Dangerous Care (Dangerous Care Saga Book 1)

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Dangerous Care (Dangerous Care Saga Book 1) Page 14

by M. M. Cameron


  “But shouldn’t we be with you guys, why are we separating?” Ryanne said.

  Madoc didn’t turn around. “If they haven’t made a move into the house yet, they are likely going to try a distance attack—they’ll spray the house with bullets or bring out a bazooka if they have one. They would be bound to hit one of us if we all stayed here. The stone shower provides the most protection right now. The game is on: they’ve played some cards and so have we. With a little bit of luck, they’ve lost one of their aces…”

  Khalifa almost blew himself up when the little shack exploded, fumbling the wires in his shaking cold hands as he recoiled in awe from the size and heat of the flame. He knew Adil was gone. Khalifa would have seen the signs of a hidden device if he had been the one to scan right, but he hadn’t. Now he was alone with his five bombs. He had two choices: try to finish the job himself with the weapons he had or make the trip back to Mohamed and Usif. Khalifa knew his decision immediately: he was no warrior. Yes, he could shoot most weapons but he was the tech guy. He would more than likely end up like Adil if he tried to act the big shot. Usif was the sharpshooter and, if the weather cleared, he could probably take out everyone in the house from across the lake. Pulling out one ready-to-detonate bomb, he crouched towards the large propane tank that sat fueling the cottage. This might come in handy when they return, he thought—at least Mohamed wouldn’t be completely enraged with him coming back empty-handed. Swinging his bag across his shoulder, he took off down the bank where the boat awaited him. He had no choice but to challenge the lake again, this time knowing there was no room for mistakes and nobody to hear his pleas to Allah.

  Mohamed saw the explosion from afar, hoping for another to follow right after. But it never came. The storm had worsened to the point where anything beyond two feet of the window was rendered invisible. His instincts told him it had gone badly; the explosion hadn’t been in the location he’d expected, and now two-and-a-half hours had passed without any signs of Khalifa or Adil. He needed to start thinking about a reasonable second attack or of getting the fuck out of here before Usif started asking for commands. Usif seemed like an amenable and loyal squad member but deep down he was a survivalist and was the best shot of any soldier Mohamed knew. Mohamed knew he could convince him to stick to the mission, but if Usif started to sense his plan to rid himself of him, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Mohamed. He had to reassure Usif until he was done with him.

  “Usif, we are nearing the deadline. You know this likely means they have been captured, drowned or killed. We will wait another hour, and then we will head back to our home base and wait until daybreak. Then we will attempt to drive to the target’s location and try again. If their reinforcements have arrived, we cancel the mission and regroup. I…” The door to the cottage slammed open and Khalifa barreled through, falling to his knees, gasping for air. His body shook so violently that Mohamed was afraid to approach him. Usif rolled him over, exposing his deathly white face, lips blue with cyanosis. His deathly white complexion was in stark contrast to his dark hair and eyebrows. Usif called to him “Khalifa, Khalifa! Look at me, you are safe. You have made it. Where is Adil?” Khalifa’s eyes were nearly crusted shut with frozen tears beginning to melt away, dribbling down his cheeks, but he opened them silently, looking to Mohamed. “Adil… is dead… they rigged a …shack to… blow. They have the place… booby trapped at… every entry point.” His breath came out in jagged whispers. “I think… there are only two of the team there… with the women… so we have them outnumbered. Their cars… are buried… and have no bullet protection.” His voice was starting to build in strength as the warmth from Usif’s body brought him closer to the living. “The front of the cottage is all glass… easy to penetrate with bullets. I was able… to place a bomb near the propane tank that Usif could hit if visibility improves. The lake is dangerous going towards them… but the winds and Allah were on my side for my return. I wouldn’t have… made it back without the wind to push me forward, especially without Adil.” Khalifa let his body sink into Usif, who held him closely. Mohamed turned back to the window, scanning for the cottage. Khalifa’s return ensured they would be making another attempt to neutralize the targets, but the best approach wasn’t clear. He needed to think and give Khalifa time to recover. He needed to wait until morning light—without eyes he couldn’t combat his biggest enemy at the moment: the storm.

  The chicken clock clucked two times in the dark, signaling to the inhabitants that the night was almost three quarters done. Madoc and Tuck had relocated several times since the explosion, looking out windows for trespassers and finding new angles they could be hit from. Three hours without incident had left them somewhat weary and Madoc knew he had to make the call. “Okay Tuck, if they haven’t hit by now they are waiting for morning light. Both of us need some sleep. I’ll take the first shift and you take the last. That way, if they do hit in the morning, we at least have some shut-eye behind us.” Madoc waved him up the stairs with his gun but Tuck didn’t move. “No man, I’m wired still. You go sleep and get the lion’s share; we both know if they come knocking that you are the gladiator that will get us out of here. Besides, your body needs more sleep with the injury. Go, take three hours—sunrise isn’t until seven and I only need a couple to reboot. I’ll wake you at five.” Tuck finished by directing him with his pistol. Madoc nodded. He was feeling more fatigued than he’d expected and his leg was starting to throb. A soft whisper from above turned their attention to the top railing. “Hey losers… I’ve been sleeping since eight, I’m done. I’ll hang out with whoever stays up and help keep you safe,” Ryanne said with a small grin. “Can I have a gun?” she added before they could speak. Madoc waved her down and pulled out a second pistol from his cast. “This has eight rounds in it, you pull the trigger it fires, no cocking, no safety, pull and shoot. Don’t hesitate for a second to shoot anybody that comes at you. Don’t be afraid to kill them—you likely won’t even if you get a piece of them, but you’ll injure them enough for one of us to get there and help. Aim for the chest. Don’t shoot Tuck or me or Kathryn.” Ryanne nodded as he handed her the gun, turning immediately to Tuck with a huge grin. Madoc could only shake his head at her as he made his way up the stairs to Kathryn. Of course she had to be Kathryn’s best friend.

  Madoc opened the door to the bathroom, moving and closing the door in one fluid motion so as not to wake Kathryn. Pillows and blankets filled the shower area where Kathryn lay, cuddled into a small ball, her hands in front of her. Her loose blonde waves cascaded over the pillows and her face was tucked into her chest, her lips slightly open, breathing softly into the blanket close to her face. Madoc thought she looked like a little Christmas figurine you would buy to fill a decorative village. Her angelic sleeping face was enveloped in soft white pillows and blankets, as if waiting for Christmas morning to arrive. He didn’t want to disturb her but he couldn’t resist adding himself to the picture. He needed to feel her in his arms, to hold her and sleep beside her. To feel the peace he had never felt before and might never feel again. Sliding under the blankets and getting as close as possible to her without waking her up was tricky, but once his head hit the pillow across from hers, his worries and fears faded into the disappearing night and he slept like a baby.

  Kathryn awoke feeling the presence of another but was fairly confident it wasn’t Ryanne. The room was still dark but morning light had begun to seep through the small window beside the attic door. She reached her hand out and felt the outline of Madoc’s chin and mouth. She knew it was him by his smell and by the way he breathed. She was surprised that she already found these things familiar. As her eyes acclimatized to the dark room, Madoc reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling it to his face where he held it tightly. “Hey Kat.” She liked it when he called her that—nobody else called her that.

  “Hey yourself. I’m glad you got some sleep. Did anything happen?” Madoc shifted closer and kissed her, grabbing her chin and pulling her into a deeper kiss when she sigh
ed into his mouth. He released her faster than she’d wanted. “Nothing happened by two, so Tuck let me sleep. He was supposed to relieve me at five, but by the looks of that light it is nearing sunlight. I need to give him a chance to get some shut-eye now. Keep sleeping if you want, I’m gonna send him up but he won’t bother you.” Madoc shifted to standing in one fast movement. He was obviously feeling energized, far more than she’d expected after such little sleep. “No, no, I want to come with you if it’s safe.” Kathryn got up more slowly, feeling the effects of too much wine.

  “It’s not safe—they are likely to hit us soon, but if you lay low near the mattress downstairs, we can keep you out of the way until Tuck is awake. I’m expecting reinforcements today, I don’t know what time or how, but we got hold of Charlie before we arrived and she notified the other members. It will be alright.” Madoc kissed her forehead before heading out of the door, leaving her happy and anxious all over again.

  Tuck hadn’t woken him at five as he’d promised but agreed to go sleep when he and Kathryn appeared at six. Madoc caught Ryanne wink at Tuck before he ascended and wondered what had happened while they had slept. Madoc moved the mattress against the side wall and behind the staircase, creating a pocket for Kathryn and Ryanne to sit in while they ate breakfast. Madoc sat in the chair by the door, loaded rifle in one hand and a microwave breakfast burrito in the other. Few words were said as the dark turned to muted gray. The storm hadn’t let up—the heavy snow had started falling, meaning the winds had died down, but the blankets of white still fell. Madoc could sense that their time in the cottage was nearing an end; the pressure was building for something to happen. The chicken clucked on, marking nine AM, and heralding a spray of bullets that shattered the large rounded windows of the cabin.

  The high pitched sound of glass shattering was grounded by the thick thuds of bullets entering the solid wood panels that made up the inside of the cottage. Madoc heard both girls scream when the first wave started, and dropped to the ground covering his head as the second wave tore through the wood. Madoc peeked over, watching bullet holes appear systematically in the wall, each one evenly spaced. Whoever was doing this was far away and extremely thorough. A cold wind blew into the void of the cabin and filled the silence with tunneling wind. It had stopped snowing momentarily, giving the shooter a clear shot. The once-long curtains were ragged and torn, flipping aimlessly in the gusts of wind. Madoc finally looked up once the bullets had stopped. Madoc knew that he had one chance to get to the girls before someone came through the window or the shooting began again. Tuck opened the hole-ridden door to the bathroom and shouted, “Everybody alive? I’m coming down.” Madoc didn’t have time to watch him descend.

  “Ladies, say something,” Madoc ordered.

  Kathryn spoke up. “We’re okay, what do we do?” Madoc heard the waver in her voice.

  “I’m coming to you. When I get there, we will use the mattress as cover to get you upstairs into the shower. Tuck, I’m assuming the shower’s untouched?” Tuck, who had practically slid his way down the stairs, was now with Kathryn and Ryanne on the mattress. “Yeah, it’s safe. Madoc, you stay and provide cover, I’ll move them upstairs. Let’s go.” Madoc turned to look at Tuck, he stared back “I will keep her safe. Trust me” Madoc nodded and pulled up into a crouching position and backed up slowly towards the stairs. A bullet hit above Kathryn’s head—whoever was firing could see them moving. “Move it. NOW!” Madoc yelled as bullets continued to spray around him. When he heard the bathroom door shut, he knew they were safe. Tuck reappeared at his side behind the kitchen island within minutes. A dark shape move past the door windows towards the blown-out window frames in front. Both Tuck and Madoc moved to the adjacent wall, guns prepared to welcome the intruder. A small smoking canister came through the windowless frame, a gloved hand and arm visible through the tattered curtains. Tuck flung himself to the floor where his duffle bag lay, pulling out masks, donning one and throwing the other to Madoc. Madoc kept his eyes on the now barrier-free zone in front of him, pulling the mask on as the room filled with white billowing smoke. Likely a chemical lung toxin meant to cause coughing fits and dissolve the air sacs in the lung. Madoc watched and covered Tuck as he rolled to the canister and flung it back out of the window. Tuck signaled to Madoc to retreat. Madoc crouched and brought himself back to the kitchen island where Tuck met him. Madoc lifted his mask. “They either come inside or they pull us outside. What do you think?” Tuck asked through his mask voice box.

  “They know the gas didn’t work. They come in through that window, they’re dead… the snow’s starting to fall again so their shot will be lost momentarily. I say they try to make us leave… fire.” The explosion was almost perfectly timed to coincide with Madoc’s last word. The whole cabin shook as the fireball lit up the side of the cottage. The explosion was too contained to be one of Tuck’s window bombs. The entire side of the kitchen where they were crouched began smoking, the flames licking outside of the kitchen window where the propane tank had been. The fire hadn’t made its way inside yet, but heat emanated far enough to warm Madoc’s cheek. “Fuck! That fire is only going to grow if we don’t put a stop to it quickly.” Tuck moved towards the kitchen, opened the cupboards below the sink and pulled out an old-looking fire extinguisher.

  “I’m going outside… with this and the snow I have a chance of putting it out and keeping us from all having to go outside. You cover from the porch?” Tuck made the last imperative sound like a question, but Madoc knew this was the right call. With his bum leg, he was not quick enough to get the job done, but he could still pivot and shoot the SOBs.

  They didn’t have time to think about it; the smoke coming through the wall in the kitchen had made the room cloudy already. The wood crackled as fire began to chew it up from the outside. Tuck swung open the door, letting the screen door fly as a distraction. Guns raised, sweeping side to side, they exited the side porch while the remnants of the tank burned hungrily beside them. Tuck began extinguishing the flame, Madoc’s back pressed hard to his, his eyes scanning the white forest surrounding them. The snow-covered cars sat so close to the cottage that for a second Madoc eyed them enviously. Heavy snow was now falling and blowing again in every direction, aiding Tuck in keeping the flames low. Emptying the can, Tuck left only smoldering embers in his wake. “That will have to do, the snow should get the rest.” He turned, bringing his rifle back to his arms. A dark figure covered partially in white rose from behind the SUV and fired directly at Tuck. Madoc saw Tuck jerk backwards, bullets ripping through his torso. The figure took off from behind the SUV and ran towards the forest. Madoc turned, expecting to find Tuck on the ground bleeding, but instead watched as Tuck propelled himself over the railing and gave chase. Madoc had no choice but to go back inside—Tuck had made his decision and all of them would live or die by it.

  Kathryn cried and held Ryanne after the explosion rocked the cottage. She knew Tuck and Madoc had survived it, but at the time she couldn’t stop herself from crawling over to the bathroom door and opening it just enough to hear their voices. They were planning to go outside to stop the fire. Kathryn crawled back to Ryanne and started praying to a god she’d never seen or spoken to, and Ryanne had joined in. When the praying felt over, she crawled back to the door, opening it slightly. No sign of Madoc. Several shots thudded into the side of the cottage below. Kathryn jumped, and pulled her gun up close to her face, her hand trembling so hard that she was forced to stabilize with her second hand. A thump from above caught her attention briefly before she heard the screen door fling open again downstairs. Opening the door, she peeked back out. Madoc limped in, gun still raised—but no Tuck. “Oh my god. No,” she whispered to herself. About to yell down to Madoc, a sound of muffled gagging stopped her. Turning, she saw Ryanne’s face was bright red, her lips purple from the hands behind her crushing her throat. The man in black camouflage looked out from behind Ryanne’s head into Kathryn’s eyes and smiled. Kathryn looked up and saw the attic door h
anging open. Ryanne’s face had started turning blue, drool pooling out of her lips. “Whore, she has about one minute left before she goes unconscious, two minutes before the brain damage begins. Do not scream. Do not shoot. Drop the gun and walk slowly out of that door and I’ll let her breathe.” The man spoke in a thick Middle Eastern accent that made it hard to understand every word, but Kathryn got the gist. Hands flattened to him, she lowered the gun and turned, walking out of the bathroom. Kathryn heard him move with Ryanne, a deep gasp of breath and then silence again. Vomit rushed up Kathryn’s throat, but she swallowed it back, fighting the gag. “Good whore, stop at the bannister. Call your pimp.” Kathryn saw Madoc standing near the island, gun propped facing the open windows. “Madoc.” Her voice struggled to find volume. “Madoc,” she said again. Madoc turned his face up, the whites of his eyes growing as he took in the scene. Madoc lowered his weapon. “They’re not your concern. Let them go.” Kathryn turned her head to look at the man still clutching Ryanne’s throat.

 

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