Brotherhood Protectors: Vigilante Justice (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Jordan Dane's Mercer's War Series Book 3)

by Jordan Dane

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Mary Jernigan. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Brotherhood Protectors remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Mary Jernigan, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Vigilante Justice

  Elle James’s Brotherhood Protectors Amazon Kindle World

  Crossover with

  Jordan Dane’s Mercer’s War Series – Book 3

  Vigilante Justice

  Mercer’s War – Book 3

  After retired SEAL Hank Patterson gets a disturbing call from an old friend, pleading for him to look into the mysterious disappearance of a young college student, Hank fears his Brotherhood Protectors wouldn’t have the resources or experience to find the kid. FBI Special Agent Molly Greenbriar gives him the name of a former CIA operative—Mercer Broderick—who can get the job done, but she fears he’s turned into a mercenary for hire. Hank has little choice but to contact a shadowy man he’s not sure he can trust.

  From his fortress sanctuary of Zion, built in the mountains of Wyoming, Mercer lives with his handpicked team. He isn’t keen on the idea of helping someone in the FBI. Not after he’s forged a network of wealthy benefactors across the world—the Alliance—influential, high powered people who secretly yearn for a new world order of vigilante justice.

  But when Mercer’s computer genius uncovers a disturbing pattern of missing teens and young college students in Montana that has fallen under the radar of the FBI, Mercer sees a larger operation in play. The violent abductions of young Dreamer immigrants are at the heart of a dark web of conspiracy that Mercer must stop.

  In a surprise face-to-face meeting, Hank confronts Mercer and insists on assigning Joseph ‘Kujo’ Kuntz and his dog, Six, to the Alliance team. Kujo has his hands full when he faces a well-funded, highly-skilled team of operatives, hell bent on vigilante justice.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Bibliography

  Dedication

  To Eli & Owen

  Brothers are forever.

  Chapter 1

  Chaps Beer Parlor

  Helena, Montana

  11:30 pm

  “That man’s voice makes my insides quiver,” the pretty brunette said as her fingers played with the top button of his shirt. “…in a good way.”

  While a jukebox played Garth Brooks—with the country singer professing his devotion to ‘Friends in Low Places’—twenty-one-year-old Ichiro Tanaka shelled peanuts for Danielle, the young woman who’d hit on him tonight. She couldn’t stop touching him and running her fingers through his thick dark hair and calling him a ‘hard body.’ At first, the intimacy of her touch took him off guard, but after his second beer, he warmed to the idea.

  “Is your condition contagious?” Tanaka asked.

  “I hope so.” She smiled. “But trust me, I have the cure, baby.”

  Ichiro didn’t have to ask Danielle what she meant. Her eyes told him all he needed to know.

  He winked, and after he nudged her with his shoulder, she grinned and leaned in to kiss him, but a loud noise stopped her. A slot machine siren blared and flashing neon lit a corner near the pool tables, followed by a shrill scream from the winner. A woman, dressed in tight Wranglers, cowboy boots, and a low cut tank top, scooped up the coins as fast as she could.

  “Is it always this crazy at Chaps?” Danielle asked, raising her voice over the noise.

  “Pretty much.” Ichiro reached for the Mason jar in front of him and took another pull of his beer. “Looks like there’s a bachelorette party happening over there. A rowdy crew.”

  He nudged his head to the far corner.

  “I know. I’m the one getting married.”

  Ichiro winced and furrowed his brow, wondering if he’d heard her correctly.

  “If you’re the one getting hitched, why are you over here with me?”

  “It’s my last night as a free woman and I chose you.”

  Before he asked Danielle what she meant, a voice distracted him.

  “Hey man, Zach said we could put our drinks here while we danced. You cool with that?” A guy set two drinks down, with a girl standing next to him.

  Ichiro hadn’t come alone to Chaps. He was the guest of Zach Upton, his best friend from Montana State University in Bozeman. At the university, they roomed together, but in Helena, Zach’s family opened their home to Ichiro whenever they had a break from classes.

  “Yeah, sure. Go get crazy.” Ichiro nodded and the couple headed for the dance floor.

  Zach’s table at Chaps always drew a crowd, the advantage of being a local. When Danielle had come over earlier to introduce herself to Ichiro, he hadn’t thought twice about the pretty girl’s bold move. He thought she’d been someone Zach knew.

  Now he didn’t know what to believe.

  “You chose me?” he asked. “For what?”

  “Do you really have to ask?” Danielle nuzzled his ear. “You stand out in a sea of facial hair and plaid, darlin.’ You’re drop dead gorgeous and I’ve never had Chinese before. What does your pot sticker taste like?”

  Ichiro gritted his teeth and kept a poker face at the woman’s rudeness.

  “I’m not Chinese. I’m Japanese.”

  “Whatever. I like sushi. I eat it raw whenever I can.” She reached a hand under the table and ran fingers up his thigh until his cock reacted. “Let’s go to my car. I can do things with my mouth you won’t believe, honey.”

  “Actually, that I can believe.” He grabbed her hand to stop her.

  “Hey, Tanaka, you ready for another round? I’m buying.” Zach pointed to Danielle and said, “What about you? You ready?”

  “More than ready.”

  When she smiled at Ichiro, he knew she wasn’t talking about beer.

  “No, we’re good.” After he waved Zach off, his friend shrugged and left for the bar.

  Ichiro normally didn’t answer for any woman he was with, but he didn’t want to encourage Danielle to stay, not now.

  “What about your fiancé?”

  “What about him?” She finished her beer. “We have an open relationship. He lets me do whatever I want, to whoever I want.”

  “Sounds like you’re made for each other.”

  Danielle grinned like a lotto winner, not hearing his sarcasm.

  Ichiro wasn’t ready to settle down. He had to finish his education, something he owed his selfless parents who wanted him to grow up in America at great sacrifice, the only country he’d ever known. He wanted to get married one day and have kids, but he couldn’t imagine not cherishing the woman he would love.

  He always believed he’d know her face when he saw her, like the stories his mother told him about meeting his father. Fool
ish perhaps, but if that made him a closet romantic, Ichiro embraced his ideals. He would never betray the woman he loved and couldn’t understand someone like Danielle.

  “Come on, sushi boy. What do you have to lose, but a little tempura batter?”

  “My self-respect,” he mumbled.

  “What?” She leaned closer and hadn’t heard what he said.

  “Look, I think you better get back to your party.” Ichiro slid off his bar stool and stood. “Good luck to you and your fiancé.”

  “I don’t understand, or maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” Danielle lost her smile. “I’m offering you a free blow job. What guy says no to that?”

  “Me, I guess. Sorry.” Ichiro wasn’t sorry, but he didn’t want to embarrass her more than he already had. He’d humiliated himself, too.

  “Wait a minute. Are you gay?”

  Ichiro sighed.

  “That must be it,” he said. “Tonight I’m gay, whatever works for you.”

  Danielle glared at him before she launched into a fury of curses and walked off in a huff. Around his table, all eyes turned toward him. Ichiro hated being the center of attention and heat raged under the skin of his neck and face.

  He shrugged as Zach came back to the table with a fresh pitcher of beer.

  “What happened? Where’s your girl?”

  “Not my girl.”

  Everybody’s girl, apparently. He didn’t say those words aloud. That would be impolite.

  He ignored Danielle staring at him from across the bar, and from the looks of it, she’d made him the entertainment for her party, telling whatever stories she conjured at his expense. Her drunken friends grew louder as they pointed and laughed at him.

  Danielle had been beautiful on the outside, but the true beauty of a woman took root in her heart and flourished in her actions, like a precious garden.

  “I need some fresh air,” he told Zach.

  “What’s up, Tanaka? You look like you’re ready to head out. Say the word and I’m with you, buddy.”

  “No, you finish your beer and visit with your friends. I’ll be back.”

  His encounter with Danielle had tainted his evening. She reminded him that some relationships between a man and a woman were fragile if they had shallow roots. He wanted what his parents had. Yes, a corny thought, but a rare and treasured gift.

  Ichiro shoved through the crowd, ignoring the jeers from Danielle’s ladies as he left Chaps and hit the cool night air. He left the neon lights behind as he wandered down Railroad Avenue, heading for a small park at the end of the block where an old black train engine stood.

  He climbed onto the train and explored the engine compartment before he descended the stairs on the other side, but three large men wearing hoods blocked his way.

  “I don’t want any trouble.”

  The men closed in.

  “Too late.” A deep gravelly voice sent chills down Ichiro’s spine.

  He braced for a fight, but he knew things would end badly if he stayed. When Ichiro turned to run, another masked coward stopped him with a sucker punch to the gut. He doubled over in pain, but the men weren’t done. They dragged him to his feet. Two held his arms while the others took turns pummeling him with their fists.

  “Stop,” he begged. “Why…are you…d-doing this?”

  The men laughed as they hit him and called him names. Ichiro’s knees buckled and he couldn’t stand, but the men held him firm. They wouldn’t answer his question until one of them finally did. It was the last thing he heard.

  “You don’t belong here, slant.”

  ***

  Bozeman, Montana

  Next day- Evening

  Seventeen-year-old Gabriela Rivera lit two candles at Holy Rosary Catholic Church with shaky fingers as she knelt before a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she stared into the flickering flames, colored by the red votive glass, before she turned her eyes toward the porcelain face of the Mother of God and made the sign of the cross.

  For over two months, she had come to the church every evening, praying to God and the Blessed Virgin, but nothing had changed.

  ***

  Sunset Hills Cemetery

  Two Months Ago

  “Please, don’t take my father. He did nothing wrong,” Gabriela cried out.

  No one listened. Faces in the crowd stared in shock. Some raised their voices, but no one stopped the ICE deportation force. The angry men in uniform arrested both her parents at the funeral of a family friend.

  “Momma. What’s happening?” She reached for her crying mother, but a man in uniform shoved her away. “Can they do this?”

  “Mi hija.” Her mother wept as an officer shoved her into the back of a windowless van.

  “Why are you doing this?” Gabriela pleaded with the men who refused to look her in the eye.

  “Step back from the vehicle.” A man locked the van’s rear door and climbed into the passenger seat, without looking back.

  Gabriela clutched at her stomach and dropped to her knees in the middle of the road, crying. Her parents were under arrest and ICE drove them away. Why hadn’t they taken her?

  ‘You were born here, Gabriela. You’re an American. No one can take that away from you.’

  She remembered her father holding her, when he tried to prepare her, but she never thought the day would actually come. When the harsh reality of her situation closed in, she bent over and emptied her stomach on the asphalt. People watched her get sick, but no one came to help her.

  Gabriela’s only family had been taken away. How could she fight for them? She didn’t have money for lawyers. Her father had worked three jobs to make sure they had a roof over their heads and enough money for her to finish high school. Now none of that mattered.

  She would never forget the day her life ended—when she would no longer feel safe or be able to count on her mother and father.

  ***

  Holy Rosary Catholic Church

  Bozeman, Montana

  8:20 pm

  Gabriela wiped the tears from her face and stood before the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The porcelain face of the effigy shone by candlelight and looked like an iridescent pearl. The Virgin’s eyes stared down upon the girl as if she stood before the Mother of God, for real—that’s what Gabriela wanted to believe. She made the sign of the cross and put a donation to the church into a metal box near the side altar, from coins she had in her pocket.

  Nothing had changed. She still woke every day—afraid.

  The nightmares were the worst. She relived the day her parents were taken over and over. It had been her fault. Her mother and father sacrificed everything for her to grow up in America. Her family had been torn apart because of her.

  She’d been told there would be a hearing when her parents could plead their case to a judge. Gabriela prayed she would see them in court, but that never happened. A lawyer in a wrinkled suit with scuffed shoes had explained they’d been deported ‘based on expedited removal.’ No hearing.

  She hadn’t seen them since the day at the cemetery. Only two phone calls, but hearing their voices would never be enough. If she visited Mexico, she couldn’t count on coming back to America. She’d never lived in Mexico. She always thought of herself as an American.

  Gabriela walked toward the front of the church with her head down. She zipped up her windbreaker against the evening chill before she went outside to find her bicycle, but a man’s voice made her stop and turn around.

  “It’s good to see you here again, Gabriela.”

  Father Raymond, dressed in a black cassock and white clerical collar, had followed her down the side aisle toward the parish door.

  “Hello, Father. I didn’t see you.”

  “Any news from your family?” the clergyman asked.

  News? There would be no news, she wanted to tell the priest. She only shook her head.

  “I miss your father’s company. We always had good talks whenever he volunteered
at the church.”

  Gabriela smiled.

  “How is school? Are you studying hard?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to lie to a priest. Gabriela only answered him with a smile and wishful thinking.

  “I’m looking into a summer session at MSU. My parents always wanted me to go to college.”

  She hadn’t been able to focus on her high school studies. She did the best she could because her father had given up too much for her education, but her heart hadn’t been in it.

  “I’m praying for you and your family, Gabriela.”

  “Thank you, Father. We—” She fought the sting of fresh tears. “I appreciate your prayers. Good night.”

  She left the safety of the church, a place that had become her second home.

  Gabriela reached into her pocket for the key to the lock securing her bicycle on a rack outside the church. She didn’t hear footsteps behind her until it was too late.

  Someone grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground. A hand smothered her face. She kicked and fought back, but the man was too strong. A vehicle screeched to a stop at the curb and the man spun her around to face it. Gabriela screamed through the man’s hand, but he cursed obscenities in her ear, saying what he would do to her if she didn’t shut up.

  Gabriela didn’t stop fighting.

  The dark van opened its doors in front of her. She flailed her arms and kicked harder when she saw two more men inside, hiding in the shadows. Hands groped her body as they pulled her inside the dark. If these men took her now, she’d never see her family again.

  They would kill her.

  When Gabriela felt the prick of a needle jab her neck, she lost her struggle. She couldn’t move her arms or legs and the shadows claimed her.

  ***

  Eagle Rock, Montana

  Days later

  Retired SEAL, Hank Patterson, stared into the rugged peaks of the Crazy Mountains from the front porch of his ranch after he’d received a disturbing phone call. Not even the purple hue of the foothills could pacify him, with white tufted clouds clinging to sharp ridgelines like wisps of cotton candy. A friend needed him, and for the first time, he wasn’t sure he should deliver.