Zero Hour: Brotherhood Protectors World

by Holt, Desiree

  Morgan wanted to put his hand through a wall. He was losing his edge and at the worst possible time.

  “Fuck,” was all he could say. “Just goddamn fuck.”

  “Here’s a thought,” Beckett told him. “What if somehow the government we all hate so much got a sniff of what’s being planned and sent her to you to see what she could find out?”

  “Impossible,” he snapped.

  But was it? He had vetted every single person in his “army.” Those who didn’t pass muster were eliminated. He couldn’t risk loose lips, but somewhere there had been a leak.

  Just fuck it all.

  “I’ll find her,” he told Beckett.

  “No.” The other man growled the word. “I’ll find her, and I’ll take care of her. You just keep your shit together and don’t fuck up Zero Hour.”

  Morgan wanted to deck the man. He’d had the same problem with Vanetti only with a different slant. Give a man too much monetary control and he thought he owned you. Vanetti wanted him to change his philosophy. Beckett wanted to be in charge. All he needed was another week and he could get rid of Beckett, too.

  “I’m moving the last of the men to Montana tomorrow,” he told the other man. “Do you want to fly out with me?”

  There was a short silence. “No. I’m staying right here. In case something goes wrong I have to have plausible deniability.”

  “Nothing is going wrong.” Morgan gritted his teeth. Then he inhaled a deep breath and forced himself to let it out slowly. “Everything will go as planned.”

  “It damn well better. Keep me in the loop.”

  The call disconnected, and Morgan was left sitting there holding a dead phone.

  When this is over, and I’m in control of everything, all Beckett’s wealth isn’t going to stop me from blowing this man out of the water.

  He pulled up a list on his phone and studied it, mentally checking off each item. Okay, time to move the troops.

  * * *

  “No!”

  The shout woke Terry, the sound of a man’s voice laced with pain. Despite being tired, from the tension of the situation, two days of driving, and some of the best sex she’d ever had, she came awake instantly. Jesse was sitting up in bed next to her, his body rigid.

  “Jesse?”

  “Where’s our cover? Where the hell is our damned cover?”

  She reached out to gently touch his shoulder and had to duck as he swung an arm in her direction. Okay, he was having a nightmare, totally unaware of his surroundings, his mind back in Afghanistan, which had been his most recent assignment before his discharge.

  “Fire! Right now!”

  She had to wake him up before he did damage to himself or her.

  She slid to her feet before turning on the lamp on the nightstand, standing away from the bed, just in case. Then she waited a minute to see if that would wake him up. After a minute he blinked and turned toward where she was standing, confusion and panic warring in his eyes.

  “Jesse.” She spoke his name in a soft voice. “Jesse, can you wake up for me?”

  “They’re dead.” The agony in his voice was painful to hear. “Oh god, they’re dead.”

  “Jesse,” she tried again.

  “Dead.” He buried his face in his hand.

  The sound of his sobs was so agonizing it actually hurt her heart. She had to find a way to wake him up.

  “Jesse.” She raised her voice. “Jesse, it’s okay. Wake up. Come on, wake up now.”

  She was afraid to touch him again, but the sound of her voice must have penetrated the fog of his nightmare. He turned his head in the direction of her voice, and blinked twice. Somehow she had penetrated the veil of the nightmare.

  “Terry?” His voice sounded as if he was strangling, and he repeated her name. “Terry?”

  She pressed against the side of the bed, reached out and touched his arm, jerking her hand back at once, just in case. But this time he didn’t swing at her, turned his head toward her and blinked again. Then he dropped his head into his hands.

  “Terry. Oh Jesus. I am so sorry.”

  Believing he was in control of himself, she climbed back onto the bed and stroked his arm.

  “Are you fully awake now?”

  He didn’t say a word, just nodded.

  “Okay. Good. I’m going to get you a glass of water.”

  By the time she came back from the kitchen carrying the drink, he looked as if he’d pulled himself together, at least somewhat. He accepted the glass and drank down half of it before setting it on the nightstand. Then he patted the bed next to him.

  “It’s safe for you to sit here.” He tried for a smile. “The crisis is over, at least for now. I won’t be attacking you anymore tonight.”

  She sat close to him and took one of his hands in both of hers, stroking it lightly.

  “You startled me,” she said at last. “I worried you’d hurt yourself.”

  “Or hurt you.” He said that in a flat voice. “Now you know why I hightailed it away from you. I never know when I’m going to get one of these. I could do some serious damage to you. I could never live with myself if that happened.”

  “There are ways to deal with it, you know.” She continued to stroke his hand. “Have you seen someone about this?”

  He snorted. “You mean a shrink? When I finished my tour and did not re-up, they wanted me to see someone, but I’ve never been very good about sharing my feelings.” He glanced over at her. “I grew up learning you kept that shit inside you. People didn’t want to hear it, so you just manned up.”

  “Tough father?”

  He shook his head, and a corner of his mouth tilted a little. “Tough mother. She could put a BUD/S instructor to shame. Oh, she had her reasons, but it left its mark on me.”

  “You need to do it,” she told him. “If you want to do more with your life than see the country on your motorcycle, that is.”

  “Right now I need to figure out how to keep my shit together so I don’t fuck up this operation. I’d never be able to live with that. Alex is including me based on Zane’s recommendation, and I don’t want either of them to be sorry.”

  “I don’t think either of them would be. They wouldn‘t include you so easily if they were.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. This is a great chance for you to prove to yourself that you can keep it together. And after this is all over, I want you to seriously think about talking to someone to get you past all of that.”

  When he didn’t answer that, she just squeezed his hand and slid back under the covers. Eventually he lay back and pulled the covers over himself, too. He resisted at first when she tried to get him to spoon her, but finally he blew out a long breath and curved his body around hers.

  “I want to make this work between us,” he said at last in a low voice, his breath tickling the back of her neck. “I just don’t know if I can. If I’m too damaged. My being here is probably a bad idea all around.”

  “Not at all. Not even a little. So, like I said, let’s take care of this and then we’ll see what’s what.”

  When he didn’t’ say anything for a long time, she figured he wasn’t going to answer her. Then, out of the darkness, he said, “I’m going to try. For you. Okay? Let’s get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  He tightened his arm around her, and she fell asleep with her lips curved in a smile.

  Chapter 9

  It was cold in the morning, with a hint of frost in the air. When Zane came to fetch them, he grinned at Terry huddled into her jacket.

  “Winter comes early in the Crazies,” he told her. “Glad you brought a warm jacket.”

  She’d looked up the temperature when she’d stopped at the big box store to replenish her wardrobe and supplies. She’d never been a fan of real cold weather, but she’d learned to tolerate it on some of her assignments. She’d made coffee as soon as she got up, and she and Jesse both were cradling mugs in their hands.

  “As
long as there’s plenty of hot liquid,” Terry said, “I’m good.”

  “We can arrange that.”

  The three of them managed to fit in the large cab of Zane’s pickup, and shortly they were on the road heading into Eagle Rock.

  “You like it here?” she asked Zane.

  He grinned. “I do as long as Lainie’s here.”

  Terry smiled “Good answer. But, outside of that. You like it as a place to live? Like your job?”

  He thought about it for a moment. Did he know she was asking the questions for Jesse? Did Jesse sense it?

  “I wasn’t sure when I got here,” Zane told her finally. “But I wasn’t handling my problems too well where I was, even though I was living close to my sister and parents. I just didn’t want them to see that flawed side of me.”

  “But—”

  He shook his head. “Let me finish. Alex Rossi is an incredible human being, besides being one of the best SEALs and an extraordinary lawman. He’s given people like me a chance to find ourselves again and have a purpose in life. Oh, he’s plenty tough about it. No room for error but plenty of support while you’re getting there.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And, of course, having Lainie in the picture when I left Tampa gave me someone to focus on besides myself. It’s her story to tell, but maybe she’ll open up to you. Anyway, once I got here, I realized this really was a good place to regenerate yourself. Lots of fresh air, beautiful scenery, great people for the most part. And Alex has a good plan to give new focus to those SEALs who are having trouble fitting back into society. We love it here.”

  Jesse had not commented through the whole conversation, but she sensed he had paid careful attention to it.

  And speaking of paying attention, she was startled to see they had turned off the highway into the little town of Eagle Rock. At this hour of the morning there were hardly any people moving around, but when they turned down another street she spotted a big square building that seemed to be all lit up.

  “That’s our destination,” Zane told her. “We’ll pull around back to the loading dock and get things squared away.”

  At the rear of the building, a big delivery truck was backed up to the dock, its rear doors opened, and three men were moving cartons from that truck to a smaller one parked next to it. Zane parked and turned to his passengers.

  “Ready?”

  Jesse nodded. “I’m good.”

  “As I’ll ever be,” Terry added.

  When they climbed up to the open dock, Zane introduced Terry and Jesse to the man holding a clipboard and checking things off. Emery Belzer looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. He looked at Zane with a bitter expression on his face.

  “I hope your people know how to move cartons,” he spat. “if they damage any of this stuff, Reed Morgan will peel the skin off my hide in strips.”

  “No problem,” Zane assured him.

  Belzer looked at Terry. “You didn’t say there’d be a woman. She doesn’t look like she can handle a handkerchief.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Terry assured him. “I can bench press two hundred pounds.”

  Belzer looked as if his eyes would pop out of their sockets but he just gave a grunt of agreement.

  “Really?” Jesse whispered in her ear.

  “No, but I wanted him to think so. Let’s get to work.”

  Alex had told them exactly what would be expected of them, so Terry and Jesse got to work loading all the cartons Emery Belzer had marked to transfer. A man named John Anderson, put in place by Alex, would drive the truck to Morgan’s place. Alex told them the man was a local who had no love for Reed Morgan or any of his ideas he’d heard. Alex had made a connection with him, and Anderson was more than willing to haul supplies to Morgan’s place and do a little spying now and then. Also, by now, Morgan’s people were used to seeing him as an occasional driver, so it didn’t raise any red flags.

  Before long, they were ready to go. Terry sat in the middle between John Anderson and Jesse as they drove out of town and down a winding road to the entrance to Reed Morgan’s place. She recalled what it looked like from the aerial shots, but this gave her a chance to see it up close and personal. Rolling grassland stretched out on either side of the narrow road that led to the house itself. To the left and right of the property she could see cattle grazing on the neighboring ranches, but there was nothing on Morgan’s except the long building that she knew was the firing range behind the house.

  They stopped at the gate in the fence that enclosed the property, and John reached for a phone in a metal box attached to one of the bars.

  “We’re here with the delivery,” he told whoever answered.

  In a moment the gates swung open, and they drove through. They had barely cleared it before they swung closed again. Anderson drove the truck around to the rear, and they all climbed out. When the back door to the house opened two men, both very tall, dressed in jeans and flannel shirts, walked out onto the porch. One of them held a clipboard and nodded to Anderson.

  “Morning, John. Your turn into the delivery barrel?”

  Anderson dipped his head. “Something like that.”

  The man frowned at Terry. “You got a woman on your crew this time? Can she handle it?”

  “She needs the money and, yep, she’s good. Works out with weights.”

  The man studied Terry for a long moment, assessing her. “Okay, then. If you say she’s good, she’s good.”

  “You got your inventory sheets?”

  “Right here.” The man lifted his clipboard. “We’ll check everything off as your crew brings it in. You know how Reed can get if things aren’t just so.”

  “Indeed. All right, let’s get to it.”

  Terry and Jesse worked silently, unloading the boxes and waiting for them to be checked off before bringing them inside on the hand trucks. They were directed to place them in a big room filled with shelves to the right of the door. As they brought in the cartons, men who had been waiting unpacked them and stacked the goods on the shelves.

  “You’d think he was going to keep us here for a year,” one of them choked as he unpacked cans of soup. “I thought the big day was happening before next week.”

  Terry saw the other man shoot him a look and step on his foot, a signal to be quiet. So, the target date wasn’t far away. Did he plan to bring people back here afterward? They needed more information. She wished she could get farther into the house. Alex had given her a tiny but powerful listening device, but she had to find a way to plant it. They certainly weren’t going to do much talking in the oversized pantry closet.

  “Excuse me.” She stopped near the man without the clipboard. “Is it possible there’s a bathroom I could use?”

  He studied her face for a long moment as if searching for lies before he turned.

  “Follow me.”

  He took her through the kitchen down a long hall that led to a big living room. There was a small bathroom on the right.

  “I’ll wait for you,” he told her. “In case you get lost finding your way back to the door.”

  She forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  Although she couldn’t see much of it, she got the impression the house was as large as it looked from the outside. Sprawling, with many rooms, and a second floor she was sure was all sleeping quarters. Plenty of room for the men he had sent here. She stayed in the bathroom a sufficient amount of time before flushing the toilet and running the water in the sink. She had noticed a little table against one wall in the short hallway, and when she came out of the bathroom she deliberately tripped and fell against it, catching herself by gripping the edges.

  The man waiting for her grabbed her elbow “Watch it. You okay?”

  “Yes. Fine.” She flashed a smile. “Just a little clumsy. Thank you.”

  And inventive, she thought. She’d managed to stick the tiny listening device to the back edge of the table, hoping it would pick up what they needed. Additionally, she caught gli
mpses of a large group of men also dressed in jeans and flannels in the living room and dining room. None of them looked friendly, and they all appeared to be studying some kind of document. When they heard her, they looked up, saw one of the so-called helpers was with her, and returned to whatever they were reading.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  The man with her tugged her in the direction from which they’d come and was right on her heels as she made her way to the back door. By now all the cartons had been brought in and the dollies wheeled back to the truck. One of the two men doing the unpacking reached out and shook her hand.

  “Thank you for delivering everything,” he told her. “Mr. Morgan makes sure we’re well fed.”

  “Good.” She shoved her hand in her pocket. When he’d released his grip, she’d felt something stick to her palm, and she didn’t want to lose it.

  “Let’s go, people.” Anderson motioned them back to the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. “We’ve got more work to do today.”

  Morgan’s people stood in silence while Terry and Jesse got back in the truck, staying on the back porch and watching before turning to go back inside the house. Terry figured they’d been monitoring them either through a window or the security system, however, because, as they approached the gates, they swung open to let them through.

  No one said a word on the way back to town. Terry wasn’t sure how much John Anderson knew, so she didn’t want to say anything in front of him. Instead she maintained her silence and kept her hand in her jacket pocket, making sure whatever was stuck to it was safe. At last they were back at the grocery store where Zane was waiting for them.

  “John, you know to make yourself scarce for a few days?” Zane reminded him.

  “I do. No problem. Helen and I been planning to head to Arizona for a week to see the kids, anyway. We fly out this afternoon.”

  “Good move.” He shook the driver’s hand. “Have a great time and don’t hurry back.”

  They said goodbye to John and climbed into Zane’s truck.

  “This way if someone mentions a woman on the delivery team,” Zane told them, “and Morgan has any idea it might be you, he can’t get hold of John to ask him.”