Beyond Duty

by Stanalei Fletcher

  In other words, you don’t need me anymore. I wonder if Riley feels the same.

  General Anderson had been quietly watching the exchange and joined the conversation. “Remember Lieutenant, you still have an obligation to the Army to complete. Take Byron’s advice, and let O’Neal finish the assignment so you can return to your duties.”

  “His name’s Riley, Daddy.” She gave her father a sharp stare. “And he saved my life.”

  Her father raised a brow at her outburst. “I’m aware of his name, and I’ll never forget what I owe him.” He took a deep breath and settled his gaze on her. “Our immediate concern is for your well-being. Stop being stubborn. This assignment is over for you, do I make myself clear?”

  Chip felt ashamed for accusing her father of not being grateful. She gazed at the resolute faces of her father and Byron O’Neal. They presented an unyielding wall and she’d never scale it in her weakened condition. She retreated for another day. “Yes, Sir.”

  She lowered her gaze so neither man could see the determination on her face. A retreat wasn’t as good as a win, but she’d take it for now.

  ****

  Riley paced the resort’s cabin floor in front of the recliner where Chip had slept. He’d returned to retrieve their luggage. His father had assured him Chip would be well cared for by the general and had stressed that Riley’s duties lay elsewhere. Those assurances didn’t erase Riley’s desire to be with her. But he couldn’t. Not until he’d found every last person who was involved in the plot to hurt her.

  His father was right, of course. He was better off keeping his commitment to finish the assignment. The interrogations hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. There were rules to follow and no one had let Riley in the room since they realized he wanted to beat the answers out of the prisoners. They hadn’t yet learned where Weston had disappeared to, but they had confirmed the prisoners worked for the upstart cartel, El Rey del Sur.

  It seemed the cartel was impatient to climb the ranks in the drug business and had found a weakness to exploit in Weston. It apparently hadn’t taken much to twist Weston’s arm for cooperation. But as much as they had learned, they still didn’t have the leader. Riley believed Weston was the one person who could give them the head of El Rey del Sur.

  Unfortunately, Weston had disappeared right before the raid on the cabin in New Mexico. He wasn’t in Washington, D.C., where he should have been with Pomeroy. Surveillance on his mother’s house had been a bust as well. It was as though he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

  For security reasons, as well as for the protection of Senator Burnsworth’s reputation, they couldn’t ask for the public’s help by broadcasting Dean Weston’s face over national television. The blackmail and kidnapping had to remain under wraps. Riley was on task to find him. But now that the senate session was over, Northstar was able to call in the local police as well as other agencies. A BOLO, be-on-the-look-out, was broadcast for Dean Weston as a person of interest wanted for questioning. And Riley wanted to ask the questions.

  He stopped pacing and gazed around the cabin. If he couldn’t get the answers he wanted from the prisoners, maybe he could get more information from Senator Pomeroy about his aide. The man had to know some details about his own staff. Surely they had done a background check, knew of extended family or associates. Something. Anything.

  Riley’s things were already packed and ready to leave, but he hadn’t touched Chip’s belongings. The act seemed too personal, too intimate, and he wasn’t sure he was up to the task. He wanted intimacy with her, but he was also afraid of losing himself so completely to another person that he’d become half a man. He was afraid of the loneliness he saw in his father’s life after his mother’s death. He’d sworn never to subject himself to that kind of anguish—especially knowing he’d already failed to protect her once.

  Regardless, Chip had come into his life and turned it upside down. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, only that he thought of her constantly. With her face in the back of his mind, Riley walked over to Chip’s duffel and carried it to the bed.

  ****

  Chip flew back to Washington, D.C. with her father. It had taken some doing, but she convinced her parents she was well enough to stay at her own place to rest. Two days in the hospital had been enough to drive her insane. She was through staring at four walls. The minute her father left the apartment, she called a cab to take her to Northstar to retrieve her car.

  When she arrived at the firm, she searched out the lab techs to thank them for their help in her rescue. Allison was on the phone when Chip walked over to her desk, so she waited for her to finish the call. When Senator Burnsworth’s name was mentioned, it was hard not to listen in.

  “The Senator and his wife are doing well. In fact, he’s decided to seek re-election at the end of this term.”

  There was another long pause before Allison spoke again. “Everything is in place. We have a go for oh-eight hundred tomorrow…that’ll be six in the morning, your time. Be careful.”

  Allison hung up the phone and smiled at Chip. “You’re looking well, considering what you’ve been through. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better now that I’m home.” Chip leaned on Allison’s desk. “Was that Riley you were talking to?”

  Allison nodded. “He’s wrapping up the case now.”

  “Where is he? It didn’t sound like he was in Washington.”

  “Heading to New Mexico.”

  Chip raised her eyebrows. “What’s he doing there?”

  “We’ve finally located Dean Weston.”

  “That’s great news. So he’s in custody?”

  “Not yet. But they’re closing in.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?”

  “The DEA is setting up a raid on Weston’s hidey-hole.”

  Chip pulled a chair up to Allison’s desk and sat. “You have to tell me how you found him.”

  Allison slid a folder to the side and propped an elbow on her desk. “Riley re-interviewed Lorraine Voras and she spilled the beans. She kept Weston up-to-date on their location. She even let him in the room at the resort, knowing what he was planning to do.”

  Chip leaned back in her chair and let out a low whistle. “I had a feeling she was keeping something from us. Poor Fiona, she must be devastated.”

  Allison nodded. “I don’t know if it was ultimately a sense of obligation, or a desire to save her own skin, but Lorraine agreed to a plea bargain. She confessed to tipping off Weston about you being General Anderson’s daughter.”

  “Now it makes sense how Riley and I walked into that trap. Lorraine must have known about the general’s involvement with Senator Burnsworth’s drone program.”

  “You guessed it.” Allison touched the tip of her nose. “The kidnappers grabbed you during the exchange to gain additional leverage to sway the vote.”

  “That was a brazen move that ended badly.” After learning about Lorraine’s involvement, Chip realized she and Fiona were lucky to still be alive. “So Lorraine gave up Weston’s location?”

  “No. The BOLO came through earlier today.” Allison gathered some papers on her desk and tapped them into a neat pile before sliding them into the folder. “In fact, the DEA learned that Weston used his cover as a senator’s aide to make trips to Mexico. That’s when he was contacted by the cartel and found a supplier for his own business in D.C.”

  “Seems like Weston has quite a reckoning coming.”

  “You don’t know, do you?” Allison tipped her head to the side.

  Chip frowned. “Know what?”

  “Remember that gang house raid last year?”

  Chip nodded. How could she forget? That first meeting with Riley was imprinted on her brain.

  “We’ve tied Dean Weston to the gang running the place. He was the supplier. If the cartel hadn’t used Weston to derail Senator Burnsworth’s UAS program, we might still be looking for the person who supplied the drugs.”

  “It’s all come full circle
,” Chip whispered. The only thing missing was for her and Riley to finish this assignment together. “So, Weston’s in New Mexico?”

  “The DEA found him holed up in a little house in a suburb of Albuquerque. They were instructed to hold on the arrest and allow Northstar in on the bust, per Senator Burnsworth’s instructions.”

  “And Riley’s in Albuquerque?” Chip tried to make the inquiry sound casual.

  “He’s on the way,” replied Allison. “The raid is set for six a.m. local time.”

  Chip leaned on Allison’s desk. “I have to be there. Can you help me with the arrangements?”

  Allison shook her head. “You can’t go. You’re still recovering.”

  “I’m fine.” Chip stood, stepped closer, and put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder to make her understand. “Weston is responsible for kidnapping my best friend. He caused humiliation and distrust on Capitol Hill, and he put the nation’s security at risk. Please, Allison, help me finish the job I started.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Riley held his Glock securely in both hands with the barrel angled toward the ground. He could hardly believe the moment had arrived. All he wanted was to catch Weston and make him accountable for what he’d done to Chip. Sure, it had been the cartel that pulled the strings, but Weston had executed their wishes with the kidnapping and blackmail. He was the one who’d revealed Chip’s identity to the cartel after Lorraine had contacted him. Bringing Weston in would also provide closure to the bust on the gang house last year. But more important than all of that was the possibility of exposing the head of El Rey del Sur.

  The lead DEA officer nodded to the team with the battering ram to break in the door. The crash of splintering wood reminded Riley that this was his third raid on a house in twelve months. It chilled him to think that Chip had been involved, in one way or another, on each one. He had protected her the first time, but he hadn’t been able to protect her from Weston and the cartel. This raid was payback against the man responsible for Chip’s kidnapping.

  DEA officers in helmets and high-tech body armor entered the house with strategic precision. A moment later, Riley heard a crash and shouts from inside. There was the pop of gunfire, and then a squawk on the radio attached to Riley’s tactical vest announced the suspect had shot an agent before disappearing through some hidden doorway.

  No way! Weston had escaped again?

  From his position outside the house, Riley heard the officers scramble to find their quarry. Riley rounded the corner of the house where he could watch in case Weston doubled back through a rear exit. The area was overgrown with tall grass and brush. At first, he couldn’t see anything, then he spotted movement and caught a glimpse of Weston’s dark head slinking through the brush.

  Riley approached cautiously, his grip firm on the 9mm. He dared not call to the others for fear of alerting Weston and losing the advantage of surprise. He was almost upon Weston when a branch rolled under his foot. His ankle turned and the branch snapped under his weight. He attempted to regain his balance, and dropped the barrel of his weapon. That was when Weston rose out of the brush and shot him.

  The bullet struck Riley’s vest and he bent over at the pain from a .38 caliber at close range.

  Before Riley could regain his breath, Weston raised his revolver again and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked and nothing happened.

  Weston swore and rushed at Riley, knocking him to his back. With no time to bring his own weapon up, Riley reached out and pulled Weston onto the ground with him as he fell. The man stank of days on the run—no change of clothes or shower. The odor mingled with the dust that kicked up as they wrestled, holding each other’s gun hand at bay.

  With Weston on top, Riley felt at a disadvantage against the other man’s raw desperation. They rolled, then rolled again, and Riley’s head struck a rock, sending stars and a sharp pain shooting behind his eyes. His grip on the Glock slipped and it ended up in Weston’s hand.

  Weston pulled back, sitting on top of Riley, Riley’s own gun pointed at his head.

  “That was too easy.” Weston sneered.

  Riley was furious at himself for making the rookie mistake of going after Weston alone. He was going to die, and had no one to blame but himself. “You’ll never get away. They’ll keep looking for you. Murder charges will be added to all the others you face.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I got you first. You’re not so great, you know. You and your girlfriend walked right into our trap. You couldn’t protect her, then. And you can’t protect yourself, now.”

  Weston was right. Riley was going to die with the knowledge he’d failed to protect Chip. Worst of all, he’d never told her how he felt.

  Weston’s finger slowly tightened on the trigger. Riley refused to die without fighting back. He swung a fist toward Weston’s face, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop the bullet in time.

  Surprisingly, Weston flinched to avoid the strike.

  Then from out of nowhere, a foot kicked the pistol from Weston’s hand, sending it spinning into the air. Riley looked up in time to see Chip wind up for another kick.

  What the hell was she doing here? Why wasn’t she following the doctor’s orders to rest?

  Weston had no time to duck, and took the full impact of Chip’s foot to his chin. His head snapped sideways and he rolled onto the ground. He came up on his hands and knees, then staggered to his feet.

  Chip inched forward, balancing on her toes. With the exception of a fading bruise on her face, she barely showed any ill effects from her earlier ordeal. That didn’t make it right for her to be here fighting his battles.

  Riley rose to his feet ready to tackle Weston, but Chip came in with another kick aimed at Weston’s groin. The fugitive doubled over and she closed in with both fists on the back of Weston’s head. He dropped face down in the dirt, moaning and writhing in pain.

  Chip bent over Weston, pulled his hands behind his back, and secured them with zip ties. She was binding his ankles when the other officers rushed into the field. As they yanked Weston to his feet and herded him to the front of the house, Chip ran over to Riley.

  ****

  “Are you hurt?” She ran her hands over his chest protection, searching him for any gunshot wounds after seeing the mark left by Weston’s bullet.

  One of the DEA agents called out, “Do we need a medic over here?”

  Riley raised a hand, waving him off. “I’m fine. Just need a minute.”

  “You should stay put. Let them check you out.” She held his shoulders, staring up at his face. “He shot you. You have to be hurting.”

  “Only my pride.” Riley used her own words.

  She smiled. “Pride heals.” She reached up where a trickle of blood ran down the side of his head. “You’re cut.”

  He pushed her hand aside. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  “My assignment.” Why was he swearing at her?

  “You had orders to stay home and rest.”

  “Those were not my original orders and you know it. I wasn’t leaving this job unfinished.” Or leaving you. Couldn’t he at least be grateful she’d saved his life?

  “That’s why I’m here.” He brushed away her hand. “To finish the assignment.”

  “And a fine job you were doing, too. Maybe we should go back to the part where Weston had a gun pointed between your eyes. We can pretend I never showed up.”

  He took a shallow breath and glanced at her with an embarrassed look. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You saved my life.”

  Chip cringed. She’d forced him to be indebted to her. The pain she’d endured from the kidnapper’s treatment was nothing compared to the hurt from Riley’s statement.

  He wouldn’t see her as his partner fulfilling her duty. He’d see her the way every other man had seen her. Men didn’t like a strong woman who showed them how weak they were. The realization stung. She may have won the day, but she’d lost the man. And this time th
e hurt went deep—because she cared.

  She took a step backward. “It was the least I could do, after you saved mine.”

  Riley winced as he reached down and retrieved his weapon. He wiped the dust off the Glock and holstered it. “So I guess we’re even, then.”

  “I guess so…”

  Paramedics rushed over and helped Riley to the medical unit, ending any further conversation. He would have a bruise where the bullet struck his vest and be lucky if he didn’t have a broken rib or two, but he refused treatment for now. At least the cut on his head was only superficial.

  Chip hung back, watching, waiting for the man she loved to look at her…give her any hint that he felt the same.

  Instead, he hobbled over to where the agents had Weston in custody.

  Weston looked up at Riley. “You can’t make any of these charges stick. You have no proof.” His words were thick and slurred through bloodied lips.

  Riley looked at the lead officer. “Has this man been read his rights?”

  “Yes sir, he has.”

  Stepping closer to Weston, he said, “We have all the proof we need. Lorraine told us everything.”

  “You’re lying. Lorraine would never talk—” Weston cut himself off, realizing he’d said too much.

  “Maybe the romance wasn’t that great after all.” Riley shrugged, then winced in pain at the movement.

  Weston lunged at him, but Riley was ready with a fist and caught the other man in the solar plexus before an agent could stop him.

  Another agent stepped in front of Riley. “That’s all you get, sir. Let us take him away.”

  Riley drilled Weston with a look that made Chip wonder how close he was to using his gun. Then he pulled back, holding his side. “Get this piece of trash out of my sight.”

  Weston was shoved into the backseat of a squad car and driven away.

  Riley stared for a moment at the retreating car, then headed toward his vehicle. He stopped and turned, gazing at Chip for a very long time.

  Her breath stalled, and she desperately tried to find a message in his eyes. He started toward her and she willed her feet to move, meeting him halfway.