Trusting Love (5 page)

Walters yelled something above the gunfire, exploding plaster, and wood chips raining down but he couldn’t quite catch the words. He thought he’d said ‘what the hell?’, but Robert didn’t worry over making sense of it. Instead he rolled to his feet and immediately spotted Benjamin. The kid was bleeding from his nose and mouth and his head was twisted at an odd angle.

DeRoy was on the leather sofa, a bullet hole in the exact centre of his forehead.

Sonya crouched down behind the bar, firing at Walters, who had tossed the other leather couch onto its side for partial cover.

Two men broke past Walters’ barrage of bullets and ducked down on Robert’s side of the room. Sonya kept Walters busy but the other two fixed Robert in their sights and circled to get around behind him.

He fired twice, hitting both but nothing serious because they both kept coming. One took a stance behind the couch that held the dead senator and returned fire. A lucky bullet threw Robert backwards with a blast of pain so intense he swallowed down the immediate nausea even as his opponent took the advantage and attacked.

Robert went down, but brought the other man with him, holding his arms pinned to his sides with his legs in a scissor hold. He bashed the guy’s head with his and fought to keep himself on top so he could keep from being shot.

They rolled and Robert released him, lunging to his feet and following through with several direct kicks to the kidneys. Rob’s shot shoulder took a punishing blow that had him gritting his teeth from the rush of pain. Rage exploded behind his eyes, blurring everything in a haze of red. He jabbed the man in the throat with enough force to collapse his windpipe and turned to take an upper cut to the jaw.

Blood splattered on his exhale, but Robert tossed the pain aside and focused on the fight. They exchanged several more punishing blows, matching each other perfectly. From his right a dark-haired tattooed man jumped over the fallen coffee table, hit him in the side, and swung at Robert’s face. Robert caught his hand and twisted, using him as a human shield to block another attack. He heard a satisfying crunch of a knife breaking past the chest cavity of the man in his arms. He let go, and watched him fall, lifeless at his feet.

Stunned, Robert shook the sweat out of his eyes and stared at the man across from him. There was nothing in his blue eyes, no conscious knowledge or regret that he’d just downed one of his own. Nothing showed on his face but a crazed look, like a rabid dog needing to kill for the instinctual drive to murder something. He moved like a robot, but with such speed and unconcern over the damage Robert was doling out that a chill shivered up his spine even as sweat dripped down his ribs.

Jansen yelled through the com something he barely made out beyond the order to exit now. He couldn’t agree more.

He brought his knife out and, holding it low, tucked himself down nearer to the ground and tackled Robocreep when he came in on the offensive. Robert swung his fist up and jammed his nine inch knife right into the soft flesh under his chin, hitting his brain with the savage blow that killed him instantly.

“Tazz!”

Robert heard crashing glass immediately after Walters’ shout.

Time to go.
He left his knife behind and turned to see Sonya yelling to go after Walters. She wore black and her red hair, usually tied up in a ponytail if not disguised with a wig, was down, her face paler than usual, but her eyes—the green in them was dull while the rest of her eyes were bloodshot. She was either on the drug, or on something else. It shocked the shit out of him. If anyone knew what the drug could do, it was Sonya. She wanted this stuff as gone as he did. Why take it then?

Another voice, laced with an accent and deep, called her name, quieting her.

Robert didn’t take the chance of staying to hear more.

He moved so the wall of windows was to his back as the last man came at him. He dived at his new opponent and managed to knock him backwards onto the glass topped coffee table then jump back to his feet, rush at the window, and hit it with his shoulder and side. He sliced himself up but he also broke the window and landed in the snow with a soft thump. Thanking whatever God had created stupid men like DeRoy for not purchasing bulletproof glass, he lumbered to his feet and found himself face to face with Walters’ gun.

“Fuck this shit, huh?” Walters grumbled, but he was a second too slow in lowering his weapon in Rob’s opinion. “Let’s get out of here.” He didn’t wait, but took off at a dead run in the direction of the woods.

Rob got up a bit slower. His shoulder wound had begun bleeding bad enough to make him worry over blood loss. A yell through the broken windows got him moving. DeRoy didn’t have a perimeter security set up to warn the intruders where they ran, either. The cover of dark was on their side as well. Robert thanked the greedy old man again as he raced directly for the trees. As soon as they reached the woods, he’d head them north—not straight up—to where a road led to a highway and further on down to town.

Shots sounded behind him and more whistled through the air from their left—his men returning fire. The shots nearing them ended and he turned to focus on what he hoped were his men in the hills.

A male voice shouted for them to stop shooting into the night. The shots from the house slowed then stopped. The guy must have realised how many bullets his men were wasting aiming at Bryson and Jansen.

Walters stumbled in the deepening snow as soon as they reached the tree line and landed hard on one knee. He got to his feet with an effort and continued on unaided, so Robert indicated which direction they should go and they crashed deeper into the limited safety of the trees together.

Out of nowhere, another shot found its mark in his side and sent him head first into a tree. Pain blistered up from his side and dimmed the blow to his forehead. The pain brought him to his knees. The lucky bastard—or the damn good sniper—hit had struck right in the fleshy muscle above his hip. A little more to the inside and he’d be done. The last time he’d taken his dose of the drug had been yesterday, so he was due for the next and that might have explained the rush of pain, but worse, he feared he’d built up a resistance to the genetic altering pill—if that was possible.

“Damn, man, how the hell—?” Walters broke off when more shots splintered the frozen trees around them.

“Just move!” Robert yelled, gaining his feet with difficulty, but holding his side he managed a half jog, half run for a few hundred yards before he needed to stop.

“Fuck! Sonya was with them,” Walters panted, landing in the snow near him.

“Yes, she was.” The spy had an agenda. She always did. He thought this time it was to end the serum that had nearly killed her. Maybe it still was, but he couldn’t be certain. She’d once been a mark for hire. Had she gone back to that life? No, he’d not believe that until he had proof. The odds said she hadn’t. For one, she never missed a shot. She could have killed him before he’d known it was her behind the trigger if she’d wanted him dead. Something else was afoot. Something he’d get if he just had time to think of anything other than what their next move would be.

“We don’t know the deal, but for now, she’s not looking good. We should keep on. From here on we go up. Hopefully this snowfall will cover our tracks by the time they think to look here for us instead of out there on the road.” He held his side tightly to stop the blood as he spoke, but felt the warm flow of it on his hand.

“Let’s hope. But for the record, Sonya always looks good, even shooting my ass.” Walters grinned, but he quickly took off up the hillside.

Robert didn’t bother telling the man he was barking up the wrong woman. Sonya liked men that had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with their life. The ordinary type of artsy guys, the kind that were man enough to sing and play their guitar for a woman were her favourites. Walters, with his bluster and boasting, didn’t even stand a chance.

“I don’t hear anyone yet on those snowmobiles,” Walters called back.

“Nope, they would need to get those fired up and ready.” He was betting on that taking at least five minutes. They would be long gone by then. Plus, he guessed they thought the flash drive was still in the case, so they weren’t as quick to follow them either. Benjamin had paid for his crimes, but what a price. DeRoy had got off easy, in his opinion.

The com clicked and Jansen’s voice filled his ear. “Report in, Tazz. What the hell—?”

Robert clicked the com and nodded towards the hill for Walters. “We’re coming in on the far ridge shaped like a hammer head.”

“Copy that. I’ve not heard from Bryson. I’ll—” Static hit the line. The line wasn’t dead because he clearly heard Walters hit his and ask them to report.

“Nothing,” Robert growled. “Shit, Sonya, what’s your game?”

“She wouldn’t hit our guys. She could have killed you. She didn’t. The big bastard with her, though, he looked deadly and familiar. I need a computer.”

“I didn’t spot him. What did he look like?”

Walters scanned the area before he turned back. “Big guy, rich as hell, European maybe?”

Robert frowned. He wanted to ask what the hell that meant, but the sound of snowmobile engines brought them both up short.

“Fuck!” he growled.

Their five minutes suddenly turned into more like two. His shoulder was bleeding heavily, his side also seeped warm blood, but with the drug coursing through his system he could have kept going until the loss of blood killed him.

Walters had been shot in his left arm if the way he held it meant anything.

Right now they needed to take care of their wounds before they continued on, and the sound of the damn snowmobiles made that a more of a priority than ever. If they had to run they needed to be in top shape.

He made a decision and said, “We bind our wounds. Those snowmobiles will be on us soon. We have to split. I’ll check the ridge for the men—”

“No, you’re more of a liability. I’ll look for Bryson and Jansen. You get down to the checkpoint. We’ll meet up at the second location just in case Super Sonya has intelligence on the first.” Walters grinned at his joke, but he also took his sweater off and ripped a long strip of cloth from the shirt he wore under it. He handed the scrap to Robert with a nod to his bleeding arm. “Tie this fucker up and I’ll do you the honours, then we’ll get this flash drive out of circulation.”

“If we can,” Robert said, already using the shirt to bind Walters’ wound. “In and out. Who shot you?”

“Sonya, the brat. Remind me to talk to her about this next time we meet up for coffee, okay?” Walters winced when Robert tightened the bandage, but shrugged his sweater back on easily enough. “This snow is not our friend, man. Avalanches—hell, the snowfall alone will slow us down to a crawl. Maybe I should take the flash drive. You’re in rougher shape than I thought.”

“I got it. Tie this up and I’m fine.” Robert shrugged out of his own sweater and eased out of the button-down shirt and T-shirt too before he met Walters’ eyes. Walters had made that suggestion sound casual, too casual. He hid his hand under the fabric of his shirt, his gun still in it. “Not in and out, huh?” he asked at the frown on Walters’ face.

Walters shook his head as if he’d lost himself in his thoughts. “Nah, never easy, you know?” He wrapped Robert’s shoulder quickly, not speaking again. Right after he worked on getting the side wound plugged up. “Caught another in the arm, but it’s an in and out, more a scratch, really.”

Walters worked quickly, and Robert had his shirts and sweater back on before he was too wet from the snow falling on his heated body. He also didn’t meet Rob’s gaze while he made a show of scanning the area and blowing on his hands as if to warm them. Robert wasn’t chilled, but then again, he had no idea if the drug allowed cold to affect them.

“Good?” he asked.

“Me? Good as gold.” Walters snorted. “Hell, this drug might fuck us up, but while it does, it makes life interesting, doesn’t it?”

Robert didn’t answer. He didn’t agree and having that conversation with a man he didn’t know well enough to trust wasn’t his style. Instincts warned him now more than ever that there was more to this man than he let everyone see. The senator had been shot in the head, sure, from the front, but the kid had been killed with a twisted neck, something every special ops knew how to do in their sleep.

“We head off from here, try to dodge the snowmobiles, but hell, they sound like they’ve already lost our trail.” Walters pushed up his sleeve to check his watch and shook his head. “They didn’t even make it five minutes.”

The snowmobiles had gone off their trail, which was odd, but not unreasonable. The snow was thick and they’d got to the trees and angled away from the road. Sonya, and he hoped the man she’d signed on with, would think they’d head to the only road that led out of this rough country. They said Texas was big, but it wasn’t full of the kind wilderness Wyoming boasted.

“What do you have left for arms?” Robert asked.

“A Sauer at my back, another at my ankle, and three knives.”

“Damn, man, you’re holding an arsenal.” Robert tried to straighten his shoulders but the bullet wound shot pain through his side when he did.

“And you aren’t? I peg you for one more knife,” Walters said.

“Two, plus another gun.”

“Shit. And you claim you’re not my hero?”

Rob shook his head at the humour, but under it he heard more sarcasm than joking.

“Yeah, well, right now your hero wants to know where the fuck Bryson and Jansen are.”

“Tay-Tay and Janie will be on the mountain top, covered in snow, which is blockin’ their com but they’re too dumb to know it.”

Robert laughed dryly at the joke, less impressed by Walters by the minute. The snowmobiles were growing closer.

“You go check on the boys anyway, okay? Then hit that second location. Give me time, but not longer than five hours. This snow is a bitch but we get there and end this as quickly as we can. If I’m not there, do it without me.” He left off all the kid had told him, keeping that on the low from instinct more than anything else.

Walters gave him an odd look and nodded.