“I know you’re tired,” he said, tossing the half-full bag onto the bed. “If you want to stay at the manor, you can. Swift and I will finish this.”
“No,” she said, making herself stand up. Brodie was a determined individual who completed a mission no matter what, and she wouldn’t give the Kindred less than her absolute best. “If you need an inside contact, I’m the only one who Ben has seen, the only one who he might trust. If there are any more innocents there someone will have to get them to safety while the rest of you clean up.”
Clean up was her way of saying taking out anyone who posed a threat. “Timing is crucial,” Brodie said. Coming to her, he stole her hand and pulled her over to sit on the bed with him. “We’ve set this up so we can get what we need while there’s mayhem. They don’t have a leader, there will be in-fighting and mistrust. We have to get in there, remove any weapons, and make sure no one wants to come back.”
“How will you do that?” she asked. “How can you be sure that even if you burn every hut and kill every crop—“
“Because that place is Rigor’s payment. Him and his men are moving in and they’ll protect it.”
Rigor didn’t seem to be a rational guy, she didn’t like the idea that they were handing him power, especially when he’d just gotten a hoard of weapons too. “Isn’t that replacing one dictator with another?”
“For the most part, Rigor and his guys are low level criminals. They talk a good game, but they don’t persecute and suppress innocent people. The only thing they’re hiding from is the cops. Chances are they’ll turn it into a drinking den, a makeshift casino, whatever, they won’t be planning a war. Rigor just isn’t that motivated.”
From what she’d experienced of Rigor, she’d say Brodie was right. That he’d shot at them after he lost the poker game didn’t seem to be any kind of issue and she had to ask why. “He shot at us, are you ok with that?”
He ran a hand up the front of her bare thigh. “Everyone had too much to drink and tempers ran hot. Rigor hates to lose,” he shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s taken a bullet for winning a hand.”
She could no longer say that Brodie was the one who lived in a different world from everyone else because she was now a part of that world as well. She’d been shot at, seen men die, and become a murderer herself. Her initiation into the Kindred certainly seemed to be complete.
After this was done, there would be plenty of time to rest. She’d started this mission with the Kindred, and she was determined to see it through to the end. “Tell Falc to get the chopper ready, we’ll be out of here in five.”
She didn’t ask more questions, her chief had given her an order and she’d just learned tonight how sexy it was to follow the orders of the man she loved. Packing up the last of her important things, she shoved everything else into a box in her office and then they were running down the stairs of her building to get to Brodie’s bike out back.
There had barely been time to dress let alone shower or think about grooming. But if Brodie was right, they needed to get the drop on the compound now or the window of opportunity would close. Zara didn’t know how this would play out, but it was clear. This was going to be over tonight.
TWENTY-SIX
They met Tuck at a bar less than a mile from the Sutcliffe compound. Zave had stayed with the chopper, which they’d landed in a field without permission. Zave didn’t seem to be the type to get his hands dirty, yet he was completely aloof about flying them here, there, and everywhere, even in spite of what the plan was. His conscience couldn’t run too deep. But based on what she’d seen so far, his bravery was negligible.
On approaching the small, single story concrete structure, she saw only shadows in the high windows and little light. A notice on the battered wooden door declared the premises closed and from the neglected fascia, she wasn’t sure this bar was ever open. It looked abandoned, yet looked to be in better shape than the biker bar Brodie had summoned her to. So it could go either way.
Alone, she and Brodie walked through the entrance. There was no music or noise that would indicate fun, so she guessed the place served a purpose for them and their allies tonight that had nothing to do with drinking and dancing.
Brodie hadn’t said anything since they left Zave, so she guessed he was getting into his game head and when he took her hand, she was startled. The gentle intimacy wasn’t his style, if he wanted to claim or touch her, he grabbed her neck or pulled her body.
Inside, Tuck was with Rigor and a bunch of other men whom she didn’t know, though she recognized some faces from the biker bar. Brodie squeezed her hand, but didn’t look at her. He might have been trying to console her in this intimidating situation, but she thought that was unlikely.
When the dangerous looking men, who she assumed were affiliated with Rigor, spotted their physical connection few hid their surprise. Brodie wasn’t consoling her. He was marking her, and highlighting her significance to him. Tonight wasn’t a night for playing, and she doubted few would try flirting with her, but she was the only woman here.
There was no time for them to explain their relationship to these people. He wanted to get straight to business. Most of the tables had been pushed into one corner of the hardwood floor, giving the lower ranked men space to loiter, while those who made the decisions stayed together. A map was spread out on a large central table, just like in their motel room, and that was where the men congregated.
These men had been working hard and Brodie needed an update before the final push. Tuck acknowledged them with a nod, then turned to the table when she and Brodie got to his side. “We’ve still got guys out there,” Tuck said. “They’re holding the perimeter. We flushed out everyone we could.”
“How?” she asked and Tuck glanced at Brodie.
“There was already confusion ‘cause Ben told them Sutcliffe was dead. So we went in and confirmed it, most ran as soon as they figured it was true. There’s a bunch of guys holed up in the house. We exchanged fire outside, but as we suspected the majority fled. We followed and found them at the bunker. After they did a weird ceremony and buried Sutcliffe like he was some kind of deity, they started to load their trucks. Didn’t take them long to figure out the crates were empty.”
“They split?” Brodie asked.
“Most of them,” Tuck said with a nod.
Using the map that the more important men were fixated on, Tuck talked about the perimeter security and the four cult men guarding it.
“We used FLIR to confirm it,” Tuck said. “These four guys are the last ones protecting the perimeter. Everyone else is in the house battling to take the lead. The perimeter is wide open, it’s too much for these four guys to guard alone. We can ignore them and go in anyway, but then they’re at our backs, so I’d suggest—“
“Won’t take me long to get rid of them,” Brodie said. He and Tuck exchanged a calm look. “Then we go in.”
Tuck, Brodie, Rigor, and three of his men were crowded around the table and in this fully lit space, she got more details of Rigor. He was as shrewd and as shifty as he had been in the biker bar. But his eyes were clearer, he was listening and contributing as the three main men discussed what to do with those in the house.
“Anyone who has ideas of taking over is inside,” Tuck said. “If I was inclined to take bets I might let them alone in there and see how long it takes for them to kill each other.”
Brodie was intense when he frowned. “We don’t have that kinda time, I don’t want them to get the chance to regroup or call back those who have run. This is it. This is our chance to neutralize the threat for good.”
Sutcliffe was dead. His nephew was dead. There was no bloodline to take up Sutcliffe’s mantle. Those who were on the compound looking for a good, idyllic life would have run as soon as Tuck and Rigor showed up, dressed in black, as they were now, telling the cult that their leader had been murdered. Women wanted to protect their children, husbands wanted to protect their wives, those left were
those in the army Sutcliffe had built.
Even then, most of them would have tucked tail and ran when they found out their bunker had been raided and their supplies ravaged. There was little left to fight for when the man with the plan was gone. Sutcliffe was the brains and the money. Rigor had done his homework on many of Sutcliffe’s men and was a wise ally for the Kindred. They had no need for Sutcliffe’s land, but they couldn’t leave it empty, that would raise questions and leave opportunity for anyone who might look to move in. People like Grant.
Thinking of Grant, she wondered where he was now, and where Ben was too. “Do we know who’s in there?” she asked because she hadn’t heard any names yet.
“At least twenty men, maybe as many as thirty,” Tuck said. “It’s hard to get a read, but we’re still listening in, the bug hasn’t been found yet.”
“What about Grant and Ben?”
Her concern wasn’t for their safety. If anything happened to Grant, she couldn’t claim he’d been innocent. Any harm that came to him he’d invited. In typical arrogant fashion, he’d believed these people would turn to him as their new savior when he put himself up for the job. As it turned out, he wasn’t the only man with an ego working with Sutcliffe, apparently the Brit attracted that sort of follower.
“They were both seen going inside,” Tuck said. “But it’s chaos and pulling out individual voices is tough. Most of the time, they have meetings in the kitchen and they end up screaming over the top of each other.”
“Has there been any indication of a secondary site or a backup bunker?” Brodie asked, remaining at her side. The heat of his arm against hers was reassuring and standing here with him, absorbing his strength, made it easier for her to keep a clear head.
“No,” Tuck said, looking back at the map. “Doesn’t mean that there isn’t one. Just that Sutcliffe didn’t share that information with anyone.”
“Or whoever he did share it with isn’t talking,” Rigor said.
“Ok,” Brodie said and backed away from the table, giving Tuck the space to roll up the map. “I’ll take the guys at the rear out first, I’ll circle back, eliminate the guys at the front then we surround the house.”
“You think it’s smart to just walk up through the front?” Rigor asked, separating from Brodie and Tuck to join his own men.
“We don’t skulk,” Brodie said. “This is an assault, and we’ve got to be willing to lose people. Anyone who runs, let ‘em go. If they want to come back at us later, let them. I don’t think one little fucker with a BB gun is gonna come after your people or mine on his own later.”
The men chuckled, displaying just how cocky they were about their abilities. Brodie was right that anyone who ran away was unlikely to cause them much trouble because they simply wouldn’t get close enough to the Kindred or to Rigor. But an all-out assault was risky and she could understand Rigor’s hesitation.
An image of Art’s last moments bled into her thoughts. That was how quickly it happened. Sutcliffe’s shot was deliberate, but it was as possible that a stray bullet could catch them unawares. Brodie wouldn’t let her be part of the advance and that made sense because she didn’t have the combat skills of the others.
While Art was bleeding out, time took on a new pace. Her mother had left her. Art had vanished too soon. And she wouldn’t be there to care for her love if something went wrong at that house. She was still staring into space when the men laughed and all began to move, before Brodie could get too far, her arm leaped up to catch him.
“Wait,” she said. He stopped to frown at her because everyone else was moving toward a door at the back of the room. This was obviously going to happen now. “I don’t want you to go.”
His aloofness became tension. “What?” he said, turning to face her. He came closer as his frown became a deeper disbelieving smile. “What the hell are you—“
It was pathetic and not her role tonight, but she was scared she might lose him when she finally thought that their future was secure. She had to share her fears with him. “It’s dangerous. The sniping at a distance I can handle but… I’m willing to lose other people or to give my life for you. I’m not willing to lose you.”
He blanked his expression and took a breath. “You said that you wanted to be a part of the darkness. That you wanted to be a part of what the Kindred do.”
She nodded and hated that her eyes were beginning to blur. “I do. I do. But…” Focusing on Brodie’s grief had allowed her to sideline her own. She hadn’t known Art for long, but she’d cared for him and watching a good man die had damaged her. It had reopened the wounds that made her recall what losing her mother was like and seeing how it affected Brodie traumatized her. “I won’t be either of those if something happens to you, will I?”
“You’ll always be Kindred,” he said, taking the back of her neck in one hand and touching her cheekbone with the other. “Even if Swift and I don’t make it out, Falcon will—
“I don’t want Falcon,” she said, whispering her petulance. They were alone inside now, vehicle engines came to life out the back signaling the other’s departure. “I want you.
“I have to go,” he said, straightening his body. “I’ve got to go to work and I can’t afford to be worrying about you while I do it. Stay here.”
“But…”
“If we need you to negotiate, we’ll call.”
His hands fell away from her body and he backed away then turned to beat a retreat out of the rear door, making no secret of his anger. His hard expression chastised her because he didn’t need her pulling this kind of shit when he was getting into the zone. She could chase after him, could make a fool of herself and of him in front of men who respected and feared him. But if she did that, he’d resent her for making such a scene.
“I love you,” she murmured.
Whispering the words to an empty room consoled her, but that feeling didn’t last long. The room got quiet quickly. Too quiet. The bar was closed and the front door was locked, so she didn’t have to worry about anyone looking for a drink. All she could do now was wait.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Pouring herself a measure of liquor, Zara shut off the lights, so as not to draw attention to the premises because she didn’t want to argue with anyone who rattled the doors. She didn’t know much about how long it took for a sniper to do his work, but they weren’t far from the compound, so the troop would have arrived.
She finished her drink then laid down on one of the wooden benches that lined the far wall of the room. By now, Brodie would have taken out the men in the rear and probably the men at the front as well. If he had a vehicle then the drive would only take a few minutes. They would only use vehicles to get up the path to the house if they wanted to announce their arrival, otherwise they would be sneaking in on foot and it would take longer.
Brodie had been right to ignore her concerns. What else could he have done? The mission had already started. He couldn’t have walked out back to face the men who were gunning for a fight to tell them that he’d changed his mind and was going to sit here on his ass because his girlfriend decided to pitch a fit.
She wanted them to take their time and get it right, so as not to lose any men. But she also wanted them to hurry up and get it over with, so she could relax and stop worrying about her love. Selling her apartment, giving up her job, traveling the world with a marksmen, she couldn’t believe her life had become so unrecognizable. But she wanted a life with Brodie more than she’d ever wanted anything.
Smiling, she sat up and scrutinized her empty glass. Brodie was capable. He would get this job done and then they could concentrate on loving each other for a while. He might be an unconventional choice, but Brodie gave her everything that she needed.
Bold, brash, and domineering, she couldn’t claim to have changed the man, but if he changed for her then he would no longer be the man she fell in love with because Brodie always thought he knew best and that was just how she liked him.
A noise at the re
ar door made her look up. If they were back already that must be a record, they’d been gone for less than an hour. Pushing her glass to the center of the table, she rose to her feet and began to move toward the door. She hadn’t heard any vehicles, but they were so close to the compound that someone could walk or run here.
If someone had fled the scene, it could be an indicator that something had gone wrong. Picking up speed, she was ten feet from the door when it burst open, and she skidded to a halt.
“You’re a lady who likes her liquor.”
The night outside hid his features, but she recognized the build and the tone of that self-satisfied voice. “Caine,” she said. Her purse was on the bar and she thought about running for it when he took a step forward to reveal the glint of his own pistol.
“Care to come in for a drink?” she asked, taking a step back and opening an arm toward the bar. If he came inside and let her go behind the bar, she could get her gun.
“Another time,” he said. “There’s somewhere you need to be.”
It couldn’t be a coincidence that he was here. Though if this bar was owned by Rigor or his men, Caine could be here to loot their supplies or maybe he knew something about the building that she didn’t. “Oh yeah? Where am I supposed to be?”
She expected a smart answer, but his words weren’t spoken for amusement. “The scene of the crime.”
“What the—“
“Come with me,” he said and pushed the door open with his back, keeping the gun on her. Glancing toward the bar, she wished for her purse and considered making a run for it. “You can try and do something stupid, but you know I’ll get a shot off before you get to where you want to go. I’m here to retrieve you because I’ve been watching Swift and his dumb friends all day.”
Swallow (Kindred Book 2) Page 31