Ring of Fire

by Taylor Lee

  Sam’s agony at the sight of them was palpable. The vicious men had hung him from a ceiling hook, his hands above his head, his arms and shoulders straining with the effort. Even stripped to his underwear, his dignity was apparent. Erin’s heart ached knowing that the one thing that could break the proud man was seeing her and Annika hurt.

  As Erin was sure Annika intended, her derisive heckling worked. Jeb released Erin’s jaw and whirled on Annika, his eye blazing with anger. He backhanded her across the face then drew his fist back and hit her again. Erin sobbed in response. Sam shouted obscenities from behind his gag.

  “You’ve got a smart mouth, don’t you, blondie? Get that shacking up with Sam-bo? You proud that you spread your legs for a black man? Are you?!” He pointed at Sam’s tortured body. Striped with wicked slashes on his naked back, Sam’s strong muscular physique gleamed in the stark glare of the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. “He doesn’t look like such a big man now, does he?”

  Annika tossed her head and glared at Jeb, her eyes flashing with contempt. Jeb’s blow had split her lip. The large red mark where his fist landed was sure to bruise, but Annika was unrepentant.

  Ignoring Sam’s muffled pleas not to taunt the brutal man, Annika’s voice was thick with scorn. “You freak. You don’t get it, do you? Have you looked in the mirror lately, asshole? You think any woman with eyes in her head wants to screw a fat, flabby, out of shape small-dicked creep like you? Answer me? How much do you have to pay your whores to fuck you? And how much do you pay them not to tell anyone that you can’t get it up?”

  Jeb backed away from her. His face flushed a dark reddish purple, his eyes blazed with hate. He slowly doubled his hands into fists. Erin held her breath, knowing what was coming. Breathing was impossible. To her surprise, Jeb stood still studying Annika. When he spoke his wrath was more apparent in his soft ominous tones than if he’d screamed.

  “You and your darkie lover will regret for the rest of your lives that you insulted me. When I am finished with you, and when my men are done, there won’t be a place on your body that won’t know what it’s like to be fucked, by real men, white men. All ten of us.”

  As if he knew that the worst way to punish Annika was to go after Erin, Jeb turned back to her. Erin couldn’t have swallowed even if she’d had spit in her mouth. She lifted her chin and held his gaze.

  Jeb gave a dismissive snort. “Of course, Nate would want a feisty bitch. You and he play games, sweetheart? I’ll just bet you do. You’ll have to teach me some of them.” He chortled, drawing a casual finger around her mouth. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

  Reaching for her hair, he twisted a long lock in his hand and gave it a painful tug. He grimaced. “I’m not much for dark-haired sluts, but honey that body of yours makes up for a world of sins.”

  Glancing pointedly at the top of her thighs, he grinned. “Knowing Nate, he got rid of that dark scruff. At least that’s one thing I won’t have to do to get you ready for me.”

  Jeb looked at his watch. As if he had been waiting for a specific time, he took out his phone. Making a visible effort to calm himself, he punched in a number. His voice was hearty, casual. Only the people in the room could see the angry splotches on his face, the spittle collecting in the corners of his mouth, the deep creases on his brow.

  “Just checking in, Nate. Trust you got my previous message. I figure it won’t take you long to get that fucking asshole Cougar to tell you where we are.

  “My demands are simple. I can see the handwriting on the wall. Chicadia Falls is starting to look really small to me, Nate. I need a bigger stage. I’ll also need a plane. A Cessna 206 to be precise. I won’t need a pilot. I’ll fly it myself.

  “In the event you’re thinking you don’t want to negotiate, I’ve got the girls. Both of them. They’re a little worse for wear. But that’s to be expected. Remember, Nate. It’s like you taught me when we were arguing over a bike we stole. In every negotiation there needs to be a win-win. Or no deal.

  “I’ll keep you posted, bro. Let you know if the girls need anything. Although with the ten of us here I’m sure we can meet their most outrageous requests.”

  His soft laugh was genuine. “I’m assuming they’re both on birth control, correct?”

  Chapter 27

  Nate spoke into his com.

  “Hope I don’t have to tell you how much it means to me that you’re here, Eric.”

  “Like you’d have to say more than ‘They’ve got Sam’ and we wouldn’t be on our way.”

  “Mark…”

  “Don’t mention it, Nate. For four years I told you that I’d follow you to hell and back. This isn’t hell except for one very bad dude inside that shack.”

  Nate huffed a small laugh. He was glad neither man could see him. They wouldn’t miss the moisture in his eyes. Guess he could blame it on the camo pain. Damn stuff could burn, make your eyes water. He could just hear Sam counseling him. ‘Cut yourself some slack, Big Dog.’ Sam’d be right. Nate didn’t know how he’d made it through the last twelve hours. Seemed impossible that’s how long it had since he’d gotten Sarah’s call. At the time that had seemed like the worst thing that could happen. On top of Melanie’s and Tucker’s death, Sarah’s near death could have brought him to his knees. But never one for understatement, Jeb had gone several universes too far. Nate should thank him. Jeb had done the worst thing he could. He’d pushed Nate over the top.

  Jeb’d never admitted that Nate was stronger, more skilled. He’d never acknowledged Nate’s Delta Force rep, or even his hometown hero cop status. But Jeb did know Nate, understood him at a gut level. And he’d gone at Nate in a way no haji in Iraq or in Afghanistan had been able to. Jeb had taken his best friend, Sam’s woman, Annika, who was also one of his cops, and more important than his life, the bastard had taken Erin. Jeb’s actions did what they should have. From the time Jeb called to confirm that he’d abducted Sam, and had Annika and Erin, Nate had gone into Rambo mode. He’d never been steadier, never more focused, and never more deadly.

  Nate gave a silent thanks to the wilderness around him. It was a beautiful night. Warm for early June, the kind of night he’d loved all of his life and depended on. A half-moon lit the sky when the overhang of clouds lifted. It created enough shadows to mask the team’s expert moves. No one would know that there were more men and guns in the bushes than on opening day of deer season. Only in this case the shooters weren’t wearing hunter’s orange garb. Like Jeb’s men earlier in the day, the barely moving shadows hovering among the trees were dressed in camouflage, but his guys wore it as patriotic heroes, not home grown terrorists.

  Nate called for a final a sit-rep from the team. At each ‘roger that’, he grinned. He gave an ironic salute to the men in the woods and sent a prayer to the woman he loved more than life. Murmuring into his com, his voice was laced with strained humor.

  “Okay bad boys, show time. We’re going live.”

  Nate punched on his cell phone listening to each ring. At Jeb’s ‘hello’, Nate put him on speaker. Jeb’s voice boomed through the trees, a function of the mics they’d strung in the foliage around the shack.

  Wishing he could see Jeb’s face when he realized he was on speaker—big speakers, Nate contented himself knowing that his enemy was surprised. Better yet, this was a minor surprise compared to what Nate had in store for him.

  “Hi Jeb. Got your message. No need to use our cell phones, bro. I’m closer than you think. In fact if you just poke your head out of the door and look to the poplar between the big pines, you’ll see some steel glinting in the moonlight. Never know when an AK4 will come in handy, right, buddy?”

  He paused, letting the situation sink in. Seeing movement through the window, he was sure that Jeb had sent one of his men to see what was happening. The fucking coward would never look for himself.

  “Not to state the obvious, but we’ve got you surrounded, buddy. Cheer up. I’m here to negotiate. Just as you requested.”
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br />   Nate took several deep breaths, practicing the calming techniques that had saved his life countless times. He sent silent thanks to the CQC instructors who’d taught him that meditation was one of a Special Forces hotshot’s most potent weapons. He was proving it tonight. The fact that his pulse was beating at a slow, controlled beat while Erin was being held captive by one of the most evil and, more frightening, craziest bastards he knew proved the case.

  His voice rang out, the clear night echoing his confident words.

  “Before we begin to negotiate, Jeb, it’d probably be good for us to assess the situation. Make sure we’re both on the same page. Let’s start with numbers. You seem to be laboring under a false impression, Jeb. You say you’ve got ten men lined up to fuck Erin and Annika? Tell you what? Unless along with your beer belly you’ve grown six or seven more dicks you’re gonna be a few men short to make up a decent sized circle jerk.”

  The soft chuckles from their interior mics confirmed his team appreciated his gallows humor. He knew Sam would and prayed to God that Annika and Erin did as well.

  “Like I said, Jeb. Let’s make sure we’re square on the numbers. Hard to negotiate unless both sides have the same facts. You might want to do a quick bed-check, buddy. Get a report from the perimeter. Or given that you don’t have the communications capability that my team does, as an alternative, how about I give you a run down?”

  Once again, he paused to let his words sink in. As much for Erin and Annika and Sam as for Jeb. Confident that all three captives were bound and likely gagged, his messages of doom for Jeb were intended to bring joy and hope to his friends and his woman.

  He kept his voice steady, assuming a friendly confident tone.

  “Let’s see, Jeb. You had seven men posted outside. No need to confirm. We can count. Five of those men were taken out by Sam’s SWAT team. The other two, Richie Collins and Mitch Deaver, liked my offer better than yours. I offered them ten years in jail or to be dead when you found out they’d run. FYI? For the future—in the event you have one. If you see that your men have backed into the parking lot, it might indicate they’re lookin’ for a quick way out.”

  The silence from the trees had to be as compelling to Jeb as Nate ticking through his deadly inventory.

  “That takes care of seven of your men. And leaves the three of you inside. Tank, Chuck, and… you. Yep, guess that’s what’s left of your band of brothers, Jeb.”

  Nate prayed that Sam was conscious, that he could hear him. Nate needed to send him a message—one that was from the rest of the team as much from him. He choked back the sudden emotion threatening to affect his confident tone. He reminded himself. This was for Sam.

  “I glossed over the fact that it was Sam’s SWAT team that killed your men. I shouldn’t have. I’ll admit it. I think our Minnesota boys are hot shit. But the LAPD has without a doubt the finest SWAT team in the country. Eric and his boys were here six hours after they learned that you’d kidnapped their commander. No question, Jeb. That was a critical error on your part. Sam means as much to these men as he does to me.”

  Eric’s whispered ‘Thanks, Big Dog,’ made it through their interior network. Nate nodded silently, then went for the jugular.

  “The thing about this particular SWAT team, Jeb, is that they don’t miss. I suggest you turn out the lights. You’ll notice a couple of red laser beams pointed at you. Yep, there’s one on Chuck’s forehead and one on his throat.”

  Nate was gratified by the shuffling they could hear from inside the cabin.

  He chortled. “And, hell, Tank looks like a goddamn Christmas tree.”

  He paused for effect.

  “If you look down, bro, you’ll see where I told them to aim on you.”

  Silence greeted his remark.

  “Hmm. Thought that might get a response, if not from you, maybe from one of those sorry assholes who hung with you to the bitter end. Guess I need to speak more directly to them. Eric, will you please take out Chuck?”

  The only sound they heard was the crack of the window pane and ‘poof’ from Eric’s gun, followed by a loud scream from inside the cabin. Nate waited for a moment.

  “Thanks, Eric.”

  Nate let the ominous silence settle into the cracks then continued.

  “Back to our negotiations.

  “I agree with your assessment, Jeb. You need to get the hell out of Dodge. And the only way to do that is by plane. We’re in agreement. I talked with your guys in Canada and agreed to let them fly in your Cessna 206. It should be here within the next 10 minutes. You said you could fly it and won’t need a pilot. Good, because none of my guys or your guys want to go where you’re going.

  “Tank, you might want to listen up. According to Jeb’s instructions to me, he doesn’t need a pilot—or room for a companion. If I were a betting man I would think that means that he intended to kill you and anyone else who thought they were going with him. I have an offer for you. But it will require that you make a quick decision. You’ve got the count of three. Throw out your gun. Walk out the front door and lay on the ground with your hands over your head. Or… or, Eric will shoot you.”

  The rustling from inside the cabin was audible.

  “Counting now.

  “One. Two. Three.”

  A gun flew from the open door, followed by Tank, skittering across the ground and lying face down, panting, with his hands over his head.

  “Good choice. Tank. You can lie there for a bit, until you get your breath. And until Jeb and I finish our negotiations.”

  Nate geared up for next move.

  “Eric, Mark? Mind if we do a sit rep on mic? It’d be good for Jeb to hear this.”

  Mark echoed Eric’s terse, “Roger that, Big Dog.”

  “Regarding the plane, Mark. Do you have an ETA?”

  “Ten klicks out, Big Dog. Will be here in minutes.”

  “Good. Okay, Eric, let’s do a body count.”

  Nate ticked off the details.

  “To review. Dickie and Mitch are on their way to jail. There are five bodies in the woods. Chuck’s make six. Let’s see. Six bodies, two in custody makes eight. Adding Tank, who from what I can see from here is lying in a puddle of piss, that makes a total of nine. That your count, Eric?”

  “Roger that, Big Dog.”

  “Mark, you agree.”

  “Copy that, Nate.”

  Nate turned back to his enemy.

  “Okay, Jeb, my team is in agreement. We count nine of your men now belong to us. That means that you have one man left. You.”

  Silence settled over the scene. Nate held his breath. He wasn’t disappointed. In fact, if he didn’t hate the man with every fiber of his being, he might have been impressed by Jeb’s sanguine response. Jeb’s voice was calm, with an edge of humor.

  “Thought you were better at math than that, Nate. Hell, bro, we learned to add in kindergarten when we weren’t peekin’ up Mrs. Paulson’s skirt. I hear what you’re seeing out there. But the view in here is different. From what I can see here, I count four. Two men and two women.”

  Nate nodded and measured his reply, forcing the emotion out of it.

  “I concede the point, Jeb. You have three people who mean more to me than anything in the world. That does change the math.”

  Jeb snorted, “It sure as hell does, asshole.”

  He added. “Now, my friend I believe we are ready to begin the negotiations.”

  Chapter 28

  Nate sucked in a calming breath, then grabbed another.

  “One non-negotiable point, Jeb. My earlier threat holds true. If you touch either woman, I’ll chop you in so many pieces, a shoebox will hold your remains with room to spare.”

  At the rumble in the sky, Nate looked up to see the plane circling, preparing to land in the clearing by the cabin.

  “Here’s the plane now. This might surprise you, Jeb, but I want you out of my town as much as you want to be gone. I’ve cut a deal with your pilot. He’s agreed to surrender and
do five years on drug possession. Guess he figured you’d kill him first chance you got. You said you can fly the plane so we’re gonna take your word on it.”

  “So far so good, Nate.”

  “Glad you approve. Here’s what we’re gonna do. First, you’re gonna cut Sam loose. You can use him as a shield or any damn way you want to get into the plane.”

  “Hold on there, Nate. Come again? You’re sayin’ I’m supposed to cut loose a nationally ranked MMA cage fighter that took us seven men and as many guns to string him up? I’m supposed to cut that man down and he’ll amble along beside me and escort me to the plane?”

  Jeb barked a short laugh. “I don’t think so, bro.”

  Nate chuckled in response.

  “Ah, hell, Jeb. It was worth a try. In that case, Annika will do the honors.”

  “Wrong again, Nate. No deal. She’s a cop and while I’d like nothin’ better than pistol whipping the smart-mouthed slut to death, she ain’t going to be my escort.

  “Nope, buddy, the only person who’s going to accompany me up those steps is Erin. She’s gonna be standing right in front of me. So close and in such a way that I don’t care if your shooters can take a pimple off my ass at a hundred yards. My gun barrel buried in her skull means if I die, she dies.”

  Nate activated the private communication system.

  “Speak up, Mark. Don’t have to tell you that I’m skatin’ on thin ice here. If it wasn’t for Sam, Annika and Erin, I woulda been inside that shack ten minutes ago and packing Jeb’s remains in that aforementioned shoe box. The fact that he’s gonna be hiding behind Erin is about to kill me, bro.”

  “I know that, Nate. You’ve done better than any man could—hell you’ve been sensational. But you’re not alone. Eric and his men have more than done their share. And if I do say so myself, my team’s not too shabby either. We’ve got your six, big time, bro.”

  Nate groaned.

  “Jesus, dude. You too, Eric. You know I couldn’t have done it without you and that I appreciate the hell out of you both. Humor me, Mark. Confirm again that guy you planted inside the Cartel came through.”