Expired Hero

by Lisa Phillips

  Kaylee wanted to move. Her body was frozen, encased in enough shock and fear to restrict even a twitch of movement.

  Stuart’s face came into view. His lips moving as the other man’s had done.

  He touched her cheek. A soft gesture, his skin rough. “Hey.”

  She flinched and sucked in a breath. Everything spun around her, so she grasped his elbows for support.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. “Call Dean.”

  “No.” The word sounded like a croak. “I’m…I’m okay.”

  Stuart dipped his head to look in her eyes. “Sure?”

  She nodded, then realized tears were rolling down her face. Kaylee swiped them away, and he handed her a tissue. Where he’d gotten it from, she had no idea.

  “I thought you got arrested.”

  Stuart glanced at the “special agent” and shrugged. “He’s not a real federal agent. Conroy told me that Ted figured it out right before we came in here. He’s ex-military. A mercenary for hire, or so Ted thinks.”

  That wasn’t good. Someone had hired this guy to come here. To shoot a rifle, steal her computer, arrest Stuart, and try to get her package from Brad. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  A shadow crossed over his eyes. “Me, too.” He held out his hand. “Should we go somewhere else?”

  Conroy came up to them. “Neither of you are going anywhere except for the police station.”

  Kaylee gasped. “Are you arresting us?”

  Stuart shifted to stand slightly in front of her. A protective gesture.

  Conroy said, “When you contacted one of my people for help, you chose to involve me and this department. We care about you. That means you fill us in on what’s happening, and we do everything we can to keep you safe until it’s resolved.”

  “I’m not in danger.”

  Stuart didn’t react to her dumb statement. Conroy shot her a look.

  “I mean, I didn’t think I was,” Kaylee said.

  “I don’t think that’s true either.”

  “I’m not a liar.”

  Stuart took her hand in his. “No one thinks you are. But we should tell Conroy what’s happening.”

  She caught his gaze, over his shoulder.

  Kaylee nodded. “I know.”

  She did need Conroy’s help. That way she’d know it was being taken care of, and she wouldn’t have to worry. She’d have backup if she was in danger.

  Plus, she was still holding Stuart’s hand, and that was nice. He was strong. He made her feel safer, even if a lot of the threat she’d felt recently was from him.

  Am I really going to do this?

  She’d been avoiding what was going on up until now. It appeared she wasn’t able to do that any longer.

  The fake federal agent was slammed against the wall and cuffed. He struggled against the cops, but it did no good. They escorted him out.

  Kaylee saw the safety deposit box, pictures spilling out. She rushed over and righted them, breathing a prayer of thanks that nothing had been damaged.

  “Who are they?”

  She didn’t look at Stuart, and she didn’t want to look at the photos either. She only wanted to put them away. Where she’d know they were safe. “My parents.”

  She put the lid back on and returned the box to its place.

  Both Conroy and Stuart had sympathetic looks on their faces. She spun away and walked out.

  The bank manager, Silas Nigelson, was occupied with Trina who was currently being assessed by an EMT. Kaylee slipped past them, thankful she didn’t have to try and figure out how to apologize for everything.

  First her room. Now this, and Trina was hurt on top of it all.

  What did you get yourself into, Brad? Normally she’d pray, as she always had. Find her peace in God. This time, it seemed to make more sense to direct her question to her brother. Wherever he was.

  “We can take my car.” Conroy pulled keys from his pocket, shifting his suit jacket in the process.

  She took comfort in that familiar move she’d seen many times before.

  Stuart was on her other side, scanning the street. Cars passed. A couple biked together, a trailer behind them with a child inside. A normal day.

  Making her wish she could have a day like that.

  Did Stuart ride a bike?

  “Come on.”

  She nodded to Conroy and followed him across the street to his car. “Thank you all for coming. I don’t know what I’d have done if…” She couldn’t finish.

  “I’m glad you contacted us,” Conroy said. “Though, a little more warning would have been good.” The grin he shot her was new, full of boyish charm. He was a nice guy and a great cop. Lately, now that he had a fiancé, he seemed softer somehow, without the rough edges he normally wore. Mostly because he was happy now. Life was good.

  Stuart scanned the parking lot, then glanced back at the bank. Then he looked at the roofs of the buildings around them.

  “What is—” She couldn’t finish.

  Stuart yelled, “Gun!”

  Kaylee flinched, and before she could make sense of what was happening, he was tackling her to the ground just as a gunshot went off. A sound like a firework cracked across her.

  She hit the asphalt and cried out as he landed on her. Kaylee’s entire body jarred and her head slammed against the ground.

  “Sorry.” Stuart shifted off her. “Stay down. Do not move.”

  Kaylee didn’t know if she could.

  She glanced around though, trying to figure out what had just happened. Under the car, she could see someone on the other side.

  Covered in blood.

  “Conroy.” Ice washed over her. Kaylee yelled, “Conroy!”

  Boots pounded toward her. A car horn honked. Kaylee forced her vision to focus and saw Basuto, his face pale with fear.

  Kaylee screamed. “Officer down!”

  Nine

  Stuart couldn’t leave her. He touched his palms to Kaylee’s cheeks and looked into her eyes. Fear blinked back at him, but she focused just fine. She’d hit her head pretty hard.

  Another shot rang out.

  Basuto, who’d been racing toward them, hit the asphalt in the middle of the street. Someone screamed. Stuart winced. He knew pain like that. Not only what it felt like initially, but also how to live with the repercussions of the injury day in and day out.

  Kaylee shifted, letting out a small moan of pain. “Conroy.”

  Stuart wanted to go after the shooter. He tugged on her arms. “Stay low. Go left.”

  They moved around the front of the car, to the other side where Conroy lay.

  “Stuart!”

  He glanced back, over his shoulder.

  Dean hugged the corner of the bank building. “Talk to me.”

  Everyone over there was pinned down. Cops. Pedestrians. Stuart saw more than one person with bloody knees and palms. An older man had been propped against the building, one of the cops pressing a cloth to his forehead.

  Stuart peered around the front bumper to see Conroy.

  Kaylee shifted beside him. “We need to put pressure on that.”

  “Conroy!” Mia’s scream echoed from the bank against the buildings on the far side. Someone grabbed her around the waist. She kicked out, screaming for her fiancé.

  Kaylee gasped a breath. “I can get to him.”

  Dean yelled, “Stuart!”

  He assessed Conroy as fast as he could, then turned back to Dean. His friend’s face was pale in a scary way. None of them wanted to lose the police chief. Stuart yelled out, “He’s breathing and conscious.” But there was a lot of blood.

  A shot pinged off the street, kicking up asphalt.

  Stuart tugged off his sweater, balled it up, and handed it to Kaylee. “Careful and slow. You keep your head down, yeah?”

  She nodded and started to crawl toward the police chief.

  Stuart assessed the rooftops to try and figure out where the sniper had set up his perch.

 
Conroy moaned. Kaylee had her arms straight, pressing down with the sweater on his wound.

  Stuart said, “Shoulder?”

  “It’s too low.”

  He prayed it wasn’t so low it had hit Conroy’s heart, though he suspected it hadn’t. With a large caliber bullet from a rifle, it would have done significant enough damage that the police chief would probably be dead by now if that was the case.

  Kaylee’s phone started to ring.

  “Pick up the phone, Kaylee!” Dean called out across the street.

  She nodded at Stuart and put the phone to her ear. “Hello—wait. Stuart.”

  He stopped backing up, still scanning the rooftops and looked at her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to get the sniper.”

  “Kaylee.” Dean sounded frustrated.

  Stuart left them to it. He needed to solve the bigger problem of how the sniper had them all pinned down so they couldn’t take care of Conroy the way they needed to and get him to the hospital.

  He spotted a glint of sunlight and sent up a prayer of thanks. Stuart didn’t even have a weapon. Didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to hit the sniper with a gun from this distance.

  He needed to be closer.

  Stuart trotted down the buildings, the opposite side of the street from the bank. He kept parked cars between him and the sniper’s scope. Hiding as he sprinted low toward the movie theater where the man—or woman—had set up shop.

  He had to push everything from his mind, except the task at hand—taking care of this threat. Otherwise, emotion would cloud his judgment, and he’d be fighting shock instead, demanding things from his body that adrenaline would deny him. The first rule he’d ever learned of covert operations was to give up everything he was and be simply the “asset.” Otherwise, personal traits and opinions crept in. If he hadn’t learned how to do that, he’d have been dead years ago.

  Unfortunately, that “unmaking” he’d gone through now meant all he had was fragments of the person he’d been in the past, with no idea of the kind of man he was now.

  Only who he maybe wanted to be.

  He breached the side door and raced for the stairs inside. He’d only been in the movie theater once, but during the entire movie, instinct had found him cataloging escape routes and noting the location of all doors and hallways.

  The roof door had been padlocked at one time. That padlock lay discarded now, cut with the bolt cutters that lay beside it. He grabbed them and pushed the door open, keeping his body out of sight.

  A gunshot—a pistol this time—sang past the doorframe beside his head.

  Stuart didn’t flinch. He waited.

  Would the guy get inpatient and come looking for him? He couldn’t know Stuart’s only weapon was the bolt cutters the guy had left behind.

  A minute passed. Nothing.

  Stuart picked up the busted padlock. He tested the weight in his hand, then fielded it out the door. Impact.

  He heard a low exclamation and whipped his head to look out.

  He’d hit the leg of the sniper tripod and knocked the thing down. Stuart moved out the door, throwing the bolt cutters. It was a risky move, but his arm was pretty accurate, even left-handed.

  The bolt cutters caught the man’s outstretched hand holding the gun. He cried out and Stuart slammed into him. He tackled the guy, and they both hit the ground, kind of like the way he’d done with Kaylee.

  Only this time it wasn’t to save someone’s life. He slammed his arm under the guy’s chin, nearly snapping his neck back as he forced the man’s skull against the roof of the movie theater.

  “I need him alive.”

  Stuart didn’t turn, but he was pretty sure it was Basuto. He knelt on the sniper’s wrist. The man cried out and punched Stuart’s thigh. His entire leg went numb.

  Stuart hissed and tried to shift his weight to get some feeling back in it.

  Basuto knelt beside him. He grabbed the sniper’s free hand and twisted it back. “Roll.”

  They got the man onto his front, and Basuto put cuffs on. Stuart shifted to stand, and his leg gave out. He tumbled onto his backside and breathed against the pain while the sergeant hauled their sniper to his feet.

  The man who’d shot the police chief glared at him.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” Stuart was content to stand when his legs would hold him up, but there was no way he wouldn’t speak his mind. “If the chief dies, there’s nothing you can do to talk yourself out of this. No deals.”

  This guy had to know small towns weren’t like the warzones he was probably used to. It drove Stuart crazy how insular they were, but that would come in handy right now.

  Basuto said, “He’s right. You’re done.”

  The sniper’s expression changed, eyes narrowing. He didn’t give away much in his expression, but it was clear he didn’t think much of the sergeant.

  “Who sent you?” Stuart got up, leaning most of his weight on the leg that was still numb. He closed in on the sniper and patted him down. The sergeant didn’t need to be caught by a weapon no one had known this man carried.

  Basuto motioned to the rifle, now laying on its side on the gravel. “I’ll have Donaldson pack up all this stuff.”

  He found a knife at the man’s ankle and a photo in his back pocket. “It’s Kaylee.” Stuart showed the picture to Basuto.

  Then he squared up in front of the sniper. They had to learn this man’s name. And Stuart would.

  After all, it could be he wasn’t in any database. He might be a mercenary. Or he’d been in the military and now worked contracts for hire. An assassin. Government, or freelance? Whoever had set up Brad and Stuart was here, cleaning up their mess.

  Stuart had no idea who that was. He didn’t even have any theories. “Kill, or capture?”

  The man stared him down.

  “Tell me what I want to know,” Stuart said. “What’s your assignment here?”

  The sniper’s nostrils flared.

  “Let’s go.” Basuto led the man toward the door. “We’ll get answers, one way or another.”

  Stuart followed them, more to see if the man said anything more. Though, considering everything, he intended also to provide backup to the sergeant if necessary. “How’s the chief?”

  Basuto studied the sniper as they headed down the stairs, not taking his attention from the man who’d shot his boss. “It went through. Dean said it’s bad, but he could pull through. Told me to pray.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Yeah?”

  Stuart said, “Sure. Can’t hurt, right?”

  The sniper huffed out a breath.

  Stuart didn’t need his opinion on matters of faith. “Whether or not you or I believe Someone is up there, prayer is helpful. If it turns out there isn’t Someone up there?” He shrugged. “I’ve lost nothing asking for help since just doing so has slowed me down enough to give me peace in the middle of insanity.”

  Basuto opened the door at the bottom and led the sniper out to the lobby. “Mmm.”

  Stuart had fallen back on faith several times in his life. This situation was bad enough he’d be tempted to do it again. He knew Kaylee believed, so why not pray? What he’d told Basuto was true. Praying hadn’t ever been a bad idea before. Why would it be now?

  They approached the movie theater front door.

  “Watch your step.” The sniper smirked.

  Stuart grabbed him from Basuto’s grasp and shoved him against the wall beside the door. The man winced. Stuart said, “Who else is here?”

  His lips twitched.

  “Your buddy, the fake Homeland agent? He’s in police custody. Now you are too.”

  “Uh…” Basuto didn’t continue.

  “He’s dead?” Stuart asked without looking at the sergeant.

  “First person this guy killed.”

  Stuart spoke to the sniper. “Tying up loose ends?” When the man said nothing, he continued, “Making it so no one can talk.”
>
  “Guess that means I’m next, right?”

  “And it doesn’t matter how much pressure we put on,” Stuart said. “You aren’t going to talk. We won’t be able to ID you, and the minute you hit the system, you’ll be killed in some incident or another.”

  “You’d know.”

  Stuart pressed his lips into a thin line. They’d get nothing from this guy.

  He wanted to ask again what interest they had with Kaylee. Why this man had her picture on him. But what was the point? He wasn’t going to talk. They’d never be able to do enough to get him to go against his orders. Or offer him enough to betray them.

  “What do they have on you?”

  The man’s eyes darkened.

  “Don’t you know vulnerabilities are what gives them that power?”

  “So, you care about nothing,” the man said. “Is that it?”

  At one time, that would have been true. Now? Not so much. Stuart said, “These people are under my protection.”

  Basuto shifted closer to Stuart. “I don’t know what you’re gearing up to do, but I’m not letting this guy go. I don’t care if you’re wanting him to relay a message back to whoever sent him here. Not when he shot Conroy.”

  “Understood.” Stuart walked away, shoved the door open and stepped outside. If there was someone else here, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t feel that familiar sensation of being watched right now.

  They were keeping their distance.

  He waved over a couple of uniformed cops, just to make sure Basuto would have backup. The police here could do whatever they wanted. Stuart had never operated on a local level. He’d cleaned up national problems. Changed the course of a government. Even, once, started a war. Conflict was inevitable, so it may as well happen for a good reason.

  He sighed. The man he’d been was still in there.

  No matter how much he attempted to convince himself otherwise, he was still that person deep down. He didn’t belong here.

  Where he put everyone in danger.

  Stuart needed to make sure Kaylee was safe, and then he was leaving. He would trace this man to the source, whoever that was.

  He would take them out.

  Ten

  “Kaylee!”