Brotherhood Protectors: STEELE RANGER (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Jesse Jacobson

  “Are you sure this is the best idea?” she asked.

  “There’s no other way,” he said.

  She let out a sigh, “Okay.”

  He smiled at her, “Get to the side door and be ready,” he said. He looked at the door, “Wish me luck.”

  Sam opened the door of the cabin and surveyed the scene. The Tahoe was approximately 70-feet away. The bad news was that he would be in full sight of the shooters for at least half that distance. After that, the trees would limit or obscure his visibility to them.

  The worse news was that he would have to trudge through a twelve-inch blanket of snow to make it to the vehicle. The snow would seriously slow him down. After quickly considering his options, he decided the best thing to do was to go for broke and run in a straight line toward the vehicle.

  Chapter 16

  Sheriff Stone had been walking casually toward the cabin when he had been shot. The snow had slowed him. Sam would be moving as quickly as possible. There was still a slight wind, even though it had lightened up.

  He tossed two smoke grenades: one ten feet away; the other twenty feet away. Both went off, billowing smoke. The wind would make the smoke disappear quickly, he thought. Time to move.

  Sam heard gunfire almost immediately. The shooters were randomly firing into the smoke. He began his run toward the Tahoe. He heard one bullet whistling through the air just behind him. A second shot dusted up the snow in front of him. A third bullet pelted near the snow to his left, missing his foot by inches. Five more yards to go, he thought.

  Three more shots whizzed by him, this time just behind him.

  Three more yards…

  Two more yards…

  One more yard.

  He had made it to the safety of the tree line.

  Although he was in tremendous physical condition, the adrenaline rush and the effort he made running through the snow had winded him. He paused momentarily, catching his breath.

  He opened the Tahoe door and slipped into the driver’s seat. The keys were in the ignition and the vehicle started smoothly. He turned the heat on high to begin warming the inside of the Tahoe and looked at his path to the cabin’s side entrance. He would once again expose himself to the shooters, and this time with a much larger target. If they were to hit one of his tires, this party could be over before it started.

  He got out of the vehicle and tossed two more grenades to provide him some cover driving back to pick up Vandy.

  He quickly slid back into the driver’s seat and threw the Tahoe into gear and hit the gas. The vehicle navigated the snow well, far better than his truck even. Shots began to ring out and one pelted the passenger side of the vehicle almost as soon as he reached a clear line of sight for the shooters. He heard at least three additional shots popping against the passenger door. Fortunately, none of the bullets made it all the way through to the cabin.

  He let out a sigh of relief when he made it to the side of the cabin, out of the shooter’s line of sight. Vandy was waiting for him; a look of fear and worry etched on her face.

  “I heard all the shooting,” she shrieked. “I was so worried.”

  He rolled down the passenger window, “Get in the back seat and lay down on the floor board,” he barked. “I’m going to toss these last two grenades to give us cover back to the main road. If we make it to the tree line, we’ll be free and clear for a spell. The tree line extends along the road for a couple of miles. After that, brace yourself for a rough ride.”

  She nodded and slipped into the back, dragging the cardboard, the tape and medical bag into the vehicle with her. She slipped into a prone position on the floorboard of the back seat. Sam stepped out of the vehicle and tossed his final two grenades.

  “Hang on,” Sam cried out, hitting the gas.

  Shots rang out once again as soon as the vehicle came into the line of sight. Two of them pelted the hood of the vehicle. Sam saw the dashboard lights flicker and then fail. The entire instrument panel went dead. Fortunately, the engine was still running. They made it to the tree line.

  He stopped the Tahoe, “Okay, we made it through Phase I,” he said.

  “Can I come up to the front with you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Vandy moved up to the front seat and secured her seat belt.

  “What’s our situation?” she asked.

  “The good news is, we are still here.”

  “Is there bad news?” she asked sitting up.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” he said. “One of the bullets hit the Tahoe’s electrical system. That shut down our lights and killed the police radio. We can’t radio for help, and when it gets dark we won’t have headlights.”

  She sighed and shook her head, “Fuck! That’s par for the course. Where do we go from here? Should we wait behind the trees until dark?”

  “I thought of that,” he said. “But if they don’t see the Tahoe appear they will walk down toward us. Even in the dark, if they get close to the road we are as good as dead.”

  “What then?”

  “We go for it. We head back to town as quickly as possible,” he said. “The shooters are positioned high at the moment. If they stay there, the tree lines will protect us from their line of sight for the next four to five miles as the road leads us toward the bend. Our path to town loops us around their position. Once we get to within two miles of the bend, we’ll be exposed to their line of sight before the road dips behind the mountain.”

  “But if we make it to the dip behind the mountains…”

  “We should be home free,” he said, “provided they don’t change their position.”

  “We’ve made it this far,” she said.

  “How’s your leg?” he asked.

  “It’s throbbing,” she replied, “but not bleeding.”

  “Good,” Sam replied. “There is some Dolophine in my bag. Fish it out and take just one. It’s powerful and I don’t want you loopy in case you need to drive.”

  “Why would I need to drive?” she asked.

  He paused. “You won’t,” he said, finally. “Just in case.”

  Vandy pulled the bag and opened it, retrieving the Dolophine.

  Sam pulled away, moving slowly. The icy roads were covered in a thick blanket of snow, enabling the vehicle to move no more than 15 miles per hour. The vehicle trudged along slowly but seemed to maintain traction.

  “You’re handling this quite well,” he said. “I expected more panic from you, frankly.”

  She looked at him and smiled. It was all him—all Sam Steele. She trusted the cowboy. The only time she panicked was when she thought she might lose him. When she was with him, she felt safe—protected.

  “I’m stronger than you think,” she said.

  “You are indeed,” he replied, smiling at her. The smile warmed her heart.

  “You were amazing back there,” she said.

  “We’re not out of the woods yet,” Sam replied. “We have a very big moment of truth coming up. I think we’re okay for now, but in about two miles, we’ll start to worry.”

  They drove along slowly for a few moments in silence. Vandy seemed deep in thought, reflective.

  “What are you thinking?” Sam asked.

  “Just about our earlier conversation,” she said. “I still don’t think it’s my husband.”

  “Then who?”

  “That’s just it, I don’t know.”

  “Who knew you were coming here?” Sam asked. “Let’s start there.”

  “There’s Pam, my best friend and chief of staff. There’s Uncle Randall, my husband, my doctor...”

  “I almost forgot. Check my cell phone,” he said, pulling it from his coat pocket.

  “Why?”

  “As we get closer to town, sooner or later, we’re bound to pick up a signal.”

  She turned on the phone, “No signal she said, after it booted. We’ll try again in a few minutes.”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me about Pam,” Sam said.
>
  “Oh, it wouldn’t be her,” Vandy scoffed. “She’s been my best friend for more years than I care to remember.”

  “But she knew you were coming here?” he asked.

  “Yeah, she arranged it,” Vandy said. “She’d actually been planning it.”

  “Planning it?” Sam repeated.

  “Yes, but she pushed hard to send a security team with me.”

  “A security team?” Sam repeated.

  “Yes. I didn’t allow it.”

  “Were these people that you knew or she knew?”

  Vandy paused momentarily. “We both knew them. He more than me.”

  “And she planned the trip?”

  “Hmm, yes,” Vandy admitted. “When Dr. Charles recommended I check into a facility, she had this trip all wrapped up in a neat little package.”

  “You and her having any problems?” Sam asked.

  “No,” Vandy replied. “I mean this FTC investigation has her stressed like all of us but…”

  “But what?”

  Vandy’s brain began to swirl. Pam knew that she was close to having a nervous breakdown, yet she was the one who set her up in that interview with that awful Marina Mayes. She knew that Cameron had filed for custody of Lindsay earlier that day. Marina said she received the information anonymously. Only Cameron and Pam knew about it. It could have been an administrative person at the courthouse, but if that had been the case, they would have wanted to be paid for the information. They could not have arranged it that quickly.

  Could Pam have set that whole Entertainment Tonight ambush up to send her over the edge into a nervous breakdown? Pam also tried to keep this trip secret from her Uncle Randall, even when she personally instructed her to tell him. If Vandy had not spoken to Randall herself, he would not have known about it, and he would have never engaged the Brotherhood Protectors. In which case, she’d be dead now.

  “I can’t believe this,” Vandy said. “It’s Pam. Pam is the one doing this.”

  “Would she benefit in some manner if you died?” he asked.

  Vandy nodded, “I hadn’t even thought about it. Pam is a large stockholder. Much of her net worth is tied up in my company’s stock, but most of it is not vested. But my death would trigger a change in ownership. I have a golden parachute with her because I wanted her to be taken care of. If I die, all her options become fully vested and with any change of ownership she would have exercised the buyout clause in her contract. She would get a huge severance and make tens of millions.”

  “Sounds like motivation to me,” he said.

  “Fuck!” Vandy screamed. “On the satellite phone, I’m the one who told her where you lived.”

  “She asked where I lived?” Sam wondered.

  “Yes, she did,” Vandy replied. “You told me and I told her.”

  “And an hour later the men show up at the cabin,” Sam noted. “That’s how they knew who I was and where I lived.

  “Dammit, it could only be her. That bitch is even in my will. Fuck! How could I be so stupid?”

  “How do you think she arranged all this?” Sam said.

  “Her ex-husband,” Vandy said. “He owns the cabin. He was in the military too, some sort of black ops. And… he now owns a distribution company.”

  “Which probably has a maroon Peterbilt in its fleet,” Sam said.

  “No doubt. She is the one who set me up with that horrible Marina May for the interview on national television. She knew about Cameron petitioning the court for full custody of Lindsay. She admitted that. Later, Marina said the story was leaked to her anonymously. It was Pam—it had to be.”

  “The question is why.”

  “For money, I’m sure,” Vandy said. “I’m such an idiot. It was right in front of my face all this time. Uncle Randall warned me about her but I…”

  “But she wanted to send a security team with you?” Sam said.

  “I can’t figure that one out…”

  Vandy’s sentence was interrupted by the sound of two bullets popping through the windshield. One landed in the console of the vehicle. The other…

  “Oh my god!” Vandy screamed. “Sam! You’re hit.”

  Chapter 17

  Sam had taken a bullet in his right shoulder. He grimaced in pain. He saw the direction the bullet came from and swerved off the road behind a clump of trees. He stopped the vehicle.

  “They moved position,” he said, reaching his hand into his coat and feeling the wound. “I thought we had another mile before we reached their line of sight. Dammit. They knew we were coming down this road and they moved their position.”

  “How badly are you hurt?” she asked.

  “I can drive,” he said.

  “No, you can’t,” she said. “You’re hurt. I’ll drive.”

  “Like hell you will,” he said.

  “Sam, you’re hurt...”

  “I can’t protect you here,” he said. “We have to move. If we don’t move they’ll come for us. We’ll be sitting ducks. We have to move.”

  “Grab me a heavy bandage from the back, will you? I need to put some pressure on this and slow the bleeding.”

  “I’ll get it out of your bag,” she said.

  “Stay back there. You need to get in back on the floorboard again.”

  Vandy retrieved the bandage and handed it to him, but did not move to the back seat, “I’m staying up front with you.”

  “No, Vandy, please do as I say,” he pleaded. “I can’t protect you if you don’t do as I say.”

  “You’ll be killed, you big fucking idiot,” she cried. “You’re sacrificing yourself for me. You’re going to drive straight into them. You’ll be a sitting duck. I can’t allow you to just die for me.”

  “Vandy, please.”

  “You knew this was going to happen the whole time, you dumb asshole,” she screamed. “I can’t let you die for me.”

  “There’s no other choice. You see that ridge up ahead?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “From the angle of the shot that hit me, I can tell, they have moved position. For the next mile, this Tahoe is going to be moving pretty much toward them. We have to make it to the bend or we’re dead. They know this. I have to drive. The safest place for you is in the back on the floor board.”

  “I’m not getting back there,” she said. Tears began to stream down her cheeks.

  “Please do it Vandy,” he begged. “Do it for me.”

  “No, I won’t,” she cried out.

  “Vandy, if I know you are back there out of harm’s way I can do this,” he said. “I can make it to the bend.”

  “They will kill you,” she said.

  “If you do as I say, I can get you to safety. I know it. Please, Vandy. It’s the only way.”

  “Why would you do this?”

  “In my heart, I’ll always be a Ranger. This is what we do. And besides, I’m beginning to actually like you.”

  “Sam…”

  He smiled, “Now move.”

  She threw her arms around him, and began to kiss his mouth and his face. Sam tasted the tears that had streamed down her face.

  “I’d love to do more of this,” he said, “but we have to move… now.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, kissing his mouth one last time before releasing him. “I got carried away.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Now get in the back. Take my phone with you. Keep checking for signal.”

  Vandy winced in pain herself as she crawled in the back. She got into position. Sam pulled away.

  “Hang on,” he said. “They showed me earlier they have trouble with moving targets. I’m going to go fast and swerve left and right. I’m gonna see if we can make this a harder target to hit.”

  Sam threw the car into gear and hit the gas. The rear of the vehicle slid as the tires spun in the ice but Sam managed to maneuver the Tahoe back onto the road. The Tahoe accelerated down the snow-covered road dangerously fast. The first bullet bore through the hood. Sam prayed
that the shooters didn’t hit something critical and caused the engine to fail. The next bullet smashed through the windshield on the passenger side and clear through the passenger seat—right where Vandy had been sitting just a moment earlier.

  Vandy screamed when the bullet passed all the way through the passenger seat. “Holy shit! That would have killed me.”

  The vehicle was picking up speed, moving over 60 mph now, dangerously fast for an icy road. He was swerving to the left, then to the right. It was harder to control the vehicle and slowing the Tahoe’s momentum but he was sure it was making them a harder target to hit. He looked ahead. Three-quarters of a mile to go before the bend. The next bullet demolished the driver’s side mirror. Sam slid as far down into the seat as possible, trying to make himself as small of a target as possible. He scrunched down low enough to barely be able to look over the dash to see to drive.

  The Tahoe passed the shooter’s position, making the shooting angle different. The vehicle’s driver’s side would now be most exposed. Sam guessed the shooter was not more than 50 yards away. This was his moment of truth, Sam thought. This is where he would be most vulnerable.

  Sam heard a bullet piercing metal; the front left quarter panel had been hit. Another sound of a bullet passing through metal—the rear quarter panel.

  Less than a half a mile, he thought.

  “Just a little longer Vandy,” he yelled. “Hold tight.”

  “I holding on as fucking tight as I can!” she screamed.

  Two more bullets went through the front quarter panel and into engine of the Tahoe. Sam saw white steam spewing from the holes. They had hit the radiator. They didn’t have much time left before the vehicle would overheat and the engine would die. In the next quarter mile Sam decided to hit the gas and drive as straight as he could.

  The next bullet hit the driver side door; the bullet went clean through and lodged in Sam’s left side. He yelled out in pain.

  “Sam! Sam!” screamed Vandy, realizing he’d been hit. She sat up to see how badly he was hurt.

  “Get down!” Sam howled. “We’re almost there. We should get a cell signal any minute now. Call 9-1-1.”