Brad would succeed. His father had been his first kill. Well, Sam would be his first save—the first time since his mother had died that he cared about someone besides himself.
Just outside the dilapidated building Zach and three of his brothers eased around the trees edging the property. Zach signaled to them. His brothers nodded, then Seth and Gabe headed around the corner toward the back entrance.
Seth stopped abruptly and pointed to a nearly invisible wire spread across the lawn.
Booby traps.
Great.
Zach communicated the information silently to Luke while Seth warned Gabe. He acknowledged the signal. They’d have to be very careful. No storming in. Farzam might be crazy wanting revenge, but he obviously wasn’t stupid.
They stepped carefully toward the front door. Zach eased around some misplaced dirt, then flicked a bit away.
A makeshift mine.
After uncovering yet another explosive device, Zach’s heart sped up. This was taking too long, but he couldn’t help Jenna and Sam if a terrorist bomb took out the rescue team.
A birdcall sounded from around back. Seth. Crazy guy had gotten where he could imitate almost any bird that existed.
Everyone was in place and ready.
Zach looked at Luke.
His brother met his gaze, calm, certain, and deadly. Zach held up his hand and counted down.
Five, four, three, two…
Go!
Zach shoved his good shoulder through the door. The wood exploded into the room. Seth and Gabe slammed through the back at the same time.
Farzam whirled around, momentarily stunned, his back to Jenna.
Zach didn’t hesitate. Thanks to the video, he and his brothers knew the layout of the room. He raced to a bruised and battered Jenna, gun raised. “Get down,” he yelled.
Simultaneously, his peripheral vision scanned the room. Where was Sam?
Her poor face screwed up in effort. Straining against the ropes binding her, Jenna rocked the chair, knocking Farzam off balance. The furniture tilted on two legs. Her shoulder slammed into the floor. The wood broke under the impact.
Farzam fell back and rolled to Jenna. Time slowed. He whipped the barrel of the submachine gun at Zach. Bullets thwacked against the wood, ripping through the walls. Zach leapt out of the way. Luke dove to the side. Seth and Gabe followed.
The bastard grabbed Jenna, shoving the broken chair aside, and used her as his shield. He scooted toward the corner.
“Don’t move or she dies now.” Farzam shoved the gun into Jenna’s side and opened his jacket.
Everyone stilled.
The guy had strapped what looked like blocks of C4 to his chest. He held a small detonator. His fingers shook as they gripped the device.
Zach faced the man he had met only once at a civilized university tea. He bore no resemblance to the man Zach had known. Farzam’s eyes were wild, determined—and totally insane.
Seth eased to the side slightly; Luke and Gabe shifted, too, but none of them had a good angle. Seth gave a slight shake of his head. If they tried it, Jenna was dead.
“Khalid killed my son, Zane Morgan,” Farzam said. “I have nothing to lose.”
“What about your wife?”
“I am no longer a man to her. You ruined me. You and Pendar and your stupid, grandiose dreams. You don’t care who suffers for your selfishness.”
Zach shut his eyes against the truth in Farzam’s words. “I didn’t want Pendar to pay. He wanted freedom for his wife and daughters. He came to me.”
“And all he found was death.” Farzam’s expression grew cold. “An eye for an eye.”
He shifted, his finger tightening over the detonator.
A branch crunched outside the open front door. Farzam looked up.
Zach took advantage of the distraction. He tackled Farzam, stripping the detonator from his hand. Seth grabbed the semi-automatic from Farzam’s other hand.
Jenna scrambled away, shoving free of the loosened ropes, only to collapse near the back door.
“No!” Farzam slipped a knife from its sheath and slashed at Zach’s face. They staggered to their feet. “You die!”
“Not today.” Zach spun around and shoved the heel of his hand up and back into Farzam’s nose. Bones shattered and drove into the man’s brain. Farzam crumbled to the ground. Dead.
“Not today?” Theresa’s voice came in through the doorway. “I wouldn’t bet on that, Zach.”
He turned. Damn it. He hated being proved right.
Theresa.
The woman he’d trusted with his life for five years stood in the doorway, a very familiar, very deadly weapon in her hand, her eyes lifeless, cold, and vicious. “You know I always have a backup plan.” Smiling, she pressed the timer down. “Sorry about the collateral damage. You should have just died on the road outside Istanbul, Zach. It would have been so much cleaner.”
She tossed the device into a pile of trash in the corner.
“Bomb!” Zach yelled at his brothers. “Get out! Now!”
He scooped Jenna into his arms. His legs pumped across the floor.
A whirring noise whined, then went silent.
God, no. They wouldn’t make it.
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
* * *
“WHAT THE HELL are you doing?” Brad tackled Theresa to the ground. “My son is in there!”
The house burst into a fireball, and flaming debris catapulted around them. An inferno erupted into the sky, secondary explosions discharging like deadly munitions.
“Too late, you fool.” She smashed her elbow into his windpipe, then rolled to her feet.
Brad fell to his knees. He clutched his throat and lay choking in the dirt, barely able to hear over the roaring fire. Waves of heat pelted his face, but he couldn’t move. Sam was gone. He’d failed again.
She aimed an Afghani-made weapon at his head. “I don’t do loose ends.”
Fury consumed Brad as he stared up at the woman who had pulled his strings for the last eighteen months. That day, she’d left a not-so-subtle message on his doorstep—a blood-covered baseball glove. The meaning had been clear. She could get to his son. He’d wanted to end their association. Too many jobs for one client wasn’t smart business. But somehow she’d uncovered his identity.
He’d agreed to continue their association but he hadn’t liked it. Unfortunately, she was smart, and soulless. Raging fire highlighted her eyes—the pupils glowing red, like pure evil. Even he had rules. He didn’t murder children, for one. Theresa had no boundaries. Never had.
“You’ve made a mistake, bitch.”
“I know. You’re alive. You’d have made my life a lot simpler if you’d been in the house, too, but the gun ought to take care of it. Farzam’s body will be unidentifiable, but I’ll get the same credit for bringing down the Chameleon.”
She stepped closer. “I’d hoped I could salvage you as an asset. I even confiscated your wife’s evidence. She hid it under her father’s name, ironically enough.” Theresa held up a small folder. “Too bad you’re useless.”
Jenna’s folder. There it was. What Brad needed to start a new life. Like he cared anymore. He wanted one thing now—Theresa Banyon dead.
“This made interesting reading. Does Montgomery know you killed his father?”
All Brad wanted to do was to get his hands around her neck and squeeze, but he had to play it smart to kill her. “We can work this out, Theresa.”
“Not happening, Walters. Maybe I’ll tap your contacts myself. You won’t be needing them.”
A loud shuffling erupted from the nearby trees.
“Daddy!” Sam bolted out of a thicket of pine and aspen and skidded over to Brad. “Mommy’s in the house!” He pointed to the fire. “Save her!”
“Sam, no! Get out of here. Run!”
Theresa turned the gun on the boy. “Not another step, brat.”
Sam froze in place, only a couple of feet from the madwoman.
She glanced at Brad and chuckled. “Your son, Chameleon. He picked a really bad time to return. The fire department and cops will be here soon. I don’t have time to stay and chat anymore.”
She aimed the weapon at Sam.
“No!” Brad lurched from the ground and heaved himself in front of her just as the weapon discharged. The bullet struck his chest, then exploded inside him. He knocked Sam down, covering his son with his body. Blood poured from the gaping chest wound, but there was nothing Brad could do.
He was dying.
Sam was alive.
Jenna lay half-pinned beneath Zach, fire and debris raining over them. Scarlet flames and plumes of smoke obliterated the sky. She looked to her left.
Gabe lay on the ground, unconscious and unmoving, pinned under several large, smoldering logs. Luke groaned and crawled to his brother, tugging at the wood. “Gabe,” he rasped. “Hang in there.”
Seth sat up just beyond his brothers, holding his bleeding head.
“Help me, Seth,” Luke said, tugging at the heavy wood. “They’re burning him.”
“Daddy!”
“Sam?” The sound of her son’s scream and a gunshot had her up and running, then staggering as the pain in her cracked ribs hit.
Gritting her teeth, she bolted around the corner. A woman bent over a bloody body on the ground. Oh God. Brad. She recognized his hair, the figure. Sam was struggling to pull himself free of the weight of his father’s legs.
“Shut up, brat.” The woman took a bead on Sam’s head.
“Theresa, stop!”
At Zach’s command, the woman whirled around. Jenna didn’t pause to think. She dove at Theresa. The woman screamed. Bullets whizzed by Jenna’s head, but she hit Theresa in the gut with a full tackle and took her down. Jenna cried out in agony. Pain exploded in her chest, more ribs cracking. Theresa lifted her gun. Jenna didn’t hesitate. She slammed her knuckle into the woman’s throat.
A crack sounded. Theresa choked, then tightened her hand on the trigger.
She fired.
At that exact second, Zach’s bullet shattered her skull.
Jenna lay panting on the ground. Theresa was dead, her brains splattered on the ground. Sam was safe.
“Mommy…help…”
Her son’s bubbling rasp terrified Jenna. She rolled clear of Theresa’s body, horrified to see blood spreading from a blackened hole in her son’s shirt.
“Sam!” She lurched to him.
Her son looked at her, tears in his eyes. He stared at his chest. “It hurts, Mommy.”
His eyelids flickered.
She clutched him and lifted the material. Blood flowed from the wound. This couldn’t be happening. “No, baby. You’re going to be fine. Mommy’s here. Zach!” she screamed. “Sam’s hit!”
“Shit!” Zack raced over, tore off his shirt, then pressed the cleanest side against Sam’s wound. “Luke,” he shouted. “Call an ambulance. Seth, get over here and help me staunch the flow. Gabe, make sure that bitch is dead.”
No one responded.
Jenna looked up. Luke and Seth carried a groggy Gabe, but Luke still had a phone to his ear.
“Help’s coming, baby,” Jenna said, touching his forehead. “It’ll be OK.”
“I’m…sorry, Mommy…” Sam’s voice was weak.
Jenna bent down and whispered in his ear. “No way, Junior Avenger. You’re not leaving me.”
She couldn’t stop the tears.
“I love you, Mommy.”
He whimpered then went limp in her arms.
Zach paced the hospital room, hating the beeping of the machines hooked up to Sam’s frail body. Surgery had taken hours, and Sam had barely moved since they’d brought him to this room.
“Sit down, Zach.” Jenna, her eyes swollen and her face bruised and mottled, patted the hospital chair beside her, right next to Sam’s bed.
Zach sat and gently took her hand, wincing at the bandaged wrists. He cupped her injured cheek, his gaze tender. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
She shook her head. “You saved me. Another few seconds and he would have killed me.”
Jenna bit her lip and stroked her son’s hand. “Sam’s going to be fine. I know he is.” She shifted in her chair, but groaned at the slight movement.
“You need to see the doctor? You need more pain pills?”
“No, Zach, I need you,” she said hoarsely, leaning into him. “Stay with me until Sam opens his eyes.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, feeling like his heart would shatter at the faith in her eyes. He tucked her close and stroked her hair. He wouldn’t leave her until Sam woke up.
And he had to wake up.
A man pushed aside the curtain and peered into the room. The suit gave the guy away. Zach palmed his father’s 1911 and held his finger over the trigger.
Caleb, Nick, Luke, and a bandaged Seth followed the Company rep in.
The visitor’s gaze swept the occupants, then stopped on Zach, a flash of pity showing before the businesslike demeanor slipped into place, disguising the man’s emotions. “Zachariah Montgomery?”
Zach rose and stood protectively in front of Sam and Jenna. He made his weapon visible. “Who’s asking?” he said in challenge.
The man backed off. He didn’t attack, just cocked his brow at Zach.
Interesting.
“Stand down. Gavin Sterling. I’m your new boss.”
Zach tensed and raised the weapon. “Prove it. Sir. ID?”
“He’s legit,” Seth interrupted. “We wouldn’t have let him in otherwise.”
Zach pocketed his weapon.
Sterling shoved his identification holder back into his inside jacket. “I should start with a thank-you. Taking Theresa Banyon out tonight solves a potentially embarrassing problem for us. Evidently, she’s been working her own game for the last year and a half. We just caught on to it, thanks to you.”
“That’s not why you flew from DC to Colorado, though, is it?”
Sterling studied Zach. “You’re better than I expected, to be honest. Cards on the table, I need to find out what I can do to keep this situation quiet. Whatever you and your family want, Zach. If it’s in my power, you’ve got it.”
Zach stared at Sam, then Jenna. He looked one by one at his brothers. As hard as he’d tried to push them away, now they almost thought as a unit. Even more so than when they’d been kids. No longer did Zach feel apart and different. He was the same. He was a Montgomery.
“The family doesn’t need anything,” Zach said. With that, his brothers nodded their agreement and disappeared into the hallway.
“But I want Jenna to receive all of Brad Walters’s assets and a new identity. Too many people could know about their relationship to me after tonight. I want them safe.”
Jenna stood and grabbed Zach’s arm. “What about you?”
He turned to her and toyed with the wayward hair near her temple. “This is what we planned. To make sure you’re safe. It’s the best way, honey.”
Sterling cleared his throat. “Not necessarily. Theresa lied about your cover being blown. She put together a sophisticated paper trail, but it fell apart after we tugged a few strings. You could go back to the Middle East tomorrow. If you chose to.”
Zach stilled. “Why would she do this? Why did she want me dead?”
“We don’t know yet. We’re looking into it. We can tell you she put in for my job about eighteen months ago.”
“That’s crazy. Do all of this for a promotion?”
“There’s also the several million dollars in offshore accounts. So far.”
Zach rubbed his temple. “I thought I knew her. She trained me. I trusted her.”
“We all did.”
He searched his mind for signs, or clues. He faced Sterling. “I did some unauthorized research on my father’s military career not long ago,” he admitted. “She mentioned it as a reason I was being targeted. She was smart. The more lies, the more you have to rem
ember. Review the files. You might find something.”
“Thanks for the tip. You didn’t have to tell me that,” Sterling said, his expression contemplative. “Are you certain you don’t want to continue working for the Company?”
Jenna laced her fingers through Zach’s hand. He looked over at the woman who had changed his life. In her eyes he saw complete support, complete faith, complete trust. Sterling had just offered Zach everything he’d wanted when this entire mess began. And she stood by him.
Now, though, he simply didn’t want his old life. He wanted a new life. With her.
Sterling looked from Zach to Jenna and then at Sam. “I suspect I know your answer.”
“Not to be ungrateful, sir, but I’ve found something infinitely more interesting than taking out bad guys.” Careful of her injuries, Zach gently tucked Jenna against him.
She leaned over to him. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
He lowered his head. “I wanted to prove myself. To my father. To my family. Maybe even to you, Jenna. I don’t have to do that anymore. There are other ways to help people, and to help my country.”
She gave him a bright smile and he kissed her lips gently.
“No, sir. I think I’m done.”
“Then good luck. I envy you what you’ve found,” Sterling said, his expression strangely enigmatic. “Hold on to her.”
“I hope I can.”
Sterling cleared his throat. “Very well. I accept your resignation as an undercover operative. All trace of your identity will be expunged from the records and database. You should be able to live a normal life.” He tossed a file on the bedside table. “One last piece of business. You might want to read this over. It’s a copy of the evidence file found near Theresa’s body. I’m sorry to tell you, but Brad Walters, aka. the Chameleon, was the hired gunman in your father’s assassination. It’s on page twenty-three, at the top. Street. Time. Date. Your father’s initials. Million-dollar hit. It took me a while to confirm everything, but all the travel records and the Chameleon’s aliases match up.”
Jenna’s gasp broke through Zach’s numbness. “Brad killed Patrick Montgomery?” she asked, pleading for it not to be true.
Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel) Page 27