Colorado Fire - Colorado Heart 2

by Sara York

  "Your friends are looking for you. They're desperate now. You just stay quiet and we'll be fine."

  He glanced down the hill to the field where the guys had spread out, watching them walk in a line as they moved across the area. They would figure out what had happened. They were too good to miss the mess he'd made by the fence. He was high enough up the hill not to be seen, but if Marshal woke right now, he'd make too much noise.

  It was only a matter of time before they found him. Again the question of abandoning the man popped in to his thoughts. If he kept Marshal with him, he could gain some leverage, figure out how to get past their defenses and make a move. But Marshal had been trained to not succumb to interrogation tactics. He'd never give up information.

  He'd need to make a decision soon. Right now, he could stay with Marshal. If the guys got closer, he'd run and attack later.

  *~*~*

  Grant closed his eyes and shut out the voices around him. There was only one person who would come onto Wild Bluff and take one of their men. No one else knew where they were. None of their targets could pinpoint them. Everyone was careful about hiding their identity. They all knew how to ensure they weren't followed. If they even suspected that they were being followed home, they'd change directions, take an exit and stop for food or gas. It could only be his ex who'd come on to the ranch and done this. That he'd taken Marshal was particularly disturbing.

  "Hey, I've got a theory you're not going to like." There was enough light from their flashlights for Grant to see each man. They'd all quieted and were staring at him. His throat closed up causing him to swallow. The guys shuffled their feet as their shoulders drooped.

  "What do you think, Grant?" Duff asked.

  "Whoever came onto our property and took Marshal knew what they were doing. We are careful when we leave and when we come back. No one knows our location. This wasn't random."

  The men grumbled but one voice rose above the others, voicing exactly what Grant was thinking.

  "Are you saying Craig is back?" Mike asked.

  "I hope not, but who else would take Marshal?" Grant shook his head. "Maybe I'm wrong, but there isn't really anyone else who would go to these lengths. If someone figured out we were assassins and wanted get retribution, they sure as hell wouldn’t have taken Marshal, they would have killed him and the horse, hiding all the evidence until they snuck up on us, butchering us as we sat unaware. This feels personal."

  "Shit." Duff scratched his head and glanced back at the place in the fence that had been cut. "You think he's up there watching us?"

  "No way he could have lugged Marshal up the hill on his own. If Marshal were awake, he'd be raising hell," James said.

  "We need to get Marshal back." Zander moved toward the fence but James's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  "You stay put. We'll go look."

  "It's too big. Too much space to cover," Zander said.

  Grant stepped forward and held up his hand. "Zander, James is right. You're too involved. We're going to follow the path the guy left."

  "It's dark. We might miss something," Tucker said.

  "We'll go slow." Grant replied.

  "Wait." Zander didn't say anything for a long moment. His brows were bunched as he stared at the ground. Grant felt for him. If Roger were in the same situation, he knew he wouldn't be thinking straight.

  "Say it, Zander," Duff said.

  "Weapons. Who among us has a gun?" Zander's gaze came to rest on Grant's. "He'll kill us, won't he? He won't aim wide or hold back because it's us. Am I right?"

  Grant blew out a slow breath. "He's right. Craig will shoot to kill. He won't hesitate just because he lived here with us. He's not our friend. He's the enemy."

  Silence fell among them. Realizing that one of their friends, ex-friends, would gun them down, not even pausing to give a warning, was sobering. Zander stepped into the center of the circle.

  "Marshal is my lover. I'm too close to go in with you, but you can't go in without guns. We need to make a plan—a real plan. Let's think about this before we act. He's high on adrenaline. He'll make stupid decisions."

  "Zander's right." Tucker said. "We can't just go following Craig and Marshal up the mountain. He'll sacrifice Marshal and won't hesitate to kill us if he feels cornered. I know we want to get Marshal back no matter the cost, but we have to think about this before we jump in with both feet."

  "Okay, we obviously need to slow down. If he's going to kill Marshal, he's already done it," Duff said.

  Zander sucked in a breath and his whole body shuddered. Grant placed his arm around the man, supporting him. It was weird comforting Marshal's lover. Not that he and Marshal were ever like that, but they could have easily been together had he not been so stupid. Marshal wasn't his, but he cared deeply for the guy. And Zander was his buddy. He'd do anything for the pair.

  "We need equipment," Tucker spoke, stepping into the center of the circle, taking the lead role. "Night vision goggles, communication headsets, guns with rubber bullets in case Marshal is used for a shield. I think Mike should be equipped as a sharpshooter. I'll take lead, planning the operation. Grant, I want you to be the commander on the ground. We'll work together to develop the best plan possible."

  "Looks like we've got it covered. Let's head back to the ranch," Duff said.

  "Not yet. We need to make it look like we're still here." Tucker glanced around the group. "We need a branch to tie our flashlights to. One truck will head back with everyone but one of us inside. One guy will stay here, moving the branches around, making it look like we're still looking for Marshal or at least planning."

  "Good idea," Grant said.

  They found two sticks and tied the flashlights to the branches, pointing them so they looked almost like people were walking round carrying them. Billy stayed behind to man the branches, acting like he was multiple people. They loaded quietly into the truck, Zander sat between him and Duff, his hands shaking as they rumbled down the dirt path. The rest of the guys were piled in the bed of the truck. They were silent on the way back, each of them probably thinking about killing a friend.

  Grant knew it would be hard for Zander to stay behind, but he would be a danger to them all. Grant only hoped they could save Marshal before Craig took his life. He had doubts that Marshal was still alive. It would be too much to hope for with Craig already having killed other innocents. He hated this, hated that his friend was in danger. He should have taken Craig out when he had a chance.

  *~*~*

  Tucker went through the possibilities, weighing each alternative. By the time the truck got back to the main house, he was sure they would be able to save Marshal if he was still alive. They unloaded from the truck and went into the house, staying quiet as they moved.

  When they were all in the kitchen and everyone was assembled around the table, Tucker spoke. "First things first, we need someone to scan all of the video surveillance, checking to see if anything was caught."

  "I'll do it," Duff said.

  "Thanks. Now, Zander, this is where you come in. I need you to take the night vision telescope and a communication device up to the barn. You'll be positioned in the tower. It will be cold and you'll be up there all night most likely, plan accordingly. You are our eyes. I need you to watch for any movement on the mountain. It will be tedious and frustrating, but we need you in this position."

  "Mike, you and Billy are the only ones who will have bullets that will kill. I was thinking it would only be you as a sharpshooter, but I want Billy on that task too. Everyone else will be using rubber bullets. I don't want us to kill Marshal by mistake."

  "I'm going to go prepare my gun," Mike said.

  That left Grant, James, and himself to do the tracking. "We need night vision equipment, tactical headsets, Glocks with rubber bullets, and our flack jackets." He pulled up a plat map of the area, checking out the back side of the mountain. Grant looked over his shoulder and James came around too.

  "What do you think?" Grant asked
.

  "We have to follow the trail that Craig left. The mountain is too big," Tucker said.

  "I agree." James stood and headed to the den. "I'll grab the guns, the bullets, and the headsets."

  "I'll get the night vision set up and flack jackets," Grant said.

  Tucker was left alone to stare at the map. He wondered how the hell he was going to do this. What if they were going at this all wrong? He hated having one of his friends in danger. It was no different than other missions, easy actually, but in reality, this was the worst situation he'd ever been in.

  "I'm ready," Grant said.

  James came in right behind him and handed Grant and Tucker a Glock. "Rubber bullets are in these clips."

  Tucker took the gun and checked the chamber, finding it empty. He grabbed night vision goggles and a headset. Grant and James suited up, grabbing a flack jacket and strapping it on. They'd grabbed enough equipment for Billy and Tucker prepped Billy's rifle, making sure it was set for him. Billy might need to make minor adjustments, but he should be okay.

  His heart felt heavy as they moved through the kitchen to the exit. They loaded in a truck and took off. This could all go to hell so quickly they could end up dead. He didn't want any of his men to die tonight, but Craig needed to be stopped.

  When they arrived back in the field, they climbed out of the truck and headed to the fence line. The flashlights moved up ahead, looking like they were still searching the area. Billy was a trouper for keeping up the ruse. Of course, with the truck back in the field, Craig would know they were going to come after him. Or at least he should know, but maybe he was already on the other side of the mountain.

  Billy pulled on a flack jacket and put on the headset. They did a mic check then moved out, Grant leading the way. They stepped through the barbwire fence, bending and stretching it so they didn't snag their pants on the sharp points.

  Following the trail proved difficult. If it were daylight, they'd be able to see better, but in the pitch-black under the trees, footprints on the hillside didn't show up very well. Slowly they progressed but hadn't made it far. Tucker felt like they'd made a huge mistake doing this. Getting Marshal back was priority but he doubted if they'd ever catch up to Craig.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Craig saw that the guys were headed up and he climbed another ten feet with Marshal before the man woke. At first, Marshal was disoriented. Then, he seemed to focus and his brows bunched.

  "You fucker." Marshal's words were slurred.

  He tried to stand but Craig pushed him back easily. Furrowed brows and a severe frown were aimed at Craig. He almost laughed, but he held it in. He needed to appear strong in front of Marshal because he really needed the man to comply with his wishes. It wouldn't do for Marshal to think for himself if Craig wanted control.

  "Get to your feet," Craig commanded.

  "I don't think so." Marshal's shoulders dipped before he lowered to the ground, lying on his back.

  "Really. You don't have a choice. I have the gun and your hands are tied." Craig had debated about using the wire to bind Marshal's hands behind his back or in front of him and ultimately chose the front. It was a risky move, but tying in front would allow Marshal to climb on his own, at least somewhat.

  "Fuck you," Marshal spat out.

  "No thanks. Though, I do find it interesting that you're fucking my leftovers. How is Grant?"

  Marshal narrowed his eyes then looked away, his face heating. He figured Marshal was the type of guy to gloat. That he'd finally scored Grant should have Marshal crowing.

  Craig had hooked up with Grant to gain more access to sensitive documents. He'd seen that Duff favored the man early on and he wanted what Grant had. It had been easy to manipulate Grant into a relationship. He'd been so pliable. Of course he'd matured, becoming less pathetic as time wore on. Grant had actually grown a set and started telling Craig he couldn’t share some of the stuff he and Duff talked about. But that was the whole reason he'd gotten in to a relationship with the sniveling little brat.

  "What, not going to brag about how much better you are in bed than me? You not interested in telling me how good Grant says you are?"

  "Craig, you're clueless about relationships and what makes them work. You didn't deserve Grant when you had him, and you sure as hell don't deserve to hear what's up with him now."

  "Get to your fucking feet and get moving." Craig had had enough. He no longer wanted to listen to Marshal yammer on. Something was happening below. The flashlights had been moving and he'd thought the men were still far away, but it seemed like they were closer. He looked over the small ledge they'd perched on, searching for movement. Being on the mountain sucked.

  Craig pulled Marshal to his feet, steadying him as he swayed. He shouldn't have knocked the guy out, but he'd been surprised. Now he almost regretted taking Marshal hostage. It had been a spur of the moment thing, forcing him to improvise.

  *~*~*

  Marshal's legs wobbled and he almost fell to the ground. His head throbbed and his stomach churned. He had no idea if the guys were looking for him or if they just thought he was out riding the range, trying to get some privacy. He wondered what had happened to Dusty. He hoped Craig hadn't hurt him. The horse was good, older and a bit slow at times, but he was sweet.

  Craig's hand on his arm repulsed him but also steadied him. As he climbed, he tried to work his hands free but the wires around his wrists were too tight. The circulation was being cut off. He'd need to figure a way out of this or risk losing sensitivity in his hands.

  They walked for about ten minutes before Marshal lost his footing and came down hard on his right shoulder. The air whooshed out of his lungs and he groaned as he rolled to his back.

  "Get up."

  "Give me a minute. The wire is too tight. I can't feel my fingers."

  "Get the fuck up and move."

  "I can't," Marshal roared. He was getting sick of being pushed around but Craig did have the upper hand. Marshal just needed to stay alive long enough to find the one thing he could use against Craig. Then he'd have a clue how to get out of this mess.

  Craig dropped to the ground beside Marshal and pulled his arm back, ready to hit him but the punch never came. They were both breathing hard, the darkness hiding Craig's expressions. He let his fear and confusion play out, hoping to make Craig think he was more upset than he was. Craig had always underestimated him. Of course, back when Grant had paired up with Craig, he'd been emotionally wrecked. That would work for him. Craig would think he was still upset, maybe gloating a bit because for some reason Craig thought he was with Grant. This could work to his advantage.

  "Loosen the wire. It's too painful and I can't go fast," Marshal whined.

  "Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm not putting any slack in that wire. You'll try to escape."

  Marshal thought about staying calm, but he changed his mind, choosing a different path. "Come on. Please. It freaking hurts."

  For a moment, Marshal thought he'd pushed Craig too far then his gaze softened. It was good that Craig thought he was weak. He could use that to get the man to slip up.

  Neither the moon nor the stars were visible through the tall pines. He had no idea how long he'd been out here. The sun set close to five at this time of year and the moon had been full two days ago. If he got a look at the moon he might be able to figure out how long he'd been in the wilderness with Craig. He was cold and his arms and legs were chilled. His fingers were beyond numb.

  Craig toed him with his boot, pushing him to get up. Marshal slowly stood, taking a long time pretending to be unbalanced on his feet.

  "Quit messing around." Craig got close and pushed him again. This time Marshal caught himself before going down, but Craig swung, catching Marshal on the jaw. He fell, his arm going down hard on a rock. The crunch of bone registered before the pain blossomed. Marshal lay still for a long moment as Craig raged at him, aiming a few well-placed kicks to his back and shoulders.

  When Craig slowed his pun
ishment, Marshal stood on shaky legs, his head spinning. The growl grew in his throat but he suppressed it, fighting the anger that threatened to overwhelm him. If he had any chance of survival, he needed to appear meek and afraid. Craig's confidence would build and Marshal would be able to take him by surprise.

  "Get moving," Craig barked.

  Marshal shuffled his feet, unsure how he continued to move. The pain was almost unbearable. Craig prodded him and he would shuffle forward a bit, but he was moving slowly, hardly making any headway.

  The urge to get free still played in the back of his mind. They had already covered a huge distance and were almost at the top of the hill when he heard a noise behind him. Craig must have heard it too because he stopped and turned to face the path they'd just come up. They were on a flat space about twenty feet by ten. If he was going to act, this would be his best bet.

  Marshal glanced around then moved. Bending at the waist he butted Craig in the back. Weakness and dizziness made him slow, and he hadn't used enough force. Add to the mix that they weren't as close to the slope as he thought. Craig didn't fall, but Marshal dropped to his knees, leaving himself vulnerable. In that one moment, he really thought he was going to die. Craig spun around and hit Marshal across the face. The dirt and rocks came at him and he didn't fight it. He cried out as pain flashed through his body. Burning hot pain raced through him, leaving him almost unconscious. If he could just hold out a bit longer, he knew his guys were close behind him. The crunch he'd heard earlier had to be them sneaking up the mountain. Craig knew they were close too, unless that noise came from a wild animal, which if it was a deer, or worse a bear, he was screwed.