Ricochet's Rogue (Agent of Mercy, Book Three)

by Miller, Robin Leigh

Hands gripped his thick arms and lifted him to his feet. The room swayed, swirled and tilted. His knees buckled.

  “Oh no ya don’t. The boss wants to have a word with ya.”

  The boss, who was the boss? Where was he? Fighting tooth and nail he searched his brain for any scrap of knowledge he could find.

  Veronica. The name repeated itself. Blinking several times to help focus his eyes, he looked around. A dirty, broken down barn, poorly lit. Veronica was here. That was it.

  As his captors dragged him toward the center of the barn he saw her. Bloody, bruised and as defiant as ever, she twisted and fought against her restraints. Her legs kicked wildly at the man trying to restrict her movement.

  When the man’s arm swung back to strike her, Ricochet lunged forward, falling over his own two feet and crashing to the ground. Laughter surrounded him.

  “Some rescue party you have here,” one taunted Veronica before giving a harsh kick to Ricochet’s ribs.

  What little air he held in his lungs whooshed out as he flopped forward onto his chest.

  “No, leave him alone,” Ronnie cried out.

  “Oh I don’t think so. Like you, he stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and he’ll die for it. No one,” Grear ranted, “interferes with my business.”

  Ricochet felt a hand on the top of his head, gripping the bare flesh and lifting until his face cleared the dirt. Once again cold steel met flesh.

  Chatter was going on in his ear, Boomer’s deep rich voice, Kong’s ever-steady, cool instructions and the panicked affirmatives of his young students. He opened his eyes, shifted them toward Veronica and winked, hoping it would calm her. He still had some fight left in him.

  “Get him outta here, now,” Ronnie’s hoarse, scratchy voice demanded of her teammates.

  Hell’s fury broke loose in a split second. Two loud explosions followed by a blinding white flash filled the open space. Ricochet flipped from his stomach to his back, striking out with his arm and knocking the gun away from his head.

  In the mass confusion, he heard Veronica scream followed by the report of a rifle. Adrenaline pumped wildly through his veins. The throbbing pain dulled in his head and body. Out of the chaos, a hand gripped his arm and a hard barrel pressed into his back.

  Without thought he spun, grabbed, twisted and snapped the bones in the hand holding him. Shrill screams of pain filled the air. Just to make sure there would be no more trouble from this man, he plowed his fist into his face and sneered as the unconscious man dropped to the dirt.

  Gunfire sounded all around him. Searching frantically through his bleary eyes he spotted Veronica. Even with her hands secured behind her back she placed strategic kicks at the men trying furiously to restrain her.

  Creeping up behind her was the man responsible for this nightmare and all the pain the woman he loved experienced. Recharged with unrelenting hatred he pinned his sight on him and charged forward like a bull. Veronica’s eyes widened as he bulldozed toward her.

  “Ricochet?” she questioned.

  No time to answer or even grunt a response. Keeping that bastard away from her was his only thought. His arms were heavy, uncontrollable, making it difficult to reach for the man. Instead, he barreled into his body, tossing him three feet back and landing him on his ass.

  Concerned only for her safety, he jerked his head to the side to tell Veronica to leave. The quick movement sloshed his brain from one side to the other. Dizziness overcame him, he staggered as his surroundings tilted and spun. Reaching out for her he collapsed to the ground.

  “Ricochet.”

  She sounded so far away and muffled.

  “Get the hell away from him, you son of a bitch.”

  He heard grunts, thuds and gasps followed by a few foul, choice names she chose for whoever she just put down.

  “Ricochet, you okay, buddy?”

  Was that Boomer? He opened his eyes for only a split second assuming the massive gray form was his friend.

  “Get ’er out.” Why was it so hard to form words?

  “We will. Just stay down.”

  He couldn’t move if he wanted to. Darkness was encircling him like a vulture, waiting to drag him away and end his torment. All the sounds in the room were drifting in and out of his head. One last time he opened his eyes. A form, more of a figure loomed above. Struggling to make it out he blinked several times fighting the nausea rolling in his gut. Slowly it began to take shape.

  Black, shoulder-length, wavy hair hung forward framing the face of a lovely older woman. Her skin seemed a shade darker than his. She was smiling at him and damn if it didn’t make him warm inside. Her light brown eyes watched him. He wanted to touch her, absorb more of that glorious warmth she gave off. The shimmering gold halo surrounding her led him to believe he was about ready to cross from this life onto the next.

  She must fight this battle on her own.

  He could hear speaking, but her mouth wasn’t moving.

  This is her chance to put the past behind her and move forward. Give her that chance.

  He didn’t understand. The pain in his head made it difficult to comprehend.

  Everything will be as it should.

  With those final words she reached out to him, laying her hand on the side of his face. Instantly, the pain subsided. He felt his body drift as if on a feather-soft cloud and let go knowing Boomer, Kong, Gunner and Dragon would see Veronica to safety.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Is he okay?” Veronica did her best to stay still as Boomer fought the bindings around her wrists. “Is he alive?” God, he looked so pale and his eyes were floating around inside his head.

  “I’m not sure, Ronnie. We have to get you outta here. Grear still has one goon who disappeared.”

  Boomer’s voice was thick with concern, only fueling her anxiety. As soon as her hands were free she darted toward Ricochet.

  “Ronnie, you can’t do anything for him now. Get your ass outside,” Boomer shouted.

  She heard him, but couldn’t obey. Not this time. With eyes and attention focused on Ricochet, she didn’t hear Boomer’s warning.

  With a jerk she was snatched mid-stride and dragged away from her intended goal. Her eyes never left Ricochet as she fought, slapped and punched her captor. When it finally registered that she was once again in the hands of Grear, she growled her frustration. Fear and panic were gone replaced by anger and frustration.

  “Let go of me, you piece of…”

  “Shut up. Shut the hell up.” He placed the barrel of his gun to her temple. “Stop, now.” His voice carried throughout the chaos.

  “Let her go, Grear, its over and you know it.”

  Veronica watched Kong level his rifle and aim at Grear as he spoke. His eyes were hard, his hands steady and his resolve steel. A few feet away was Boomer, crouched on the ground, his handgun aimed at Grear’s head, he too was as solid as a rock. She couldn’t see Dragon and Gunner and assumed they were outside the building.

  With one last glance at Ricochet’s lifeless body in the dirt, she took her cue from Kong and Boomer and reached deep inside. Pushing the fear aside, she let her anger fill her. Cold, ruthless hatred for the man threatening her life stilled the quivering nerves.

  “Let her go, Grear.”

  Kong’s voice barely registered.

  “Shut up. I’m in charge here,” Grear ordered them.

  With her body calm and still she could feel his trembling. The hand holding the gun to her head quaked. He was as scared as hell and capable of anything. No doubt her life would end here today but if it meant taking down the man who took the two people she loved from her, so be it.

  “You are going to let me walk out of here.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Kong responded coolly.

  “It is or I will put a bullet in this bitch’s head.” To emphasize his point he jammed the barrel against her scalp.

  Veronica didn’t flinch, she simply connected her gaze with Kong’s and held it, hoping he would understand
when she was ready to make her move.

  “Put a bullet in her and we put thirty in you. Either way it’s over for you. Your only way out is to give up.”

  “You can’t kill me. Don’t you know who I am?” Grear tried to pull off a laugh, but it was unsuccessful.

  “I know exactly who you are. Leader of a white supremacy group, killer of an innocent woman, attacker of young girls. Yeah, I know who you are and you make me sick.”

  She would have laughed at the disgust in Kong’s voice, or the sharp intake of breath from Grear as the insult registered but she was busy formulating her move.

  “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. You won’t end that for me. I won’t allow it. Do you hear me? I won’t allow it. No one stands in my way.”

  Hysteria filled his voice. Even to his own ears he had to sound like a psycho, she thought. The hand holding her arm jerked and then tightened. Veins under her skin filled and pulsed as the blood tried to pass the barrier. The constant steady thump gave her something to focus on, to count off to.

  “I’ve got a perfect shot to the back of his head,” Gunner whispered through the radio.

  No. She had to be the one to take him down. No one else. Her. It was her right. After all the hell and torture this bastard had put her through she would be the one to end his miserable, worthless life.

  “On my mark,” Boomer instructed with a soft, barely audible voice.

  “I will make this country great again. I will create a better life for all my people.” Grear bellowed.

  Veronica slid her gaze to Boomer and focused on his mouth. She’d have to move before he had the chance to give the word to take him down.

  “Nah, see, your world ain’t the kind I want to live in. And frankly, neither does anyone else. You drop that gun so we can get you a nice cozy padded room where you can rant and rave all you want and no one has to hear you,” Kong sounded almost disinterested.

  “You think I’m insane?”

  “Nope, I know you are. One last chance,” Kong warned him.

  Veronica narrowed her sight in on Boomer. All she saw were his lips, firm and still. Grear took half a step back, Boomer began to part his lips and Kong tensed. The pulse in her arm thumped hard as she counted. Five, four…

  A hazy mist settled between Kong and Boomer, taking on the form of a tall woman. Gold rays emanated from around it. In a split second she saw the eyes. Eyes she didn’t think she’d ever see again. The loving warmth and acceptance gave her the strength she needed. I’m sorry, Mama, I have to end this.

  Veronica dropped to her knees, startling Grear. He released his grip around her arm freeing her to pivot around, drive her fist into his stomach and knock the gun to the ground. Grear doubled over, gasping for breath. Shouts from Boomer and Kong fell on her deaf ears. There was only one way for this to end.

  Grabbing him by the hair she stood, lifting him with her as he whimpered. Taking three steps to the side so Gunner lost his shot and placing her body between him and her teammates, she slapped her palms on each side of his head.

  “You look into my eyes. My eyes are going to be the last thing you see before you go to hell,” she hissed. “Burn for eternity knowing that it was me who sent you there.”

  Out of nowhere a sharp, piercing pain burned through her abdomen. She looked down to see her blood spilling over Grear’s hand and the pearl handle of a knife. Using that pain, she looked back into his eyes, smiled and twisted his head with a jerk until she heard the snap. His body shuddered once before slumping and falling from her grip to the ground.

  In slow motion she turned, Kong was shouting something, Boomer crept forward his gun still aimed on Grear. The noise of the room droned in her ears. She looked down at the knife protruding from her stomach, wrapped her hand around the bloody hilt and pulled.

  “Oh God, Ronnie.” Kong looked at the blood on her hands, the knife and blossoming crimson on her shirt. “Boomer, ambulance, now.”

  Kong tried to drag her to the ground to render first aid. She pushed him away wanting nothing more than to lie with Ricochet. Dragging her feet through the dirt, she made her way to the only man who had ever declared his love for her. Now he lay dead because of her.

  He’ll take good care of you, baby. He’ll give you the life you deserve.

  Veronica looked up to find a ball of gold light hovering over his body.

  “He’s dead,” she whispered.

  No honey, he’s not.

  She looked back down at his body, laid her hand on his chest and felt the gentle rise and fall as he took a breath. Swamped with relief, tears built behind her eyes until she could no longer contain them.

  “He’s alive,” she screamed before falling forward across him and sobbing.

  Boomer’s gentle voice caressed her ear as his warm hand lay across her back. “It’s going to be okay, Ronnie. We’ll get you both to a hospital, but you have to let me see your wound.”

  “He’s alive,” she repeated sitting up.

  “That’s good. Can’t tell you how happy that makes me, but we need to tend to both of you now.” With patience, he urged her away from him.

  Kong moved in to check Ricochet as Boomer settled her back to the ground to get a better look at her wound.

  “Hey Rogue, how ya doin’?” Dragon asked kneeling down beside her.

  “I’m fine. It was only a pocket knife.” The words slipped through her chattering teeth. Her body shivered uncontrollably.

  “She’s going to into shock.”

  Her gaze drifted over to Gunner, who was looking down at her with concern in his eyes. She did her best to smile at him, but failed miserably. Everything was like a dream. Her friends’ movements were slow, their words drawn out.

  “Gunner, hold this tight, keep the pressure on. I’m gonna go see about Ricochet.”

  “Got it.”

  “I knew you guys were there,” she stammered as Gunner pressed against her stomach. “I knew you were with me.”

  “You did good, Ronnie,” Dragon soothed holding her hand.

  “I had to stop him. I had to make sure he didn’t go free, he had to be stopped.” With her free hand she reached up and grasped a hold of Gunner’s shirt. The need for them to understand was overwhelming. She didn’t want them to hate her.

  “Ronnie, it’s okay. You don’t have to convince us,” Gunner tenderly pulled her hand free and held it.

  “I thought Ricochet was dead. I thought they killed him. I didn’t care anymore.”

  “How’s she doing?” Kong asked crouching with them.

  “She’s rambling and shaking like a leaf,” Gunner responded.

  Ignoring the pain in her abdomen she sat up and gripped Kong’s shirt. “He’s alive, Kong. She told me he was alive. I thought he was dead but he’s not.”

  “No, Ricochet’s alive. Gonna have one hell of a headache, but he’s alive. Who told you he was alive?”

  “My mother, she was right there with him, with us. She told me.”

  Gunner and Dragon exchanged pitiful looks. Kong held understanding in his eyes, smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Her body was losing control, bouncing and shaking violently.

  “No. I believe those we lose are with us all the time. We just have to open ourselves up to it. Ricochet’s gonna be okay, I promise. Now lie back down and try to relax. We have help coming.”

  “I’m going to jail for killing Grear. He tried to kill me but I stopped him. They won’t believe me. Ricochet will be hurt. Don’t let them hurt him.” Oh God, things were getting jumbled in her head. She couldn’t think straight. What was wrong with her?

  “You don’t need to worry about anything. Just try to calm down.”

  Only half his words registered in her brain. She thought she heard the thwap thwap of helicopter blades and voices outside the building. She looked to her teammates, saw their mouths moving but couldn’t hear their words.

  “Ronnie, t
hey’re gonna put you in the ambulance.”

  Suddenly the dirty barn was teaming with people. Men in black suits talking on phones, Kong shouting at someone while Boomer stood shaking his head like he was disgusted. Dragon and Gunner were dragged away from her, fighting as burly men pushed them out the door.

  “Get this area cleared out,” she heard someone command.

  So the government was taking over. She shouldn’t be surprised. They’d probably all disappear now, couldn’t have anyone around to leak a story like this. She was helpless to fight when two men lifted her off the ground, tossed her on what she thought was gurney and wheeled her out into the darkness.

  “Where are you taking her? Hey, what the fuck’s going on?”

  She lifted her head slightly to see Dragon rushing toward her, only to be stopped by a gun to the face. Resigned to her fate, she sunk back onto the hard surface of the cart, closed her eyes and let herself drift away.

  “You’d better get Cannon on the phone. This is way outta hand, man.”

  Kong was already dialing. “Go make sure they don’t cart Ricochet off. Shoot if ya have to but they don’t get another one of our team.”

  “Copy that,” Boomer grinned.

  “We couldn’t stop them, Kong. They shoved her in a van and took off,” Gunner reported, seething with anger that he couldn’t stop them.

  “Get over there and help Boomer. They don’t get their hands on him too.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Cannon, we got trouble. I don’t know if it’s the secret service, feds or some Gestapo running this show but they just abducted Ronnie and now they’re trying to gather the rest of us up. You better make some of those calls you’re so good at making before one of us buys it with a bullet.”

  “Hang tight. Fight tooth and nail, but don’t leave the premises. I’m on my way.”

  “No. I don’t think that’s such a good idea. We’ll need someone on the outside fighting for us if this goes sour.”

  Silence filled the line briefly. “Okay, you’re right. Just don’t leave that area.”

  The line went dead just as three suited men approached. Two held guns on him while the third stared with cold, emotionless eyes. Two can play this game he thought, leveling his gaze at the man.