Deadly Holidays

by Lisa Phillips

  But with Rachel now in danger, his tenuous hold on restraint was being tested. His faith was being tested. He wanted to walk down there, gun raised, and just shoot his way through whatever obstacles he faced. And he’d have done it, if he didn’t think David would put a bullet in Rachel’s head. Too many variables made the operation a tricky one. David had been trained as Steve had—to eliminate those variables as soon as they grew too out of control.

  The quickest way to do that would be to kill her.

  “I’m here to help,” Adrian said. “I know you don’t trust me—”

  Steve shook his head. “I just don’t know you. But if Megan vouches for you, and I figure she does since you two are together, then that’s good enough for me.”

  “So I get to stick by you just because I’m the unknown, then.”

  That worked for Steve. “My team functions well because we know each other. You, I’ve never been on an op with.”

  Adrian nodded. “That’s fair. I’m just here to help get Rachel back. Saving her is what we all want. Especially after what she’s been through.”

  “She didn’t need this,” Steve muttered as he stared at the dwellings and waited for some sign of movement. An indication as to what was happening.

  “That’s for sure.” Adrian blew out a breath. “Praying for her on the plane was good. But I’m ready to do more now.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  Prayer had been all they were able to do on the plane. Hours of waiting, what else was there to focus on than giving it all up to God and asking Him for wisdom? It had helped them not feel useless, like they weren’t doing anything.

  Now it was time for action.

  Steve keyed his radio. “Buckle up.”

  Mint replied, “Copy that. Ready.”

  Megan said, “Ready.”

  They all waited.

  Steve said, “Bradley?”

  He was ready to give the order to move. What was the former SEAL doing?

  “Hold.” Bradley’s one word was clipped and even with that Steve could hear the frustration in his tone.

  They all waited.

  A minute later, Bradley’s voice came over the comms. “Contact.”

  “Report.” Steve was already scanning the area with his binoculars. He saw the man walking before Bradley replied.

  “The vice president’s brother. Coming in from the southwest.”

  “Copy that.” Steve was watching him move. A confident stride, like he knew exactly where he was going. Blank face. No weapons visible, but his heavy coat could disguise a lot.

  The vice president’s brother stopped twenty feet from the dwellings.

  He called out, “I’m here, Sanders!”

  Bradley said, “I have a shot.”

  “Negative,” Steve replied. “Do not take that shot.” They probably all had an angle on the vice president’s brother, given he was standing out in the open. Bradley was the only one with a high-powered rifle that could fire the round far enough to cross the distance and hit the man with any kind of accuracy. But he was too close to the structure, and Steve didn’t want David retaliating by shooting Rachel.

  Steve palmed his Sig and said, “Close in. Fifty feet, under cover.”

  Adrian followed, finding his own spot to hide behind. They didn’t need to be seen.

  The material covering an opening to one of the riverside dwellings shifted. David moved so Steve could actually see his body and not just his head in the doorway. Someone else would have a better angle, maybe even one where they’d be able to see his face.

  “Bradley.” It came out before he really thought about it.

  His friend said, “No shot,” frustration even more evident in his tone now.

  David stuck a hand out, holding a weapon. He used it to wave the vice president’s brother inside. He wanted a meeting? Steve had figured he would just shoot the man. It was what he’d wanted to do. David evidently had other plans.

  If their theory tracked, he wanted both Steve and the vice president’s brother dead. And then he was going to disappear where anyone looking for the assassin who’d killed the vice president would never find him.

  The older man walked with a steady pace to the dwelling, then ducked his head to go inside. Why was he even here? Had the man really been lured by Rachel’s having been captured? That meant he had some kind of draw to her.

  Every way Steve spun that in his mind, it wasn’t good. Who knew what the hacker/blackmailer wanted with her. Whatever it was, Steve wouldn’t let it happen. No way. No how.

  “We need eyes in there.” He said it to himself, not airing his frustration over comms. They didn’t all need to be sucked under by his feeling powerless. Especially Bradley. It was a tie as to who wanted Rachel back more. But then it wasn’t a competition, either.

  Steve heard raised voices, but couldn’t make out what they said.

  A shot rang out. Light flashed in the gaps between the fabric and boards that made up the structure.

  A scream rang out. High and clear. A woman.

  Rachel.

  Steve got up and started running. “Move in. Now!”

  **

  Rachel sucked in a breath and touched her thigh, either side of the gunshot wound. Her head swam, and she swayed to the side before she caught herself. Put pressure on it, right? She could hardly see straight, let alone find something to push on the wound.

  The thought made bile rise in her throat. She tried to think past the pain.

  David had shot her.

  The vice president’s brother roared. He rushed toward the gunman and barreled into him. They hit the ground, shaking the entire house. Someone’s home. And it was going to come down right on top of them.

  Rachel shifted backwards so she could get as far away from them as possible. Black spots filled her vision and she gritted her teeth. She left a smear of blood. Had the bullet gone through her leg? Wasn’t that important to know?

  David and the vice president’s brother rolled around on the floor.

  Her back hit the wall, and she exhaled. It came out as a pained whimper that sounded horrible to her own ears. Where was everyone? She needed help. Bradley. Mint. Adrian. She would even take Steve, if he was willing to come.

  Words tumbled from her mouth, a desperate prayer for help. She didn’t want to promise God she would be one of His children just so He would get her out of here. But she wanted to. It was a temptation she wasn’t sure she could withstand.

  The two men rolled close enough they hit her leg. Rachel cried out. She heard something outside, but didn’t know what it was. Help? The two men in here didn’t seem to notice, so maybe she was just kidding herself. Filling the last moments of her life before she bled out onto the dirt in Venezuela with wishful thinking.

  The gun went off.

  Her whole body flinched, and she let out another cry. David’s body went limp. The vice president’s brother was still for a moment, and then he started to shove at David to get the dead man off him.

  “Rachel!” The cry came from outside.

  She knew that voice. “Steve!” He was here? Gratefulness rushed through her, and for a moment her leg didn’t hurt so badly. She was going to be rescued.

  The vice president’s brother rolled to sit up. He lifted the gun and pointed it at the door. Before she could scream, “No,” or warn them in some way, he pulled the trigger.

  A barrage of shots. So many. Too many for her to count. She waited for the gun to click empty. It didn’t. He shot holes in the material that covered the door.

  The vice president’s brother stopped firing.

  Silence.

  She wanted to scream. To call out and ask if Steve was alive. Surely he’d make some kind of noise if he was. Right?

  A whimper crawled up her throat. Steve. Had he come all this way, to rescue her, only to die? Tears rolled down her face.

  Harlem Anderson clambered to his feet and looked around. Figuring out what to do? Rachel opened her mouth to s
cream for help.

  He pointed the gun at her. “Quiet.”

  She swallowed. The pain in her leg made her thoughts stutter until she couldn’t string two things together.

  From outside the call came. “This is the FBI.” Adrian’s voice rang out, though she could hear an edge of nervousness. “Come out with your hands up and surrender.”

  The vice president’s brother climbed to his feet. He moved to the doorway and called out, “I’ll kill her if you come near us!”

  “There’s no way you get out alive if you do that.” Bradley.

  Emotion rolled through her. Just a rush of feeling that overwhelmed Rachel.

  They had come for her. God had brought them here.

  Thank You.

  Peace washed over her, despite the fact she was still in a hostage situation. She looked around, trying to figure out if there was a way to do something.

  The Bible was great and all, and she would read it later, but it wouldn’t help her against a crazy man with a gun. Right? She kept looking around. David’s body wasn’t something she wanted to look at. She forced herself to do it anyway.

  Jacket. Cargo pants. She’d seen him stuff things in there. One pant leg was hiked up. Strapped to his ankle was a revolver.

  Rachel had always been purposely neutral on the subject of gun control. Bradley had taught her how to use them to defend herself and made sure she had one at home. Now she wasn’t so sure. She’d never used one on a person, only at the range.

  Could she do it now, fire a gun with the intent to kill? It was easy to preach about her God-given rights—or government-given anyway—but this wasn’t talk. This was action. Like when she’d stabbed that man, defending herself. When push came to shove, and she had to aim at something other than a paper target, could she do it?

  Pushing aside the fear, she decided to trust what her brother had instilled in her. The drive to save the people she loved that had steered them all here. For her.

  If she didn’t do this, then the team could get hurt.

  The people she cared about most.

  Her family.

  She shuffled herself across the floor, dragging her injured leg. Teeth gritted, she held back what she wanted to say. It was impossible to do so silently, but she also shouldn’t let on what she was doing. Every breath she pushed out she used to shove the pain from the forefront of her mind. She got close enough to reach the gun strapped to David’s ankle.

  But the vice president’s brother saw her.

  She froze.

  He figured out what she was doing. Started to lift his gun.

  Rachel pulled the strap and tugged the revolver free. She swung it around, already firing. Two bullets punched holes in the wall. The third hit him. She kept firing.

  He’d already pulled the trigger on David’s other gun.

  It hit her, dead center.

  Her entire body jolted. Rachel blinked up at the ceiling. Tried to figure out what had happened. Several people were yelling. She was lying on her back. Her entire body a mass of pain. Damp under her fingers, warm and wet.

  There was a rush of feet, and someone dropped to their knees beside her. Too close. She moaned, unable to keep the pain inside.

  A heavy weight landed on her chest and pain tore through her again. He was pushing on her chest. “Why did you do that?” Bradley’s face swam in front of her. “Why, Rach?”

  She drifted in and out. “Help.” They weren’t the only ones who could save the day. She wasn’t going to be a victim, not anymore.

  Someone said, “He’s down.”

  “She needs a chopper. Now.”

  Rachel couldn’t tell the voices apart. Consciousness was like trying to catch a snowflake. Cold. She was so cold. It moved through her with a shudder. Pain was like a knife. She was jostled and had to blink against the bright sun.

  Wasn’t it December in DC? She should be cold. Instead, sweat ran down her face.

  “We’re losing her!”

  She didn’t want him to sound so scared. “Steve.”

  “I’m here.” Hands touched her face. “I’m right here, Rach.”

  “K.” Love you. She did and whether he returned that feeling or not she didn’t know. He’d never said anything. But she’d thought…

  Rachel was lifted. Pain exploded everywhere.

  The world went black.

  Chapter 23

  Three days. That was how long Rachel had been in and out of consciousness. Through a plane ride back to the naval hospital at Bethesda and two more surgeries after the rush of stabilizing her in Venezuela. The times she had been awake, she’d been so out of it on the meds they’d given her, that she made no sense.

  Three days thinking about what she’d said. Wondering if it meant something more than a spur of the moment throw-away comment when she thought she was going to die.

  Alexis walked into the waiting area. Steve stood as she approached, unable to get an update on how Rachel was from the look on her face.

  The whole group huddled around. Megan and her mom, Adrian close by them. Mint and Emma. Bradley set aside his tiny paper cup of hospital coffee. “Lex?”

  Alexis glanced at her husband, then at the rest of them. “She’s awake.”

  Bradley made a move toward the doorway. Alexis held up her hand. “She’s asking for Steve.”

  “I’m her brother.”

  Someone snorted.

  Alexis shrugged, a guilty look on her face. “Sorry.”

  Bradley shot a nasty look at Steve, which he ignored. She really wanted to speak to him? He moved to where Alexis stood, between him and the door. He stopped beside her. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s coherent.” Alexis made a face. “No more loopy Rachel, thank goodness.”

  He nodded. Made his way to the room. Secret Service agents flanked the door. She was out of danger, the threat neutralized, thanks to her. She’d killed Harlem Anderson. David was dead. Still, they took their job protecting her seriously, and he was grateful for their presence.

  He’d had hardly any sleep worrying about her. Thankfully Megan’s mother had offered to check on Mrs. Cromwell. How she found out about the SAC’s family situation he didn’t know, but someone had told her.

  Steve tapped on the door.

  “Come in.”

  Her voice was soft. He let himself in and closed the door behind him. Stood there, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now.

  “Are you going to stare at me all day?”

  Steve didn’t move. “How is it you look beautiful after getting shot only a few days ago?”

  She smiled. Her skin was still a little pale. She usually had more color than this. But he hadn’t lied. She did look beautiful. Rachel held out her hand. “Come here.”

  Love you.

  He moved to her. Took her hand, which she used to tug him to sit on the side of the bed. “Your leg.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He frowned. She didn’t let go of his hand, just held it tight in hers.

  “You came to save me.”

  “Seems like you saved yourself.” His whole world had flipped upside down hearing those gunshots. They hadn’t been able to breach the dwelling until it stopped. A lifetime that stretched out in those few seconds before he ran in and saw all the blood.

  Steve shut his eyes and sucked in a full, cleansing breath.

  “It’s over now.”

  He nodded, opened his eyes and looked at her. “You’re all right.”

  “You aren’t in jail.”

  Like that was even a factor. He didn’t care. “You can go back to your life.”

  She made a face he didn’t understand, then said, “Double Down is safe.”

  “For now,” he said. “The blackmailer is dead.” Along with everyone he’d worked with as an agent for the CIA. Not a great legacy, nothing but pain and death. Why was Steve the only one still standing, not dead or in jail?

  “Was it the vice president, or his brother?”

/>   “Both, from what Adrian has been able to figure out. The FBI found the motel room where the vice president’s brother had been staying. Apparently there was quite the computer set-up, so they’ve concluded he was the hacker and computer genius, as well as part of masterminding the blackmailing scheme.”

  Steve sighed. “The vice president’s wife claims she had no knowledge of what they were doing or planning. Who knows if the VP himself was the brains behind it, or if his brother orchestrated the whole thing? He isn’t around to explain himself. Neither of them are. And that St. Germaine guy is still in the wind.

  “But what we do have is all kinds of people coming forward to share their stories. Seems like there were more victims than anyone knew about. People who didn’t want to admit what they’d done, so they never told anyone they’d been targeted.”

  Rachel made a face. “Lucky me, mine got plastered all over everywhere.”

  She and Alexis had released the video of her themselves, something which had begun this whole thing for Double Down. He’d watched it, thinking like everyone else did that it had been Alexis. He’d felt for them both.

  Now that he knew it was Rachel… Steve didn’t want to view her as weak or a victim. Not when she’d proven to them all, and to the world, that she was strong.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  She blinked.

  “I mean that. Really.”

  “I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”

  He shook his head. “No way I would do that. I respect you far too much to lead you on or tell you an untruth.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell. “Right.”

  “That’s why I was glad when Alexis said you wanted to speak to me. Because there are some things I’d like to say to you.”

  Her look turned cautious, as though she thought she might have to protect herself from getting hurt.

  “I’m messing this up.” He sighed. “Totally out of practice. In the sense that I’ve never actually done this before. Forty-three years, and I’ve never in my life told a woman that I love her.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “It’s true.”

  “I—”