Under His Protection

by Isabella Laase

  “This has been a good place for me,” said Victoria, unable to make direct eye contact. “I’ve felt safe here.”

  “But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. You’re safe at home,” insisted Amanda, still grasping her hand. “That’s the main reason I came to this shit hole. The bombing at the White House had nothing to do with you. It’s all over the news. It was some group called Hardcore after the presidency. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Cruz silently nodded to Victoria, and she willed her voice to remain calm. A lot of conversations had taken place on how best to pursue the questioning, but a compromise had ultimately been required. They’d agreed to her demands for honesty and kindness when dealing with her best friend, but she’d agreed not to share any of their working theories. “We’re going to interrogate her, Victoria,” Cruz had said firmly. “We’ll be as gentle as we can, but she’s a suspect. Period. If you can’t do this, then you need to recuse yourself.”

  Confronted with Amanda’s familiar smile, however, remaining unbiased was much harder than she’d expected. “It wasn’t just the explosion.” She continued with her scripted conversation, the predetermined order designed to gain as many clues as possible from Amanda’s nonverbal reaction. “There was a tracking device in my wallet. It’s how people were following me.”

  The hint of recognition in Amanda’s expression happened so quickly that she almost missed it. “That’s impossible, honey,” Amanda said with what was rapidly appearing to be fake sincerity. “Who would want to do that?”

  All four brothers nodded in agreement as though they’d acted as judge and jury to declare her complicit, but to accept that Amanda had tried to hurt her was too painful to fathom. She pushed aside Amanda’s slip-up as nothing more than a twitch of her nose and moved to protect her from scrutiny. “I think it was the Secret—”

  But Cruz cut her off with a glare, and she lowered her gaze while he took over the conversation. “That’s not all, Amanda. We didn’t release this information to the media, but somebody tried to kidnap her in Delaware. With about thirty more seconds, they’d have had her in a waiting van and out of my reach. We could have lost her that day.”

  That time Amanda paled, and she pulled her hand away from Victoria. “But that can’t have anything to do with the tracking device. It can’t. Just because somebody knew where you were, didn’t mean that they’d try to hurt you. They prom—”

  She stopped as suddenly as she started, but Cruz took the two steps to loom over her. Confronted by the giant hulk of angry male, Amanda jumped off the couch to move away from him. “They promised what, Amanda?” said Cruz, his voice deadly calm. “I’m not fucking around anymore. You’re the most logical person to have planted the device, and you’ve been the one who’s been encouraging her to make a lot of crappy decisions that caused this media blitz. Who the hell have you been working for?”

  “I’m not working for anybody,” she vehemently denied. “This isn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything.” While she spoke, the remaining three Cruz brothers moved to block any exits, Matt beating her to the small bathroom and the twins standing in front of each of the two doors that led outside. Amanda paled even further, and her voice rose in panic. “Get out of my way, right now. You can’t keep me here, or I’ll have all of you arrested. I want to go home.”

  “You came up here of your own free will,” said Matt, dropping his sheriff’s ID and shiny gold badge on the coffee table. “We recorded your conversation when Victoria invited you, so you don’t start pulling that shit. And I’m a New York County cop from a different jurisdiction, but we have an interesting law in this state that says I can arrest any suspect I need to as long as I have sufficient evidence to believe that a crime has been committed, and I’m pretty much there from what I’ve heard. The tracking device is in a nice little evidence bag, and I’m guessing that it won’t take much forensics talent to pull your prints off of it. So the only question left is, do you want to go down as cooperative, or do you want to do this the hard way? Cause either way, we’re getting some answers. Today.”

  “Please, Amanda,” begged Victoria. “Just tell them what you know. If our friendship means anything to you, you’ll do this for me and not put me through anything else.”

  “You?” snapped Amanda. “It’s always been about you. All I did was put Trevor’s tracking device in your damned wallet. Following you was important to his career as a journalist. He didn’t have anything to do with any kidnapping.”

  Victoria was forced back to her seat, her mouth open, and her stomach rolling in waves. She had done it. Amanda had truly betrayed her and there was nothing she could ever do or say that would take them back to a place of security. She had no idea how to respond when Cruz spoke with a sigh. “You’re an idiot, Amanda. He used you because of your friendship with Victoria, and you let him. You have no idea what he did with that information.”

  “Who the hell is Trevor?” asked one of the twins.

  “Trevor King,” rumbled Cruz. “He runs an internet newspaper, and that little bitch has been whoring for him for years.”

  “You can shut the fuck up,” snapped Amanda. “Who the hell do you think you are? Nobody is trying to hurt her. My father was the favorite in the primary election, and he’s the one who should have been on the ticket. All of her shit should have brought Bradford down before the reelection, but I didn’t see any reason to stop working with Trevor. All I did was let people know that she wasn’t some perfect little princess.”

  “Wait,” said Matt, his dark tone drawing all of Victoria’s attention. “King? Casey, did you bring the hard copies of all the articles I sent you?”

  Casey opened a backpack that had been dropped by the front door and handed Matt a thick manila envelope. The room grew quiet while he spread the papers across the dining room table, categorizing each one until he found what he was looking for, but his frozen expression did nothing to ease her fears. Dropping the sheets on the coffee table in front of Amanda, he growled, “I have access to information that isn’t available to the public, and a guy named King is on a long list of names tied to Hardcore. King’s not an uncommon name, and it could be a coincidence, but you can save us a lot of time that we really need. Does your Trevor King have a relative named Davis King who lives in Saratoga Springs?”

  Amanda’s expression was an open window of confusion, hurt, and fear, giving away the answer before she spoke. “Yes,” Amanda whispered. “That’s his cousin. I’ve met him a few times.”

  * * *

  A clearly distraught Victoria had bolted to the bathroom as soon as Amanda dropped her bombshell, but Cruz didn’t have the time to go after her. They quickly got Gray Atkinson, Matt’s old girlfriend and current FBI contact, on the phone.

  “But they were just going to follow her,” Amanda repeated over and over in a daze. “Nobody ever said anything about hurting anybody. I didn’t know anything about any connections to terrorists or bombings.”

  Amanda may have been guilty of making Victoria’s life miserable, but Cruz believed her when she said that she didn’t intend to cause bodily harm. It didn’t help his anger though, even after she waived her right to an attorney and agreed to return to DC without extradition. Victoria needed the fucking FBI to arrest both of the King cousins and jail all of their friends before she’d be safe, but Gray continued to ask question after question, simply replaying information they already had.

  Needing something to do, Cruz picked up Amanda’s designer bag to search for anything that would help when he felt a lump in the side panel. Running his hand along the inside, he found the same altered stitching that he’d seen in Victoria’s wallet. Interrupting the interrogation, he said, “How long have you had this, Amanda?”

  “I...” she stuttered. “Trevor gave it to me for Christmas, but don’t look at me like that. He had no reason to track me. I’ve always been honest with him.”

  It took him a few minutes to slit the seam open and reveal the s
econd tracking device. The room dropped to a dead silence as the full gravity sank in. King knew where Victoria was. Cruz immediately dropped the wallet to scan the yard for threats, but Amanda vomited in the trash can. “I swear I didn’t know that was there,” she whispered in defeat, wiping her mouth. “I swear I didn’t. I didn’t know that he was dangerous.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Casey, his face crestfallen. “I should have seen that. We looked through all of her stuff, and left all of her electronics behind, but I never noticed that.”

  “We knew this was a risk when we brought this one up here,” dismissed Cruz, pointing at Amanda. “We can’t plan for everything, but I’m not spending another night out here if they know where she is.” Turning to Matt, he pointed to the bathroom door. “Get Victoria out here. We’re getting both of them back to DC tonight. We’ll take two cars, and should be there before dark. I don’t want to destroy any evidence, so Christian, you and Casey take the tracking device and head to Matt’s office to see if we can buy some time. Turn the damn thing over to his guys.”

  Matt was gently knocking on the bathroom door while he and Casey began to compare his backpack of guns to the military grade rifles his army-trained sniper brother had brought in his SUV. “She must be pretty upset,” said Matt gently. “I can’t even get her to answer me.”

  “Damn,” Cruz swore softly under his breath. Betrayal at this level was going to be hard, but the need to get her to safety trumped any immediate comforting. He walked to the door and willed his tone to sound calm. “Victoria, you need to open the door. We’re going to move you, tonight. Now.”

  The empty silence was the single most terrifying experience of his life. He pushed his shoulder into the frame, two, three times before a splintering of wood ceded the barrier, but the bathroom was empty, a gentle breeze from the open window blowing the soft white curtain in an endless circle over the soaking tub. He slammed his fist into the drywall out of sheer frustration, the sheetrock breaking instead of the bones in his hand. “Fuck,” he roared. “She’s bolted.”

  Taking angry steps toward Amanda, his fists remained clenched, but both of the twins stepped between them, arms out to hold Cruz at bay. “Easy, Alec,” said Christian softly.

  “I’m not going to hurt her,” he growled. “Tell me what the fuck you know. Is King in New York?”

  “I... I don’t know,” she whimpered. “Really. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.”

  “Get the cars,” said Matt. “She can’t have gone far, and there’s really only one way out of here before you get down to the lake road.”

  “There’s got to be miles of trails out there,” said Casey. “Maybe she just went for a walk to cool off.”

  Cruz looked around the cabin, willing himself to be calm. “She went for civilization,” he said a matter-of-factly. “She’s a city girl, and she’d never go into the woods alone. We have three cars, let’s spread out.”

  “What about her?” said Matt, pointing to Amanda. “I’m not comfortable tying a woman up in a cabin with nobody to watch her. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m comfortable leaving her alone until we understand exactly what the hell is going on with these guys, no matter what she did.”

  “Put her in one of the cars,” said Cruz. “But it sure as fuck better not be the one I’m in.”

  The tires on all three cars kicked up a dust storm, speeding down the long driveway and sending loose gravel shooting behind them until they hit the hard pavement skirting the lake, Matt turned to the south and Christian’s SUV with both twins and Amanda headed north.

  Cruz stayed at the end of the driveway for an extra second to think logically rather than act emotionally. Victoria was predictable. She’d go toward the lights from the little town, never toward the unknown. Turning to the left, he quickly caught up to the twins, but about two miles ahead would be a road to the west, and he’d send his brothers in that direction while he continued toward town. She couldn’t have gotten far on foot.

  But they only got about a mile down the road when a frantic middle-aged woman walking a small, ugly terrier flagged them down, and both cars pulled over. “Thank god you stopped. I tried stopping a half dozen cars, but they all drove past me!” she shouted over the barking dog. “They pulled a girl into a white van with Massachusetts plates. She was screaming, and they shot at me, but I ran into the woods. I don’t have my phone, but nobody else would stop, and I didn’t know what to do.”

  She wasn’t done speaking before Cruz shot the stolen truck back toward the road. “Call Matt,” he shouted to the twins. “Turn him around. And call 911. Tell them who she is and get a helicopter in the air.”

  With Christian on his six, he pushed well past the speed limit on the two-lane road, passing cars on blind corners with the hope the kidnappers were moving slowly to avoid attention, but he didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when he approached a van matching the woman’s description. Extricating Victoria from this wasn’t going to be easy, but there was no way that he was going to let them take her out of his sight, and he only had a few seconds’ advantage before they made him in their rearview mirror.

  Knowing his brothers would follow, he waited until a straight stretch of road appeared in front of him, and passed the van. Like a carefully planned attack, he pulled sharply back into the northbound lane, but slammed on his brakes so quickly that he was rear-ended, and Christian’s SUV rammed the van from behind. The screeching metal tore his heart for fear she’d been hurt in the crash, but he stayed focused on his goal.

  Three Cruz brothers jumped from their cars with the twins shouting for Amanda to drop to the floor. Guns drawn, including Casey’s long range rifle, the men took aim at the van, using their cars as a shield. Cruz screamed, “Federal agent. Put your fucking guns down. Let her go!”

  The back door of the van opened, and Victoria was roughly pushed ahead of the same asshole who’d tried to take her back in Delaware, his grip firmly around her waist to pull her close to his chest. “Back off, Cruz,” he shouted. “Or I’ll shoot her right now. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  Nobody spoke, but the plan was as clearly defined as if they’d plotted it for hours. Without hesitation, Cruz dropped his weapon and held out his hands to show his cooperation and keep the immediate focus away from his brothers. “Just let her go, man,” he said softly. “She’s all we want.”

  But he instinctively knew that Casey was still moving with the M24 sniper rifle that represented his many army combat medals. Despite his faith in Casey’s marksmanship, the high stakes fed his fear, burning a hole in his stomach that was destined to remain with him for the rest of his life. He never took his gaze off of Victoria’s raw terror, but his job was to protect her, no matter what. “Close your eyes, Victoria,” he said softly.

  She obeyed without question as Casey’s gun exploded, and the assailant twisted in a contorted agony, spewing his life’s blood across Victoria’s clothing before dropping to the ground with a fatal head wound. She was unnaturally silent, but started to run toward Cruz at the same time he moved toward her. The longest few seconds of his life passed before he embraced her, but he remained on edge, looking for the next threat in the rapidly evolving drama when he saw the gun from the driver’s side of the van.

  But there was no time draw his second gun or retrieve his service revolver from the ground. He didn’t even have time to shout, resorting instead to the instincts that he’d nurtured since the day he’d met her. Twisting his body, he put himself between her and the bullet, pulling her into his arms and putting his back to the danger. Hitting him simultaneously with the sound of a large caliber handgun, the pain tore through his shoulder, searing, burning, and rendering his arm useless when a second slug hit the bulletproof vest and knocked the breath from his lungs and both of them to the ground.

  The third, fourth, and fifth shots, however, came from the direction of his brothers, and he knew that they hadn’t missed their target. He wanted to move, to look her over carefully for physical and emotional w
ounds and hold her until he stopped shaking, but the pain won, and he slumped forward.

  “Clear,” shouted Christian, searching the van. “That’s it.”

  Victoria wiggled underneath him, before rolling him to his back. “He’s bleeding!” she shouted. Packing her hand against the blood now staining his shoulder, she cried, “You aren’t on the clock, stupid. You aren’t supposed to be taking a bullet for me.”

  “My back hurts like fuck,” whispered Cruz, trying to find a little more strength as Christian got to his side. “I think he got me there too. How’s my shoulder?”

  “Just a little flesh wound,” said Christian, but his serious tone didn’t match the gentle teasing. Nudging Victoria aside, he slipped off his own t-shirt and applied heavy pressure to Cruz’s shoulder. More strong hands cut his shirt and the bulletproof vest before they rolled him gently to his side. “Yep, shot in the back by the bad guys, buddy,” added his brother. “Kind of a cliché, but no penetration. The vest displaced the impact. It’s going to leave a little mark, though, so hang in there, bro. Help is on the way.”

  “Penetration... that’s a funny word,” Cruz said weakly. “But you make it sound like a Band-Aid is going to fix this.”

  “Only if it’s a pretty pink princess one,” deadpanned the twin, switching out the blood-soaked shirt for a clean one.

  A second vehicle pulled into the clearing with a screech of tires; Matt, he deduced after a second or two. Sirens. Maybe from the north, but his brother’s voice came from a distant place. He couldn’t quite figure out what he was saying, using his strength to fight the gray shadows threatening to engulf his senses.

  “How much fucking blood do you have in there, Alec,” said Casey in frustration, still applying pressure to his shoulder. “I’m running out of shirts.”