Take the Money and Run

by Samantha Cole

  Stepping out of the car, he greeted the foursome. “They’re about a block and a half behind me.”

  From where they were standing, Sean was the only one who could observe the vehicle without being obvious. Trusting his brothers to have his back, KC didn’t bother to turn in the direction indicated. “We’ll just stand here chatting until they decided to do a drive-by.”

  While they waited, he filled Brian in with the rest of the plan. When they were finished here, Brian and Uncle Dan would leave. Their uncle would return to his apartment and wait for Moriah’s arrival while Brian headed back to work for a few hours before returning. The others would remain in the cottage, awaiting the arrival of KC’s teammates. After creating a diversion, they would sneak Moriah out of the area via an ATV on the beach, which T3 was bringing with him. Peanut would enter the same way.

  Once Moriah was safely hidden above the hardware store, Sean would make a big production about leaving and then meet up with Brian later on. After leaving Dan’s, T3 and Trouble would return to the cottage with the rest of their gear, again from the beach, to help set the trap. From that point, they would just have to wait for the bad guys to walk into it.

  As KC finished laying it all out, Sean spoke. “They’re making their drive-by.”

  Everyone acted casual as the Explorer cruised by doing the local 25-miles-per-hour speed limit. Moriah held her breath and forced herself not to glance at the vehicle as it eased past the driveway on the opposite side of the road. When they were certain the occupants had seen her, the Malones broke up the group. Brian and Dan, with Jinx following, headed to their respective vehicles while the others walked up the driveway with Moriah between the two men.

  Brian steered his car in the direction the Ford had taken to see if he could find where the out-of-towners were setting up their surveillance. The day was cool and overcast so few of the locals would be out, and the beach was basically deserted. If any of the men who were after Moriah were on the beach when it was time to bring in the ATVs, KC would contact Sheriff Griffin and coordinate a visit from the beach patrol to clear the way.

  Inside the house, Moriah was trembling as she wrapped her arms around KC’s narrow waist. “What do we do now?”

  Holding her tight, he kissed her gently, even though the rage he felt for the men in the SUV was coursing through his veins. “Now, we wait for reinforcements, and then the boys and I get to have some fun.”

  C

  HAPTER 20

  T hree hours had passed before KC's cell phone rang with the call he’d been waiting for. Pulling it out of the pocket of his cargo shorts, he glanced at the caller ID, then answered it. "T3, talk to me."

  “We’re a mile up the beach. Ready when you are.”

  Striding to the windows overlooking the beach, he picked up a pair of high-range binoculars. "Ok, give me a few minutes to clear the way. I'll call you when we're ready to go."

  Earlier, they had spotted one of the men from the SUV sitting on the beach, wearing black jeans, boots, and T-shirt. If he was trying to act as if he belonged, he was failing miserably. His clothes and mannerism screamed 'I’m not from around here, and I’m up to no good.' The other two jackasses were still in the vehicle parked a half a block away, on the side of the road in front of an empty house for sale. From that vantage point, they were only able to view the front of the cottage and the end of the driveway, not further up where KC's car was parked. Having changed into jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap, Brian was now two blocks away from them, sitting in his own dark blue, Dodge Ram truck.

  Bringing up the Sheriff in his contact list, KC called the sheriff and asked him to send the beach patrol over to get rid of the guy watching the house from the shoreline. It was a good fifteen minutes before he saw the bright yellow truck, with an overhead light bar, rolling south across the sand toward their intended target. The sheriff had warned his men to act as if everything was fine, and the only reason they were kicking the guy off the beach was that he was in a private, residential section.

  Once KC received the word from Brian all three men were in their vehicle, he contacted his teammates and informed them the coast was clear, literally. "Make it quick," he added and then turned to Moriah. "Are you ready?"

  "I guess so."

  Even if the quiver in her voice hadn’t clued him in, her anxiety was written all over her face. Placing his hands on her shoulder, he looked her straight in the eye. "Everything’s going to be okay. The boys and I do stuff like this all the time . . . but usually not here in the good old U.S. of A. Hang tight at Uncle Dan's and we’ll let you know when we have everything wrapped up here. I promise this is all going to work out." He sent a silent prayer up that it was one promise he didn’t have to break.

  Drawing her in for one last kiss before she left, he ignored the fact his uncle and brother were in the room and poured all his love into it. Never had he been more confident this was the woman for him, and he would do whatever it took to protect her. Not wanting to let her go, but knowing it was necessary to keep her safe, he pulled away from her. He stared into her Caribbean blue eyes and whispered, "I love you."

  She smiled. "I love you, too. Please be careful."

  "I always am," he swore. "Now, wait here until we’re ready for you."

  Moriah nodded, and he walked out the door to the deck. Spotting two ATVs zooming down the beach, he descended the stairs to the patio below him. The ATVs stopped on the beach side of the dunes, and two figures walked up the path toward him. The first person was T3 dressed in tan cargo shorts and a green long-sleeve T-shirt carrying a large black duffel bag. The second was Russell Banks wearing gray sweatpants and a black zippered sweatshirt with the hood pulled loosely over his head, effectively hiding his face from anyone looking at him from a distance. He was carrying two duffels.

  Both men shook KC's hand and then followed him up into the house. T3 shook hands with Sean and then Moriah before dropping his duffel on the dining table to unload it. When KC introduced Peanut to Moriah, the smaller man smiled and greeted her with his usual southern accent. "Nice to meet you, ma'am." He then turned to Sean and held out his hand. "Long time no see, my friend."

  Sean took the other man's hand. "It's good to see you, Russ. We appreciate the help."

  "No problem. I'm always up for a dirty, good time."

  Moriah’s shock was evident when Peanut quickly started shedding his clothes and then relieved when she saw he had shorts and a T-shirt on underneath. He handed her the sweats. "Here, put these on. This is where you become me, and I become you."

  At her dubious look, he reached into one of the bags he’d dropped on the floor and pulled out a wig with long, straight black hair. It was very close to Moriah's hairstyle, and she laughed. As she was pulling the sweats on over her own clothes, Peanut said, “Don’t worry, I brought my own girlie clothes to change into.” He grinned wildly as he added, "But I wouldn’t mind going through your unmentionables."

  She laughed even harder when KC growled from where he stood beside her. "If you do, I'll fucking kill you myself."

  When she finished getting dressed, KC pulled the hood over her head and around her face. She stared up at him. "Be careful, please."

  He brushed her cheek with his thumb, trying to soothe her worry. "I will. Now, let’s get you out of here. Tobi will take you up the beach to his truck and drive you over to Dan's. Stay out of sight until you hear from me."

  She nodded, went up on her toes to give him a swift kiss, and then she was out the door with T3 flanking her.

  Glancing at Peanut, KC had to laugh. No matter how many times he’d seen his teammate in a drag disguise, it still fucking tickled him. By now, the man was used to the razzing he received from the other SEALs and always took it good-naturedly. Dressed in hot pink sweatpants and a zip-up jacket, the SEAL had added a moderately stuffed push up bra to give him the figure of a woman. Striding toward the hallway bathroom, he carried the wig he would expertly apply. When all was said and done, and a big
pair of women’s sunglasses were added, the man could definitely pass as Moriah when viewed from the back and at a distance. Hopefully, it was all they needed to convince the bad guys Moriah was still at the cottage.

  Entering the living room again, Peanut struck a pose and batted his eyes at his teammate as he spoke in a falsetto voice. "See something you like, big boy?"

  Frowning, KC's eyes narrowed at the other man. "Knock it off, snookums."

  It wasn’t long before T3 returned to the cottage, via the beach, with Trouble in tow. They’d hidden the ATVs between the dunes of a currently unoccupied house a few lots north. Troy ‘Trouble’ Mason was six foot one and tipped the scales at 200 pounds on the nose. The blond-haired, blue-eyed, twenty-seven-year-old was a playboy in both looks and personality and had women of all ages throwing themselves at him everywhere he went. Whenever he was asked how he got his call sign, the explosive’s expert would respond, "Because I rain trouble down on the enemy before they ever see us coming.”

  Once they were all settled in the cottage, KC called the sheriff and asked him to tell the beach patrol unit to leave the area.

  * * *

  Sitting on the sand, Leo kept an eye on the house where they’d seen Moriah with four other men. Knowing one was a cop and seeing another one with a gun in a shoulder holster had been the only thing that had kept him from shooting and killing them all. Well, that and he needed the bitch alive to find out where the bag of money was.

  The two goons were sitting back in the truck, watching the house from the road. While he hated the sand getting all over him, it was better than being in a closed space with Goon One farting up a fucking storm.

  Movement north of the house caught his eye, and he watched a truck as it approached him, tossing up sand as it drove down the shoreline. When the vehicle stopped next to him, he saw a black shark logo and "Beach Patrol" on the side panels. The occupants were two uniformed men and the driver rolled down his window. "Sorry, sir, but this is a private beach. Someone called the dispatchers to say there was a non-resident sitting out here. You'll have to leave."

  Leo stood but didn’t approach the truck. Eyeballing the beach house, he asked, "Who called it in?"

  "I don't know, sir. The dispatcher didn’t pass on that information, but you still have to leave the area. There's a public beach about a half mile south of here you're welcome to enjoy."

  "Ok, thanks." He slowly walked back toward the house he’d been sitting behind, two lots down from where his target was. The pathway between the dunes which led to the patio and driveway was the same route he had used to gain entry to the beach. When he reached the dunes, he glanced over his shoulder and was disappointed to notice the patrol had parked their vehicle next to a nearby jetty and appeared to be settling in to eat lunch. Continuing along the path to the home’s driveway, he then made his way across the street to the Explorer. Goon One, sitting in the passenger seat, glared at him as he climbed into the back. "What’re you doing back here?"

  "Got kicked off the fucking beach by a patrol. Gotta wait for them to finish their lunch and leave before I can go back."

  When the man sneered in disgust at him, Leo wished he could put a bullet in the asshole’s head. Maybe when this was all over he’d do it just for kicks.

  * * *

  An hour after being kicked off the beach, with the beach patrol vehicle gone, their little friend from Chicago had taken up his post on the beach again. This time, however, he sat a bit further away on a jetty. Brian called KC to alert him to the fact the other two men had abandoned their surveillance, driven into town, and stopped at the local deli. It wasn’t long before they returned with their lunch and parked in the same spot along the roadway.

  Now as T3, Trouble, and Sean waited inside, KC and “Moriah” stepped out onto the porch, careful to remain at an angle so the man on the beach could only see Peanut from behind. They stood close together at the railing for a few minutes and engaged in a meaningless conversation. Sean exited the cottage a few moments later with his carry-on luggage and briefcase, which now contained two communication headsets, and made a show of saying goodbye. As he headed down the stairs toward the street where his rental car sat, KC and Peanut went back into the house. Trouble was observing the man on the beach through the window blinds. "He's making a phone call—probably telling his buddies Moriah and you are still here and are alone now."

  As Peanut removed his wig and changed into black tactical clothes, KC sat on the couch and made himself comfortable despite his desire to get this mess over with. "Great. Sean will circle around and meet up with Brian. If these guys are the idiots I think they are, only two of them will try to get into the house, and one will stay behind in the SUV for a quick getaway. We’ll take them down in here, and my brothers will take out the driver. Sheriff Griffin has agreed to keep his patrols off our road unless there’s an emergency. Brian will notify him when the action begins."

  The men attached their com-sets to their ears with the small microphones parallel to their cheekbones. They were all ready and now, just had to wait until dark, and then, hopefully, the bad guys would make their move.

  C

  HAPTER 21

  L eo was so bored he was ready to scream. And while he froze his ass off on the windy beach, Goon Two surveyed the front of the house from the comfort of the warm SUV. Goon One was currently catching some sleep in the passenger seat.

  Shivering, he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to live by the beach in such a quiet town. It fucking sucked. As soon as they recovered the money and gun, and the bitch was dead, they couldn't get back to Chicago fast enough for him. City life suited him perfectly, where the world was constantly alive and moving. He had only seen a few people walking along the shore earlier, but it appeared to be abandoned now. Nothing happened around here, and the silence was killing him.

  Well, something would happen later, he thought, laughing to himself. He was looking forward to killing Moriah's boyfriend she’d been out on the porch with earlier, then having a little fun torturing her. Maybe he'd even screw her before he put a bullet in her brain. She was one smokin’ hot chick, and he deserved to enjoy himself for a bit after all the trouble she’d caused him.

  Yawning widely, he stood and stretched his arms and legs. The ocean's rhythmic tide was making him sleepy. Rolling his neck and shoulders, he checked the time on his cell and found more time had passed than he had realized. Eleven forty p.m. It was definitely dark enough to stage their attack—the cloudy night would help prevent them from being too visible. Time to go wake up Goon One. His sidekick was going to wait for them in the car with the engine running, ready to drive off as soon as they jumped back in, hopefully with the bag of money and the gun. Time to have some fun.

  * * *

  KC checked the time on the old mantle clock above the fireplace. Trouble had snuck out to the beach as soon as the asshole who’d been watching the house headed to meet his buddies in their truck. He would stay there in case any of the assholes made a run for it in that direction. Another minute ticked by before Brian's voice came through the communication headsets of the three men in the house loud and clear. "Looks like they’re getting ready to move. Remember, guys, this is a non-sanctioned op on U.S. soil. Try not to kill anyone."

  He didn’t have to remind the SEALs. If they wounded or killed one of the suspects, there would be a lengthy inquiry into the incident, not only with the local law enforcement but also with NCIS. To top it off, they’d end up in deep, fucking shit with their commander—of the three, that was actually the worst thing that could happen.

  "They're on the move, driving slowly toward the cottage, no headlights." There was a long pause. "Looks like you were right, KC. The driver is staying with the vehicle. The smaller dude from the beach and a bigger guy dressed in all black are heading in. We'll take out the driver on your go."

  The men inside the house quickly and silently took up their positions. KC headed into Moriah’s bedroom, and T3 entered the other
one across the hall. They closed the doors behind them and waited. Peanut folded his small frame into the far corner of the living room behind the recliner, with a black Taser strapped to each leg.

  They had thought of making it easier for the suspects by leaving the door unlocked, but were afraid it might smell like a trap. After several long minutes, they heard the telltale clinking of glass breaking when one of the small window panes on the door was smashed. The suspects paused, apparently to see if anyone woke up, then a hand reached in and opened the door.

  The two men stepped into the small cottage, each armed with a 9mm semi-automatic in one hand and a flashlight in the other. They quickly scanned the interior and, as quietly as possible, made their way toward the bedrooms. Neither man saw the five-foot-six-inch Navy SEAL emerge silently from his hiding spot behind them.

  Goon One gestured the right bedroom door to Leo, as he took the left. They planned on taking out Moriah’s boyfriend first and then forcing her to tell them where the money and incriminating gun were. Both men reached out to open the bedroom doors at the same time, but neither hand made contact with the knobs. Both screamed in shock and pain, then dropped to the floor, their bodies in spasms as fifty-thousand volts of electricity briefly coursed through them. T3 and KC emerged from the behind the closed doors, picked up the weapons which had been dropped and made fast work of securing the suspects’ hands behind their backs with flexicuffs. KC activated his microphone so he could update his brothers. "Both tangos down. You’re clear to take out the driver.”

  His eyes then followed two sets of wires from where they were connected by barbs to the men on the ground, to a few feet away where a grinning Peanut held the Tasers. The smaller man just laughed. "Man, I fucking love these things."

  KC was halfway out the door when Sean’s voice came over the com-sets. "Suspect secure. Sheriff's Patrol is pulling up."