Connor (In the Company of Snipers Book 5)

by Irish Winters

“Alex!” Ember’s excited voice hit his eardrum with more enthusiasm than he needed or wanted. “Guess what?”

  “Just tell me,” he answered. He’d had enough drama.

  “Alejandra Ramirez and Javier Quinones are lovers,” she all but squealed. “But that’s not all.”

  “They have an illegitimate son,” he shot back at her. “I already know. Have you talked with Mark? Do you know where he is?”

  “Yes. Just got off the phone with him, Boss. It’s getting scary dangerous down there. He and his team have already gone dark. You won’t be able to reach them until—”

  “Sonofabitch,” Alex hissed. The toughest part of any op was being out of radio contact with his operatives. “Where is he? Do you have pinpoint coordinates?”

  “I do,” she answered promptly. “Sending them to you now.”

  His migraine ratcheted tighter inside his skull. Patience was never his strong suite. All this pent up stress would vanish if he could just let it out of his system and swear a blue streak at everything and everyone. The coordinates pinged in his inbox. Immediately, he forwarded them to Scot Sylvane. “What else?”

  “Boss.” Ember’s excitement had dropped to zero. “Are you okay?”

  He forced the cramp out of his neck with one deep shoulder roll and ignored her question. His health didn’t factor into an operation of this magnitude. “Why did you call?” he asked as patiently as he could. The last thing Ember deserved was his profanity in her ear.

  “Mother thinks she found Connor and Izza,” Ember answered quietly. “Actually, one of her friends at SATGEO-TECH spotted it first. There is a SOS signal in the west desert. Possibly two people. They found it this morning when they were—”

  “Are they alive?”

  “Movement was detected. We think. The images were a little grainy. Kinda hard to tell. It looked like they were on top of—”

  “Coordinates.”

  “On their way.”

  “Alex,” Ember cut off his intended disconnect. His techies knew him too well.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m worried about you,” she said firmly, almost Motherly. “Should I send Murphy to assist?”

  “No. Schedule an early flight to Salt Lake City.”

  “For who, Boss?”

  Alex sighed all the way to his weary soul. “Mark’s wife. Get Libby Houston in the air. One way or the other, he’s going to need her.”

  Connor sat in the dirt outside the cave entrance in brain-numbing agony. Pain radiated across his abdomen. He’d overdone it running back to save Izza, but he didn’t care. Rest was hard medicine right now and the last thing he wanted. His heart screamed, Run to her. Help her. Save her!

  But there was nowhere to run. Helpless frustration galled him. They’d come so far together, but now she was gone, and it was ALL HIS FAULT!

  “Give me a freaking break!” he screamed at the dark night sky. “Was she right? Do you have any idea we’re even down here? That we need you?”

  Nothing answered. Not even the hint of a breeze whispered through the still desert air. He couldn’t even kick at the dirt, his gut hurt too much to move. Just the simple act of breathing pained those damned two holes in his body that were once more alive and screaming.

  Connor doubted himself to his core. Sitting alone with no hope left to hang onto, he second-guessed everything he’d ever done. Was he also to blame for Jamie’s death? No doubt. Tactical gear or not, he would have made an entirely different decision if it had been Izza in the line of fire that day. Did he have some sick creeping inner need to be a hero all the time? Maybe. It came with the eagle, globe and anchor, and yet he’d failed the woman he would die for. He’d let Izza down in every sense of the word. First Jamie. Now her. Possibly their daughter—

  “No! Hell, no!” He struggled to his feet. A coyote howled in the darkness. The eerie sound only emphasized the hollow feeling within Connor. Heartache hurts so much worse than gunshot. Profanity and despair clouded his vision. Tears came next, and then he was really angry. Kicking at everything in sight despite the pain in his hut, he caught his second wind.

  “Bullshit,” he bellowed to the sky again. “If you won’t do something, I will!”

  He wasn’t going to stay here and wait for someone to come find him. Hell, no. Connor proved it to himself by running to find that stupid backpack he’d dropped, the one filled with bottles of water and rabbit jerky. He proved it again by taking the rest of the tough-as-nails rabbit jerky in the camp and stuffing it into the bag. The broken pieces of Izza’s fire starter went next.

  Pulling the ratty makeshift pack over his shoulder, he started walking due east. It might take a week. It might take a month. But make no doubt about it. Connor Maher was getting Izza and his daughter back. The SC better get the hell out of his way.

  Twenty-Four

  “Am I even close?”

  Searching in the dark desert for a single person was as bad as looking for that proverbial needle in a haystack. All Alex’s SUV’s headlights had found so far was plenty of sagebrush and the glitter of a startled animal’s eyes that disappeared in a wink.

  “Yes. You’re close,” Ember muttered through his Bluetooth earpiece. “Those are the coordinates SATGEO-TECH gave me. Do you see anyone?”

  “I don’t.” Alex slammed his SUV into park and reached for his gear bag in the back seat. Pulling out his pair of NVGs, night vision goggles, he pulled them over his face and lit the desert up with the warm glow of lime green. All that showed was sagebrush and rocks. He stepped out of the off-road vehicle and began searching on foot for his lost agents. The only thing visible was a damned desert tortoise the size of a flattened basketball. Alex stepped around it and kept going.

  “You’re right on top on them. Look around.”

  “I am.”

  It sure didn’t look like he was on top of anything, much less his lost agents. The problem with night vision is the limited peripheral that comes with looking through any binocular-type device. In order to see, Alex had to physically rotate his neck to look directly toward his target. He knelt to examine the sand. It looked like the place had been used for a fireplace. Felt warm too. Rising to his feet, he heard the body hurtling toward him before he saw it. They went down together in a flurry of fists and defensive arm holds.

  “You bastard,” a very familiar voice spat into his face. “Where’d you guys take her?”

  Alex pulled the goggles off. “Connor?”

  “Boss?” Connor pushed to his knees. “Alex? Is that you?”

  “It’s me,” Alex said as they both scrambled to their feet. “Where’s Izza?”

  “They took her. Come on. We’ve got to go. Where’s your helicopter?”

  “I’m in a Land Rover.” Alex grabbed Connor’s arm to lead him to the SUV. “But you’re hurt.”

  “No, I’m fine.” Connor’s feet were pointed in two different directions. “Come on. We’ve got to save them. Let’s go. Now. Move it.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re shot and your nose is broken. You look like hell. Who is them? Who’s got Izza?”

  “Are you coming or not?” Connor barked instead of answering.

  “Connor!” The sharp tone in Alex’s voice snapped his agent’s head back around. “Settle down. Who took Izza?”

  “The SC.”

  “When?”

  “Maybe an hour or two ago.”

  “What were they driving?”

  “A chopper like I said.” Connor pointed due east. “That’s where I was going. They flew that way.”

  “Alex?” Ember finally spoke up. “Tell me you found both of them.”

  “Just Connor,” Alex reported. “Hang on. Sounds like the cartel still has Izza.”

  It was obvious Connor was anything but fine. Alex wasn’t real sure his agent wasn’t partially delirious the way he rambled, but if he was right, Alex had just missed the cartel.

  “Over here.” Alex pointed toward where he’d parked. “I’m surprised you didn’t see me
drive up.”

  “I forgot something so I had to come back.” Instead of walking in the direction Alex indicated, Connor ran to a group of small rocks and proceeded to kick at them. Another tortoise crawled between two of the rocks. “Beat it, Homer. You’re off the menu. Go have a good life.”

  “You ate turtles?” Alex asked when Connor headed back toward him.

  “Jack rabbits. Where did you park?”

  When Alex pointed to the Land Rover again, Connor nearly beat him back to it, muttering, “Couldn’t kill ’im after we named ’im. Come on Boss. Let’s get out of here. We need to save them.”

  By now Alex was confused. Kill who? Save who?

  “Where are we going?” He strapped in and hit the ignition button.

  “Hell. I don’t know,” Connor said. “Don’t you?”

  Alex flipped the dome light on to get a better look at his junior agent. Connor was pinging, and not making much sense while he did it. The bright light revealed an anxious, frightened man. Connor must have spent most of the last two weeks looking like a raccoon from that broken nose. The yellowed skin around his eyes was evidence enough. The full beard he sported might have filled out his face, but it didn’t hide the broken nose or the gaunt look of a hungry man. The poor guy was shaking and breathing heavy. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

  Alex throttled down into calm and steady. He lowered his voice. “Tell me again. The cartel took Izza, right?”

  Connor’s head bobbed. “Yeah. I already told you that.”

  “You said they came for her in a chopper? Why didn’t they take you?”

  “Because I wasn’t here. I was trying to save us all, but they came back and dragged her away. I should’ve stayed. They need me.”

  “Did you get that, Ember?” Alex spoke to Ember, still not sure exactly who Connor was talking about with all of his mixed up pronouns.

  “I did,” she replied. “So I’m looking for a flight plan filed with FAA within the last couple of hours.”

  He gripped Connor’s shoulder while he waited on Ember. “You thirsty?”

  Not waiting for an answer, Alex reached behind the passenger seat and pulled a couple chilled bottles of water out of his personal-sized cooler. The younger man latched onto both and popped the caps off.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled before he downed the first bottle in two seconds flat. By the time Alex handed him several protein bars and an apple, both bottles were empty. Connor grabbed the bars, but stripping the wrapper off the first brought tears to his eyes instead.

  “I’m eating,” he cried, but he wasn’t. The food hadn’t even touched his mouth yet. “I’m eating, but... they might already be dead.” He burst into tears.

  Alex gunned the engine and shifted the SUV into four-wheel drive. “Talk to me, Connor. What kind of condition is Izza in? Was she hurt in the ambush at the RV?”

  “No, but the baby’s—”

  “What are you talking about? What baby?”

  “I shouldn’t have left them. I should have stayed!” Connor lifted both wrists to his cheeks, growling in torment.

  “Connor.” Alex steadied the young man’s shoulder as he weaved over and around the desert terrain. “Settle down and talk to me. What baby, son?”

  “A baby?” Ember whispered in his ear. “Izza’s pregnant? Wow.”

  Alex ignored Ember’s amazement. Suddenly, Connor’s rambling made better sense. He leaned heavily against the passenger door with a thud, exhaustion finally claiming him. “My baby. Izza’s pregnant with my baby girl, and I... and they.... God! What have I don’t?”

  “Wow,” Ember muttered quietly again.

  Alex focused on Connor. “You only left her because you went looking for help.”

  “I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have left them.”

  “You did what you had to do. Eat up. I’ve got more water. Ember is going to tell me at any moment now where that flight went,” Alex hinted to his very capable and eavesdropping techie. He had to admit. At times like this, having Ember or Mother in his ear was as good as having an annoying guardian angel on his shoulder.

  “Alex,” Ember whispered as if Connor could overhear. “I can’t find anything. No flight plan was filed.”

  He’d suspected as much. Why would drug runners do anything legal?

  “But Mother’s on the phone with her friend at SATGEO-TECH. They’re pulling down images from the last five hours.”

  “Call me when you have something,” Alex said. “In an hour,” he added. “Or sooner.”

  “Copy that. Boss, would you do something for me?”

  “Sure.” Alex kept an eye on the young man at his side. Connor had devoured three of the five bars. Number four was on its way to a quick demise.

  “Would you give Connor a big hug for me?” Alex heard her tears all the way across country. “Tell him I love him.” She hung up before Alex could argue or agree.

  Aw, shit. What was he to do? He withheld the news that Mark and his team were in serious danger as well as the fact no flight plan had been filed. Right now, there was nothing good to share. Alex gripped Connor’s shoulder.

  The younger weary man’s gaze shifted from the bar in his hand. “Yeah, Boss?”

  “Ember says hi.”

  As emotionally exhausted as he was, Connor couldn’t sit still to save his life. Alex turned up the SUV’s air-conditioning and handed him another bottle of water.

  “How’d you break your nose?” Alex asked once they got on asphalt and headed east.

  “They dropped me off the truck. Course, then they dropped Izza on top of me. She’s something else, Boss. She’s a damn good survivalist. Honest, I didn’t know about the baby until we got here. Not sure she’d ever have told me now that I think about it. Maybe it’s a good thing we got stuck out here. Maybe—”

  “No.” Alex put a stop to Connor’s rambling. “Being shot and left to die in the desert is never a good thing. How far along is she? Seven? Eight months?”

  “Seven.”

  “Fraternization, huh?” Alex kept his eyes on the freeway.

  “It happens. But what happened after the RV blew? Is everyone okay?”

  Alex was slow to answer. “Roy took a couple hits. You guys were abducted.”

  “Roy got shot? Damn it. I thought I saw him go down. How bad is he?”

  “Took one in his upper leg and another in his chest. He’s still in the hospital, but he’s doing better. You’ll have to visit him when you get there.”

  “But Morgan’s okay? And Mark’s team? How about Mark?”

  Alex didn’t answer fast enough.

  “Boss? Is Mark okay? What the hell happened?” Anxiety rippled up Connor’s spine.

  “Mark’s fine, but we lost Morgan,” Alex finally answered. “His funeral was last week.”

  Connor stared out the window, a sudden catch in his voice. “That’s why you’re here.”

  “No, I’m here because you guys did a good job. The cartel is dismantled. Their business is in shambles and—”

  “Bullshit,” Connor growled. “They got Izza.” Finally safe and on his way to civilization again, he broke down.

  “Tell me about the baby,” Alex urged gently.

  Connor turned with more accusation in his voice than he intended. “Why was she even here? Didn’t you know she was pregnant? God! What were you thinking sending her to Utah?”

  “I’m thinking she must have left that out of her personnel file,” Alex said calmly.

  Connor closed his eyes. “You’re right. Sorry. That sounds just like Izza. It’s a girl. She’s carrying my daughter.”

  Alex gave his arm a hard squeeze. “We’re going to find her. Mother and Ember are the best. They haven’t slept since you two went missing. They’re the ones who spotted your SOS and your telltale signature. C.M.I.R. was a good idea.”

  “Yeah. It was her idea. It was....” Connor couldn’t finish. He stared out the window, his heart set on a mean-tempered Hispanic woman who thought she was alon
e in the world. And she was fighting it again. Without him.

  “I’m taking you to the emergency room until we hear from Ember,” Alex stated.

  “No. Not until Izza is safe. I’m not going—”

  “Yes, you are. You’ll be better able to fight once you’re stitched and—”

  “No!” Connor bellowed, his fists clenched and ready to fight again. “I said no. I can’t be doped up. I need to be ready to run the minute Ember calls and tells me where to go.”

  “Us,” Alex corrected. “You are not in this alone, Connor.”

  Whatever. Alex might be in charge and he might be right, but there was no damned way Connor would submit to medical treatment before he had Izza back.

  “My hotel room then,” Alex muttered. “At least you can shower while we wait. I’ll order room service and get you some clean clothes.”

  Connor nodded. That would work. He couldn’t control his shaking. The food and water he’d consumed only enhanced what might be happening to Izza at this very moment instead of nourishing him. He turned on his boss, shaking like a man possessed. “Can’t you drive this piece of shit any faster?”

  Alex obliged. The miles flew by.

  Twenty-Five

  That same night fell dark across the Ramirez hacienda, with only a pale moon to expose intruders. Just the way Mark liked it. Discussing the plan to rescue the Ramirez children was simple. Implementation was a different animal all together. Murphy’s Law never failed to change perfectly good theories into nightmares.

  They geared up outside their rental van in the dark. Each agent wore desert cammie pants with black shirts and face paint. Except for the whites of their eyes, they were a close match for sand, rock, and shadow.

  Mark carried his sniper rifle as well as a SIG SAUER .9mm pistol holstered on his right hip. The silencers on their weapons would only provide a brief window of opportunity. Misnamed and misunderstood by most, silencers still made enough noise, especially in the dead of night.

  He stuck four magazines, eight rounds each, into his left pants pocket for the pistol. All agents wore two bandoliers of extra ammo across their chests with extra magazines, thirty rounds per mag for their rifles. There was no way to tell how this operation would go down, and Mark needed them prepared for a fierce gun battle.