by Donna Grant
He climbed the fence and threw one leg over the top rail. Then he sat and pulled his other leg over. When he jumped to the ground, Callie didn’t even stir.
A bat flew over his head chasing mosquitos, while an owl hooted nearby. Every once in a while, he’d look behind him. He knew the Saints were out there, because it was exactly where he’d be.
With the vast area of the ranch, anyone with half a brain would expect the Loughmans to return by any means other than the main entrance. And the Saints weren’t stupid. The leaders knew exactly what to do.
The same leaders he’d worked for his entire military career.
He reached another fence and crossed it. The hilly landscape aided in his bid to stay hidden. As did the night. The cloudy sky kept the half-moon hidden for long stretches at a time.
When the creatures of the night suddenly cut off their music, he knew danger was near. The sound of the retort reached him a second before the bullet slammed into his back near his shoulder, sending him pitching forward.
He turned as he fell to keep from landing on Callie. She rolled out of his arms when he hit the ground. Pain radiated out from the wound, making it hard for him to lift his right arm. He gritted his teeth through the pain and turned, raising the rifle.
Wyatt fired off one shot at the approaching attacker, stopping him dead in his tracks. Wyatt then rolled forward and came up on one knee, swinging the gun to the left where he’d heard gunfire.
The bullet landed in the dirt inches from Callie, right where he’d been. Wyatt quickly squeezed off two rounds, striking the man in the chest.
He felt blood, thick and warm, run down his back. His shoulder was on fire. The more he used the arm, the more the blood gushed. When the fingers of his right hand stopped responding, he switched the rifle to his left shoulder and took out another figure running toward him.
Then he was tackled from the side. His attacker kicked his rifle out of his hand while fingers dug into Wyatt’s wound, pushing against the ripped flesh.
He bellowed his fury and punched the man in the face with his left fist. His attacker’s hold loosened enough that Wyatt was able to knock him off. He rose up over the man and lifted his right arm, but the pain stopped him from delivering another hit.
That gave his foe time to get his hands around Wyatt’s throat. With his good arm, he pushed against the man’s face while he grabbed for the handle of his knife with his right.
But his fingers wouldn’t obey his command. Wyatt looked over at Callie to see someone fast approaching. He fought harder against his attacker, frustration making him roar his fury.
Then—finally!—his fingers grasped the hilt of his blade. He launched it at the man coming for Callie, impaling him. Wyatt’s attacker doubled his effort to choke him. With his air being cut off, Wyatt hit his foe with his injured arm and then immediately with his other.
In the few seconds that gave him, Wyatt grabbed for the pistol strapped to his leg. He brought it up to his attacker’s head, but the man knocked his arm away, sending the shot into the air.
Dark spots appeared at the edges of Wyatt’s vision. He bashed the barrel of the gun against his foe’s temple twice. As soon as the man’s fingers loosened, Wyatt drew in several gulps of air.
He sat up and turned the gun on the man and got off a shot. The Saint grunted as he climbed to his feet. Wyatt tried to do the same, but he was a second too slow, giving his attacker time to knee him in the chin.
The impact dazed Wyatt for a second as he fell backward to the ground. He turned the gun to the man, firing three shots, two of which hit his foe in the chest.
The Saint kicked the gun out of Wyatt’s hand. They were wearing body armor. The sound of other weapons firing warned Wyatt that there were more Saints on the way. He hoped none of the bullets had hit Callie, but he didn’t have time to look.
As he fought the Saint from his back, Wyatt managed to roll the man over and get off several good hits. When his foe reached for his gun, Wyatt hastily knocked it out of his hand and punched him in the throat.
While the Saint gagged and struggled to breathe, Wyatt dove for the pistol. He jerked around when a gun fired.
The Saint kneeled over him with a knife in his hand before he pitched forward, dead from a bullet to his neck. Wyatt looked past him to find Callie on her side with her gun in hand. Her head dropped to the ground as her eyes closed. He crawled to her, grabbing weapons as he did, but she was already unconscious again.
It was the quiet that alerted Wyatt. He reached for his rifle and spun around to see a lone man walking toward him with arms raised.
“Stop,” Wyatt demanded.
“I’d rather not.”
Wyatt frowned, recognizing the voice. He stood. “Maks?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing here?” Wyatt asked as Maks approached.
Maks shrugged one shoulder and adjusted his rifle. “I was in the area.”
“Bullshit.”
“I knew the Saints would be waiting for you, just as I knew that you or your brothers would return.”
Wyatt snorted as he turned back to Callie. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine,” Wyatt said and knelt beside Callie. He hid his wince as he picked her up and stood. Then he began walking as Maks fell into step beside him. “How long have you been here?”
“Ever since I left Virginia.”
“I suppose you scouted the entire ranch?”
Maks nodded. “Those were the only Saints watching tonight. More will come at noon to relieve them.”
“Then we need to be here to kill them.”
“After you see to that wound,” Maks stated. “What happened to her?”
Wyatt gazed down at Callie, wishing her blue eyes were looking back at him. “The Saints.”
“The fact that both of you are still alive attests to your skills. The Saints only recruit the best.”
“Are you saying they came for you?”
Maks smiled as he cut Wyatt a look. “They might have shown interest, and I might’ve taken an undercover job in Russia.”
“The Saints are there, too.”
“I let them know I wasn’t interested.”
“This was while you were on my team?”
Maks glanced at him and nodded. “I wanted no part of them.”
Wyatt glanced sideways at him. “You could be lying.”
“I could be, but if I was, I’d have already killed you.”
When they reached a fence, Wyatt let Maks go over first before handing him Callie. Once Wyatt jumped over, he reached for Callie.
“Let me carry her awhile,” Maks said.
Wyatt shook his head. “I’ve got her.”
They repeated the process another six times until the lights from the house came into view. Wyatt actually felt joy at seeing it.
How Callie would love to rub that in his face. All those years of refusing to return home, and now it was the only place he wanted to be.
Wyatt led the way through the gates to the barn that had the base beneath it. The back of the building was open. A moment later, Owen came striding out.
His smile faded when he saw Wyatt carrying Callie. He ran to Wyatt and tried to take her, but Wyatt kept walking. He saw Owen and Maks exchange a look.
“Maks, meet my middle brother, Owen,” Wyatt said. “Owen, Maks.”
The two shook hands as they walked inside the barn to the stairs that led to the base.
“You’re the same Maks who helped Cullen and Mia,” Owen said. “Thank you for that.”
“Just doing my job,” Maks replied.
Wyatt hid his pain as he maneuvered down the narrow steps with Callie. Natalie was standing near the back entrance to the bunks. Her face fell when she saw Callie.
“I’ll get the supplies,” Owen said and hurried off.
Wyatt knelt next to a bunk and set Callie down. He lifted her shirt to exam the wound and saw fresh blood s
taining the white bandages.
Wyatt dropped his forehead onto Callie’s hip. Blood trickled down his arm to his fingers to drip onto the floor. He lifted his head to Natalie and said, “She needs fluids.”
“There’s so much blood,” Natalie said. “I thought her wounds were stitched.”
Owen stopped beside him. “That blood isn’t Callie’s. It’s Wyatt’s.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Andrew Smith held the cell phone to his ear, waiting for an answer as he stood outside the room where Konrad Jankovic currently worked.
“Well?” he asked impatiently.
There was a pause before one of his subordinates replied, “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t reach anyone we have watching the Loughman Ranch.”
“Send out another team immediately,” he ordered.
“Sir?”
“One of the Loughmans has returned and killed everyone, you idiot,” Andrew stated before ending the call.
He spun to look at the closed door to what was once the kitchen. Everything Jankovic needed to make another batch of Ragnarok had been brought in days ago, but the scientist was dragging his feet.
Andrew busted through the door to find Konrad standing by the kitchen sink, staring out the window. “What are you doing?”
“I want to walk outside,” Jankovic said in his thick Russian accent.
“That’s not going to happen until you make the bioweapon. It was our agreement before we helped you defect.”
Konrad looked at him with his green eyes and shrugged. “I have changed my mind. We need to renegotiate, yes?”
“No.”
The scientist turned to face him, leaning back against the sink. “You need what I have in my brain. I do not think you will fight me on what I want.”
Andrew took a deep breath and slowly released it as he put his cell phone in his front pant’s pocket and walked toward Jankovic. “While it’s true we’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to acquire your … skills, don’t mistake thinking you have control.”
He didn’t stop until he was a foot away from the Russian. “I have the control. Me. It’ll be quicker for you to make the bioweapon of your own accord, and you’ll be richer—and freer—because of it. But … if you make me hurt you, you’ll be working with only one arm. I’ll take away the money promised as well as your freedom.”
“Y-y-you cannot do that.”
“Try me,” Andrew dared him.
Jankovic visibly swallowed before he scooted to the side and hurried to the island where all his equipment was set up. Andrew watched him until he was sure the scientist was actually working.
He walked from the kitchen and motioned one of the guards to him. “I want someone with him while he’s working, and I want him working every day from now on. Limited breaks. An hour for meals.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said and pointed to two men who strode into the kitchen.
At least Andrew didn’t have to worry about the house being discovered. With his organization keeping the Loughmans on the run, they were more concerned about their own lives than anyone else’s.
Too bad that would be their downfall.
Andrew checked the time, realizing that he was going to be late for his dinner reservation. He took out his cell to call and cancel. He was nearly to the door when the sound of breaking glass sounded on all four sides of the house. Spinning around, he raced toward the kitchen and Jankovic as gunfire erupted.
He slammed open the door and slid to a halt when he saw Orrin Loughman standing over Jankovic who had a single bullet wound to the center of his head. Andrew had but a second to duck out of the room as the eldest Loughman opened fire.
There were shouts, screams of pain, and gunfire all around him. Andrew plastered himself against the wall outside the kitchen. He drew his gun and turned to shoot into the room. When there was no return fire, he peeked around the corner, but Orrin was gone.
Andrew straightened and walked into the kitchen to stare at the dead bodies of his men and Jankovic. Had he remained a moment longer, he’d likely be dead with the others. How had Orrin found him? And though Andrew guessed it was Yuri with Loughman, who else had joined them?
“Sir?” came a voice behind him.
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes?”
“We lost seven men.”
“Make that nine,” Andrew said as he opened his eyes and turned to the guard. “How did they get in?”
The guard shook his head. “I don’t know yet, but I’m going to look into it. Shall we go after them?”
“They’re already gone. Get this mess cleaned up.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andrew stalked out of the house. Once outside in the night, he walked to the street and looked up and down it. “I know you’re out there, Orrin. You miserable son of a bitch. I should’ve put you down a long time ago. You’ve been nothing but trouble for me.”
* * *
Orrin stood hidden behind the Suburban as he stared at the man in the black trench coat across the street. Whoever he was, he knew Orrin. The flare of recognition in his eyes in the kitchen had been obvious.
What wasn’t obvious was how? Did the man know him because the Saints were after him? Or was it something from Orrin’s past? If only Orrin could place him, he might have some answers. There was a memory there, just out of reach that might answer so many questions.
“Dad.”
He held up his hand, telling Cullen to wait. Orrin remained until the man turned and got into a car that drove off. Only then did Orrin face the others.
Yuri was smiling as he held his left arm that had been shot. “We did it.”
Mia grinned at all of them. “Damn, but that felt good. It was time we put a hurt on the Saints. I want to do it again.”
“Slow down there,” Cullen said as he gave her a quick kiss.
Orrin started walking to Cullen’s SUV that was parked down the street. “We got lucky. They weren’t expecting us. We won’t get that chance again.”
“But we killed Jankovic,” Yuri said.
“That’s a win for sure.” One Orrin knew they desperately needed.
Cullen stepped in front of Orrin, halting everyone. “One thing you haven’t told us is what Ragnarok does.”
Yuri looked to the ground, but Orrin met his son’s gaze. “Once released into the air, it will sterilize women.”
“Are you telling me that I’d never be able to have children?” Mia asked, her face slack with shock.
Orrin nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“How far of a reach does the weapon have?” Cullen asked.
Yuri swallowed and looked up at Cullen. “I never discovered, but I do know the Saints planned to release Ragnarok over certain areas, so it must be contained to a particular vicinity.”
Orrin saw the impact the news had on Cullen and Mia. It was obvious the two were in love, which pleased him greatly. The pair was perfect for each other, and their love would only strengthen them.
Two of his sons had found love. Now, if only Wyatt could give in to his feelings for Callie.
“After this, the Saints will come for us with all they have,” Orrin said. “Not only do we have Jankovic’s formula, but we have Ragnarok. The Saints want this badly in order to cut down the Earth’s population and take over.”
Mia made a noise in the back of her throat. “For what?”
“Food? Climate? Money? Who knows?” Orrin said. “It doesn’t matter why. It just matters that we stop them.”
Yuri slapped Orrin on the back with his meaty hand. “I will not rest until the Saints are stopped.”
Cullen looked at Mia before he said, “Count us in. They started all of this.”
“So, let’s finish it,” Mia added.
Yuri asked, “What is next?”
“Hewett,” Orrin stated.
Cullen nodded in agreement. “I’ll be happy to get information out of him.”
The buzz of a phone drew everyone’s att
ention. Yuri pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and frowned when he looked at the number. “Da?” he answered.
Orrin watched as Yuri’s face went slack and his gaze darted straight to him. Orrin knew then that something had happened to either Owen or Wyatt.
“Spasibo, thank you,” Yuri said before ending the call.
Orrin squared his shoulders. “Just spit it out.”
“That was Maks,” Yuri said. He looked at Cullen and Mia. “He is the one who remained behind at the warehouse to help you two.”
“Yuri,” Orrin urged.
His old friend swung his blue gaze back to him. “It seems Wyatt and Callie decided to return to the ranch. On the way, some Saints stumbled across them. Callie was shot twice, but Wyatt patched her up.”
“Thank God,” Mia said.
Orrin waited because he knew Yuri hadn’t finished yet.
Yuri wiped his good hand down his face. “When the two reached your ranch, more Saints were waiting.”
“Is my brother alive?” Cullen demanded.
“He was shot in the back of the shoulder and lost a lot of blood, but he is,” Yuri replied.
Orrin dropped his chin to his chest. “How bad is the injury?”
“Maks said Owen is tending to it now.”
Cullen asked, “What was Maks doing there?”
Yuri shrugged and said, “You would have to ask him.”
“Oh, we will,” Mia stated.
Orrin lifted his head and continued walking to the SUV. His mind was stuck on a loop of knowing that both Callie and Wyatt were injured. It wasn’t the first time Wyatt had been wounded, but this was the first time Orrin knew immediately after it had happened.
At least his son was somewhere with others to help care for him. And Callie.
The Saints would know by now that two Loughmans were at the ranch. How long before they attacked? Whatever time they had, it wasn’t nearly enough.
“What are you thinking?” Cullen asked as he came up beside him.
Orrin glanced his way. “That we should return home.”
