McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two

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McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two Page 23

by Reily Garrett


  The single tap through their earbuds signaled Matt and dogs together and uninjured. So far, the evolving strategy worked.

  In silent expectation, Luc and Billy picked their way through the brush. The fact Billy followed instead of taking point restored a bit of self-esteem.

  Briars snagged their jackets and jeans to hinder Luc’s less-than-stealthy trek to close the distance. The deeper forest consisted of murky shapes and a malicious pause waiting for a hail of flesh-ripping bullets that never came. The epiphany of realizing how much he stood to lose urged caution.

  Low, heavy clouds and a cold breeze forewarned of precipitation to come. If the attack had been delayed until snowfall, decreased visibility would have worked against them.

  With Hoover and Leyna’s guidance, Luc and Billy crept forward until joining with the eldest brother, the dogs instinctively adhering to pack mentality. Labyrinthine branches overhead patterned Matt’s face in shades of frustration and impatience. As the one who had guided and helped shape each sibling, his shoulders carried the most weight.

  “I’m gonna shoot Ethan myself. Should’ve known he’d do that.” Damien sat at his master’s side while Hoover’s restraint required Billy’s light touch on her back.

  “Might’ve been Lexi. She’s trained the dogs well.” Luc scratched Leyna behind her ears. “We each take a dog, keep them quiet as possible.”

  “Leyna’s white, and will make her a target. You’re on rear guard, Luc.” Matt ordered.

  From the north side, the cannonade continued. The throaty thump from the fed’s .45 caliber distinguished itself from Ethan’s nonissue .50 caliber boom.

  “I count three distinct intruders around the front.” Billy’s arched brow received nods from each brother. “Once we’re around the side and mark their spots, Luc can take down the closest target while Matt and I go deeper and circle behind them. We’ll stay wide to avoid cross-fire.”

  Another rush of adrenaline surged to keep Luc’s heart racing. Despite the sharp cracks of deadly intent, he concentrated on memorizing each weapon’s sound and would pin each to its target once in position.

  His earbud amplified the steady thrum of blood rushing in his ears, heard as an ever-increasing roar. “By now, they have to figure some of us made it out and have a guess at our numbers, minus the feds.”

  “Doesn’t matter, we’ll have better position. We’ll work our way around the side before we let the furballs loose. If they bark, they’ll draw our guests’ fire. Be ready to take the shits down.” Matt turned and edged at an angle deeper into the woods, taking Damien with him.

  Billy set out with Hoover while Luc took Leyna on an alternate path. Of the three dogs, Leyna was the unknown variable when it came to training. Luc gave his brothers a wide berth. If his dog gave away his position, they’d stand out more so than his brothers.

  An increased hail of firepower covered the noise of snapping twigs underfoot but not the thin whine from the dog’s throat. Luc tightened his grip when Leyna tried to surge forward. Regardless of her social etiquette and obedience training, she hadn’t experienced firefights.

  He’d have little hope of containing her once he started firing, needing full concentration on his target. The fact his furball friend pulled toward the enemy heightened his anxiety. Megan said she doesn’t like guns. Panting breaths and thin whines punctuated her straining forward. When he’d first broken the glass to enter his cabin, the dog had latched onto his hand. He didn’t want Megan’s best friend injured, again. Due to her color alone, she should’ve been kept inside.

  Once opposite the cabin’s gable end, Luc took cover behind a large oak, trying to pinpoint his mark while his brothers moved into position. From his angled vantage point, he noted cleared yard represented most of the distance between him and the enemy. Muzzle flash from three distinct points marked their positions. Locking the reference in a mental template, he waited for his brother’s signal.

  Deeper in the woods, heavy rustling indicated Hoover’s surge forward and negated Billy’s stealth developed over years of practice and training.

  The closest assailant fired in the animal’s direction but failed to stop the telltale flutter of leaves from the swift passage.

  A slight gradient offered Luc a superior viewpoint in defining his adversary’s location. They had spread out across the front at the wood’s edge. Two southpaws identified by muzzle flash took refuge behind large tree trunks. Left-handed meant more exposure to Luc. The third took shelter among close-standing pines.

  With Luc’s concentration focused on the assault, he couldn’t keep Leyna quiet. The dog twisted free in a surge of fury across the open ground before weaving a path into the woods. Her short stature and rapid strides made her a difficult mark to hit.

  If Luc waited, the closest prick would shoot Leyna. Murmuring over the mic, he whispered, “Long shot, but I can do it.” The dog faced three near misses as she closed the distance. His gap of seventy-five yards meant adjusting for height and drop-off.

  The closest shooter alternated his focus between the cabin and Leyna’s snarled warnings. Breaking cover to catch a glimpse of the dog’s approach worked to Luc’s advantage.

  Controlled breathing narrowed Luc’s focus to a slow increase in trigger pressure. His mind’s eye replayed Millner falling in slow motion, his fading gaze locked onto his partner. The silent accusation of not protecting his back, known but not spoken, bleached from gray eyes until soulless, glassy orbs stared into oblivion.

  His first shot hit the intruder in the upper chest. Blood spray arced over evergreen boughs behind him as he flung out his arms and bucked sideways into the tree trunk.

  “He’s down, can’t confirm out. First target without vest.” The shot had dropped a bit more than anticipated. Luc took a deep breath. One down, at least two to go. He could no longer spot the dog; her rustling had stopped. She’s searching for her next objective or the other dogs. Closer scrutiny failed to reveal a flash of white fur.

  “Mike? You hit?” Alarm linked with anger a hundred yards away before the killer spewed more deadly projectiles toward the cabin.

  Cumulative blunders marked the assailants as hired muscle, expendable. Otherwise, at least one McAllister would already be dead.

  “Mike!”

  A heartbeat of quiet.

  “Pendle, it’s just the two of us left.” The assured tone that earlier demanded Megan’s surrender, now held uncertainty. “What should we do?”

  “We fight, damn it.” The gravelly answer lacked confidence. “We can’t go back without the bitch.” To punctuate his words, the third gunman turned his weapon and fired randomly in the woods.

  Luc marked their positions, then made his way closer to the nearest threat, weaving around the limbs of lightly scented ponderosa pines, hemlock and firs dotting the woods.

  “Damn it. I can’t get a bead on the fucking dogs.” Snarling and deep-chested growls characterized the canine threat.

  “Leyna, Hoover, no!” The next growl, decidedly human, gave away Billy’s position. Telltale tossing of evergreen branches delineated the dogs’ escape and zigzag path around saplings and evergreens. The sound of their charge filled the air.

  A man’s shrill scream imbued with fear and rage.

  Luc knew neither dog would hesitate to attack and sent up a silent prayer for their safety. A furious shout and frantic rustling defined the struggle against an unexpected enemy.

  A single shot followed a high-pitched scream.

  A dog’s yelp indicated the intruder’s bullet found its mark just as canine growls and snarls characterized a renewed thirst for vengeance.

  With the fight taking place on the ground, there was no opportunity for a shot. Luc crashed through thicket and briar, heedless of the noise and praying he reached the confrontation before another shot fired.

  Forsaking stealth, Billy plunged forward, several near misses marking his path. His black chambray shirt contrasted patches of green, seen in glimpses between trees. Whic
h means Matt will stay to his right and then converge.

  A momentary pause before Billy’s weapon barked its answer, then a whispered confirmation, “Leyna’s shot in the rump. Hoover’s okay, tango’s down.”

  “Pendle?” A new fervor reeking of fear sliced the air.

  Apparently, power-mad scientists and foreign assassins equaled a distant threat in the face of a united front of McAllisters and their dogs.

  “Pendle! Answer me.”

  With the other gunmen down and the last thug not answering, the aural assault dimmed as Luc zeroed in on the last target. “He’s too far. I’ve got no shot.”

  From inside the cabin, two pistols barked in one direction. Each thud marked a large pine, while return fire continued for several rounds with increasing space between each.

  The tide of battle had turned, and the last assassin ceased fire. Snapping branches and grunts from thorny brambles being swept aside sketched his path down the mountain. Occasional random shots fired backward was a poor attempt to provide cover but emphasized his route.

  Both Billy and Matt’s weapons answered in response, yet neither had a clear shot through the woods.

  In the heat of battle, Luc hadn’t tracked the number of guns firing from inside the cabin. Hindsight dictated only two guns answered the assault. Someone must be hit. He swallowed hard, thinking that Ethan should’ve been safer inside. With renewed haste, he made his way toward Matt and Billy. “I’ve checked the other dirtbags. One’s dead, one unconscious and unarmed. The last bastard must know he’s alone against a greater number. You guys get him?”

  “No.” Billy and Matt retorted.

  “Everyone intact?” Ethan’s voice carried an unfamiliar strain.

  “Checking on the dogs.” Crossing a small ravine, Luc rushed to his brothers’ position. Matt held pressure with a makeshift bandage on Leyna’s rump. Billy’s swift exam of Hoover and Damien ended with a murmured denial of injury.

  “If we let the last prick go, he might report back to Morfran before we’re out of here.” Luc didn’t like the idea of leaving themselves open to ambush during descent.

  Matt cursed. “Billy, Damien, and I will track him. You take Leyna and Hoover, check on the others inside. I think we have a man down. We’ll collect the dead and leave them in the cabin for the feds to deal with as they see fit.”

  “Be careful. These bastards could have reinforcements on the way as we speak.” Luc scooped Leyna up and headed back, calling Hoover to heel.

  The minute he stepped inside the door, Megan threw her arms around him and Leyna to pull them tight.

  “Anybody hurt in here?” Mumbled against her lips, the words he wanted desperately to say wouldn’t come until he’d secured his family.

  “Kilregard’s grazed in the shoulder. I stopped the bleeding. He’ll be fine.” Megan stepped back and guided Luc to settle Leyna on the bed.

  Ethan thumped him on the back before asking, “Matt and Billy at least wing the last prick?”

  “Dunno, and thanks for sending the civilian canine unit.” Luc couldn’t chastise Megan for letting Leyna out with the other dogs. Her heart was in the right place, even if her logic lacked substance.

  Despite the tremble in her cooing reassurance, Megan retained steady hands while assessing the wound. “I’m gonna have to go in to take the bullet out.” She paused before looking back to Luc. “What about the last prick?”

  “Matt and Billy are tracking him.” Luc looked to his brother. “You count six? Three out back and three in front?”

  “Yeah. Same count the feds made.” Ethan glanced over at Metger, who nodded in agreement.

  “We need to light out as soon as your brothers return. We’ll regroup at a safe house before raiding ClickChip.” Kilregard held pressure over his makeshift bandage. “If he’s up to it, it might help if Caden joined us. You men work well as a unit and I don’t have time to get a team up to speed.”

  On Matt and Billy’s return, Lucas took a deep breath. “Well?”

  “It’s finished. He didn’t leave us a choice.” Matt’s solemn answer alluded to the burden on his shoulders. “He’s at the bottom of the ravine. We couldn’t take the time to carry him back.”

  A month ago, if someone had asked Luc to reference his biggest worry, his retort would’ve included work and the rest of his life. Considering what they’d just survived and planned to do during the upcoming night, he wondered about the extent of that life.

  Chapter Thirty

  Kilregard’s idea of a safe house met the McAllisters’ approval at first site. Located in the middle of a 300-acre farm, its distance to the city made it more appealing. Kilregard advised the owners were on vacation for the holidays.

  By unspoken agreement, Luc and Megan shared a bedroom to get a few hours’ sleep before the night’s mission. Now, he took in the pastoral views from the second story of the farmhouse.

  He had to grind his teeth to prevent life-altering words from slipping past his lips. In all his experience, he was accustomed to women gravitating toward him, yet he’d never considered their worth beyond a superficial need, nor valued their deeper emotions.

  Most of his associations had been shallow, the woman’s eyes widening with excitement when asking about the dangerous details of undercover assignments. There had never been a true connection, one involving a bond that would precipitate a different response, like concern for his existence. It had never mattered. I’ve never been marriage material.

  For once, everything about a woman held him in thrall, the way Megan had first offered a hug despite his open animosity, her feigned exhaustion when he needed a break, and her concern for others she didn’t even know. He would never find another Megan.

  “You’re awful quiet again.” Megan sat up on the bed.

  Leyna hobbled up from her corner cushion and staggered to Lucas, who provided the obligatory chest rub. “Lots to think about.” Turning back, he made up his mind. “Hey, furface. You’re looking better.”

  Thanks to Megan’s contacts, they’d commandeered a surgical room at a fellow veterinarian’s facility while the men maintained a perimeter guard. Megan had removed the slug from the dog’s rump with her normal precision. Unlike human operations, the surgical scar carried no bandage, which left a sizable area of shaved skin.

  “Time to visit Aunt Lexi, furface. I need to talk to your mom.” As if understanding, Leyna padded beside him out the door and down the hall to Ethan’s room.

  Mutual attraction didn’t provide confidence in the outcome of his next endeavor. Knowing he and Megan would enjoy the physical aspects of a relationship no longer sufficed. He’d found an equal that called him on his shit yet cared about his soul. He was 100 percent invested.

  Insistent snuffing from the other side of the door indicated Leyna had located her new friend. Of the five bedrooms, four were upstairs. Leyna stopped in front of Hoover and Lexi’s quarters.

  Three of his brothers, Lexi, and the two federal agents occupied the other rooms. Matt had claimed one sofa downstairs while Metger had taken the master bedroom downstairs.

  Luc ignored the rush of adrenaline that sent tingling sensations through his body. He wondered if Ethan had gone through the same experience when courting Lexi.

  A light tap on the doorjamb preceded the quiet opening.

  A bark of laughter erupted as Ethan’s open scrutiny conveyed his understanding the situation. Having close siblings always came with a cost. “So. It’s finally come to that, has it?”

  Lexi elbowed her man aside and urged Luc to enter. “Don’t mind him. You know he’s a cad.”

  After a brief plea for pup sitting that included a need to speak with Megan alone, Luc left Lexi in charge of Leyna, promising a doggy treat with gentle massage for the wounded canine along with the assurance the furball was in good hands.

  “Thanks, Lexi. She worries about her the way you do Hoover.”

  Beside her and grinning ear to ear, Ethan imparted his own encouragement. “Good luck w
ith your, uh, talk. You know we’re all rooting for you. And remember, this is an older house with little interior wall insulation.”

  “Thanks.” He wished his brother a root canal.

  After the gunfight and hobble down the mountain, pain in his leg throbbed in time with his pulse. Ignoring an increase in both along with the perspiration skimming his brow, he took his time in returning, categorically selecting and discarding each line of reasoning that came to mind. He had never been so sure of what he wanted yet uncertain on how to obtain it.

  No doubt Megan had felt the evidence of his desire when she’d snuggled back against him during their brief nap yet doubt and exhaustion had prevented him from showing her with his body what he couldn’t vocalize in appropriate words.

  He returned to find her sitting against the headboard with knees drawn up and arms wrapped around her legs. The click of his door closing signaled it was time to talk, but he didn’t know how or where to start.

  “You look serious. More so than usual.” A new wariness straightened her back.

  “I don’t like the idea of you coming with us tonight.”

  “Lexi’s coming, too.”

  “I don’t like that either, but that’s Ethan’s problem.”

  A double tap on the doorjamb heralded their surreal interlude almost over before it began. “One hour, guys.” Through the solid wood door, Matt’s edginess contaminated the atmosphere. “We’ve got sandwiches and water—if you want ’em.” Sounding like an apology, the reminder of their situation suggested it was time to face facts.

  “Thanks, Matt. Now go away.”

  A garbled curse was answered in kind.

  Striding to the bedside, Luc tugged Megan to stand, needing the strength derived from full-body contact to continue. Her long braid hung down her back, still damp from her shower and foiling his need to draw sustenance by threading his fingers through its length. Anxiety clawed at his belly, for the wrong words would end something he desperately wanted to explore.

  “Spit it out, Luc. You’re not one to mince words.”

 

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