Claiming Her_A Romance Collection

by R. R. Banks

  Mike looks at his glass thoughtfully. “What's the op?”

  “Rescue,” I say – and knowing what he likes to hear, add, “with the option to blow some shit up and kill some bad guys.”

  His eyes light up and a slow smile spreads across his face. “No shit?” he asks. “You yankin' my chain?”

  “Have I ever?”

  “No, suppose not,” he says. “Where's the job?”

  “Wyoming.”

  “Militia country,” he says. “Bunch of Second Amendment freaks out that way.”

  “And pseudo-religious, doomsday prepping cults.”

  He laughs and nods. “Yeah, them too.”

  “So, what's it going to cost me?”

  “For you?” he says, sipping his drink. “Two fifty. That's my good friend discount.”

  “Make it five,” I say. “Two things I need though.”

  He looks at me curiously. “Name it.”

  “One, it has to be now. We can't wait. Time is critical,” I say. “Second, I'm part of your team.”

  Mike sips his drink and looks at me for a long moment. “Five hundred grand, huh?” he says. “Must be important.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Done.”

  “Perfect,” I say.

  Over the next hour, I fill him in on all the details. I make sure to tell him that the FBI will be getting involved – something that seems to particularly delight him. He nods throughout, takes a few notes, but doesn't say much. But then, Mike's never been a big talker anyway.

  “That it?” he asks.

  “That's it.”

  “Should be a walk in the park,” he says. “These doomsday preppers talk big, but they're a bunch of pussies when the real shit starts flying.”

  “How soon can you have your team ready to go?” I ask.

  “Given the urgency of the situation,” he says. “Give me until tomorrow morning. Wheels up at oh-six-hundred. That should be enough time for me to round up my team, brief them, and gather our equipment. I'll text you with the location.”

  I nod. “Sounds good,” I say. “I'll wait for your text.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Calee

  After taking me from Eric's house, Raymond and his men had bound and gagged me before tossing me into the back of a van. And when the hood was finally removed, I found myself on a small aircraft. I struggled against my bonds – which earned me another smack across the face from Raymond.

  After that, we got airborne and it wasn't all that long before we were driving through the gates of the Ark once again. The night is pitch black, but I see that Raymond has made sure to alert the whole cult that their own personal Judas is returning. They line the yard, everybody bearing torches, giving it all a surreal quality.

  “Home sweet home, huh?” Raymond asks as Harold pulls me out of the truck.

  My hands are still bound and the gag is still in place. Raymond gives me a sickening smile and takes the gag off of me.

  “Now, if you spit on me again, I'm going to have to do something incredibly mean to you, sweetheart,” he says. “So, do yourself a favor and let's just get along now, okay?”

  I struggle with the bonds but can't break free. The adrenaline has long since worn off and my head is pounding. I'm exhausted, in pain, and frustrated beyond words. Tears well in my eyes and I can't stop them from falling. It kills me to be showing weakness in front of him, but I can't help it.

  “Let's go,” Harold says, giving me a rough shove from behind.

  I walk through the compound and glance at all of the faces glowing in the flickering torchlight, looking at me in silent judgment.

  As they march me back to the Reflection Room, I contemplate making a break for it. I know I won't get far before they gun me down, but maybe that's a better way to go out than whatever Raymond has planned for me.

  The door is opened and I'm shoved inside. Raymond follows me in and finally cuts the bonds from my wrists. They're sore and chaffed, hurting, but I rub them anyway. When I enter the room though, I'm surprised to find that it's not empty.

  “Rachel?” I ask.

  She's huddled in a corner and even by the meager light of the lantern, I can see the cuts and bruises on her face. She's been roughed up. She looks at me with wide eyes and I see the tears begin to flow.

  “Apparently, your betrayal is contagious,” Raymond says. “It took me a while, but I finally found out it was my dear wife her who helped you escape. Oh, she resisted at first, but after a little – persuasion – she finally admitted to her crimes. And now, sadly, she's going to have to pay the price alongside you. Looks like we'll be having a two-for-one tomorrow.”

  “Screw you,” I hiss at him. “Let her go. She's just a child.”

  “She knew full well the consequences of helping you, I'm afraid,” he says. “She's accepted her fate. Maybe it's time you do too.”

  I take a step toward him and he raises his hand, showing me the long-curved blade of the knife he's holding.

  “Or, I can filet you up right here and now,” he says, his voice calm and cold. “I'd rather not though. I think the folks out there deserve a show. They've earned it for their loyalty.”

  “You're sick, Raymond,” I say. “A disgusting piece of human garbage.”

  He nods and laughs. “I've been called far worse,” he says. “By far better.”

  “You just wait,” I say. “Eric is coming for me and he's going to kill you.”

  “Oh, is he?” he asks.

  “Yes. He is.”

  “Well, I wish him the best of luck,” he says. “Army veteran or not, he's one man. And one man isn't going to be able to do much against my flock.”

  Raymond turns and walks back toward the door and pauses. He turns and looks back at me.

  “Tomorrow,” he says. “Midnight. You and Rachel are going to be executed for your disloyalty to this community. Take comfort in the fact that your deaths will serve a greater purpose. Your deaths will show everybody that disloyalty is not tolerated and there are consequences to our actions.”

  He walks out and closes the door behind him followed by the sound of the locks being snapped into place. I turn and rush over to Rachel, drop to my knees and pull her into a tight embrace. She leans into me, holding me tight, and sobs. Her body shakes and her wails echo around the empty room. I stroke her hair and try to soothe her.

  “He's going to come,” I say. “Eric. He's going to come and he's going to save us. And he's going to kill Raymond. Just wait, honey. You'll see.”

  She looks up at me, her lips trembling, her eyes wide. “I'm so scared,” she says. “I don't want to die.”

  “You're not going to die, Rachel,” I say. “Eric isn't going to let them hurt either one of us. You'll see.”

  “Th – the things they did to me,” she says, her voice trembling and soft. “I can't –”

  “Ssssh,” I say and stroke her hair. “It's going to be okay. You'll see. Everything is going to be fine.”

  My heart is in my throat and my stomach is in knots. I need to stay strong. I need to keep calm and be reassuring for Rachel, So, I keep saying it, not knowing whether I'm trying to convince her or myself.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Eric

  I'm thankful to have survived the plane ride from California to Wyoming – especially the landing. Wanting to avoid the authorities, Mike's pilot had put us down on a long, rough strip of dirt in the middle of cow country.

  “Is that a legal runway?” I ask as we gather near an old dilapidated barn.

  “Depends on your definition of legal,” he says. “I don't think the FAA would approve, no.”

  “Why in the hell is there a runway out here anyway?”

  Mike shrugs. “It's used by smugglers and other unsavory types.”

  “And yet, here we are,” I say. “I guess that makes us the unsavory types?”

  “Depends on who you ask,” he says and laughs.

  His team consists of three others
aside from him – all ex-Special Forces. They do private contracting work, which is a euphemism for privately contracted black ops – assassinations and the like. But I'm not picky. These men are hard, tough, and know what they're doing. And, they are willing to do the morally ambiguous things for a paycheck. In other words, they're just the kind of guys I need.

  “We have a man in position outside the compound running surveillance already,” Mike tells me. “He's keeping tabs on things and says your girl was taken into a small outbuilding and locked inside. He's listening on a parabolic mike and they're apparently set to kill her tonight at midnight. That's the good news.”

  “That's good news?” I say.

  He shrugs. “Better than having to tell you they killed her already.”

  “Good point.”

  The day is warm and I can feel the sweat rolling down my back, conjuring memories of my time over in the Shit. We're wearing plain black fatigues, flak jackets, and standard issue boots. Just like the uniform I had to wear in-country.

  “The bad news is that they know – or at least think – we're coming,” he says. “So, they're amped up and ready for us. According to my man outside, they've got at least a dozen heavily armed men inside the walls. The trouble is, because we don't have the time to run a proper recon, we don't know they're capabilities, so we're essentially going in blind.”

  “But that's what makes it kind of fun,” says one of his guys named Manny.

  Mike shrugs. “Definitely ups the adrenaline factor,” he smiles. “Not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “So, what can we do to even the odds?” I ask.

  Mike runs a hand through his short, salt and pepper colored hair. “Ideally? Get him to let his guard down,” he says. “If they relax a bit, it makes the target softer. The softer the target, the harder we can hit, the more damage we can do.”

  I think about it, try to find some way to get Raymond to let his guard down. I rack my brain as my stomach continues to do flip-flops inside of me. I feel every second of the clock passing and know that with each second that passes, Calee comes one second closer to her death.

  “Wait,” I say. “I think I have an idea.”

  “What is it?” Mike asks.

  “I've got Raymond's number,” I say. “He called Calee on her phone just before he took her. She dropped the phone and I've got it. Maybe I can call him. Make him think I'm still in California and that I'm letting the FBI handle things.”

  Mike looks into the distance as if weighing the option in his mind and then he nods. “That might work,” he says. “At the very least, it's not going to do any harm.”

  I pull Calee's cell phone out of my pocket and punch the button for her recent calls. Hitting the button, I dial the number and hold my breath until I hear the other end of the line ringing. My tension grows with each passing moment, waiting for him to answer – which he does, on the fourth ring.

  “I'm guessing since Calee is with me, back where she belongs,” Raymond says, his voice colored by a slight Midwestern accent, “that this is her ex-boyfriend, Eric Galloway. Let me just say, you were a hard man to track down. Took me a little while, but we finally got there, didn't we?”

  “You're in a world of shit, asshole,” I say.

  “Is that so?” he asks. “Seems like it's Calee who's in the world of shit. Oh, really nice house by the way. I really especially liked the view of the ocean. Very peaceful.”

  “I've contacted the FBI,” I spit. “You kidnapped her and took her across state lines, Raymond. You're looking at federal charges, asshole.”

  There's laughter on the other end of the line. “You're actually trusting the FBI to come rescue Calee?” he asks. “If anything, even if they show up here in time, we're just going to have another Waco or Ruby Ridge – and can you guess how many people survived those things?”

  “And that's what you really want, isn't it?” I say. “You want to be immortalized as the next David Koresh.”

  “Well, people are still talking about him years after the fact,” he says. “Being a part of history isn't necessarily a bad thing.”

  “You're one twisted prick,” I say.

  “So I've been told,” he says. “But you didn't call me just to threaten or insult me, did you? What is it you want, Dr. Galloway?”

  “I want you to set Calee free,” I say. “Set her free before the FBI shows up and maybe you walk away without a prison sentence. I can convince her to not name you as her abductor.”

  “Well, that's the wrong tactic to take, doctor,” he says, amusement in his voice. “You should open up the negotiations by offering payment. You always lead with the money, Eric. I can call you Eric, can't I?”

  I look up at Mike who nods for me to keep going. “How much do you want?”

  “Ten million dollars,” he says. “That number has a nice ring to it. What do you think?”

  “I – I can get that for you,” I say. “It might take me a day or so, but I can get that to you. No problem.”

  “No problem, huh?” Raymond says. “What if I want one hundred million? Could you get that for me too?”

  I feel my anger growing inside of me. He thinks he's screwing with me. Enjoying my torment. I can't wait to put a bullet in this asshole.

  “You're not interested in money,” I say.

  “Oh, on the contrary, I'm very interested in money,” he says. “It costs quite a bit to keep our little community here afloat. And I happen to know you have a lot of it. So, how about it, Doc? One hundred million sound like a fair price to get your lady fair back?”

  “It will take me a little time to get it together,” I say. “But I'll go down to the bank right now and get the process started.”

  “How much time?”

  “Probably a couple of days,” I say. “I don't know for sure. I have people who handle the money for me.”

  “You have until midnight tonight,” he says.

  “I can guarantee you I won't be able to get it by then,” I say. “Just give me a little time. I'll go to the bank now.”

  “Midnight. Tonight.”

  “That's not going to work.”

  “Then your lady fair is going to die,” he says. “Would you like us to ship her back to you in a box when we're done with her?”

  “The FBI is on their way, Raymond,” I say. “You either cut a deal with me now, I walk into the bank and get it going, or you face the Feds when they show up.”

  There's a pause on the line for a moment. “I think I'll take my chances with the Feds,” he says. “But hey, thanks for calling, Doc. It was great talking to you. I'll be sure to pass along your sentiments to Calee before she dies.”

  The line goes dead in my hand and I look at it for a moment before dropping it into my pocket. I look up at Mike.

  “Think he bought it?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Hard to say yet,” he replies. “Only time will tell. Cooper will let us know what the disposition is before we hit the compound.”

  “What time are we moving?”

  “If they've got until midnight,” he says. “We'll hit the target at nine. We'll be under the cover of full dark.”

  I look up to see fat, fluffy clouds floating lazily across the sky. “And hopefully, we'll have a thick cloud cover that smothers the moonlight.”

  “Here's hoping,” he says. “Okay, listen up. We move out at eight. We hit it at nine. So until then, go into the barn and get some rest.”

  I nod and head into the run down old building. I doubt I'll be able to sleep though. Not with Calee in the hands of a lunatic.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  We catch a break. The clouds overhead are thick and in the distance I can hear the rumble of thunder. The storm's coming, but we still have a little time. We'd carefully moved through the open fields that surround the compound, drifting from pocket of shadow to pocket of shadow. We're all equipped with night-vision goggles, which makes it easier to see where we're going – as well as see any potential threats in the da
rkness.

  We finally reach Mike's man who's been positioned on a small hill overlooking the compound since the night before. He's camouflaged so well that I didn't see him until we walked up on him. He'd simply risen up from the ground like some zombie bursting up and through his grave.

  “Sit rep,” Mike says as we kneel down next to him.

  “They've been busy,” he says. “They're still setting up like they're planning on a party tonight. The girl is still locked in that outbuilding. But the security seems to have loosened a bit. From the chatter I've picked up, they think Galloway is in California still. They've also put in a call to somebody – obviously a friend – at the Bureau, asking to stall the team coming out to the compound. At least until tomorrow – though, Raymond said dismissing the case altogether would be the ideal situation.”

  I check my watch and see that it's eight-forty-five. Almost go time.

  “Loosened security is a good thing,” I say.

  Mike nods. “Very good,” he replies.

  “What's the plan, boss?” Manny asks.

  “Simple,” Mike says. “Four in the front, two in the back. The three of us will hit the front with some explosive charges. Draw their attention and gunfire to the front gates. Eric and Manny, I want you both going through that gate in the south wall. It's closest to the outbuilding. While these assholes are busy with us at the front, you two sneak in the back, grab his girl, and get the hell out of there. Give me the signal when you're getting away so we can disengage and get the hell out ourselves.”

  I exchange looks with the other men, suddenly feeling like I'm right back in the Shit. Except this time, I'm carrying a gun. And instead of patching people up, I'm going to be putting people down.

  “Any questions?” Mike asks.

  We all look at each other and then back at Mike, shaking our heads. Like he said, it's a simple plan.

  “Okay then, ladies,” Mike says. “Let's go take our places. The curtain is about to go up. And you two in back – wait for my signal.”