Texas Stand-Off

by Sable Hunter

  “Yes, it is.” Deacon stepped forward and they shook hands before Grey pulled him close for a manly hug.

  They exchanged a few words before returning to where she and Dallas stood waiting. “I don’t have to ask who this is. Those selfies you sent Athena are now in a frame on our mantel. Natasha, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

  “You too, Sir. Thank you for everything.”

  “No thanks necessary, if you’re as good as Athena and Deacon say you are, I’m prepared to be impressed.”

  Deacon looked as surprised at Grey’s answer as Taz felt.

  “McClain, I presume?” Grey turned his attention to the Ranger. “Do you have the little Taylor boy’s medicine ready?”

  “We do.”

  “I presume you have an EMT unit on stand-by.” Not waiting for an answer, he went on. “Bring it on in. I want it to take my team member to the gate when it’s time. We’ve got to make this thing look real. No room for mistakes.”

  “You got it, Mr. Holden.” McClain moved away to ensure all of his bases were covered.

  “You two come with me, we don’t have much time.” He strode off leaving Deacon and Taz to follow along behind. She glanced at Deacon, unsure if she was welcome. He didn’t make eye contact with her at all. A uniformed cop opened the door for them, showing Grey to a small study the Baxter’s had welcomed them to use. When they were all inside the door, Grey closed it, motioning for them both to sit down. “I suspect you were surprised to find out I was coming.”

  Taz didn’t reply, but Deacon did. “This is important. I’m not surprised you wanted in on it. Like you said, we don’t want another Waco or Ruby Ridge. I’m ready to do what needs to be done. You can count on me.”

  Grey leaned back and let out a long breath. “I have no doubt about that, Deacon. But this time you’re going to have to stand down. Natasha will be going in.”

  Taz didn’t believe her ears and looking at Deacon, she didn’t believe her eyes. He blanched white.

  “Grey, I’d like to talk to you–now.”

  Grey winked at Taz and followed his friend out. Taz just sat there dumbfounded. She could do it; she knew she could. While they were gone, she took out the drawing of the house and grounds and began to memorize them.

  Outside, Deacon exploded. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? What are you thinking? What possible…?”

  “Stand down, Jones. I’m your friend, but I was your Superior Officer and now I’m your boss. You can always assume I have thought things through.”

  Deacon took a breath. “With due respect, Sir,” he emphasized the last word, “I request that you send me in instead of Natasha. She’s–”

  “As good as you, I believe you said.” Grey saw the look of unspoken agreement in Deacon’s eyes even as anguish played over his features. “Look, I have my reasons if you’re willing to listen.”

  “Go ahead.” Deacon muttered, his innate trust of Grey warring with his worry for Taz.

  Grey placed a hand on Deacon’s shoulder and led him into a vacant room with chairs flanking a fireplace. “Let’s sit.” They did, and Grey leaned toward Deacon with his forearms resting on his knees. “First, the initial picture Natasha presents is one of weakness. Their guard will not be up at the first sight of her. She can do more, say more, observe with greater ease than you or I could.”

  Deacon started to argue, but Grey held up his hand. “I’m not through. I knew from the moment we spoke that you’d go in–no matter what I asked you to do.” When Deacon would’ve protested, Grey smiled. “I’m no fool, Jones. I can read the signs. I’ve been where you are. I would protect Athena with my life, but I had to learn to trust her. What you don’t know, and what I’ve come to tell you is that neither you nor I should go into that situation because Ainsley’s son’s wife is Sylvia’s friend, the former Lisa Foster. She was at your wedding. She would recognize either one of us and she knows our background. Lisa knows we aren’t doctors or EMT’s, she could very well give us away. We cannot take that risk.” He pinned Deacon with a stare. “You know as well as I do, other than you and I…” he pointed around, as if to indicate all of the Rangers and police personnel surrounding them, “there is no one more qualified or capable than she is. She was expertly trained by a man who had a vested interest in making her a beautiful, but deadly killing machine.”

  The information Grey gave Deacon sank in. “I don’t like it, but I understand.” He felt an icy chill seep into his bones. “Let’s get ready.”

  Over the next couple of hours, Taz prepared. She spent time being coached by the EMT on what to look for with Mickey and the best way to help him. She also listened and asked questions as Deacon and Grey went over every possible scenario with her. “You’ll be wearing a one-way transmitter,” Grey said. He gave her a small ornate clip for her hair. “We’ll be able to hear what’s going on. Let us know what you can in as natural a way as possible. Talk to the little boy. We want to know his condition. Describe it. We’ll have a real EMT listening so we’ll know what to expect when he gets out. You’ll have to do some negotiating yourself, try to convince them to let you leave with the child. If that isn’t possible, you’re going to have to evaluate the situation. Can you escape? You’ll have to assess where they are, their moods, if there’s any give in their demands, what kind of firepower they have.”

  Deacon shut his eyes. Fear he’d never known made him physically ill. There were so many things that could go wrong. If it was him walking into this unknown landmine of danger, he was better prepared to think on his feet. Taz, while highly skilled, had no practical experience. “What weapons are you planning for Taz to have on her?”

  Taz started to speak, but Grey jumped in first. “I’m glad you asked.” He rose to leave. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back with something to show you.”

  Once he was gone, Taz didn’t know where to look. Seeing the disapproval and distrust on Deacon’s face was counterproductive to her mission. But she had to say something… “I know your opinion of me is not very high. I will do this, Deacon. I will not let you or the team down.”

  “You’re not part of the damn team,” he grated the words out between his teeth. “This is not a job you should be doing at all. Tell Grey you don’t want to do this. You don’t have to do this.”

  His lack of faith in her almost caused Taz to wilt. “You won’t be ashamed of me, I promise.”

  Deacon lost it. He stood, grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled Taz to her feet. “I’m not worried about being ashamed or disappointed. Don’t you understand? I’m scared for your safety!”

  His admission surprised Taz. “There’s no need.”

  “There’s every need.” Unable to resist, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard, uncaring of who might see.

  Shocked, Taz raised a hand to touch his shoulder, then let it drop. She didn’t get a chance to kiss him back, it was done and over before she could respond. “Deacon…”

  “Not the time,” Grey announced as he returned with what looked to be a small EMT bag. “Stocked inside of this should be everything you’ll need, but there’s also some extras.” He showed her two secret pockets sewn into the lining, yet camouflaged with leather flaps that contained syringes, scissors, gauze, anything she would need. “Behind these areas we have a knife and a gun. Two of these syringes are loaded with a powerful sedative, if you find an opportunity to use them.”

  Deacon groaned. “Thank you, Q. Jane Bond is prepared for every eventuality.”

  “I believe she is, Jones.” He smiled at Taz. “From Deacon’s reports, you didn’t tell him the full extent of the training your father put you through.”

  “No.” Taz shook her head. “I didn’t really get a chance to, not that it would’ve made a difference.”

  Deacon ignored her polite jab. “I know Mikael worked with her. She’s an expert marksman, her knife throwing is spot-on, she can hold her own in hand-to-hand and her endurance is amazing. She just hasn’t had the experience.”


  Grey put his arm around Deacon’s shoulders. “What she failed to tell you is that she went through the same strenuous training as the new FBI recruits. They are faced with multiple scenarios, trained to make split-second decisions and strategize themselves out of dangerous situations. She passed with flying colors.”

  “How?”

  “Her father was on faculty; I believe she told you that.”

  Taz smiled at the memory. “Yes, my favorite part was the Yellow Brick Road.”

  Despite his worry, he couldn’t resist, Deacon smiled back. “I can’t say I’m surprised, Dorothy.” He knew she was referring to the legendary, grueling, six-mile fitness challenge over a hilly, wooded trail built by Marines. The participants have to scale rock walls, crawl under barbed wire, ford creeks and run up and down steep grades. “Did you win your Yellow Brick?” The practice of marking the path with yellow bricks led to the name and the practice of awarding them to the ones able to complete the course.

  “Several times, but I was doing it for fun, so I didn’t get to keep it.” So far, that was the story of her life. She’d had a mother who betrayed her, a father who died, a home she’d had to leave–and now Deacon. There was no use getting attached to anything or anyone, she didn’t get to keep them.

  “All right, enough of this. We need to get this ball rolling.” Grey started for the door. “I’m going to get everyone else ready. Taz do what you need to do and put on your vest–it’s time.”

  As soon as Grey was gone, Deacon raised his hand to gently touch her face. Putting a finger under her chin, he lifted it. “I don’t like this. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat, but I do have faith in you.” He claimed a short, sweet kiss. “You can do this. But I’m telling you right now to be careful. Do not take any unnecessary chances. I will be as close as Grey will allow and if you get in trouble, you call my name. I’ll move heaven and earth to get to you.”

  Taz was mesmerized by his words, the look on his face. “Okay.”

  “And if you get hurt, I swear to God…”

  “You’ll spank my sexy little butt?”

  Deacon let out a harsh desperate laugh. “At least. Do. Not. Get. Yourself. Killed. Understand?”

  Nodding, Taz threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you for being good to me.”

  A knot lodged in Deacon’s throat. He started to tell her it hadn’t been a chore, she’d been the one who was good to him–but Grey called her name–and then she was gone.

  * * *

  As the EMT vehicle made its way to the gate leading onto the Ainsley’s property, Taz mentally reviewed everything. She touched the small transmitter, ensuring it was in place. The vest she wore was snug, didn’t allow for much breast room. Taz smiled, adjusting the small latch as much as she could.

  “Now, you’re clear on what to do for the kid?” Morris asked for the third time.

  “Yes.” She patted the bag containing her weapons as well as the medical supplies she would need. Just before she’d boarded the ambulance, the Zachary’s had arrived. Neither seemed surprised she would be the one going in. Melissa had begged her to save her child and Tex had thanked her for being willing to go in.

  Grey seemed the most assured. He’d given her a wink and let her say a few words to Athena on the phone. Like Grey, Athena was positive and encouraging. Taz felt much better after talking to her friend. The last person she’d seen was Deacon and he hadn’t said any more, but the look they’d exchanged melted her heart. She was afraid to assume what it meant, but his eyes had locked with hers as if he were willing her to be safe.

  As her father taught her, she centered herself, focused on the task at hand and put her fears and other emotional entanglements to one side for now. Her goal was to tend Mickey, gather information and if possible, get out safely with the child. What else might transpire, they couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t going in to diffuse the situation, but if opportunity or necessity arose, she’d be ready.

  The road they were traveling was rough and bumpy, she swayed from one side to the other with the vehicle. “Morris? You will be standing by?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The EMT glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. “I’ll be at the front gate.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.” Grey also told her he and Deacon would be near the fence-line that served as the boundary between Ainsley and Baxter property. They’d been told how one officer received sniper fire when they’d attempted to enter that way, so their actions would depend on any information Taz could provide or if she ran into trouble.

  Trouble. She hoped this went smoothly, but one thing her father always told her was to expect trouble, prepare for trouble, then nothing caught you off guard. Closing her eyes, she offered up a quick prayer for all concerned. She prayed for protection, she prayed for Mickey and she prayed Deacon would forgive her. That wasn’t too much to ask–was it? Taz hadn’t been faithful, she hadn’t darkened a church door in years. But she was sure God watched over her. Taking a deep breath, she added a hasty postscript to her petition. “Please God, I’m not asking for a miracle. But if there’s any way Deacon could see it in his heart to let me stay…” The truth hit her hard. Her priorities had changed. She still wanted to be on the Omega Team, if possible, but she’d trade that honor and anything else she’d ever possess for a chance to be part of his life. “Please let him want to keep me.”

  “We’re here, Miss.” Morris announced. “I see someone coming up to the gate and they have a gun.”

  Taz looked over the front seat. The gate to the Ainsley property was painted red, white and blue like the Texas flag. She’d forever have this image stamped in her mind, a symbol of the stand-off. Texas was famous for those. The battle of the Alamo came to mind. Of course, this was not the same, but she did feel for the Ainsley man and his family. All they’d wanted to do was preserve their land, their family heritage. If these other individuals hadn’t become involved, perhaps a resolution could’ve been reached.

  “It’s all right, let me out and you can back a safe distance away. This is exactly what we expected. They’re coming to make sure we’re abiding by their rules.”

  “But you’re not…”

  His voice trailed off when the man drew nearer the gate. “Yes, Morris, I’m…prepared, but I have to appear harmless.”

  As Morris watched the small woman make her way up to the burly, bewhiskered man who stood staunchly with an AK-47 pointed straight at her, he admitted she looked more than harmless. The image of a kitten facing down a Rottweiler came to mind. What those men were thinking sending this little girl into the middle of a stand-off was a mystery to him. “Well, I’m getting outta here while the gettins’ good.” He shook his grey head and skedaddled to a safe distance to await further orders.

  “You the doc?” Ron Helmer pointed a gun straight at her.

  “Yes,” Taz answered confidently as she strode up to within six inches of the end of the barrel.

  “Set your bag down and open it up.” She didn’t hesitate, knowing full well the items were hidden, buried in a padded lining. “How is Mickey?”

  “Shut up. I ask the questions.” He kicked the bag, jostling the contents. Taz was tempted to wrestle his gun from him. He was overweight, winded and reminded her of a redneck keystone cop.

  She chose to ignore him. “How is Mickey?” she repeated.

  “Looks fine to me, just sits and watches cartoons with the little girl. Always drinking cokes. Sleeps a lot.”

  “Take me to him, those are signs of a diabetic complication.”

  “Well if they are, every kid I’ve ever met has it.” He reached out and jerked her by the collar of her jacket, throwing her forward. She stumbled, but didn’t fall. Reaching back, she grabbed her bag before moving in the direction he indicated. The hard tip of the gun was poked into her back. She knew she’d have a bruise tomorrow.

  “How far to the house?”

  “Not far and shut-up. You make one wrong move and I’ll blow a hole right through you
.”

  Taz remembered he was the one identified as an extreme right-wing radical. His personality profile coincided with the shooter who’d attacked a planned parenthood clinic in Colorado Springs. She didn’t flinch when he prodded her again. Instead, she focused on the horizon and was relieved when a two-story brick house came into view. Taz could see another armed man waiting for them on the porch. When she drew a bit nearer, she recognized Paxton Rice.

  “Well, well, look at what we’ve got here.”

  Taz felt an unpleasant disquiet creep across her mind. Paxton was much more dangerous than Helmer. Helmer was a follower. Paxton was more aggressive.

  “Yep, not what we expected, huh?” Helmer sneered.

  Taz kept her eyes on the man in front of her who assessed her with a grinning sneer. “What’s your name, honey?”

  She would answer, her aim would be easier to accomplish if they felt a false sense of superiority and control. “Natasha.”

  Paxton bent his knees and crowed. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. I don’t think we’ll let you leave.”

  “Can I see Mickey, please?”

  “I’m sure we can make a little deal. I let you see the kid and you let me see…” He licked his lips lewdly.

  Taz didn’t blink. “I need to see the child. Now.”

  His expression hardened. “You’ll do what I say, when I say it.”

  Deacon had told her about the same thing, but even when they’d disagreed, she’d never felt threatened, always knew he had her best interest in mind. “Please.” Taz didn’t mind letting them think they had the upper hand.

  “That’s more like it.” He opened the screen door. “Burgess! We’ve got company.” When Taz stepped through, Paxton ran his palm over her hip. She jumped, but she didn’t make back at him. This wasn’t the time to assert herself. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Taz began orienting herself in the house according to the information she’d received from Lois Baxter. To her left was the den, to her right was the dining room and kitchen. The stairs sat off to one side. A florid faced man wearing a cowboy hat, his rotund belly protruding out of his belt stood wearily in front of the fireplace. Ainsley. A woman, undoubtedly his wife sat nearby. She was pale, her arm around a young girl with longish hair wearing glasses. Across from them sat a younger couple. The family resemblance between the man and the elder Ainsley was obvious. At his side was a pretty brunette, her face streaked with tears. Their assessment had been right. The Ainsley’s were nothing more than hostages. Taz made eye contact with them, but she said nothing.