by Wylder Stone
“You better not fucking shoot me,” Tayler warned, nodding to the gun Trent had drawn. “You don’t have a badge, so if you discharge your weapon, it better be clean.”
“You taught me how to use it…We’re all good.” Trent, a trained EMT, said.
“Will you two shut up?” said a slight voice from behind them. They each turned to find Billie James. A firefighter, tomboy, and one who didn’t take shit from anyone taking up the rear with a small handgun front and center, Billie was petite, but didn’t let it stop her. Tayler gave her a foul look, but before he could protest, Billie chimed in, “Don’t even, Tayler. You taught me, too. Tyson is being handled – I’m not needed over there. I’m with you.”
She cut him off again, and nodded her head toward Trent, “You told me I shoot better than this asshole…I’m going!”
Trent’s jaw dropped, and he glanced at Tayler with a questioning look. Tayler looked between the two before nodding his head in agreement with Billie.
“Okay,” Tayler said. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told…”
Billie nodded. “Christ! Do you always talk this much? Only shoot the bad ones. Don’t screw up. Got it! Now let’s find Bec before it’s too late,” Billie concluded nudging the two men ahead.
Being such a small town with limited funding, they didn’t have a separate search and rescue unit. Their first responders made up the volunteer based team – each of them were part of said team. Their training in such paid off for them as they worked completely in sync, clearing the scene down to the lake and back around. They didn’t find Cesar…or Becca.
24
Owen arrived on scene and had done a thorough search with both agents from Elite Force and his agency. He returned to the front of the house where Tyson had come to and everyone was gathered, waiting for information. Owen met them wearing a sour scowl on his face, anger radiating. Tayler read him like a book, knowing full well where his anger rooted from—he’d found his men who had been assigned to that location. All dead.
“There isn’t much here. We have small blood spatter there.” Tayler pointed at the porch steps behind him. “May have a small trail that direction headed toward the woods, but it only goes a few feet.”
“Christ!” Owen spat.
“What happened, Owen? You said she was safe with eyes on her at all times!” Tyson accused, his voice full of anger. “Where were those eyes? Why did Perez himself walk right up to us? How did half a dozen or more assholes get this close? They fucking have her, man…” His voice cracked, choking on his last words at barely a whisper. “They have her.”
“I’m sorry, Ty. We’ll get her back,” Owen said, full of sympathy. “Somehow they had the spin on us – three men dead. No struggle at all from what we can tell. That only means one thing.”
“Inside job,” Tayler delivered firmly rather than as a question.
“Shit. Any idea who?” Leslie asked.
“Three men dead on a four-man team…pretty good idea that it’s the missing fourth man,” Owen concluded.
“So we’ve had a traitor trailing us, on my property, in my home this whole time. Fucking great. Now they’re one step ahead. How do we catch up?” Tyson asked, ready to move on to what was really important.
Owen excused himself when group arrived back from a preliminary search. Their voices were out of range, but body language and hand gestures indicated their interest was in the trees surrounding the lake. Saying they took her through the woods was like saying a bar has alcohol. It was obvious. It was the only way to get out of there, unseen. Driving out meant they would have passed everyone on the road as they raced to Tyson’s house.
Tyson’s normally well-mannered animals were back to making a ruckus inside. When one of the ladies went inside to check on them and tend to a possibly injured pet, one pet in particular shot out and went straight for Tyson. Charlie, his three-legged German Shephard, whined, whimpered, and even tugged at Tyson’s pant leg.
Tyson assumed the animal was upset because he had become quite fond of Becca and just watched something horrific surrounding her. Leslie and Tayler, however, saw something different. They remembered the explosion at Becca’s house weeks earlier. Charlie had been staying with her, and once rescued, he took off to the woods, exhibiting the same behavior.
Leslie and Tayler followed, finding evidence that someone had most definitely been there, but Charlie lost his trail. Perhaps, this was Charlie trying to lead them again. They filled Tyson in, Owen pausing to listen in.
“The night of the fire…he took off toward the woods, wouldn’t listen or stop. Got a ways in and lost whatever he was chasing,” Tayler shared.
“Sounds like an episode of Lassie.” Sarcasm slid from Tyson’s words – his animals were like family to him so his demeanor was completely out of character, understandably so.
“No, well…sort of. What if he saw their direction or has a scent?” Leslie questioned. “What else have we got at the moment?”
“He does have it bad for Becca, follows her everywhere. But he isn’t a blood hound.” Tyson crouched down, holding his dog’s head in hands, scratching his ears and asked him, “Do you know something, boy?”
“We use dogs all of the time. They have a keen sense for this shit,” Owen interrupted. “That dog is trying to pull you to the north woods, and that’s where the trail of blood points. I’m sending a team southeast, and they will work their way around meeting back up with us on the north side. It doesn’t hurt to take the dog.”
Tyson rushed inside the house and returned with a loaded gun, sliding an extra magazine in his waistband. He called for Charlie who led the way down to the lakeshore, headed toward the flock of trees resting behind Becca’s house to the north where they lost the blood trail.
Though Owen had plenty of agents on the case, the Bear Springs friends insisted on going, too. Becca was one of their own, and they weren’t standing down. Owen hoped and prayed this didn’t backfire on any of them. Cesar was that fucking crazy.
Charlie led them deep into the dark woods, moonlight the only light to chase. Owen was scattering his men in various directions, every so often, into the woods. The dog hesitated a few times, suggesting he was picking up the scent from Perez’s posse from every direction. That suggested that Cesar and his guys were everywhere, but he locked in on the scent he wanted to track the most and continued on, leading them the direction they all hoped to find Becca.
A light came into view a quarter mile or so ahead of them. Charlie sat and stared at what appeared to be an old hunting or forest service cabin with overgrown surroundings. The team crouched low while Owen delivered the coordinates and orders into his comms for the spread out team to locate them. Movement from inside the structure cast shadows through the dark, dirt-stained windows. This had to be where they were, where Becca was, given the short head start. They had probably been here all along, watching and plotting. A loud rumble in the distance caught their attention – cars, several, headed their way.
“He’s leaving. We’ve got to go in now!” Tyson panicked.
“Not yet. My people are nearly in position, and we’ll have them surrounded,” Owen replied. “They won’t get out. We react to fast, they take off before we’re ready.”
“They get her in a car, and we won’t see her again. We need to go now. There can’t be but a dozen or so in there,” Tyson negotiated.
“Stand down, Tyson! You’ll get her killed! You hear me? Do I need to place you under arrest?” Owen threatened. “We do this the right way. No one who matters gets hurt. You got me?”
Tyson begrudgingly listened.
Four SUVs in various dark colors rolled to a stop in front of the structure, blocking half from the team’s view. The front door was still visible, allowing them to see three men, each heavily armed, taking their post to secure the area. Owen continued to rattle off information to his team in some sort of code while the rest watched, keeping track of what and who was in front of them.
Each drive
r remained in the vehicles with them running, confirming the idea that they were taking off with their bargaining chip along for the torturous ride. Patience paid off when more activity approached the doorway.
Four men disbursed, one to each vehicle, opening the rear door. Finally, the major players found their way out of the dilapidated building. Owen’s suspicions were confirmed when his missing man, Mark Thomas, exited first with Becca, bound, blindfolded, and gagged in his tight grip. Perez was the last to exit – letting everyone ahead take the possible bullet waiting in the distance. There they all stood, only yards away.
“My team has a clear path from the back. They swept six men, giving them access from the rear. I have eyes out here.” He pointed to his left. “Snipers, ready to disable the vehicles…tires first, then drivers if need be. They aren’t leaving.”
“How do we get her? When do I grab her?” Tyson inquired.
“You don’t, man. You stay right here. We bring her to you.” Owen put his hand on Tyson’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, trying to assure him they had this under control.
“We have the element of surprise this time…less than a minute, and we’re done,” Tayler offered. “Billie, Leslie, you stay here with Tyson. Leslie you got eyes in the background here, got it? Trent, you follow me in. We’re only support. We let Owen’s people do their job, and I leave with all of my people in one piece.”
A branch snapped behind them, putting everyone on alert and setting the plan in motion before they knew what happened. On instinct, Tayler tossed Billie and Leslie’s heads to the ground, weapon drawn on whoever was behind them. Word must’ve made it to Perez just as quickly because his people scattered, taking defensive positions.
Gunfire rang out like a fireworks display in July. The man behind them eliminated, Tayler began to move in with Trent at his side, falling in line with Owen. Shots whizzed by so close, Tayler shoved Trent down, yelling for him to stay low and fall back. Their organized plan quickly shifted to something of chaos, like a full-blown shoot-out.
25
With the vehicles now out of commission from sniper fire, and his men falling at his feet, Cesar grabbed Becca, using her as a shield as he went for cover behind the SUVs. Mark Thomas stayed close, offering protection, shooting at his own team like the traitor he was. Shots rang from behind, turning Tayler’s attention to his own side. Billie had fired at one of Perez’s men, apparently wounding him in the groin, which didn’t surprise Tayler. She smiled pleased with the wound she inflicted, gun aimed at her prize while Trent zip-tied the hands and feet of her target.
Shocked and impressed, he moved in, watching Owen’s back as they got closer to Becca. Several shot to death but most wounded and zip-tied, it appeared that Perez was down to a barely-there army. Just as they wanted it, taking back the power, and crippling the warlord, making it impossible for him to prevail.
Creeping from behind the vehicle, Perez used Becca as protection. Cesar, being the coward he was, had himself pinned between her and the SUV with a gun placed at Becca’s temple as insurance.
Tayler circled back around to meet Cesar at the front of the vehicles while Owen used traitor Mark as a distraction. With Tayler in place, Owen discharged his weapon, nailing his target, Mark, a man who’d been like a brother to him, in the right thigh. A clean shot, straight through and likely a nice break as well. Mark lay on the ground, writhing in pain, screaming in much deserved pain like the bastard he was. Distraction accomplished. Owen smiled, thoroughly satisfied with his shot, even if it didn’t make up for the lives lost at Mark’s hands.
“You’re done, Perez. Let her go!” Tayler said, weapon locked on Cesar. “It’s over!”
Mark was quickly zip-tied, moved out of the way, and propped against a tree – his weapon removed.
Becca’s blindfold was now draped around her neck, having fallen in the scuffle. Eyes locked on Becca, Tyson gave her an endearing grin, and said, “It’s going to be okay. You’re okay, and we’re going home. Just a few more minutes.” Becca grinned back, the best she could through her battered face and fat lip unable to to see clearly through her left eye which was swollen nearly shut.
Cesar was surrounded with nowhere to go. He was the worst kind of desperate there was, the most dangerous, too…he had nothing to lose at this point. If he couldn’t walk out alive or a free man, he’d take out everything he could as he went down. It was that kind of desperation that was more dangerous than anything.
“You shoot me – she dies. So this is how it goes. I’m getting in that car, and she comes with me. You give me a driver, unarmed,” Cesar reasoned as if he thought he still had a chance. “When we are far enough away, I let them go, and nobody follows. Do I make myself clear?”
Owen laughed at Cesar’s desperate attempt to remain in charge with two dozen weapons casting a red dot on various parts of his body. The man was already as good as dead. All they needed for that clear shot was his weapon pulled away from Becca’s head because they already had plenty of reason to pull their triggers and rain hell on a monster.
“I’ll drive,” Tyson said, tossing the weapon from his waistband to the ground and kicking it away. He lifted his shirt and turned in a circle, showing he wasn’t carrying another weapon. He raised his arms in a surrender position and walked toward his target.
“Ty, stand down,” Tayler yelled, moving in to try to intercept him. “I mean it, Tyson. Back off. Back the fuck off!”
“Tyson, listen to Tayler. Please…don’t do this,” Becca cried.
“I’m going where she’s going. Not negotiable,” he said, staring down Perez, showing his lack of fear and full confidence. “We all know how this ends, Perez. When you are far enough away, you kill her, right? Well, I can’t live with that, so I’m going where she’s going. However this ends for her is how it ends for me!” Tyson was now an arm’s length from Cesar, not showing a single sign of his anger or loathing.
“Ty…” Owen barked, trying to stop Tyson.
“It’s not up to you, any of you,” he said, eyes still locked on his enemy.
“Fine, this pathetic man goes. You can live together or die together, entirely your choice. No one follows, Mr. Force, and you know I will know.” With a smug smile and leering eyes, he gave a knowing wink. He was toying with them, reminding them that his reach was far and pockets deep. Anyone could be bought.
“Let’s go, Mr.…Neil,” Perez ordered.
Tyson moved toward Becca first, catching Cesar off guard.
“You drive, you buffoon,” Cesar said, strengthening his grip on Becca, causing her to cry out.
“She’s hurt, asshole. I’m helping her into the rig. I’m guessing she can’t entirely see where she’s going, given what you did to her face!” Tyson yelled back through gritted teeth, standing firm, face-to-face with evil…so close he could smell his cigar and expensive scotch on his breath.
“Fine. Quickly!” Cesar backed down, enhancing Tyson’s confidence.
Tyson looked at Tayler first, sharing a knowing look in which Tayler gave a subtle nod. He turned to Becca, resting his hands at her waist, making eye contact with Leslie and Trent at the rear of the vehicle, both giving a similar slight nod. Completely in sync with his friends, he took this mission into his own hands, bringing the grand finale.
He whispered, “Hang on. I love you,” to Becca, who fell right into Leslie’s and Trent’s waiting hands with a vigorous push from Tyson. They swept her around the vehicle and into the shadowy tree line, guarded by Owen’s people. As quickly as he turned her over to safety, his left elbow made contact with Cesar’s face, stunning him with the unforeseen action taking place around him.
Injured and disoriented, he was easy to overtake. Tyson slammed Perez against the vehicle behind him, pinning him with his own body. One arm across his enemy’s neck, one holding his arm with the weapon above his head, slamming it repeatedly against the car until the gun fell to the ground. Tyson began to beat every threat, kill, and disgusting thing Cesar did out of
him.
While the crowd around him looked on, letting the extra punches to the root of his rage slide, Owen signaled for his guys to step in and pull Tyson off the bloodied criminal. The mighty Cesar Perez slid down the vehicle like a rag doll, landing hard at their feet, only semi-conscious.
Distracted by their reunion, the reach Perez made to his ankle was missed. He pulled out a small weapon and aimed it directly at Becca and Tyson who’d met with an embrace just within Cesar’s line of sight.
Mark, still propped against the tree where he was left, shouted, “Gun!” causing a whirlwind of actions to follow.
Cesar slurred his final words before getting a shot off. “Fuck you!”
The activity seemed to transpire in a manner in which time stood still then proceeded slowly. Another gunshot rang out, causing everyone to take defensive positions and aim their weapons at their villain. Tyson rolled himself over Becca in an attempt to shield her from tragedy when a loud growl pierced the silence, followed by a sharp yelp…Charlie.
Scanning the scene, everyone was shocked at what would be the dramatic end to it all. Tayler stood, frozen with his smoking gun in hand, facing a dead Cesar Perez who took a shot to his head at the hands of the local law enforcement.
Feet from Becca and Tyson lay Charlie, the three-legged German Shepherd, shaking and whimpering in pain, having taken the bullet meant for his family. An ambulance transported the dog, a hero, and his owners to the town vet who was standing by, waiting for their arrival. Mark Thomas, was treated as an animal and had to wait for help – the consequence of being a traitor. Now an active crime scene, Owen and his people began to gather evidence and prepare to close their case – enemy deceased.
26
Owen left the cleanup to his team, now free of the leak, a traitor, a man who used to be his friend. He made a call to James, letting him know he was on his way and would brief them on everything in person. He just had a quick stop to make first.