Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3

by Lisa Phillips

  Grant pulled onto the street. “How did it go?”

  A puff of air escaped Ben’s nose. He opened his eyes. “I got what we needed. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Grant might’ve been the oldest of the four Mason brothers, but that didn’t mean Ben didn’t sometimes seem almost…larger than life. He’d done things and seen things Grant couldn’t imagine. And he’d heard stories that would give innocent people nightmares.

  Though every time he was asked about Ben, he gave the “party line” answer that he had no idea what his brother did.

  The extraction of information wasn’t the way Grant would have chosen to get the information they needed, but Ben had explained what he called “the way of his world.” The conclusion of his speech was about John and Pat. About Andra and what they’d all done for her. Family neither of them wanted to lose—especially not when John had only recently found real happiness and a complete family he wanted to work at growing.

  Grant couldn’t really argue with that angle. Even Genevieve’s heart had been in the right place. That was the first thing Ben had said when Grant told him what had happened. Grant knew that. It was everything she’d done from that point onward that he had a serious problem with.

  Grant pushed away thoughts of his personal problems and found a chain coffee shop drive thru. “So that man was the chairman of the syndicate?”

  Ben shook his head. “No. Though he inferred he was, which is why it all pointed to him. He’s a lawyer—partner at an established practice that’s been around for more than a hundred years. Most of the other partners are pushing seventy-five with no signs of retiring anytime soon.”

  Grant got their orders and pulled away. “So there’s someone higher up than him?”

  “You’re not going to believe who it—” Ben’s phone buzzed. He swiped the screen. “Daire’s been hurt. The boys are taking the chopper to extract.”

  Grant slammed his palm on the steering wheel. “Can this day get any worse?”

  “Why did you say that?” Ben’s wide eyes were horrified.

  “What? I’m not going to jinx it. Neither of us believes in that stuff.”

  Ben turned to the window to look out at the night and blew out a breath. “I’m just worried about Sanctuary.”

  **

  There was no one around to hear John. With his back against the brick façade of the bakery, he glanced up, above the Meeting House. He could see Bolton up there, eyes to the other end of Main. Early dawn cast Main Street in long shadows that would remain until the sun peeked over the mountains.

  Bolton lifted his hands and signed. North. East. And then made punching motions.

  Tommy was in the gym.

  John signed back that he understood and then looked at Sam, positioned on the south side of Main across from John. He relayed the information, and the SEAL acknowledged.

  Within seconds they had established a plan.

  John ducked around the back of the bakery, not checking to see if Sam did the same on the south side. The SEAL was probably sprinting, given he had farther to travel. John got to the back of Tura’s gym and used his master key to get in. Sam was the one Tommy would recognize, so it stood to reason he would have to be the distraction while John took him down from behind.

  They couldn’t use the radios because Tommy would hear them.

  John crept down the back hall into the cavernous gym. Beams lined the ceiling where the second floor should have been. Sam had gutted the whole place, opening it up so it looked huge even though it was no bigger than any other store-front. Sam owned the diner directly across the street, too. Somehow managing to be present at both, they were the most successful businesses in town. He probably got no sleep, but he seemed content enough.

  John crouched behind the ring and peeked over the top. Tommy was at the window, hidden to one side. He had a backpack open at his feet and a Toughbook he was looking at. The man looked tired; older than John, probably late-forties. He looked…normal. Not like a psycho bent on destroying hundreds if he didn’t get what his employers wanted.

  Sam crossed Main Street in front of the window, walking with his hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world. He did glance once to the center of the street where Tommy had left the missile. Bolton had reported it was operational, but he was holding his position. John and Sam wanted to get Tommy detained and have him disengage the countdown. The problem was, with no display aside from a collection of illuminated lights, they had no idea if Tommy was telling the truth or not. He could be bluffing or determined to kill them and himself at any moment.

  John blew out a breath as Tommy backed up from the window, his eyes on Sam still outside.

  Glass shattered. The crack of gunfire erupted, and Tommy dived for the floor. His computer went flying. John skirted the boxing ring as debris flew up. He ran for the Toughbook just as Sam kicked the door in.

  The frame splintered, and the door flew across the room, colliding against a heavy bag. Sam swept in, gun raised. John grabbed the device. Tommy saw him and fired.

  The bullet cut through John’s sleeve and sliced a path across the top of his arm. John cried out and dove back behind the ring, holding his breath so he didn’t make more noise and give himself away.

  “Give it up, Tommy.” Sam’s voice betrayed no emotion.

  John glanced up to see Sam aim his gun at a spot on the floor on the front side of the boxing ring.

  A rumbling laugh erupted. “Kill me and you’re all dead.”

  Sam didn’t budge. “Stop the bomb. End the countdown now, and I won’t kill you.”

  “I’d rather die than have you spare my life.” Tommy spat. “There’s nothing you can say. Give me Doctor Wilder and the other suitcase, and I’ll ask if maybe they won’t bury all of you.”

  “That isn’t going to happen, Tommy. You’re not taking Remy or that compound anyway. This ends now.”

  Tommy laughed again. “You’re right about that, LT. You know, that was pretty clever, having your man on the roof fire on me so you could walk in easy as pie.”

  John scooted to the end of the ring and around the corner. Blood tracked down his arm, leaving him unsteady. The room drifted a little each time he moved, but he poured every ounce of strength into focusing. He gripped his weapon and inched forward.

  Looked around the corner.

  Tommy got up slowly, hopped, and then stilled. Handgun in the back of his belt.

  John signed to Sam, but the SEAL didn’t react.

  One leg was bent, like Tommy couldn’t put weight on it. “Too bad it didn’t work.” Tommy pulled the gun from behind him.

  “Drop it, Senior Chief.”

  Tommy whipped around and hopped back two steps. His gun shifted between Sam and John like he didn’t know who to shoot first. “This isn’t how it’s going to end.”

  “It is, Tommy.” John stepped closer. His arm burned like it had been stuck with a branding iron. Andra was going to be mad he’d gotten injured. And this was one of his favorite shirts. “Deactivate the missile.”

  Tommy grinned. “You’d like me to, wouldn’t you? But that’s not going to happen. If this is over, it’ll be because we’re all dead. They can dig the compound out after the rubble cools.”

  John let one hand off the grip of his gun and lifted the Toughbook. “Is this how we turn it off?” John glanced at the screen. “Let’s see if I can figure this thing out…”

  “No!” Tommy moved toward him. John stepped back as Tommy yelled, “Don’t touch that, hick-Sheriff. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  He glanced at Sam. “Why does everyone underestimate me?” John looked back at Tommy and cocked his head to the side. “So you’re not so prepared to die as you’d thought?”

  “You think I want to?”

  “I think you’re not as sold out to the cause as you’d like us to believe.” John paused. “You’re getting paid, but do you really want to kill two hundred people for one suitcase?”

&n
bsp; Tommy flinched.

  “Two hundred innocent—”

  “Now I know that’s not true. Witness protection. There’s no way they’re all lily-white.”

  John shook his head. “None of us are lily-white. Now tell us who hired you, and we can get this figured out. The director of the marshals is my brother. We can get you enrolled in witness protection and place you anywhere you want to go. How does Hawaii sound to you? You get to live out your life knowing you did the right thing. That you aren’t responsible for the death of hundreds, if not thousands, of people.”

  Tommy snorted. “That’s mighty tempting, I have to say. But it’s not going to happen.”

  John smirked. “Worth a try.” He nodded to Sam. “You got this?”

  Sam nodded. “Yep.”

  “Hey!”

  John glanced back. Tommy waved his gun, aiming it at him. John kept walking toward the front door.

  “I’ll shoot you. Get back in here.”

  Sam stepped in the way. “Don’t even think about it.”

  John flipped the door handle. “I’m going to check out the bomb. See if I can shut it down.”

  He had nearly zero experience with missile disarming, but someone had to be able to help. He got on his radio. “This is Sheriff Mason. I need anyone who has any expertise with missiles to come out to Main Street.”

  Bolton waved his arm in a wide sweep and spoke into his radio. “I’ll bring them out to you.”

  John prayed someone would know what they were looking at. He also added to his prayer that Sam wouldn’t simply shoot Tommy. Sam didn’t need a vengeance kill on his conscience, and he’d seen the desire in the man’s eyes. But one death wouldn’t mean so much if they were all killed. He looked at his watch. If Tommy had been telling the truth, they had twenty-three minutes.

  Twenty-three minutes until the whole basin imploded.

  **

  Bolton raced down the stairs to the Meeting House basement. The shot Remy had given him a week ago was wearing off. The ache in his lower back had returned with a vengeance, but he pushed the pain aside.

  Everyone was on their feet. Bolton scanned their faces. “Who is it?”

  Major General Halt stepped forward. “Let me see it.”

  If this was a shot at proving his worth to the town and he wound up putting lives at risk… Bolton just hoped that wasn’t the case here.

  “Let’s go.”

  He walked the man out to Main Street where Sam had Tommy handcuffed. The rogue SEAL was bleeding from his forehead, his nose was broken, and there was a distinct limp in his stride. Sam pulled open the door to the sheriff’s office and took Tommy inside. It was a bold move to lock him up where he’d be able to see what was happening with the missile. Where, if it came to it, Tommy could watch death coming.

  Bolton and Halt stopped by the missile. Bolton had seen plenty of weapons, but never one this small that could do the damage he imagined this could.

  The major general whistled. “That’s some pretty fancy construction.” He crouched beside John.

  “Don’t touch it!”

  Bolton looked up. Remy ran toward them with Shadrach beside her. “Back up. Don’t touch it. It’s very sensitive.”

  John stood. “How much time do we have?”

  Remy studied the display lights. “Less than twenty minutes. No more than that.”

  “How do we shut it off?”

  “You can’t.” She blew out a breath and ran her fingers through her hair. “It should never have been activated. It’s supposed to detonate the payload. I have no idea what kind of damage it will do. It was supposed to disperse the compound into the air over hundreds of miles, not destroy anything.” Her eyes shifted side-to-side as she thought. Bolton had seen that look before, when she was figuring something out. “We have to find a way to contain the blast. It could be minimal, or it could destroy hundreds of miles and all of us along with it.”

  “How do we contain it?” Bolton left the question open for her to work out the answer. He’d run missions before, but she’d work through in thirty seconds what would take him minutes. Time which they didn’t have.

  She glanced at Shadrach.

  “The cave.”

  “Or the helicopter.”

  John flinched at her statement. “What helicopter?”

  “Daire was shot. By Maude. He had us call him a ride.”

  Bolton had seen the chopper. They’d radioed for it but hadn’t received a reply. “You think it’ll come back?”

  Remy shrugged. “There’s nowhere they can put the bomb better than the cave. We’ll have to put it deep in and pray the walls contain most of whatever blast there is.” She ran her hands down her face. “Maybe it’ll be minimal. I just don’t know.”

  “If we can’t disarm the missile we’ll have to risk it.” John’s voice was somber.

  “I’ll take it.”

  Remy spun around, her mouth open. “Shadrach, no.”

  He gripped her arms. “I’m the fastest. I’m the one with the least to lose if the worst happens. So close it up. I have to go now.”

  John crouched to flip the lid of the suitcase and clicked the latch shut.

  “Shadrach—” Remy’s voice broke.

  The gunnery sergeant grasped the side of her head. His thumb swept across her cheek as he pulled her in for a kiss. “Remy.” Her name was chock full of emotion.

  Shadrach turned away and took the handle from John.

  “Be careful.”

  He nodded to the group, turned, and sprinted away keeping the suitcase steady as he ran. Bolton’s heart jumped into his throat. He’d have done that if he could run to the cave. Right? He’d love to be sure he would make that move, and put his life on the line for the town. But he hadn’t offered. His back held him captive from being the man he wanted to be.

  It was up to Shadrach now.

  **

  “Where’s the other suitcase, the one with the compound?”

  Remy turned to face John. The major general and Bolton were still in their huddle. Sam had come out. She’d heard John tell Sam what was happening, but all she could do was stare in the direction Shadrach had gone. She hated him for being noble. He should want to stay with her no matter what happened, shouldn’t he? Why did he have to be the one to die?

  Her breath hitched, and she fought back the emotion. Reason dictated he had made the right move, one man to save many. But she didn’t have to accept it.

  “Remy, where’s the compound?”

  She stepped back. “I hid it.”

  John’s face hardened. “Let me get it in my safe.”

  Remy shook her head. “If the bomb explodes, what does it matter? The compound will be buried under rubble.”

  Major General Halt muttered something about “arrogance,” as though it was her fault she had been born with this IQ and the ability to reason out problems without the nuisance of emotions clouding her judgment.

  Her chest tightened as invisible bands wrapped themselves around her. Tighter.

  She turned to the east to the ranch. Beyond that and a southerly turn, he would be run uphill to the cave. Then inside, through the winding tunnels. Daire was gone now, but Maude’s body would still be there.

  Would Shadrach’s body lie forever entombed there, also?

  Remy shattered. John got close, his hand on her shoulder. “Have faith.”

  She glanced at him. What did faith have to do with any of this? “He’ll either succeed, or he’ll die. Those are the only two options. Believing one way or another won’t alter the outcome.”

  **

  “This is Hal, someone come in. What’s happening?”

  Sam stepped away from the huddle, back toward the sheriff’s office. “Hal, this is Sam.” John was still talking to Remy, consoling her.

  “Sam. Thank goodness. Beth’s been worried.”

  “Are you all okay?”

  “Sitting tight. Everyone’s up again. How about Remy?”

  “We’re a
ll good.”

  He had to keep an eye on Tommy. No jail was inescapable. If he took its security for granted that would be when Tommy would prove him wrong by escaping. Sam shut the sheriff’s office door behind him and sat at his desk. He’d prayed for Shadrach as soon as the man decided to take the missile to the cave. Not an easy decision, and Sam respected him for it. But Sam had things to take care of here.

  Tommy grasped the bars, his hip cocked and one knee angled out between them.

  The radio went off again. “Good. How about everyone else?”

  Bolton came on. “I’m going downstairs to check on Matthias and everyone. Sit tight, Hal. This will hopefully all be done soon.”

  “Okay. Beth wants a word, Sam.”

  Sam clicked the button. “Go ahead.”

  She came on. “Hey.”

  His lips curled up a little, even though Tommy would see it. “You okay?” Everyone could hear them, but he didn’t much care. If Shadrach didn’t complete this final mission, it would be over for all of them. Don’t think that way.

  “I’m okay. Will this really all be over soon?”

  “I hope so.”

  Tommy smirked. The man had no remorse over what he’d done, and Sam pummeling him into a bloody mess wasn’t going to force Tommy to realize it. He might want to hurt Tommy, but it wouldn’t help other than to make Sam feel worse. What he had to do was protect the town from Tommy causing any more havoc.

  If the missile was contained by the cave, all they had to do was place green flares on all the roofs on Main Street, and when the military came, they would know everything was now okay. And he prayed it would be.

  **

  Bolton lifted his hands. “If you can keep your questions to a minimum, I can explain more.” He glanced around. Peacemaker wasn’t exactly in his job description, and truth be told, he’d only come down so Nadia Marie understood what Shadrach had undertaken.