Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Sam (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Abbie Zanders

  “Smoke.” Church stepped in front of him. “I know this is personal for you, man. I need to know where your head’s at.”

  Resisting the urge to move him out of the way, Steve reminded himself that Church had been their team leader. “My head is just fine. And I could ask you the same thing. You got history with Cavatelli, too.”

  A muscle ticked in Church’s jaw. “Point taken. Let’s go get your woman and take care of this son of a bitch once and for all.”

  * * *

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” Anthony asked, sweeping his hand toward the fireplace. He sat on the sofa beside her, close but not uncomfortably so. Half of the ham and cheese hoagie he had made for them to share remained untouched on the TV tray table in front of her.

  “The way they dance like that, it’s mesmerizing. I make them dance. They’re dancing for you, you know. They’re happy for us. You should eat.”

  He was nuts. Certifiably insane. He stayed calm, though, as long as she didn’t do or say anything to upset him.

  “Don’t worry, Samantha; you’re safe here. I’ll take care of you. No one will bother us.”

  “No one?” she asked. They were in a boarded-up house, so maybe there were other houses around, too. Chances for help. “What about neighbors?”

  He chuckled, his eyes glistening again. “Gone. They’re all gone.”

  Oh, God. The sips of water she had forced down threatened to make a dramatic reappearance. “Did you …?”

  It took a moment for him to grasp what she was asking. When he did, his eyes widened. “No, of course not. But I suppose I am responsible, in a way.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No, I can see that,” he said, leaning forward as if to share a great secret. “This town was once called Miner’s Hollow. It’s abandoned now.”

  Miner’s Hollow. She had heard of the town. It had made national news years earlier, right about the time she went to live with her grandparents. It was a mountain town, known for its rich veins of anthracite coal. However, the actual mines had closed down a long time ago, well before the underground fires, but the tunnels remained. Somehow, a fire had started down there and spread. By the time the fires were discovered, they had spread too far, resisting any and all attempts to contain it.

  Experts said, with the nearly inexhaustible fuel supply, it would take more than a hundred years to simply burn itself out and would become increasingly hazardous to the residents. As a result, the government paid pennies on the dollar to buy up the properties and forcibly evacuate everyone within a fifty-mile radius. Roads had been closed and bridges destroyed to discourage the curious from poking around.

  Her hopes faded. If that was truly where they were, it was unlikely anyone would find them.

  “I didn’t start the fires intentionally,” Anthony was saying. “Well, I mean, I did”—he grinned shyly—“but I never imagined the possibilities. I hated this town, hated everyone in it. My mother grew up here, but you wouldn’t know it by the way they treated her. Treated me. I’m glad they’re all gone. Now we have the whole place to ourselves.”

  “I remember seeing pictures on TV,” Sam said, her mind whirling. “Smoke coming up through cracks in the ground; the nearby forests glowing red at night. Like hell on earth, they called it.”

  His expression grew stormy, and he clenched his fists. “No, Samantha, hell is living in a world where people don’t understand you. Where they hate you because you’re special.” Just as suddenly, his face cleared. “But not you, Samantha. You saw me. And now we can be happy together.”

  “We can’t stay here, Anthony,” she said, striving to keep her voice calm and rational, even as the panic tried to gain hold. “There’s no electricity, no heat.”

  “The fire will provide,” he said confidently. “You and I, we’re going to live a simpler life. We can grow our own vegetables; did you know that mixing ash and dirt creates an ideal garden bed? And I’ll hunt for us. There are lots of game in the woods now that the people are gone, and I’m an excellent shot. We can roast fresh meat on a spit, just like they did in the old days.” His eyes lit up with the possibilities. “Mountain-fed spring water, too. Best you’ve ever tasted.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know much about surviving in the wilderness.”

  He patted her arm, and she fought not to recoil. “Don’t worry, Samantha; I’ll teach you everything you need to know. I’ve been doing it for years. We’ll be like pioneers!”

  “But surely, we’ll be missed,” Sam said weakly. “Someone will come looking for us.” God, please let someone come looking for us.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty head, Samantha. I’ve taken care of everything.”

  The certainty in his voice was chilling. “What do you mean, Anthony? What have you taken care of?”

  “Everyone who tried to keep us apart is gone now. Your grandparents, Mr. Santori, that guy who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

  Oh, God. “The fires. It was you.”

  He nodded. “I did it for you, Samantha. For us. Just like those people at the resort who were going to make us leave. And your grandparents—they wouldn’t tell me where you were. Mr. Santori hurt you when he cheated you like that. He had to pay.”

  Sam felt as if her entire world had tilted on its axis. “And Steve?”

  Anthony grinned. “I made a little adjustment to his brakes, that’s all. The fire in the apartment building, though, that was all you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Working together felt comfortable, familiar. This was his team. He had trusted them with his life more times than he could count. Now he was trusting them with Sam’s.

  They had all agreed that involving the local authorities wasn’t in their best interests. Not only did Steve have an open warrant out for his arrest, but it would take too long to explain everything. And, since they couldn’t explain where or how they had gotten their information, the chances of being believed hovered between slim and none.

  That was fine by him. Steve didn’t have a very high opinion of the ones he had dealt with thus far, and Church seemed to agree. Spend a lot of time with someone and you learned to read them. Steve was certain Church knew a lot more about the Sumneyville authorities than he was letting on.

  For now, they were operating on their own with clear goals—rescue Sam and eliminate any further threat.

  They drove as far as they dared using unmarked access roads and GPS coordinates provided by Tex. Dressed in black and prepared for any eventuality, they went the rest of the way on foot.

  Miner’s Hollow was a ghost town. What were once neighborhoods now looked like a post-apocalyptic war zone. Homes sat abandoned. Weeds and scrub pushed up through cracks in once-smooth roads and sidewalks. Areas of indistinct, red glows along the ground provided the only source of light beyond the waning crescent moon, an indication of the slow burning anthracite veins far below the surface. Occasional tendrils of smoke drifted just above the ground, adding to the eerie feel.

  Night vision goggles and years of stealth experience brought them to the childhood home of Anthony Cavatelli. The home was a small, boxy thing, wedged between two others that looked just like it. The windows were boarded up, and the same, faded “No Trespassing” signs were posted on the doors.

  At first glance, they saw nothing unusual. Then Heff’s whisper came through their ear pieces. “Do you smell that?”

  Steve lifted his nose and sniffed. Smoke. But not the same scent that permeated the whole area. This wasn’t the scent of an underground fire. This was the scent of wood smoke.

  With a series of hand signals, Church directed them into positions surrounding the home. When everyone was in place, another predetermined signal closed their circle.

  Suddenly, a discordant series of metallic clanks rang out, breaking the eerie silence.

  “Fuck,” muttered Mad Dog into the comm sets. “Tripwire.”

  * * *

  “What was that?” Sam asked, startled by the sudden
clanging noise. It sounded as if someone had just dumped a bunch of aluminum cans outside the door.

  Anthony shot to his feet, his happiness fading. “The alarm. Come. We have to go.”

  “Go where?” Sam asked as Anthony yanked her to her feet and practically dragged her toward an interior door. She struggled and tried to hold back, but he was too strong.

  “Hurry!” he prodded.

  He shut the door behind them and shot ahead of her, pulling her down the stairs. She slipped in the darkness partway down, causing them both to tumble the rest of the way. Anthony got the worst of it, grunting as she landed on top of him.

  She scrabbled to her feet with the intention of running back up the steps, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back down. “No!” he hissed. “This way!”

  “Anthony, stop!” she cried, hoping whoever had tripped Anthony’s alarm would hear her.

  “Shhh!” he commanded. He covered her mouth with one hand and curled his other arm around her waist. Pulling her tightly against his body, he then dragged her backward, away from the steps and back against the wall.

  They stood in the silence, listening, her heart pounding against the inside of her ribs. Then she heard it. The creak of a floorboard directly above their heads.

  Knowing this might be her only chance, Sam lifted her foot and stomped hard on Anthony’s instep. She followed that up by immediately bending at the waist and shoving her elbow backward with a sharp jab into his solar plexus.

  He grunted again but didn’t let go. Instead, he grabbed her by the hair and spun them both around, slamming her back up against the concrete wall.

  “I won’t let them take you from me,” he vowed as he pressed his body against hers. “You are mine, and we are going to be happy together. I’m sorry about this, Samantha. I know you don’t understand yet, but it’s for the best.”

  She barely had time to register his words before pain exploded against the side of her face, and then everything went dark.

  * * *

  “In my sights.”

  Steve had heard Heff speak those words a hundred times before, but they had never sounded sweeter.

  “Copy that. Can you get a lock?”

  “Negative. He’s running, got Sam in a fireman’s carry, heading east.”

  “Slow his roll, Mad Dog.”

  “On it.”

  Steve emerged through the now open double doors leading from the basement into the side yard, just in time to see Cavatelli slip through the overgrown hedgerow separating the properties. He put on a burst of speed and followed, emerging on the other side, then hitting the ground when he caught the glint of steel. The shot missed him, but it was close enough for him to feel the breeze.

  “Fucker’s got a gun,” Steve said, getting to his feet and following.

  “So do we,” commented Cage. “And ours are bigger.”

  Anthony might have thought he had an advantage by knowing the area, but that wasn’t going to save him. He had no idea who he was up against, or the lengths they would go to get Sam back, safe and sound. Sam was Smoke’s, and therefore, theirs.

  “Let the girl go,” Church said from just ahead.

  Steve drew closer to find Anthony cornered in a detached garage by both Mad Dog and Church.

  The situation was tense. Cavatelli had Sam held in front of him like a shield, the gun moving back and forth between Mad Dog and Church. Sam’s head and limbs hung limp as if she was unconscious. The pungent smell of gasoline hung heavy in the air.

  “Never. She’s mine.”

  “Let me hear her say that.”

  “Stay back!”

  “Can’t do that, Anthony.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “We know everything, Anthony. We know about the fires. We know how you’ve been terrorizing Sam.”

  “No! I love her. It was all for her.”

  “It’s over, Anthony. Put down the gun before someone gets hurt.”

  Steve had seen his share of men come to the realization they couldn’t win. They all reacted the same. The moment of desperation in their eyes, followed by blind rage, and finally, acceptance. Anthony was no different.

  Except none of those men had been holding his woman when the truth sank in.

  “If you know everything,” Anthony said, his voice oddly hollow, “then you know how this is going to end.” A snick sounded in the silence as the hand around Sam’s waist moved, sparking a lighter to flame. The smile on the sick bastard’s face was pure madness as he tossed the lighter onto the floor … the floor drenched with gasoline.

  Several things happened in quick succession. Steve charged forward, intent on getting Sam away from the flames. Anthony squeezed off two quick shots, even as Heff took his one. And fire flared to life, filling the space within seconds.

  Steve barely registered the burn in his shoulder. All he could see was Sam falling toward the fuel-drenched floor. A sudden sharp pain in his leg, though, caused him to stumble. Regardless, he dove forward, covering Sam with his own body to keep the flames away. Church and Mad Dog were there a heartbeat later, dragging them both to safety.

  “Check her out first,” Steve commanded when Doc started poking at him.

  Doc didn’t argue, giving her a quick once-over instead of arguing. “Strong heartbeat, good breathing, pupils responsive.”

  “She’s okay?”

  “Yeah, Smoke, she’s okay. She’s going to have a hell of a headache and a real nice shiner when she wakes up, but that’s it. Mind if I take a look at your bullet wounds now?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  * * *

  Sam came to with another headache. This one was different than the last one, though. This one came less from inside her head and more from the aching throb along the side of her face.

  Sensing movement, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. It was dark, and she was lying on something firm and warm. No, not something, someone. Someone with a large hand who was gently stroking her hair. Someone who smelled like …

  “Steve?”

  “Yeah, baby,” he said, his voice somewhat groggy. “I got you.”

  Baby? She lifted her head from his shoulder, afraid she was dreaming. But she wasn’t dreaming. She was in the back seat of an SUV, tucked up against Steve’s warm, hard body. In the muted lights of the dashboard, she could see his handsome face, see his beautiful eyes as he gave her a tired but very real smile.

  “Hey, Sam,” Church greeted, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. He was driving, and Doc was sitting in the front passenger seat.

  “You found me.”

  “Always,” Steve said.

  “But how?”

  “Long story.”

  “Anthony?”

  “Is no longer an issue.”

  A sense of relief flooded her, but it was short-lived.

  “Why does it look like there are bloody bandages on your shoulder and leg?”

  “Because somebody got his ass shot,” Church grunted out.

  “It’s all good,” Steve said in a calming tone, though he shot an irritated glance toward the front.

  “Good? How can it be good? You’ve been shot.”

  He grinned at her as if he wasn’t sporting fresh, bleeding bullet wounds. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Sam turned toward Doc. “You gave him drugs, didn’t you?”

  “Had to. He was whining like a baby.”

  “Was not,” Steve said, shooting him a lethargic middle finger salute. “At least I’m not the one who got tripped up by a wire and twenty-year-old beer cans.”

  “That wasn’t me. That was Mad Dog.”

  “Not what he said.”

  Sam couldn’t believe they were joking about this. She was just about to say something when Steve tugged her closer, using the arm that hadn’t been shot.

  “Later, okay, Sam?” he said quietly.

  “Okay,” she agreed, hearing the pain in his voice beneath the teasing. She would get answers, b
ut at that moment, all she wanted to do was feel him next to her, solid and breathing and real.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The shot Doc gave him once they got in the vehicle was making it hard to keep his eyes open, but he wanted to reassure Sam that he was fine. He had seen the fear in her eyes, felt her trembling against him. He had meant what he said. He would explain everything, but later, once Doc patched him up and they were far away from Miner’s Hollow.

  None of them knew if the fire would be spotted, or if help would be sent out, but Tex had said something about drones that did routine sweeps over the area, mostly trying to catch kids and others who snuck into the restricted area. In any case, it was better if their presence and involvement in the evening’s events were kept strictly between them.

  Church pulled the vehicle into a parking garage. Mad Dog, Heff, and Cage were already there, waiting.

  “Express elevator at your service,” Heff grinned with an exaggerated bow.

  “Wait, isn’t this a hospital? Why aren’t we going to a hospital? Steve’s been shot.”

  “Hospitals have to report gunshot wounds,” Church told her simply. “And tonight never happened.”

  Sam’s eyes widened, her bottom lip trembled.

  “He’s going to be fine, Sam,” Doc said gently. “I promise.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “You and Steve need to lie low for a couple of days, so we’ve booked a suite. We’ll grab whatever you need and bring it to you. Room service is okay, but if you need anything else, one of us will provide it. Got it?”

  “Got it.” She nodded, then slipped her arm around Steve’s waist. “Well, what are we waiting for? This man needs rest.”

  Steve smiled at the firmness of her tone, then concentrated on staying upright long enough to make it into the hotel room.

  The next few hours passed in a blur. Doc removed the bullet from his shoulder. The one he had taken in the thigh had gone right through.

  Steve vaguely remembered Sam cleaning him up with a warm washcloth, then stretching out beside him on the king-sized bed. When he woke up again, he was in bed alone. Sam had just emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing out behind her.