d attended with Brad. She also knew Brad considered the redhaired agent his best friend.

  He immediately spied her and sank down in the chair next to her. “Simone, how are you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’m here, I’m okay, but I’m terrified for Brad.”

  “A doctor is supposed to come out and speak with me as soon as they know his condition,” Russ replied. “Can you tell me what happened out there?”

  For a brief moment, memories cascaded through her brain. They weren’t memories of gunshots and fear, but rather ones of laughter and fun games, of stolen kisses and sweet lovemaking.

  But she knew that wasn’t what Russ wanted to talk about. It seemed unreal that it had only been that morning that she and Brad had awakened without any electricity. This single day had lasted forever and it wasn’t over yet.

  She went through all the events that had happened from the time Brad had left the cabin to when she had shot Leo. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him standing over Brad. He was the last person I expected to be there,” she said.

  “There will be a full investigation into how Leo found you guys and who made it easy for him to get there,” Russ said. “And now do you want to hear a little good news?”

  “What?” she asked. The only good news she wanted to hear right now was that Brad was going to be all right.

  “As soon as I heard Leo was down and in custody, I had a brief interview with Jared. He confessed to everything, the kidnapping and the four murders. With the confession, we can now put them both away.”

  “That is great news,” she replied, and yet her heart squeezed tight. “But it’s not worth Brad’s life.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “You care about him.”

  “More than you know,” she replied, h
er heart aching with the need for Brad to pull through. “Is the doctor even allowed to talk to you about his condition? Aren’t there privacy regulations against that?”

  “Right now Brad is a victim and I’m a member of law enforcement following up on his case. The doctor will speak with me,” Russ assured her.

  They settled back to wait. One hour turned into two. Several times Russ got up to make or take a phone call. Simone didn’t contact anyone in her family. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. She felt as if she needed to process everything that had happened before she spoke to anyone. More than anything, she just wanted to know if Brad was dead or alive.

  Finally, a doctor stepped out and called Russ’s name. She jumped up with Russ and followed behind him as the doctor took them to a small office. The doctor was a small man with a name tag that read Dr. Anthony Montello.

  She sat in a chair next to Russ’s as if she had a right to belong there. However, the doctor looked at her, then looked at Russ with a raised eyebrow. “Is it all right for me to speak freely to you in front of her?”

  “Absolutely,” Russ said without hesitation, and she wanted to lean over and kiss him on the cheek in gratitude.

  “So, the bullet that your agent received struck around his appendix area and exited his back. Unfortunately, the appendix ruptured. Thank goodness he was brought in when he was. We performed an emergency appendectomy and cleaned up a few other areas and we’re hitting him with plenty of antibiotics. The surgery went well and he’s now out of danger and resting peacefully in a room.”

  Simone gasped in relief. Thank goodness the helicopter had come when it had. Brad was going to be okay and that was all that mattered. “Can I see him?” she asked.

  “He’s still asleep from the anesthesia, but he’s in room 1045. If he does wake up, I don’t want him stressed. His body has been through a lot.”

  “I promise I won’t stress him,” she replied.