Killing Game (Veritas Book 2) (16 page)

Rafferty’s face paled as his hand sought his wife’s. Clearly, not everyone wanted to be on this crazy train.

“Once you get the photos,” Ellers said, “we’ll go through them, one by one. I’ll tell you which ones to keep and which ones to delete.”

Keith’s mouth twitched, but he wisely held his silence.

The commander’s attention moved to her. “You got any skills, woman?”

Like putting you behind bars, asshole?

“I can cook,” she replied. If she spent time with some of the women, she might be able to learn more, figure out how to get her people out of here alive.

“Maudie!”

“Yes, Commander,” an older woman replied, stepping forward. She wore a plain dress like the others, but Susan swore she saw a spark of defiance in the woman’s eyes.

“Take these two females and put them to work,” he said, jerking a thumb toward Susan and Patti.

“What about me?” Preston asked, his nerves causing him to fidget.

Susan gave Bill a quick look, and the message was passed.

“He could help me organize your notes,” Bill cut in. “You’ve got a lot of details in there, and I need to make sure they’re right in the final draft.”

“Do it then,” Ellers said dismissively. “Let me know if he isn’t pulling his weight, and we’ll take care of that problem.” He looked over the assemblage. “Where’s Sweetman?”

“Here, sir,” a man said, stepping forward. He seemed surprised that he’d been singled out.

Ellers waved him forward until the man was standing directly in front of him. “You got anything to confess?”

“What—ah, no, sir,” the man replied, but his eyes darted around, looking panicked.

Ellers gestured to one of the guards, who came forward, a backpack in hand. “That yours?” Sweetman nodded.

“Dump it out.” The guard turned the pack upside down, and banded stacks of cash hit the ground, probably from the armed-car robbery. Apparently, James hadn’t turned in all the loot.

Ellers glowered. “I was told that Hardegree was bringing me fifty thousand dollars. Then I was told he skimmed some off the top so only twenty thousand made it to the camp. Now I find another twenty in your backpack. Why is that?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Sweetman said, backing up. He pointed at James, his hand quaking. “He told me to do it. Said I should kill that Hardegree guy and the woman.”

Ellers turned toward his nephew, an eyebrow raised. “James?”

“Not true,” the young man replied, but Susan heard the tremble in his voice.

“What? Wait! No, he’s lying,” Sweetman cried out. “He said I should kill them and hide the money, and then he’d make sure I got out of here safe, because you’re crazy and—”

“Silence!” Ellers bellowed.

Sweetman took another step back, only to bump into the solid bodies of the guards behind him, who pushed him back toward their leader. Sweetman shook in fear. “James, come on, man. Tell him!”

“How do we handle traitors in New America?” the commander demanded, his eyes blazing.

“Death!” someone called from the ranks.

“No! No, I swear he told me to—”

When Ellers placed the barrel of his gun against the man’s forehead, Susan buried Patti’s face in her chest. The single shot ensured that Sweetman was dead before he hit the ground.

“Oh my God,” Patti whimpered, shaking in fright.

“Anyone else think I’m crazy?” Ellers demanded, stomping up and down the ranks of his followers. “You?” A man shook his head vigorously. “What about you?” The woman he’d asked cowered in response.

He swung back toward the line of hostages. “Any one of you?”

Susan made sure to lower her eyes so he couldn’t see the “Hell, yes” that was in them. Apparently pleased he’d made his point, Ellers walked to his nephew.

“You try that bullshit with me again, and I’ll kill you. Doesn’t matter if you’re family or not. I demand absolute loyalty, you understand?” The young man gave a jerky nod. “Then get back to work on that project. I expect it to be done on time, even if you are my sister’s useless bastard.”

Holstering his weapon, Ellers climbed the steps to the porch. “Rafferty? Bring that money inside.” He slammed the door of the house behind him, missing the look of pure hate that James sent his way.

“Come on,” Maudie said, tugging on Susan’s arm. “Best to be out of sight until he calms down. Invisible is best. You live longer that way.”

“Unless you trust James, that is,” Susan said.

The woman eyed her. “That’s gospel, for sure.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Brannon drifted on, keeping silent, searching for any additional markings that might indicate explosives or traps. Cait was still to his left, moving as silently as he was. She’d covered her blond hair with a dark handkerchief so it wasn’t as noticeable. Once night set in, he bet she’d vanish entirely into the landscape, just like he would.

She abruptly came to a halt, and her hand came up in a “stop” signal. He held his position, checking for any tangos. There weren’t any.

“What’s wrong?”

“IED. You need to move away,” she said, her eyes riveted on her feet.

Ah, fuck
. “Pressure plate?”

“It’s near my left toe, and there’s a trip wire right behind that leg. I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

He moved toward her cautiously.

“Bran, back off!”

He ignored her, studying the situation. “You don’t do anything half assed, do you?”

She shook her head, fear in her eyes. But there was more there too: the cold acceptance of fate.

“Once this detonates, they’ll be out here in force. You need to go on with the mission.”

He judged the distance from the closest tree to where she stood. Perhaps there was a way to get her free.

“Bran,” she said, “are you listening to me?”

“I’m hearing you, but right now, I’m not buying what you’re telling me.”

“Why? This isn’t a survivable situation,
Lieutenant
. We both know that.”

Only now did he look up at her. “Because you want it to be that way?”

His blunt question rendered her speechless for a moment. “Maybe. At least the nightmares will end,” she admitted. “Ironic that some tin-pot dictator might have done me a favor.”

Brannon’s gut churned at the thought. “Trust me, someday the nightmares will give way to good dreams. Dreams of the future. Ones that come true.”

She glared at him. “What are you, my damned fairy godmother or something?”

He couldn’t stop the grin. “Something like that.”

“Please, Bran, go! I don’t want you hurt.”

He shook his head. “You see, that’s the problem. If I walk away and you die, I
will
be hurt. I’ll always remember your beautiful eyes, your full lips, how you cried out my name when we made love. You’re as much a part of me as my own heart, Caitlyn. If you die, I will always grieve deep inside.”

She blinked at him in shock.

“Now shut the hell up, Sergeant, and let me figure this out.”

Cait snapped her mouth closed and it formed into a tight white line.

He pulled off his rucksack and set it aside, then scaled the nearest tree, a big white oak. Bits of bark fell as he climbed, broken free by his fingers. Brannon peered down at her, then nodded to himself. Once he was back on the ground, he reached out his hand. “Remove your ruck and give it to me. Be careful not to shift your weight.”

“What are you going to do?” she demanded.

“Rescue a damsel in distress.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” He saw the plea in her eyes. “Trust me, please.”

She heaved a sigh and gingerly removed her pack. When he took it from her, he was careful not to inadvertently alter her balance. “Stay put.”

“Like I’m going somewhere?” she snapped. “Other than that big recruitment center in the sky?”

Brannon would have laughed at that, but he was focusing on what was about to happen. If it went wrong, they’d both end up maimed or dead. He carried both of their rucksacks and the remainder of their gear about thirty feet away from the IED, then returned to where his companion stood immobile. Cautiously clearing the area around her of debris, he began to pile it up on Cait’s right side: fallen logs, brush, anything that might act as a shield from the blast. It was a piss-poor substitute for body armor, but it was all they had.

“Once I’m in place, I’ll do a count of three, and then I want you to jump toward me, grab my hand, and I’ll swing us both to the other side of this tree. We’re going to the ground hard and fast.”

“This isn’t going to work.”

“It has a chance. The IED has sunk into the ground at least a foot, so if we’re lucky the force of the blast will be directed up, not out.”

“Huh. You really think this is an option, Ranger?”

He swung himself back up into the tree. “Let’s find out, Marine.”

She looked up at him, and he saw a faint glimmer of hope.

“You were right, last night was special. Thank you,” Cait said softly.

God, she’s so strong, even now
. “Then let’s make sure there’re more of those kinds of nights.” He extended his arm. “On three. One . . . two . . . three!”

As Cait sprang toward him, he clasped her arms in a circus hold and swung them around the broad tree with as much momentum as he could generate. Then they were falling, hitting the ground hard, covering their heads.

But there was no explosion.

They stared at each other in shock for a brief second, then scrambled up and ran. Grabbing their rucksacks and gear, they continued their retreat.

“What the hell?” she muttered, brushing away the dirt as they kept moving. “Why didn’t it blow?”

“Whoever rigged it might not have had a clue. Or the rain got to it. Who knows?”

When he stopped and turned, she did as well. “I don’t know what it says when the bastards in the Middle East can build better bombs than our own insurgents can.”

“We’re offshoring everything nowadays,” Cait replied.

They grinned in unison, but her grin quickly faded.

“That was too damned close,” he said, touching her cheek.

“You didn’t know it wouldn’t explode. You risked your life for me.”

“You would have done the same.”

“Yeah, I would have.”

“Which means we might still get our time together at a fancy hotel on the beach.”

“You really liked last night, didn’t you?” she said.

“Oh hell, yes. Eager for more, sweetheart. In fact, let’s add in some time at my cabin up in Kentucky. You’ll like it up there. It’s really quiet.”

Suddenly, she grabbed onto Brannon and planted a scorching kiss on his lips, pulling him tight against her, molding her body to his as she plundered his mouth. When they stepped back, they were both breathless.

“Damn, Caitlyn. I will happily save your cute ass anytime you need if that’s what happens when I do.”

“You can get a kiss like that without risking your life.”

His breathing gradually evened out as they set off toward Ellers’s compound again.

“That’s the
second
time I’ve had an IED not explode,” Cait said.

As he opened his mouth to ask her the story, a dull explosion came from behind them. They turned as one and watched as the dirt and debris settled back down to the ground in a muddy cloud. The sharp crack of the oak tree heralded its demise, and it toppled over.

“Make that only
one
unexploded IED,” she muttered.

“Let’s get some distance from here in case Ellers gets nosy. Then I’ll call Veritas so they can tell the feds about the booby traps.”

Cait took point. As he trailed in her wake, watching her move through the brush, he murmured a short prayer of thanks under his breath. How he’d keep the tough Marine alive from this point on, he didn’t know. All he hoped was that at the end of this mission, they’d still be together.

*~*~*

The compound’s mess hall was filled with long trestle tables and benches, like a kids’ summer camp, and mosquito netting covered the windows, a precaution that would be vital during the hotter months. Susan and Patti worked at one of the tables, sitting opposite of each other, a mound of unpeeled potatoes between them. Maudie was farther down the same table, working pie dough on a pastry cloth. The faint squeak of the rolling pin reminded Susan of home and her mom’s peach cobbler. She missed them both so much.

As she pushed aside another peeled potato, the rolling pin kept moving, flattening the dough with practiced movements. Four pies sat nearby, all ready for the oven. The ones already baking smelled heavenly, the homey scent at odds with their situation. Patti’s hands still trembled as she shot nervous glances toward the older woman. Susan touched her arm, and the girl blinked over at her.

“We’ll get out of here,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Patti gave a short nod, glanced at Maudie again, then went back to her peeling.

“So who are you, young lady?” Maudie asked. “Because you barely flinched when Ellers killed that man.”

Susan realized she was talking to her. “I grew up in a bad neighborhood.” It sounded like a lie, and she knew it.

So did Maudie. “No, I’m not buying that.” The woman set aside her rolling pin. “One thing Ellers didn’t allow for: If you kill a federal agent, they’re going to send more. Maybe you.”

“Why would you think I’m one of them?”

“Because you’re not like the others. You got that look in your eyes, the kind that tells me you’re a lot more dangerous than you appear.”

Susan held her breath. Was this woman going to tell Ellers her concerns?

Maudie shook her head. “If you’re here to take down the commander, God help you.” She hesitated, then continued. “He’s stoked up on his own ego. He’ll kill us all before it’s over.” Scooting the finished pie aside, the woman swept the bits of dough into a pile.

“There’re enough of you to stop him if you wanted to,” Susan said.

Maudie shook her head again. “The ones with the most guns are loyal to him. What they don’t understand is that he’ll make them die for the cause and never allow his own blood to be shed. I see that now.”

A low rumble echoed in the distance and the ground shook.

“What was that?” Patti asked, her head popping up.

“One of the mines. The swamp is full of booby traps. Ellers thinks it’ll keep the feds from overrunning the place.” Her eyes were back on Susan now.

“I’m sure the feds would let you surrender if you don’t fight them.”

Maudie huffed. “Ellers will never allow that to happen.”

How forgiving would her fellow agents be if some of them were maimed or killed as they closed in on the compound? She wouldn’t be, that was for sure.

Maudie had just begun to roll out another crust when the door to the mess hall opened and a young man hurried in. He looked all of eighteen, if that.

“You gotta come quick. Carlin got snake bit. The commander said you gotta take care of him.”

Maudie dropped the rolling pin, then wiped her hands on her apron. “What kind of snake?”

“Pygmy rattler. The little bastard was hiding in the woodpile.”

“That’s exactly where it’d be.” She shifted her attention back to them. After a brief hesitation, Maudie took off her apron, placing it on the table next to Susan.

“You, girl?” she said. Patti’s head popped up. “You come with me. You need to learn how to handle this kind of thing.”

Susan suspected what the woman was about to do.

“Me?” Patti began. “But—”

“Go on with her,” Susan urged. “It’ll be okay. I’ll stay here and work.”

“Really? A snakebite?” Patti said. “I don’t know a thing about that.”

“But you’ll learn. It could come in handy down the line,” Susan replied.

With a classic teen huff, the girl rose and headed for the door. Maudie leaned down and deftly slid something out of her pocket, hiding it under the apron.

“I’m giving you a chance to go,” she whispered, “but you have to tell your people that not all of us are like Ellers. You have to give us a chance.”

“I will.”

“If you hurt this young man and you get caught, I’ll tell Ellers who you are. You won’t die easy. The last one sure didn’t.”

Their eyes met. “Understood.”

With a jerk of her head, the older woman turned and swept out the door, leaving only the guard behind. He looked at Susan nervously, and then his eyes fell on the unbaked pies. He licked his lips without realizing it. Food appeared to be his weakness, and given how skinny he was, Susan guessed he didn’t get near enough of it. Funny how Ellers didn’t seem to have the same problem.

“There’s a couple of pies about to come out of the oven,” she said.

“You don’t think she’d mind if I had some?”

“I doubt it. Maudie’s okay. You’re helping her out by keeping an eye on me.”

Still, he didn’t move from his post near the door, though his nostrils flared as the cooking timer dutifully counted down the last few minutes. Susan slid her hand under the apron, moving the pocketknife off the table and tucking it into her jeans. In the distance, another explosion shook the ground. It was up to her now: She could stay here and play tag with a madman, or she could run straight into a minefield.

I’ll take the bombs any day
.