Gabe (In the Company of Snipers Book 8)

by Winters, Irish

  Damn. I need a break.

  He dropped Libby and the girls at home before he headed back to the office. The place felt as if it had barely opened for business, everyone busy and focused despite the late afternoon hour.

  David already sat in the Sit Room, his findings spread on the table in front of him. Everyone was running on empty, but it seemed even the glare off David’s bald head was somehow subdued. He looked as tired as Mark felt, his eyes shadowed and his head in his hands.

  “Whatcha got?”

  David looked up. “Another puzzle. I couldn’t get Mother’s assistance with the encrypted file. She said she’s too busy with other things, but I’ve taken this as far as I can.”

  “Tough encryption, huh? Ember’s good at that kind of stuff. Have you asked her?”

  “She’s busy with Connor and Rory, but she said she’ll take a look as soon as she can.” David showed Mark what he’d discovered. “It looks like our FBI sniper is involved with our group of ten. Remember Ron Fallon? If what I’m seeing is correct, Mr. Becker is also part of Chaos Now. Look what I took off their website. This was taken at their national convention last month right here in D.C.”

  Mark studied the screen print, a group of men dressed in camouflage pants and shirts. David had enhanced the photo enough that Sam Becker’s face was clearly visible while he talked with Ron Fallon. Both men carried assault rifles over their shoulders, as well as pistols at their hips. Fallon sported fully loaded bandoliers crisscrossing his chest. More concerning were the smiles on both men’s faces.

  “Looks like a bunch of survivalists to me. So talk to me about Chaos Now. What else do you know?”

  “They also have a link named Eagle Two.”

  That perked up Mark’s ears. “Is it the same file as the FBI’s and Secret Service’s?”

  “I’m not sure, but I came across this timetable on their website.”

  Mark took the paper from David’s hand. It showed a timeline all right, with the word REVOLUTION bolded in bright red letters at the top. The next words weren’t any better. Chaotic Disorder. Mayhem. Military rule. Chaotic Order.

  “A timeline from chaotic disorder to chaotic order? Makes as much sense as Army Intelligence.”

  “They might not be rocket scientists, Mark, but they’re arrogant and they can put our country in great danger.”

  “Let’s get Ember and Mother on this. We need to know exactly what these jokers are up to.”

  “There’s something else,” David murmured. “I know who Eagle Two is. It’s Vice President Frank Winston.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  David pointed to the small print beneath the bright red heading. Mark had to squint to make it out, the font so tiny. Damned if David wasn’t right. These guys were arrogant as hell. There in print so small—but there nonetheless—were the words: Winston first. Then the world.

  Gabe dressed while he waited at the riverbank with the dogs. The sheriff’s cruiser finally arrived, followed by the coroner’s van and a tow truck. Despite the warm summer day, he’d developed a chill. The only saving grace was that the sheriff was not the same one who’d investigated Kelsey’s accident.

  The corpse still bobbed in the shallows, face down. The gruesome thing hadn’t gone far, and for that, Gabe was thankful. He didn’t need to be strolling out into the river to make sure it stayed put.

  The sheriff climbed out of his cruiser to survey the scene while the coroner hooked the floater and dragged it onto shore and the sheet of black plastic he’d laid out. When he stuck a probe in the corpse’s extended abdomen, Gabe jerked his eyes off the proceedings. Time to go. He’d seen enough. Besides, he’d been driving on a revoked driver’s license. Wouldn’t that be something to explain to the sheriff or Zack?

  The tow truck operator came prepared with a diver who had no problem going into the water. Once he hooked a tow strap onto the rear of the submerged vehicle, the tow truck driver winched a large black SUV out of the river. An Escalade.

  The day got worse. Another bloated corpse flopped out of the rear passenger door and hit the ground with a gruesome, squishy splat. When something long, black, and slimy wiggled out of the dead guy’s left eye, Gabe’s stomach lurched up the back of his throat. He pivoted on his good heel. Shit. Definitely time to get the hell out of there.

  The sheriff’s brows arched. “Did you know these guys?”

  “No, sir, sure didn’t,” Gabe replied through chattering teeth. He lifted his jacket, displaying his holstered pistols while he pulled out his permit to carry and forced his gut to calm. “Before we go any further, you need to know I’m carrying. Here’s my permit and my employee ID badge authorizing me to do so. I came out here to take my friend’s dogs for a walk. They’re cooped up in their kennels most of the time, so I did her a favor and brought them out for a run. That’s when they got spooked. I made the mistake of swimming out to see what was going on. Not my brightest decision today.”

  “No, it wasn’t, but thanks for telling me you’re armed. Who’s this friend of yours?”

  “Kelsey Stewart.”

  “Alex Stewart’s widow?” the sheriff asked, a spark of recognition glimmering in his eyes.

  “Yes. These are her dogs, Whisper and Smoke. I thought they might help me locate some more evidence in case we missed something before. You knew him?”

  “Yes, I had the chance to work with Stewart on a child smuggling ring a few years back. Damned good man. You find anything else?”

  Gabe nodded his chin toward the corpses. “Only those guys.”

  The coroner interrupted with his preliminary findings. “Excuse me, but you’ll want to see this.” He handed over two waterlogged wallets. “I need to run more tests, but I’d estimate cause of death at ten to twelve days ago for both of these guys. Looks like they were shot before they drowned.”

  “Well now, who do we have here?” The sheriff peered at the driver’s licenses in the wallets. “Huh. Clark Manson and Carlos Echevarria. Let me know what else you find.”

  Gabe damned near choked. Two of the gang of ten, now reduced to five at last count according to Mark. And they’d died around the same time of Kelsey’s attempted murder. Holy hell.

  “You need me for anything else? I’d really like to get home and out of these wet clothes.”

  “No, I think I’ve got enough. I’ll be in touch if anything comes up.”

  Good enough. Gabe turned to his Land Cruiser, loaded the dogs and waved goodbye with one quick salute. He’d gotten more than he’d bargained for during this impromptu swim, but knowing the corpses were two of the guys Mark was looking for made it worthwhile. Ten was now down to three.

  It took all of twenty minutes to get back to Kelsey’s. Shelby met him at the back door after he’d kenneled the dogs, concern bright in her eyes. She latched onto his arm and pulled him inside. “Your boss was here. What on earth have you been doing? You’ve been gone so long. I thought you were just taking a walk and a video.”

  A round of sneezing delayed his answer. Zack strolled into the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

  Gabe sneezed again. “I made a darn good movie,” he said, surprised his voice had gotten hoarse on the drive home. He shrugged out of his jacket and unlaced his boots. “Mark was here?”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be back. Tell me about the body you found.”

  “A body?” Shelby hitched her glasses up with her index finger again.

  “Bodies,” Gabe corrected, holding up two fingers. “Both male. Manson and Echevarria. Both shot. They’d been underwater a while, maybe as long as Kelsey’s accident.”

  “Are you sure?” Zack asked.

  “Yes. Weren’t those two of the guys Mark’s looking for?”

  Zack pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Mark didn’t have names, last I heard. Our mystery Good Samaritan must’ve hit two of the group.”

  “And his buddies drove their vehicle into the river with t
hem still in it. Wonder if they were dead then?”

  “Don’t care one way or the other,” Zack muttered. “They’re dead now.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Shelby demanded. “You guys know who tried to kill Kelsey?”

  “Shh,” Gabe cautioned, his gaze on the hallway again. “We didn’t have names until today.”

  “And someone really did save her, like she said?”

  “Yes. Only you’ve got to understand. I was there the day her husband was shot. I tried to help Alex and I’ve got his blood all over my clothes. I know damned well he’s dead, so...” Gabe snapped his mouth shut at what he’d said. He looked at Zack. “Damn it. I’ve got evidence. My bloody shirt. My pants. We can prove if it’s Alex’s or not. That will support my video.”

  His brain drifted to the day in the parking garage. The bright red blossoms in his boss’s chest. The lack of blood pouring out of those three gunshot wounds. It all came back. So did the questions. “I tried to keep his heart pumping, you know, massaging it through his shirt until the paramedics got there, but there was so little blood.”

  “What are you saying?” Zack asked.

  Gabe honestly didn’t know. He’d been panicked, so scared he hadn’t thought about what happened within the turmoil. His brain replayed the images now. The sound of gunfire. The bile creeping up his throat when he saw that Alex was shot and dying. The anger. The fear. But other details pierced the fog. He’d attributed the lack of blood to internal hemorrhaging, but was it? And the feel of that blood wasn’t right.

  “I need to get back to my place, Zack. The blood’s all wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” Shelby interrupted.

  Gabe focused on her face. She was a nurse. She should know about physical trauma. “It was thick and cold. I remember thinking how strange it was for a man as hot-tempered as the boss. I thought it would’ve been warmer. Thinner, too.”

  Shelby grabbed hold of his forearm. “Are you sure you’re remembering right?”

  “Yeah. I was right in the middle of his chest. Believe me, I’m sure, but the whole damned thing was a nightmare, and I got caught up in the commotion. I hadn’t thought about it until now. There was so little blood. I barely got my hands wet, just enough to make them sticky.”

  “He had to have been losing a lot, being shot like that. You would’ve been covered in it,” Shelby said. “Was it all over your clothes?”

  “No. That’s the thing. I had some on my hands, but not much. I wiped it on my pants, but there’s something else now that we’re talking about it. It was like he was shedding his skin. You ever see a gunshot victim do that?”

  “Shedding his skin? What do you mean?” she asked.

  Gabe brushed his thumb and index finger together to demonstrate. “It’s like his skin peeled or something. Every time I’d push on him, you know, to see if I could get him to keep breathing, I could feel my palms slid over his shirt, like his skin was bubbling off of him in tiny patches.”

  Now he had Shelby’s complete attention. “Was his car on fire? Did he get burned?”

  “No fire. He just got shot.”

  “Wait a minute.” Zack held both hands up for silence. “You’re confused. It was an awful day. None of us were in our right minds.”

  “I was there, Zack. I saw three red splotches on his shirt. That’s all. Even at the hospital, I never saw the actual physical damage on his body. Just bloody packing and rags on the floor. Medical instruments. I never saw the actual holes. Neither did Kelsey.”

  “That’s not right,” Shelby murmured. “The hospital would’ve never allowed Kelsey to see her husband like that. Someone would’ve cleaned the room before they let her in.”

  “And that’s another thing. You ever hear a man talk after he’s been shot dead?”

  “I’ve seen dead patient’s lips move, like they were trying to say something, but... why? Did Alex say something?”

  “Yes, but he had to have been dead by the time I got to him, right? I mean he’d taken three to the chest.” Shit. Here I’ve been blaming myself instead of questioning what really happened. Shit. Shit. Shit!

  “Okay,” Shelby said calmly. “Exactly what did you hear him say?”

  “I lifted the windshield out of my way. I reached in over the dash to turn the car off. He was blinking real hard at me, as if he was surprised. And he turned to me, and he says, ‘I’m shot?’ You know, like he couldn’t believe it. Then he wanted me to tell Kelsey he loved her and, God, I lost it. I mean...”

  The morning stormed over Gabe again. Once more, he’d arrived too late to save his friend. His heart thumped while he relived Alex’s last gasping breath. The blood that might not have been Alex’s blood. The death that might not have been real, either.

  Gabe lowered his aching head, his mind rejecting all arguments as too hard to figure out at the moment, and that damned snaky feeling of a hand at his throat. Suffocating him. Triggers nagged at him to succumb to panic. Not now, damn it.

  Shelby’s hand still rested on his arm. “But he was shot three times, right?”

  Gabe nodded. His throat had gone sore and dry. “Yes, and then he slumped over, and he—”

  Died.

  Name it or not, admit it or not, PTSD had a sneaky way of elbowing the mission out of the way when it showed up. Like that day in the garage. Like thinking about Darrell. Or Alex.

  “Three to his chest. Are you certain?”

  “God, you don’t forget something like that.” At least not for long.

  The prettiest violet-blues drilled him. “Alex wouldn’t have been talking by the time you got to him, Gabe—not if he sustained three mortal wounds, like you described.”

  “I think you’re right,” Gabe whispered more to himself than to her, aware of the calmness flowing from her body to his.

  Shelby frowned that beautiful of-course-I’m-right frown of hers. Did she have any idea how much he needed her touch on his arm right now? “Where’s Kelsey?” he asked, needing to be sure she was out of earshot.

  “I gave her something to help her rest. You’re not going to tell her about the bodies, are you?”

  Gabe looked to Zack for that answer. “I’d as soon tell her everything we think we know, but it’s up to you.”

  “Let’s talk to her when she gets up,” Zack replied. “Kels is tougher than she looks right now. She might be able to take it.”

  “Good. Since she’s sleeping, I’m going to take a quick shower. Be right out,” Gabe muttered, needing to be warm again. He couldn’t stop shivering.

  Zack and Shelby followed him to his duffel bag in the front room like two overprotective mothers. “Will you two back off? I really can dress myself,” he said, between chattering teeth. “It’s not like I’m dying here.”

  “No, but you’re coming down with something.” Shelby eyed him intently. “You’re flushed and your eyes are red. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, ma’am. Probably got river water in my eyeballs is all. I’m good.”

  “You should’ve let the sheriff handle it,” Zack drawled. “You didn’t need to go swimming. They have trained divers for that, you know.”

  “Yeah. I know, but Kelsey needed peace of mind, and I think I’ve finally found some for her. Least, I hope. I’ll call Mark soon as I’m done showering. He needs to send someone over to my place to get my dirty clothes.”

  “I’ll call him,” Zack answered. “Get changed. You’ll feel better after a shower.”

  Gabe pulled a dry pair of cammie pants, a couple of pullover shirts, and some clean socks out of his bag before he headed to the bathroom. In no time at all he was under the shower, his pistols once again on the lid of the hamper.

  The hot water felt good, but he still shivered. His muscles ached. Head ached. By the time he’d dried and dressed, congestion had settled into his chest and everything else ached, too. Damn, I’ve got the flu.

  He took extra care drying his bionic foot, but he was more worried about Kel
sey’s reaction to what he’d found than he was ensuring his spare parts were in good condition. Traces of Alex. Two bodies. It didn’t get more bizarre than that. And the blood evidence on his clothes? He opted to keep that from Kelsey until he knew for sure it didn’t belong to her husband. Damn. Had she been right all along?

  Zack had a cup of coffee waiting for him at the kitchen table and Shelby stood there with a blanket in her hand by the time he exited the bathroom. Gabe stuffed his dirty clothes into his rucksack. He brushed the notion of the blanket aside and grabbed a kitchen chair instead, but Shelby thought she knew better. She wrapped the blanket around his shoulders the minute he sat down anyway.

  “You’re sick,” she said firmly. “And you’re feverish. I made lasagna for dinner, but I’ll get you something for that fever first.”

  He would’ve argued, but a coughing fit ensued. She might be right. “I got news for you. That river’s cold in the summer. And it’s dirty. No wonder Kelsey’s as sick as she is.”

  Shelby returned with a glass of water and three tablets in her hand. “Here. Ibuprofen. Take them.”

  He obeyed, not able to ignore the tender touch of her cool fingers on his cheek. Nurse Sullivan had changed. Her fingers lingered longer than if she were simply diagnosing a sick guy.

  “Not sure I’d have gone into the river if I’d known who else was in it,” he admitted. Her gentle smile caught him by surprise.

  “No kidding,” Zack said.

  Gabe snapped his gaze away from Shelby.

  Zack glanced over his shoulder toward Kelsey’s bedroom, but not before Gabe caught the glint of curiosity in his eye. Zack was no dummy. He’d picked up on the subtle change in Shelby, too.

  “Do me a favor, kid,” he said, without looking Gabe in the eye. “Mark said Rory and Connor located security footage from the day Kelsey went missing that confirmed someone who looked and acted a lot like Alex was at the riverbank that day, I hear her moving around back there. She’ll be out here soon. Let’s take it slow with her. Let her draw her own conclusions. Shelby, would you put a couple bags of popcorn in the microwave? Gabe, let’s get your camcorder hooked up. We’re having a party, remember?”