His Soldier Under Siege

by Regan Black

  So what if he’d killed fifteen civilians in some craggy hovel on the other side of the world? The soldiers he’d been protecting at the time had made it out, made it home to their families. General Riley had made an example of his efforts, robbing him of a chance to raise his daughter, to grow old with his wife. Now he’d make an example of the general’s children. Make the man understand the suffering he’d inflicted.

  He picked up the phone. The first call set in motion a plan guaranteed to bring the oldest Riley daughter to her knees. Finally. The second call ensured that his ultimate plan would continue to roll like an avalanche, even if, by some miracle, the authorities found him.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning at breakfast, Patricia announced she was taking her girls shopping and the guys would be on their own. Derek hoped the outing perked up Grace Ann. Her phone had been humming all morning with updates from Hank, though she didn’t share details. He only knew some of the messages left her cringing, while others put a battle light in her eyes.

  Regardless of the circumstances they were trying to ignore, he felt he needed to speak with Ben about his plan to propose to Grace Ann. Yes, they were all adults, but traditions mattered, too, and Derek had too few of those in his life. He’d just about worked up the courage to ask for a quick meeting in the general’s office when Ben announced the men should take out the boat for a fishing trip and see if they could catch enough for dinner.

  Maybe there would be time out there for a private word.

  Or maybe he’d just have this conversation with all of the Riley men at once.

  * * *

  In the maternity department of one of the outdoor mall’s bigger stores, Grace Ann slid hangers from side to side on the rack. They’d decided to start the day shopping for work clothes for Bethany that didn’t scream “I’m pregnant!”

  When her sister and sister-in-law moved out of earshot, she caught her mom’s eye. “Maybe I should just resign.” There, she’d finally given voice to what felt like the worst-case scenario. If anyone would talk her though every side of the decision, it would be her mother.

  “You certainly could do that,” Patricia said. “Is that what you want?”

  “How do I know?” She’d woken up queasy and irritable again, unable to decide on anything. Not even a quick surf lesson with Caleb had settled her system. “I had what I wanted, Mom.” Respect among her peers, a positive and challenging environment. She pulled out a square-neck top and held it up for an opinion. Patricia shook her head.

  “With Eaton pulling the rug out from under me...”

  “He’s a sick man. You can’t let that factor in.”

  “But it does, Mom. This isn’t like Matt’s situation. He was innocent.”

  “Your brother is hardly innocent,” Patricia muttered.

  Clearly her mother hadn’t quite forgiven Matt for keeping his son a secret from the family for nearly fifteen years. “He was honoring Bethany’s request. You know that. Matt sure didn’t let Eaton make a spectacle of him or the family. That was all me.”

  “We’re all people, as flawed as we are special. Some more temperamental than others,” she added with a wink. “Hank and the JAG office will salvage your career, you know that.”

  Did she? “My reputation is in tatters after the broadcast last night.” She forced out the real problem. “Derek’s reputation might take a beating, too, and he’s only here because he was trying to help me.”

  “Derek seems to handle whatever life tosses at him. I like that.”

  “Just because he can doesn’t mean he should have to.” She stopped, hearing the echo of his supportive words to her from a few days ago. “He must wish he’d never met me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What’s that mean?” she demanded.

  “It means he seems to be exactly where he wants to be. Next to you.”

  There was an itch between her shoulder blades. She should have told him she loved him back. “I can’t imagine why. We’re too different. I’m the embodiment of everything he doesn’t want to be part of.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Patricia said with too much cheer. “And I think you know that.”

  “I love him.” Just admitting it made her feel better, from the inside out.

  “You should tell him, not me.”

  Once again, her mother was right. He’d said he’d loved her and she’d been a big chicken. That wasn’t like her at all. “How did you raise us to live so fearlessly?” she wondered aloud. “We knew Dad worked in bad places, risky places, but you kept us straight.”

  “Sometimes.” Patricia pulled out another blouse, held it up. “Bethany, what about this?”

  Her sister-in-law glanced over. “Oh, that’s pretty.” Then she frowned at the soft green colors. “Will I look like a frog?”

  “Not a chance.” Patricia beamed. “Go try it on.” Turning back to Grace Ann, she said, “Have you forgotten that living big is about where you put your focus? You have to be logical, reasonable, and then you have to decide how to be happy in the midst of it.”

  Grace Ann was chewing on that bit of wisdom when an emergency signal sounded. The store lights flashed off, though there was plenty of sunlight coming in through the plate glass windows. The three of them stared at each other for a split second as an order to evacuate the mall came over the speakers.

  “Jolene, go get Bethany,” Patricia said.

  The emergency signal clanged again, and a rapid burst of gunfire echoed from somewhere nearby.

  “That’s in the courtyard.” This end of the mall was anchored with the food court, including a large carousel, a playground, and seating indoors and out.

  Instinctively, Grace Ann started toward the sound, but her mother caught her elbow.

  “No, Gracie. Not today.”

  Jolene and Bethany rushed back into view, faces pale. Her mom was right. Getting Bethany out safely was the top priority. They moved along with the other shoppers, rushing toward the nearest exit as more gunfire preceded a crash of breaking glass.

  Sirens howled as emergency vehicles approached.

  They were almost to the parking lot when a mother’s cry of dismay was cut short by a gunshot. A child screamed in terror and Grace Ann froze. She knew that sound. In an instant, she wasn’t in the States anymore. She and her ghosts were right back in a dusty village on the other side of the world where she’d failed a little girl who’d made a similar plea on a bright spring day.

  Without a word to her family, she turned, weaving through the sea of people to get closer to the crisis.

  * * *

  Derek and the Riley men were at the dock, loading the bait coolers into the boat when Matt called out for Ben. He held up his phone. “There’s a hostage situation at the mall.”

  “Where the girls are?” Ben asked. “Damn it. Ten to one, Eaton’s involved.”

  “Bethany.” Matt cleared his throat, his face set in grim lines as his son stepped up beside him. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “We’re all going,” Derek said, thinking of Grace Ann. Whether or not Eaton was behind it, he couldn’t let her face the crisis alone.

  “I’m driving.” Mark grabbed the keys from his dad. “Let’s move.”

  They all piled back into Ben’s SUV. From the front seat, Ben tuned the radio to a news station. Derek and Caleb scrolled through footage on their phones, Luke and Matt reading over their shoulders.

  Ben pushed a hand through his hair. “Eaton is determined to break my baby girl,” he murmured. “To prove that a soldier pushed past the limit isn’t responsible for the fallout.”

  “You don’t believe that,” Mark said.

  “Even if I did, there are consequences for the actions we take. At one time Eaton knew that himself.” He went quiet as the reporter interviewed a witness who described a man dressed in an old military uniform entering th
e food court and taking several hostages.

  Derek searched social media and found the thread already growing. He enlarged a grainy picture on his phone to see five women and two men tied to a picnic table near a playground. A man wearing a suicide vest held them at gunpoint. He showed the picture to Ben.

  Ben pounded on the car door. “It’s the village school all over again.”

  “What are you talking about?” Matt asked before Derek could.

  “That school bombing in Afghanistan originated with a man strapped to a bomb. He took a classroom hostage and only a few survived.”

  “Gracie told you?” Derek queried.

  “No. Her commander and I discussed it.” He swore. “Eaton successfully worked oversight on a similar mission a year before he went off the deep end. It’s all connected in his twisted mind.”

  Personal, Derek thought as his phone rang. “It’s Grace Ann.” He answered in speaker mode so they could all hear her.

  “Derek?” In that one word, he knew everything. She was on the scene and ready to act.

  “You’re on speaker,” he said.

  “Seven hostages, five female, two male. Two perps, male, in ski masks with rifles and plenty of bullets. One perp is wearing a vest.”

  They all looked at one another. “Two perps?” Derek asked.

  “One holding the hostages, and the vest looks like the real deal. Second man is on the roof of the building west of the playground. He has a clear shot of anyone trying to help the hostages.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Food court, up to my elbows in mostly superficial gunshot wounds.”

  “Has anyone recognized you?” Matt queried.

  “Not yet,” she whispered.

  Gunfire at the scene came through the phone speakers. When it was quiet again, Derek realized the call had ended. He swore.

  “Call Mom,” Mark said to Ben, goosing the engine. “First we find them, then we give Grace Ann backup.”

  “I’ll tell the police about the guy on the roof,” Luke said.

  Derek just stared at his phone. There was no one to call, nothing to do in the back of Ben’s SUV but wait it out.

  * * *

  Grace Ann had done what she could to warn her family. Now she had to do something proactive here. She and several other people were hunkered down behind the concrete wall separating the doors that opened to the playground and courtyard, but it wasn’t enough. There was too much open space.

  Anyone who tried to get to the hostages was fired on from the guy on the roof. Anyone making a move toward the parking lot took fire from the guy with the vest.

  The sounds of panic and weeping at the scene were too close to what had happened at the village school to be a coincidence. Had to be Eaton. The recognition of his tactic, this blatant attempt to unnerve her, had galvanized her instead.

  Grace Ann considered going out, hands raised, and dismissed the idea. This team wasn’t here to negotiate; they were here to break her down and capture it for Eaton’s viewing pleasure and her father’s dismay.

  Several feet away, the wife of one hostage wept inconsolably. Understandable. Grace Ann’s more immediate concern was that the security guard who’d tried to intervene would lose his leg if she couldn’t get him to a hospital.

  She pressed her cell phone into the guard’s hands. “Call the police, tell them everything we know.” She shifted toward the next victim, a teenage girl with a chunk of glass jutting from her calf. “Tell them there are two mercenaries and any request they make is a diversion.”

  “You were on the news last night,” the guard said.

  “I was.” The glass, embedded deep, was keeping the girl’s bleeding to a minimum. “This looks worse than it is,” she lied to the girl.

  “Well, it hurts worse than it looks then,” the girl replied. “Can’t you get it out?”

  “You’re better off leaving it right where it is.” What she wouldn’t give for some tape to be sure the girl didn’t mess with it. “What’s your name?”

  “Tori.”

  “All right, Tori, promise me you’ll leave that alone.” She nodded. “Super. Too bad the leggings won’t make it.” To her relief, Tori smiled. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve walking.”

  “Not a bit,” Grace Ann said. “When the paramedics get in here, make sure the guard gets out for treatment first.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She peered around the corner to check on the hostages. The bastard with the bomb on his chest had wedged them between the carousel and an overturned picnic table. The device she assumed was the bomb’s trigger was clipped to his belt and he held his gun with both hands, sweeping the weapon side to side to prevent anyone from making a rescue attempt.

  The security guard waved at her. “Police are five minutes out,” he whispered when she crept back to his side. “They know about the sniper on the roof.”

  “Nice job.” She picked up the guard’s gun, a revolver. There had to be a way to make a difference here, before that vest blew by accident or on purpose. “Do you have a knife?” she asked the guard. If she could create a diversion, she might be able to sneak around the landscaping and get the hostages free.

  “I do,” the teenager said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a hefty switchblade, sliding it across the floor to Grace Ann.

  Grace Ann shot her a look, but who was she to judge? She tucked the knife into her pocket and looked around for anything she could use as a distraction and heard the thumping rotor of a helicopter overhead. It was the opening she needed.

  Leaning around the concrete pillar, she saw both men were eyeing the police helicopter. Crouching low, she fired twice, hitting the knees of the man wearing the vest. He pitched forward, away from the table, and she ducked out of the way as he screamed in pain, gunfire spraying in a wide arc as he went down.

  Thankfully, the bomb didn’t detonate and the hostage taker had fallen unconscious from the pain. She rushed to the playground, kicking the gun out of his reach on her way to check on the hostages.

  To her immense relief, all seven people were unharmed.

  She shouted the good news back to the security guard as she cut them free and ushered them away from the hostage taker on the other side of the table. Paramedics and police descended on the scene and when she glanced up at the roof, she saw the man in the sniper’s position being cuffed by a tactical team.

  Despite her protests and efforts to get back to her family, she was loaded into an ambulance and rushed to the hospital along with others who’d been injured. Dazed and light-headed as the adrenaline rush faded, her first and only thoughts were of Derek.

  She’d never hold back an “I love you” again.

  Although Eaton had been set on forcing her into breakdown, his stunt had actually created a breakthrough. If she was going to live the big and full life she wanted—with Derek—it was past time to seek out a PTSD evaluation and the right support.

  * * *

  Derek thought he would go crazy with the lack of news. They’d almost reached the mall when they got word the crisis was over and victims were being transported to the nearest hospital. He’d called Grace Ann repeatedly, but she didn’t pick up. A thousand dreadful scenarios rolled through his mind. Where was she?

  When they reached the ER handling the crisis, Ben blustered until the staff told him she was indeed in the back, under a doctor’s care. Patricia, Bethany and Jolene joined them, unharmed, after Bethany had an ultrasound to verify the baby was fine. No matter how Patricia cajoled, they wouldn’t let her back to see her daughter.

  It was over an hour before Hank joined the family in the waiting room. He confirmed what they already suspected. The sniper on the roof confessed that Eaton ordered the men to launch the attack at the mall. He was eager to trade insight on the intric
ate communication relays for leniency. Grace Ann had not only saved lives, she’d denied Eaton a meltdown and any victory points by taking action before the news crews were set up.

  “Did he give up Eaton’s location?” Ben asked, his arm around Patricia.

  “He’s not that high on the food chain,” Hank replied. “For now, let’s celebrate this win over the Riley Hunter. Hey, Derek, is this the guy you saw in the stairwell?”

  Hank showed him a picture of the hostage taker who’d worn what had apparently been a fake bomb vest. Derek recognized the face, and pointed to the tattoo on his wrist. “That’s him.”

  “Sweet,” Hank said with a lethal tone. “Once he’s out of surgery, he’ll talk, too.”

  The doors to the treatment area parted and a nurse stepped into the waiting room. “Derek Sayer?” He raised his hand and she waved him forward. “Follow me, please.”

  “Is she okay?” he asked as he matched her brisk pace down the hall.

  “Grace Ann has been asking for you.” The nurse held back a curtain dividing the ER bays. “Go on in.”

  He hesitated, relief making his movements sluggish. She was dirty, her clothing torn and stained, but she seemed to be all in one piece. And alert. “They won’t let me leave without a workup.” She reached out to him and her wobbling smile cut through the last of his fear.

  “About time someone got you to hold still.” He came closer and smoothed her hair back from her face, kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. “Were you hurt?”

  “I got grazed by a bullet or something.” She raised her upper arm where someone had cleaned her up and applied a bandage. “Didn’t even need stitches.”

  “Grace Ann, you amaze me.”

  “I’m sorry, Derek.” She wouldn’t look at him. “I know I should have stuck with mom and the girls. I know I worried everyone but...”

  “Shh, now. You did the right thing. The you thing.” And seven hostages would return to their families alive and well, thanks to her.