Renner (In the Company of Snipers Book 19)

by Irish Winters

  “Don’t make me kill you in front of your woman,” he told Renner. “Look around. We have the upper hand, not you. Us. Now, be a smart guy. Hand it over.”

  “Like hell,” Renner promised even as he scanned the men at Tom’s back and all those barrels now aimed at him. “I didn’t come all this way to go home empty-handed. Back the fuck off or die first. Your call.”

  Tom leaned forward. “Then do it. Shoot me. You can’t kill us.”

  “Us?” Renner asked, finally understanding what was happening. These men had all been brainwashed in the most heinous ways. Plus, they were back tonight where it had all started. Where their worst defilement had happened. “What happened to Tom? Just you? Just Tom, the pissed-off man who wanted to kill Catalina Montego with his bare hands?”

  Tom’s men all chortled behind him, but it sounded more like they were choking instead of laughing.

  Something was wrong with this crazy picture. Okay, a helluva lot was wrong here. They were in a dungeon after all, but Renner had one of his gut feelings. He forced a swallow, then tipped the muzzle of his pistol back onto Montego.

  “You first,” he told her. “Let Tara go or you die first. Trust me, these men at my back are all good guys. They don’t listen to you anymore.”

  “No!” Tom bellowed. “We can’t—”

  “You see that’s where you are wrong,” Renner said as calmly as he could, his eye still on his target. “Maybe we can’t, but you can. There is no us or we anymore, Tom. There is only you and each of your individual men. There is only me and my woman and that poor guy over there who Montego planned to turn into pulp. There’s only that big bastard of hers who’s too chickenshit to fight like a man. And then there’s the bitch who cut off your balls and probably fed them to you, who probably laughed while she did it, am I right? There is just Montego. She’s nothing special, look at her. God, she’s an ugly bitch up close, isn’t she? But she’s just her, Tom. And you’re still you. What. Do. You. Do?”

  “Simple. I k-k-kill you before you h-h-hurt her.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Tom didn’t sound so sure.

  “Why?” Renner asked, still keeping it civil. Still keeping his cool. Still watching wide-eyed Tom, who had suddenly turned into Montego’s mindless drone, out of the corner of his eye.

  “Shoot him,” she ordered, her command short and sharp. “Kill him now! Then I’ll let you play! All of you!”

  Whatever that meant.

  Tom took a step toward Renner, his weapon on target, the index finger of his only working hand on the trigger.

  “You’re going to let her do it to you again, aren’t you?” Renner goaded, more certain than ever that these tortured men had somehow fallen into Montego’s power just by being back here. Where she’d forced them to watch each other’s bloody humiliation. “Are you going to let her have your balls again, Tom? Oh, wait. She’s already got them. What are you going to let her have next? The rest of your arm? Your other leg? She’s already got your manhood. Jesus, why don’t you just bend over and let her give it to you again? She’s more man than you guys ever were.”

  Tom growled, but he didn’t fire. The guys behind him seemed spellbound. Frozen.

  “You, Tom. Just you. Just each one of your men, the guys I know damned well you would die for,” Renner said even as he swallowed what might be his final breath. “This is about you and what you decide to do next. There is no ‘us’. There is no ‘we’. There never was, buddy. Montego used you before, man. She used your brotherhood and your manhood against you.”

  He licked his lips, hoping something he said was getting through to Tom and his guys. “But tonight, you can each start fresh. You can be men again. She can’t make any of you do what you don’t want to do. Not anymore. Not ever again. Understood? Catalina Montego’s hold on you is over. Finished. You came here with me tonight to save my woman, didn’t you? Didn’t all your men trust you to save Tara? Isn’t that why you guys are here? Isn’t that what each of you want? What you need? To do what’s right and be men again?”

  Lurch growled from somewhere behind Renner, but Renner relied on Tara’s perfect, sweet face and the love shining in her true blue eyes to keep him alive. She’d warn him if he had anything to worry about at his six. Renner knew it then. He trusted her with his life.

  And just that fast, his heart settled into a steady beat. He knew what he had to do. For Tara and for each of the tortured men pointing their weapons at him. For Aaron. For Kelsey’s guys. And for Alex, the primary target of Montego’s cruelty. He had to end Montego. It was the only way to break her spell.

  “You can’t have my buddy Tom,” he told her with steel in his voice. “Alex Stewart sent one of his best into Cuba to end your asswipe brother, but he only sent me to end you. Sorry, but you’re gonna have to settle for second best, because you’re not worth shit.”

  His index finger settled against the grooves notched in his pistol’s trigger. He drew a bead on the evil woman staring back at him and—

  Her chin came up. “You’re wrong. I own every last one of these bastards’ worthless souls. I made these pigs who they are, and they are loyal! Do you hear me? Loyal!” Her chin lifted higher even as she glared down at the men she’d tortured into servitude. “Look at them. They’re nothing but a sniveling, whining pack of cowards ready to do my will. My will, not yours!”

  “See that’s where you went wrong,” Renner replied smoothly. Calmly. “They didn’t come here tonight to do my will. I never forced them, all I had to do was ask. They’re free men, Montego. They always were. Tom and his army came because they wanted to help. They came because they don’t believe in you anymore. They’re free and they’re proud. They’re American soldiers.”

  “Ah—” Tom started to speak.

  “Shut up!” Montego spat, her eyes gone an interesting shade of pitch black, the pupils now expanded, filling her stare with pure evil. Her upper lip twitched, an interesting touch of total insanity. “Know your place, you freak! Kill this worthless excuse of a man before I do. Or would you rather another hot bath?”

  “No,” Tom said, so quietly that Renner thought he hadn’t heard correctly.

  “Do it!” she shrieked, dark, ugly veins popping across her forehead. “I said kill him!”

  And Tom said, “No,” again. Louder. Clearer. He lowered his pistol to his side.

  Renner allowed a small breath of relief, his weapon still on Montego—

  Until Tara yelled, “Renner! Watch out! No, don’t!”

  He expected a bullet in the back of his head, but ended up with a bear hug around his arms and chest as Lurch lifted him off his feet and set him aside like he was a kid.

  At the same time, Tom roared, “Kill the bitch, boys!”

  Tom and his men ran Montego down. Lurch joined in the mob, running with them.

  The shock on her arrogant face before she turned tail and ran was priceless. But holy shit! These guys were pissed. Renner ducked as Tom’s ragged army raced past him to the woman who’d tortured the life out of them.

  “Stop!” she commanded when they cornered her at Tara’s left, right near the steaming vat she had no doubt planned to use on Tara. “You will do as I say or—”

  Smack! Tom’s prosthetic hand dealt a hard slap that knocked her head to the side. He ripped her rubber skull cap off. Then his eye patch.

  “Or what? You’ll slice out my eye again?” he taunted as his men closed in around her. Circled her like the pack of wolves she’d turned them into. Each willing to bite off his own appendage or limb to save his brothers. But never to save himself. She’d done that. She’d used their brotherhood to destroy their souls, only now... they’d finally remembered who and what they were.

  “You’ll die for that,” she hissed. “All of you. I’ll cut you so—”

  Smack! Tom hit her again. This time he ripped her coverall down the middle, the snaps torn and scattered to the floor and her cleavage on dis
play.

  She still came up with fire in her eyes, wiping the back of her hand over her bleeding lip. The same hand that had, only months ago, cold-bloodedly snipped Beau’s little finger off, put it in a bag, and sent it to Alex. The same hand that had sent men screaming to their deaths in her chipper.

  And it was time to move. Renner ran to Tara and had her off the cross in no time. She clung to him as he lifted her into his arms and removed them from the center of that shitstorm to the opposite side of the room near the door. Only then did he put her on her feet.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing her bloody toes. “She didn’t hurt you too much, did she? Can you walk?”

  She nodded, her gaze still fastened to the scene across the room.

  “Hey, don’t look. See me. Just me,” Renner said as he lifted Tara’s fingers to his lips, counting each of them, needing to make sure she was whole, and that the blood pooled under that treacherous cross wasn’t hers. Not a drop of it. Thank God. He’d never been so happy for ten fingers and ten toes as he was right now. He pulled a couple bandages up from his jeans pocket and knelt, wrapping her tiny, bloody toe. Tears flooded his eyes again. Damn Montego for hurting her.

  “I’m fine, Renner,” Tara breathed, her fingertips trembling on his shoulders. “Now that you’re here, but…”

  Lifting to his feet, he peered down into tearful eyes, loving this brave woman with every beat of his warrior’s heart. “What, baby? What do you need? What can I do for you?”

  “Please save Tony,” she cried, pointing at the poor kid still trussed up across the room. “He needs a medic. He’s dying.”

  “Oh, shit, yeah,” Renner exclaimed as he dodged Tom’s men, pulled the knife out of his boot, and freed Tony’s emaciated body from the plank. Speaking into the mic pinned to his jacket collar, he sent Mark a terse mayday. “Need EMTs at this location. STAT.” He provided the location as well as GPS coordinates, then buzzed Ben, Kelsey’s pilot, with an update, and told him to ready the chopper. They had a hero to save.

  “Let’s go,” he told Tara as together, they carried Tony out of Montego’s killing room. They’d barely cleared the door, when Seth, Beckam, and Aaron appeared in the hall, all three men bloodied.

  “Ran into those other missing men,” Seth said, his face ashen as he took Tony out of Renner’s grip and pulled him into his chest. “One guy’s dead—”

  “Shy,” Tara whispered. “I was with him when he died.”

  “Are you guys hurt?” Renner asked, needing first things first.

  “Yeah, well…” Beckam cleared his throat. “No. The blood’s not ours. It was, umm, Shy’s. He was in bad shape. You should see these guys, Renner. That bitch hacked them up pretty bad. Already called for back-up. Ben’s on his way in to assist until they get here. Guess he used to be a PJ.”

  PJs were Air Force pararescue specialists known for their expert battlefield care of trauma victims as well as combat search and rescue. They were the medical heroes behind every firefight and every battle, behind every serviceman and woman who made it home alive.

  “Looks like this kid needs Ben, too,” Seth said as he looked down at the guy Tara knew as Tony in his arms. “Where is she? Did you end her?”

  A blood-curdling scream echoed up the hall from those double doors.

  Tara stopped cold, her eyes wide. “They’ll kill her,” she said quietly.

  More screaming. More bellowing.

  “I sure as hell hope so,” Beckam declared without an ounce of sympathy.

  Renner met her question with a frank stare. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, ready and willing to listen and obey—this woman and this woman only. For the rest of his life. All Tara had to do was ask.

  Another scream, this one more terrified. More frantic. More human...

  Seth grunted, a male sound of satisfaction, not concern.

  Beckam stood silent, not shifting his boots, but not a hint of doubt on his face that Montego was finally getting all she deserved. And Renner knew what he had to do.

  “Wait here,” he told his guys as he handed Tara over to Beckam for safe keeping. “I’ll be right back.”

  And back into chaos he went.

  My God, what a horrific scene. Renner closed the doors behind him. Tara didn’t need to hear or see what was happening to the witch who’d planned on torturing her and filming it like the sick fuck Montego was.

  Tom’s men were no longer men. They were wild animals, growling and cursing each other, hissing over who got to keep which trophy, which lip, which finger. The body parts of the evil woman once known as Catalina Montego now lay strewn in a circle of feral beasts, all of them covered in her blood. Even Lurch, her one-time slave, held what was left of a hand.

  Fighting the bile creeping up his throat, Renner recognized the stink lifting up from the carnage. The mix of body parts, blood, and bowels. But he also recognized Karma when he saw her at work. Catalina Montego had murdered innocent men in the most heinous manners, and she’d done it for months. She’d tortured them for her sadistic pleasure. She’d earned this, her just reward. But it had to end.

  Lifting his pistol to the closest ceiling vent where a round couldn’t ricochet, he fired one shot and bellowed over the report, “Enough!”

  Like a scene out of a bad sci-fi flick, the men stopped in their tracks. All on their hands or knees, they glared at him as if he were the freak in the room. As if he had his nerve disturbing them. Until slowly, finally, intelligent awareness flickered back to life in the blank pits of their wild eyes. Tom lifted his head from where he knelt over what was left of Montego’s torso. His lip snarled, but there was recognition in his eyes. No hostility. No challenge. Shit, he was holding her head.

  “It’s over,” Renner told Tom and his men. “You guys need to think about what you’ve done here. The police will be waiting outside for you. You can either leave here with pride and give yourselves up, or you can go out like the pigs Montego trained you to be. You can end up dead like she is, or you can start over. But each of you has to let the past go. Now. Here. You’ve completed your mission. You saved lives tonight. I’ve got my woman back and my guys found the other missing men. It’s finished.”

  Tom gave him a chin nod. “Aye,” he replied, wiping the blood off his chin. “That it is.”

  “Meet you outside,” Renner said before he left them to whatever they thought they needed to do next. When he closed the door behind him, he found Tara waiting. God, she was a sight for sore eyes.

  “I heard a shot. Are you okay?”

  He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair, thankful she hadn’t seen what he had. Breathing her into the shadowy memories stuck in his mind. Needing her light and her love. Her heart. “I am now.”

  She looked up at him, sad and tired, yet glowing. And then, like she had once before, she curled her shivering body into him and said, “Take me home. Please. Take me home.”

  And Renner knew. He would march into Hell for this woman. Only for these true blues. Only for Tara.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Kelsey stood watching the wintery sky in the cold parking lot of Raymond’s Kids with Mark at her side, diligently searching for running lights that would signal Renner’s and Tara’s arrival. It had been hours since Renner had called with a sitrep. She knew Montego was dead, literally torn apart by the very men she’d tortured. Which seemed a just and fitting end for the wicked woman. She’d hurt so many innocent military members in her short time in America. Their families too. She deserved more than one death, but one would have to do.

  Seth and Beckam had also located the recently missing military members, who were now on their way to the nearest hospital. They’d refused to be separated, had actually fought off the Virginia State Police officers who’d simply tried to remove their dead companion’s body from where Seth had laid him on a police gurney. Renner’d had to speak to them, then Tara, too. At last the men relented, and the battered man K
elsey knew only as Shy was finally on his way home. And that was good.

  At last his worried family would know where he was. Their nightmare may not have ended like they’d wanted and hoped and prayed all these months, but nightmares seldom ended well. At least, it was over. Sometimes that was the only good that came out of, what Kelsey knew from her own sad experience, had to have been a heartbreaking storm.

  Renner had told her, with a definite hint of pride in his voice, that Tom and his men had gone willingly into FBI custody. Covered in Montego’s blood, they’d been singing and jubilant when at last they’d marched out of that meat-packing plant and into the bright glare of a hundred state police spotlights and rifles. And the ever-present media.

  It seemed something only a man could understand—the barbaric pride of a kill. But Kelsey understood the psychology behind that pride. It wasn’t too long ago she’d been forced to defend herself and her sweet man/child, Raymond, against another wicked woman, that one the despicable mother of the murderer who’d killed Kelsey’s precious baby boys.

  Which only proved once again that life did go on. That tears eventually dried. That, like it or not, the sun would continue to rise, and snows and rains would fall. That your broken heart would keep beating until you found a way to live around the hole in it.

  A thick blanket settled over her shoulders. Drawing it tighter under her chin, she said, “Thank you, Mark. This is thoughtful, but you should go home. They shouldn’t be long now.”

  Two strong arms engulfed her. A warm male body pressed against her backside. It wasn’t Mark. Kelsey bowed her head. Alex was here.

  “I love you, sweetheart,” he breathed into the crook of her neck.

  The dam she’d been holding back broke loose, tears spilling down her cheeks like two rivers she could never seem to control.

  “Hey, what’s all this about?” Alex murmured as he turned her into his chest and tucked her head under his chin, his hands big and strong and warm on her back. His chest broad and solid.