An Ill Wind

by Monette Michaels

  Trey nodded at his brother. Through the cabin window, he spotted Keely, Elana, Pia, and Carmela huddled together to the side of the landing pad. The women held onto each other, fear on their faces. Fear for his Fee.

  Damn straight, he’d bring her home, and he might never let her out of his sight again.

  CHAPTER 18

  April 16th, just outside Elk City

  After a short flight from Sanctuary, DJ put the chopper down in a field one mile out of Elk City. Trey, followed by the others, evacuated the helicopter and jogged to the small back road which led into Elk City and ran behind the property on which the clinic was located.

  Ren was on his satphone with Dan Adams, the Idaho County Sheriff, who was bringing his SWAT team. Trey figured they’d beat the SWAT team by precious minutes, and any one of the SSI team could snipe with the best of the people on the sheriff’s team. Dan and his men could do mop up.

  “Trey.” Ren caught up with him. “Slow the fuck down, brother. You can’t go rushing in there like a Viking marauder.”

  “Fuck off.” Trey kept moving at a land-eating jog.

  “Goddammit, Trey.” Ren grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

  Trey turned. His fists up and lips twisted in snarl. “If that were Keely in there…”

  “I’d grow some ice balls and formulate a plan to take the fucker out who’s holding my woman,” Ren said. “And I wouldn’t do anything without backup from my team.”

  The others caught up with them.

  “Ren’s right,” DJ said. “You’d be the first one to tackle your brother to the ground for doing what you’re doing.”

  Fuck, they were right. He couldn’t rush in there like some goddamn rookie.

  “Talk and move.” Trey set off once more. “God, I can’t stand this. After all Fee has been through … how much more can she take?”

  “What she has to.” A woman’s voice floated on the brisk spring breeze.

  “Tara?” DJ called out.

  A tall woman with long dark hair, the cheekbones of a Native American, and wearing a Park Ranger shirt uniform and jeans, slid out of the thicket of trees lining the road. She stood, still as a statue and waited on them to approach.

  “Hey, DJ. Heard the chopper. Figured it was you.” Tara nodded at Tweeter’s wife and holstered the gun she’d held at her side. “Guess I won’t need this right now.” She eyed the group and nodded with satisfaction. “Seems like you brought more than enough firepower to take out the asshole holding Fee hostage.”

  “Sit rep,” Trey barked out as he strode toward her.

  For a split-second, Tara stiffened as if she were coming to attention. Trey concluded she hadn’t been out of the military for too long since she still responded to the authority in his tone.

  Her penetrating, dark-amber gaze roamed over each of the men’s faces before settling on his. “You’d be Trey … Fee’s man.”

  It wasn’t a question. Something primal in him stretched and preened at her instant recognition of that fact.

  “How is she?” Trey hesitated and then asked, “Have they hurt her?”

  “Fee’s fine. She’s stringing the lead asshole along while tending to the one who’s wounded. She’s a strong woman.” Tara tilted her head to the side as if contemplating his reaction to her words. “But you know that, right?”

  “Hell, yeah, she’s a strong woman and she’ll hold, but…” He shook his head. “Everyone has a breaking point.”

  “This isn’t hers.” Tara’s lips twisted slightly. “She has more brains than the one holding her. The other guy is wounded and not dangerous at the moment. Plus, she knows I called for help and that you’ll come for her.”

  Tara turned and walked toward the stand of trees from which she’d appeared. “Follow me. We can sneak up on the clinic this way. It’s a much shorter route than the road.” She walked confidently through the thick undergrowth. “All that is needed to end this is one well-placed sniper shot. Who’s the best shot?”

  Ren laughed. “My wife, but she’s back at Sanctuary. Any of the rest of us could do it, though.”

  Tara looked over her shoulder as she continued to maneuver around trees as if she were on auto-pilot, or maybe the forest talked to her. She looked at home in the wild, a forest deity communing on some psi level with the trees. “You’re Keely’s husband?”

  “Yeah,” Ren replied.

  Tara chuckled. “God, I can just visualize the great Maddox zucchini debate now.”

  “What?” Ren asked.

  “Later,” DJ said. “You had to have been there.”

  The smile on DJ’s face told Trey that Keely had shared one of his brother’s most embarrassing, bone-headed moments. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Trey snickered.

  Ren slapped him on the back of the head.

  Tara walked quickly and quietly, leading the group efficiently through the rugged terrain. When they’d reached the edge of the denser part of the forest, she held up a fist. The group moved in closer to Tara and stopped. The ranger’s gaze wasn’t on the clearing ahead where Trey could see the back of the clinic, but on the ground to her right where a man lay trussed up like a hog for roasting.

  “Fuck me,” Price breathed out in a voice that carried no farther than the group. “How did you lure him all the way over here?”

  “I didn’t.” Tara’s gaze was now on the clinic. Her stance alert as if she were listening for clues on the wind. “Took him out at the clinic and carried him here.”

  Fee’s brother eyed the distance from the clinic to their current location. “That has to be a quarter mile, all up hill.”

  And over uneven ground.

  Price sounded skeptical, but had good reason to be. The bound-and-gagged man was an ugly customer, big and scarred and filthy. Trey could smell the remnants of rancid bear-kill and the man’s own body odor from six feet away. The guy wasn’t a light-weight either, all big-bones and lots of stringy muscle; he had to weigh at least 180 plus pounds. Tara was tall, just shy of six feet, and looked to be in shape, but probably topped out the scales at 140 at the most.

  Carrying her captive all that way, plus tolerating his odor, made her a fucking warrior in his book.

  Tara shrugged a shoulder. “Trained with my brothers who are Missoula smoke jumpers. The National Forest Service wouldn’t let me jump fires, even though I passed the physical. But I can hold my own in strength and endurance.” She turned to eye them all. “With me taking out Stinky, the good news is, there’s only one guy between us and Fee. Bad news is, he’s on meth—and maybe something else mixed in—and is coming down, if old Stinky’s condition is any indication.”

  Stinky? Trey really liked Tara Nightwalker. She reminded him of Keely, DJ, and even Fee. Though his little doc would never admit it. All of them were spirited and courageous in the face of danger.

  “So, Fee’s captor will be agitated and paranoid,” Trey concluded. “Which means we need to take him down with the first shot, or he could do a lot of damage to Fee before we got inside.”

  “Yeah.” Tara turned back and eyed the clinic. “As I said, a sniper shot is the best bet. There’s a potential shot through the north window. Fee’s in a small room off the reception area. The door to the exam room was open the last time I looked. The window gives an unobstructed view into the room. Fee was on the far side of the exam table and saw me. The dude holding her hostage had his back to the window.”

  “There are some issues here,” Trey said. He wanted to move, but knew that they needed to iron out the plan and have backups in case shit happened. “If the exam room door’s closed, no shot. Or if the asshole blocks out Fee, then—

  “We can’t use any ammo that will go through the bastard … we could hit Fee,” Price said.

  “Yeah.” Tara eyed Price’s sniper rifle. “That baby could take out a HumVee a mile away. If you don’t have a shot, Dead-Eye, I can always lure the SOB out just as I did old Stinky, and we could take him outside.”

  “But
he could take Fee with him, use her as a shield,” Price pointed out, a scowl on his face.

  “Which we want to avoid at all costs,” Trey added.

  Tara nodded. “The bastard’s taller than Fee, by about a foot or more. An upper chest or head shot would be doable.”

  “Price,” Ren called out, “you focused enough to take the head shot?”

  Trey wasn’t pissed Ren had singled out Price to take the shot. A former SEAL like Ren, Price had been his team’s sniper and he still trained every day.

  “Fuck, yeah. No one holds my baby sister hostage.” Price stroked his Remington sniper rifle, the same model he’d used as a SEAL.

  “You that good?” Tara asked Price.

  “Yeah, I’m that good.” Price stared at her until she nodded, one small abrupt movement.

  “Fee might not like Price blowing the asshat’s brains all over her,” DJ pointed out. “Doctors have this thing about doing no harm.”

  “She’ll deal,” Tara said. “If her captor wasn’t high on drugs, he’d notice how pissed off Fee is.”

  “Okay, so,” Ren summed up the plan, “we’ll surround the clinic. Price will get in place and take his shot.—And, please, try not to kill him. Dan hates the paperwork SSI causes him. Then we’ll move in.”

  “Let’s do it.” Price looked toward Tara. “You lead. Show me where you want me to set up.”

  Tara nodded. “Follow me.”

  The two of them moved off to circle round to the north window Tara had mentioned.

  “I’m first in,” Trey said.

  No one argued with him.

  Trey led the rest of the group out of the woods and straight toward the back of the building. DJ and Tweeter took up a post by the back door and would take the guy down if he tried to escape that way. He and Ren moved around to the south side where they’d be in position to move in after Price took his shot.

  Ren was on his satphone, advising Dan to keep his people and the park rangers back, that the situation was under control. They didn’t need anyone stumbling onto the scene and fucking things up.

  ****

  Fee had done all she could for Zeke. He was still unconscious, but his vitals were as good as could be expected considering he was coming off meth and whatever else the idiots had mixed with it. She’d seen a lot of speedballing in Detroit and New Mexico. Depending on what was available, the extra drug was probably heroin or fentanyl. She’d place her bet on fentanyl.

  Fussing over Zeke’s wound, she stalled for as long as she could. Where was the rescue team? How long had it been since Tara had signaled help was on the way?

  Fee glanced at the clock. A half hour at least, but it seemed longer.

  “Why is Zeke still sleeping?” Bo asked for what had to be the tenth time. He sounded like a seven-year-old demanding if they’d reached their destination yet.

  “He’s not sleeping. He’s in shock. I explained that.” Fee tried to keep her exasperation out of her voice, but must not have done a good enough job since Bo back-handed her for the second time since the ordeal had begun. At least, he hadn’t used the hand with the gun.

  Holding a hand over her abused cheek, she licked her bleeding lip where she’d bit it and blinked away the tears caused by the blow. Damn, the pain still reverberated over her face and down onto her neck.

  “Listen … Bo…” Her voice wobbled a bit. “H-hitting m-me isn’t going to change my answer or bring Zeke around any faster. It is what it is. He’ll rouse when his body’s ready. That could be in two minutes or two hours or two days.”

  Bo snarled. “Or you could give him something. We need to get moving. We’ll take your car.” He looked over his shoulder toward the reception area. “I need to find Abe.”

  Abe was out of the picture, thanks to Tara who was scarily effective.

  “You go then.” She firmed her mouth and winced at the pain. “I can’t give your brother anything to bring him around. I don’t know all the drugs that could be in his bloodstream. Any amphetamine I might give him could push him into cardiac arrest.” She eyed Bo. “You do understand—with the drugs you guys use you’re flirting with a heart attack each time you shoot or sniff that shit into your body?”

  “You don’t know nothing. Been taking the shit for years and I ain’t dead yet,” Bo sneered. “I ain’t leaving my brother.”

  “My medical degree says I do know,” she said, quietly. “I’ve seen more DOAs in my ER because of drugs than any other causes. Leave him with me. I’ll make sure he gets to Grangeville and to the hospital.”

  Zeke needed a hospital. Unfortunately, Zeke was in no mental state to understand that proposition. Bo’s response was another snort of derision.

  Bo wasn’t in good shape, either. His body moved constantly. When he wasn’t jiggling, he was tapping his feet or snapping the fingers on his free hand or swaying from side to side. His dilated gaze bounced wildly around the room, alighting on everything, but seeing nothing.

  What worried her the most as Bo was coming down was the evil, sadistic light in his eyes. The combo of drugs she suspected he used often increased the user’s libido. If he attacked her, she’d be forced to stab him with the scalpel she’d secreted under Zeke’s shoulder. The thought of fighting him, stabbing him, turned her stomach, but she couldn’t let him rape her. She’d kill him to protect herself.

  Bo began to pace the short width of the exam room. As he did so, he mumbled under his breath. Foul things. Crazy things. He was decompensating quickly now. But if she gave him something to make him high again, to even him out, he could be even more dangerous to her.

  Movement at the window in the reception area caught her eye. Tara popped up and signaled “okay” with her fingers and thumb.

  Relieved, Fee tilted her head in acknowledgment. Something would happen soon. But what? They wouldn’t rush the clinic since Tara would’ve told the rescuers Bo was armed. A sniper. They would take him down through the window.

  She found she was okay with that. But she sure didn’t want to be a secondary casualty. She could almost feel the cross-hairs on her and Bo at that very moment.

  Bo still paced, a moving target with no rhyme nor reason to his movement. There was no way to anticipate which way he’d move next, or if he’d stop directly in line with her.

  You have to make him stop. Line him up with the window, dummy. And you need to be somewhere else.

  How?

  Then Zeke moaned, and Bo came to point like a hound on a scent. He fixed his berserk gaze on his brother.

  “Bo, talk to him,” Fee urged. “Reassure him he’s okay and that you’re here. A familiar voice helps rouse patients.”

  Bo moved to lean over his brother. “Zeke. Wake up, brother. We gotta go.”

  Fee moved away, toward the sink at the side of the room, putting a wall of cabinets between her and danger.

  The shot came so fast, she’d barely taken a breath after she’d stepped away.

  Shot in the upper back, Bo toppled onto his brother. He screamed and raised his arm, the one holding the gun. “Bitch!” His gaze darted about, wild with fear and pain.

  “Down, Fee!” Trey’s roar echoed off the walls of the empty reception area.

  Fee dropped to the floor and rolled under the exam table, figuring Bo wouldn’t shoot through his brother’s body.

  But she didn’t have to worry.

  Trey pounded into the room, grabbed Bo’s wrist on the hand holding the gun, and twisted. She winced as she heard Bo’s bones break and the man roared his anguish. The gun fell inches from her face.

  She’d have one more patient—maybe two, if Tara hadn’t killed Abe.

  More feet pounded into the clinic, vibrating the floor like a mini-earthquake. Then Trey was there, pulling her out from under the table. He picked her up and cradled her against his chest.

  “Fuck, fuck, fucking hell … I was so fucking scared, baby.” He interspersed his cursing with kisses over her face and against her throat as he held her as if he’d never let h
er go.

  Tears of relief and joy slipped from Fee’s eyes as she buried her nose against his throat. He smelled like pine trees and healthy male sweat. He smelled like home and safety.

  “I wasn’t worried,” she whispered against his skin. He shuddered and held her even more tightly. “Because I knew you’d come for me.”

  Trey looked down at her and frowned. “I could kill him for hurting you.” He brushed a feather-light kiss over her bruised cheek and cut lip. He rubbed his jaw over the top of her head. “I am so sorry he got to you, baby. You had to be so scared.”

  Fee wouldn’t deny being scared, because he’d know it was a lie. She was shaking like an aspen in his arms even now, but the ordeal was over and she refused to dwell. If she had nightmares later, she wouldn’t be alone, because Trey would be there to hold her.

  So she petted his chest, soothing him since he seemed to be even more upset than she was. “I’m fine now. I’m okay.”

  “Fee!” Price ran into the room, a rifle in one hand. Tara followed on his heels.

  Her brother had taken the shot.

  “I’m fine, Price. Damn good shot, big brother.” Fee smiled at him and then looked at Tara. “Thanks, Tara. For everything.” She looked up at Trey, whose loving gaze seared away any lingering fear in her and warmed her heart and other parts of her body. “I think you can put me down now. I have patients to treat.”

  “See?” Tara said. “Guts and brains. Makes me proud to be a woman. However, you don’t need to treat these assholes. Sheriff Adams called in Life Line out of Grangeville.”

  “I know I don’t.” Fee sent Tara a smile. “But I’m going to take care of them until my relief gets here.”

  “I’m so damn proud of you, little doc.” Trey set her down. “I’ll be right here as you patch them up. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a long while.”

  Fee rubbed her cheek over his chest. “I can live with that.”

  “You can live with me,” he muttered against her hair. She heard tension in his voice.

  “Okay.” Trey wanted her with him, and dammit, she wanted to be there. Yeah, she still had qualms about being woman enough for him, but she didn’t doubt he cared for her and would be patient with her.