Killing Game (Veritas Book 2)

by Chandler Steele

  “Let’s get some distance from here in case Ellers gets nosy. Then I’ll call Veritas so they can tell the feds about the booby traps.”

  Cait took point. As he trailed in her wake, watching her move through the brush, he murmured a short prayer of thanks under his breath. How he’d keep the tough Marine alive from this point on, he didn’t know. All he hoped was that at the end of this mission, they’d still be together.

  *~*~*

  The compound’s mess hall was filled with long trestle tables and benches, like a kids’ summer camp, and mosquito netting covered the windows, a precaution that would be vital during the hotter months. Susan and Patti worked at one of the tables, sitting opposite of each other, a mound of unpeeled potatoes between them. Maudie was farther down the same table, working pie dough on a pastry cloth. The faint squeak of the rolling pin reminded Susan of home and her mom’s peach cobbler. She missed them both so much.

  As she pushed aside another peeled potato, the rolling pin kept moving, flattening the dough with practiced movements. Four pies sat nearby, all ready for the oven. The ones already baking smelled heavenly, the homey scent at odds with their situation. Patti’s hands still trembled as she shot nervous glances toward the older woman. Susan touched her arm, and the girl blinked over at her.

  “We’ll get out of here,” she whispered. “I promise.”

  Patti gave a short nod, glanced at Maudie again, then went back to her peeling.

  “So who are you, young lady?” Maudie asked. “Because you barely flinched when Ellers killed that man.”

  Susan realized she was talking to her. “I grew up in a bad neighborhood.” It sounded like a lie, and she knew it.

  So did Maudie. “No, I’m not buying that.” The woman set aside her rolling pin. “One thing Ellers didn’t allow for: If you kill a federal agent, they’re going to send more. Maybe you.”

  “Why would you think I’m one of them?”

  “Because you’re not like the others. You got that look in your eyes, the kind that tells me you’re a lot more dangerous than you appear.”

  Susan held her breath. Was this woman going to tell Ellers her concerns?

  Maudie shook her head. “If you’re here to take down the commander, God help you.” She hesitated, then continued. “He’s stoked up on his own ego. He’ll kill us all before it’s over.” Scooting the finished pie aside, the woman swept the bits of dough into a pile.

  “There’re enough of you to stop him if you wanted to,” Susan said.

  Maudie shook her head again. “The ones with the most guns are loyal to him. What they don’t understand is that he’ll make them die for the cause and never allow his own blood to be shed. I see that now.”

  A low rumble echoed in the distance and the ground shook.

  “What was that?” Patti asked, her head popping up.

  “One of the mines. The swamp is full of booby traps. Ellers thinks it’ll keep the feds from overrunning the place.” Her eyes were back on Susan now.

  “I’m sure the feds would let you surrender if you don’t fight them.”

  Maudie huffed. “Ellers will never allow that to happen.”

  How forgiving would her fellow agents be if some of them were maimed or killed as they closed in on the compound? She wouldn’t be, that was for sure.

  Maudie had just begun to roll out another crust when the door to the mess hall opened and a young man hurried in. He looked all of eighteen, if that.

  “You gotta come quick. Carlin got snake bit. The commander said you gotta take care of him.”

  Maudie dropped the rolling pin, then wiped her hands on her apron. “What kind of snake?”

  “Pygmy rattler. The little bastard was hiding in the woodpile.”

  “That’s exactly where it’d be.” She shifted her attention back to them. After a brief hesitation, Maudie took off her apron, placing it on the table next to Susan.

  “You, girl?” she said. Patti’s head popped up. “You come with me. You need to learn how to handle this kind of thing.”

  Susan suspected what the woman was about to do.

  “Me?” Patti began. “But—”

  “Go on with her,” Susan urged. “It’ll be okay. I’ll stay here and work.”

  “Really? A snakebite?” Patti said. “I don’t know a thing about that.”

  “But you’ll learn. It could come in handy down the line,” Susan replied.

  With a classic teen huff, the girl rose and headed for the door. Maudie leaned down and deftly slid something out of her pocket, hiding it under the apron.

  “I’m giving you a chance to go,” she whispered, “but you have to tell your people that not all of us are like Ellers. You have to give us a chance.”

  “I will.”

  “If you hurt this young man and you get caught, I’ll tell Ellers who you are. You won’t die easy. The last one sure didn’t.”

  Their eyes met. “Understood.”

  With a jerk of her head, the older woman turned and swept out the door, leaving only the guard behind. He looked at Susan nervously, and then his eyes fell on the unbaked pies. He licked his lips without realizing it. Food appeared to be his weakness, and given how skinny he was, Susan guessed he didn’t get near enough of it. Funny how Ellers didn’t seem to have the same problem.

  “There’s a couple of pies about to come out of the oven,” she said.

  “You don’t think she’d mind if I had some?”

  “I doubt it. Maudie’s okay. You’re helping her out by keeping an eye on me.”

  Still, he didn’t move from his post near the door, though his nostrils flared as the cooking timer dutifully counted down the last few minutes. Susan slid her hand under the apron, moving the pocketknife off the table and tucking it into her jeans. In the distance, another explosion shook the ground. It was up to her now: She could stay here and play tag with a madman, or she could run straight into a minefield.

  I’ll take the bombs any day.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The instant the second explosion occurred, Brannon lowered into a crouch. Cait was in the same position in front of him.

  “See anyone?” she asked.

  “No. You’d think Ellers would send someone out to check.”

  “Or maybe he’s an overconfident prick who believes he’s all secure in his big bad fortress.”

  “You’re getting your second wind. Or is it your third or fourth?”

  “What I’m getting is pissed,” she replied. “I take it personally when some SOB tries to kill me. Doesn’t matter if he’s an Afghani warlord or some homegrown militia asshole.”

  They were about to return to their feet when she raised her hand for silence. The sound of something crashing through the brush came from their left, followed by a pair of white-tailed deer.

  “Maybe one of their buddies set off the explosion,” Cait said.

  “Might be why Ellers doesn’t send out a patrol every time. Between the wildlife and malfunctions, this might happen pretty often. If so, that’s a blessing for us.”

  They slowly rose and continued on. A short time later, Cait’s hand went up again. Her hearing was more acute than his.

  “To our right, about thirty yards,” she murmured. “We got movement and it’s not a deer.”

  Crouching down, he waited, then spied a woman moving through the brush. She wasn’t running, but proceeding with a caution that said she knew about the booby traps.

  “It’s Susan,” Brannon said. “She found a way to escape. Do we catch up with her, or let her go?”

  “We need everyone on our team we can get. But she might not be willing to accept that you’re one of the good guys.”

  “Hopefully she’s got an open mind.”

  They split apart. While Cait circled in from behind to keep an eye on pursuers, Brann
on set off on a path to intercept the FBI agent. It wouldn’t be long before Ellers realized one of his hostages had taken off, so their window of opportunity was closing fast.

  Moving in tandem with Susan, he slipped ahead of her, remaining hidden. When he found an open space about forty feet in front of her, he stopped and waited. The instant she saw him, Susan came to a halt, her only weapon the pocketknife in her hand.

  “So you’re not dead. I wondered about that.”

  “I’m hard to kill, Special Agent Driscoll.”

  “Apparently.” Her eyes widened. “How do you know who I am?” Her stance didn’t change, but her focus on him kept her from realizing that Cait was slowly approaching from her rear.

  “I work for Veritas. You heard of them?” A curt nod told him that she had. “I’ve been undercover, trying to track where the money was going from the armored-car robberies.”

  “So you decided to participate in one to find out?”

  “Not my plan, but that’s the way it happened. I was bringing the money to Ellers. Why was I double-crossed? Did they figure out I wasn’t on the level?”

  “Not that I can tell,” she replied. “James told his uncle you took off with some of the money, and with you not around to dispute the claim . . . But now Ellers knows the truth.”

  “How?”

  “The missing money was found in someone’s backpack. James promptly lied his ass off, claiming he knew nothing about that.”

  “The rotten apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Cait said.

  Susan whirled around, backing away so she could keep an eye on both of them. Brannon could see her trying to decide: Trust them? Don’t trust them?

  Finally, she said, “Please tell me one of you has a phone.”

  Brannon nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Sure do.”

  “How’d you get free?” Cait asked, leaning against a tree.

  “One of the women helped me escape. She warned me about the mines.” The agent studied each of them in turn, then closed the knife and stuck it in a pocket. “I’m taking a huge risk, trusting you.”

  “Roger that,” Brannon said. “I’d argue that I’m in the same position. I suggest we head west of the compound, get us some cover so you can make your call. We’ll fill you in on what we found during recon.”

  “Lead on,” Susan gestured.

  “I’ll take point,” Cait said, setting off.

  The agent pointedly waited for Brannon to be next in line. Apparently, her trust only went so far.

  *~*~*

  They’d circled around to the area west of the compound and discovered it had fewer mines and pit traps, a mistake that Cait remarked upon. Perimeter defense was only as strong as the weakest area.

  “I’ll let my people know about that,” Susan said. She was still working through the discovery that these two were alive. Nothing had indicated they were working for Ellers, and in fact, they’d readily shared what information they’d gathered.

  In return, she’d explained how one big piece of apple pie had earned her freedom. She’d waited until her young, obviously hungry guard had dug into that pie, and then she’d carefully banged him on the head with a skillet. She’d left him tied up and gagged in the storage closet off the main kitchen.

  Then, as if God Himself was looking out for her, she’d made it to the north fence where it attached to one of the buildings without anyone spotting her. Using brute force and the knife, she’d managed to peel enough of the wire back to wiggle through, scraping herself up good as she did.

  “I’m worried Ellers will execute the kid just to make a point to the rest of his people,” she said. “He’s volatile, got a hair trigger.”

  “There’s another tiger trap straight ahead of us,” Cait advised. “Watch where you walk.”

  “You with Veritas too?” Susan asked as they skirted around the danger.

  “No, just filling in on the tour for my friend. Mike was worried something hinky might happen.”

  “So it did, in spades.”

  “Is Patti okay?”

  “So far. We’re trying to guard her, keep her away from James.” Which she hoped would happen now that she wasn’t at the girl’s side. Somehow, she suspected that Maudie might step up if needed.

  “Any clue what Ellers’s plan is?” Brannon asked.

  “No. Other than ranting about liberty and traitors, and executing one of his own people, he hasn’t said a word about what’s on the wind.”

  Cait halted, turning back to Brannon. “What do you think about this location?”

  “Looks good to me. We can hunker down in those bushes if need be.” He removed his rucksack, dug inside, and handed over the sat phone. “Caitlyn and I will take guard duty while you contact your office. Warn them that if they come in like they did at Waco, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

  “Believe it or not, we learned that lesson,” Susan replied sharply, snatching the phone from him.

  “Not dissing you folks, just pointing out the reality. Sometimes the higher ups can get a case of the stupids.”

  That, she couldn’t argue. Susan took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. Settling on the still-damp ground, she turned on the phone, waited for the signal, then dialed up her fellow agent in Brunswick. Once her boss in Atlanta found out what she’d been up to, the shit was going to hit the fan, and she wasn’t ready for that just yet.

  The moment she thought that, Susan shook her head at how silly that sounded. She was stuck in a swamp with two former soldiers and virtually no weapons, up against a fully armed anarchist who had delusions of godhood.

  It didn’t get any shittier than that.

  “Special Agent Wiseman.”

  “Wiseman, it’s Susan. I need your help.”

  “You want to do what?” Cait said, frowning, as they stood some distance away from the FBI agent.

  “I want to go into the compound, join up with Ellers,” Brannon said.

  “Are you nuts? He’ll put a bullet in your skull the moment he sees you.”

  “I’m betting he won’t. I have ten grand of his money. That’s my ticket in.”

  Cait shook her head, her eyes not on him but on the swamp around them.

  “You heard Susan: Ellers knows he was ripped off and thinks I’m dead because of it. If I show up with the missing cash, demanding to know what the hell is going on, he’ll respect that.”

  This time, her eyes did swing in his direction. “Or he’ll just kill you.”

  Before he could reply, her hand came up for silence. Then she pointed toward the compound. He caught the faint sound of someone moving through the brush far in the distance.

  “One tango,” Cait said. “Bless his little butt, he has no clue how not to make a ton of noise.”

  They returned to where Susan sat with the phone against her ear.

  Brannon knelt down in front of her, catching her attention. “We got company.”

  She nodded. “Gotta go, Wiseman. They’ve figured out I escaped.” He said something in return. “I will. Thanks.” Then she shut down the phone and offered it to Brannon.

  “You keep it,” he said.

  “Okay. It’s going to take some time before our reinforcements arrive,” Susan explained.

  “Well, while that’s happening, I’m going inside the compound,” Brannon said. “Reporting for duty, just like a good little soldier.”

  “I told him it was a crap idea,” Cait grumbled.

  “It is, but it just might work,” Susan replied. “Besides, he’s probably going in whether we agree to this or not.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. And they say women are stubborn.”

  Susan turned back toward him. “Ellers is a lot closer to the edge than you realize. His word is law in that camp. If he decides you’re the enemy, or no longer useful, you’re dead.”


  “I know that. I also know that I’d take a few of them with me when I go.”

  Cait averted her eyes, as if somehow seeing his death. He gently touched her arm. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  “Damn you, Bran,” she whispered. “Don’t you see? I lost Jeremy. I can’t lose . . . you, too.”

  In those few words, he realized how much she cared. He walked her a short distance away, gaining them some privacy, then he placed his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms around her.

  “I swear, Caitlyn, I’ll do what I can to stay alive for you. You have to promise to do the same for me.”

  She blinked back tears, then nodded. “Then go, before I totally lose it here and ruin my badass rep.”

  He kissed her, a long, deep kiss. When it ended, he hugged her tight, then stepped away. Cait offered him the rifle.

  “No. You keep it. I’ll get my own inside.”

  He gave Susan a thumbs-up, then walked into the woods. It took only a couple of minutes to put himself along the path of Ellers’s scout. He crouched down and waited until the guy walked right past him, making so much noise they could probably hear him in Atlanta.

  “Stupid-ass woman,” the man complained. “Probably got herself lost. If she had any brains, she’d have headed for the damned boats.”

  A few more steps, then he huffed. “I’m wasting my time out here.”

  “No, you’re not,” Bannon said, rising from his hiding place.

  The guy whirled, his gun leveled at him. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Brannon Hardegree. I’m here to see Commander Ellers.”

  The man stared. “But you’re dead.”

  “Not today. Let’s go show the commander just how good you are at finding people.”

  The guy brightened up at that. “Yeah, let’s do that.” He pointed. “The compound’s this way.”

  Really? I never would have guessed.

  “You and Hardegree, huh?” Susan said softly.

  There was no way to hide it now, not after what the agent had witnessed. “Yeah, it came out of nowhere. Now, it’s like he’s always been part of my life. It spooks the hell out of me, you know?”

  “Haven’t had that feeling yet. Maybe someday.”