by Misty Evans
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
He glanced at her, slinging the stethoscope around his neck. “Let’s get a bandage on his leg.”
“Time’s up,” Beatrice announced. “We need to move.”
“That wasn’t three minutes,” Jax yelled.
“Rory has informed me that we’re about to have company,” she replied. “They’re coming in hot.”
“Who?” Hunter and Jax asked at the same time.
“Their identities have not been ascertained yet. Therefore, I advise we depart without further delay.”
No worry in her voice, no concern. Beatrice was calm under the most extreme situations and something about that calmed Ruby as well.
Ruby said to Jax. “I’ll help you move him.”
“Jax and I will move him,” Hunter informed her. “You grab the bag.”
They worked together, the three of them, with Chief Rolands holding the IV. Hunter grabbed a blanket from the back of the SUV and he and Jax lifted Elliot and placed him on it.
Zeb folded down the second and third row seats and the two men easily carried Elliot to the vehicle and slid him into the makeshift hospital. Elliot grunted a couple of times from the treatment, but he maintained consciousness.
Ruby made sure they left nothing behind—no bandage papers, no plastic bags from the syringes. She even took a quick moment to fluff the crumpled grass where they had walked. Unfortunately there wasn’t anything to be done about the blood on the road and under the spot where Elliot had lain.
Zeb took over holding the IV bag, while Hunter hopped into the driver’s seat. Beatrice instructed Chief Rolands to take off without the sirens, then she gave him the coordinates to the clinic.
Whoever was approaching was no friend, Ruby was sure of that. Were they after Elliot? Or was it a cleanup team to take out all of them? The CIA? Homeland?
Between her, Hunter, and Jax, she wasn’t worried about a confrontation. Hell, even Beatrice probably knew a thing or two about guns and self-defense. But with Beatrice being pregnant and Elliot in critical condition, a stand-off with a possible wet job team was a losing battle from the get-go.
The gravel road was bumpy as hell as they flew east. The sun sank behind them, streaking the sky with amber. As Zeb balanced the IV near Elliot’s head, Jax and Ruby sandwiched their patient between them and went to work re-bandaging the gunshot wound.
There was still so much blood, Ruby wasn’t sure exactly where it was all coming from. She used her phone’s flashlight to illuminate the area and lifted Elliot’s leg when Jax instructed her to so he could wrap the thigh with gauze.
Rolands took them around a bend in the road and past an abandoned farmhouse. In the distance, shadows grew as a wooded area came into view.
No one was riding with the chief, and while Ruby heard the soft chatter of radio communications coming from the front where Hunter and Beatrice were monitoring police channels, she had a sudden spurt of uncertainty.
“You trust Chief Rolands?” Ruby called to Beatrice as he took them on another unpaved road leading toward some woods.
“Hey,” Zeb complained. “That’s my brother.”
“Half-brother,” Ruby reminded him. “Sorry, but I can’t take chances.”
“She doesn’t trust anyone,” Jax added.
Beatrice glanced back. “Rolands is our best chance at getting us where we need to go.”
Not a definite yes or no. Ruby suspected Beatrice didn’t fully trust many people either.
But she sure believed in Jax.
That makes two of us.
A fresh bump sent all of them bouncing. Elliot cried out and Jax swore. Elliot’s hand grabbed onto Ruby’s and he mumbled something.
She leaned forward, desperate to hear what he was saying and reassure him at the same time. “We’re headed for a clinic where they can remove the bullet, El. Just hang in there.”
“N-n-n…”
His face strained, his jaw clenched. The hand holding hers loosened.
While she was desperate for answers, she was just as desperate to keep him alive. “Don’t talk. Save your energy. Once you’re patched up, you can tell me everything.”
Another curve. Ruby couldn’t see anything through the windshield except trees, trees, and more trees. They seemed to be going downhill—she saw the flash of a creek bed to her left—but the overgrowth was blocking out the last of the sun’s rays.
Elliot worked his mouth again. “N-n-night…”
Night? “Yes, it’s almost night. Don’t worry about what time it is. Focus on conserving your energy. We’re taking care of you.”
Jax finished securing the bandage. In the glow of the flashlight beam, he sent her a look that sent a chill down her spine. “Let him speak. It may be his last chance to tell us what we need.”
Last chance.
Those words. Heartless, cruel…but realistic. Jax was doing everything in his power to save Elliot’s life, yet he knew his chances of survival were slim.
“…coming,” Elliot murmured.
“Who’s coming, El?”
The man’s throat worked. His lips parted, closed, parted again. A sigh escaped them, and then he looked her right in the eye. His sunken sockets looked bruised, terrified. “Ghost. Night…shade,” he whispered.
“Nightshade?” she echoed. “What are you talking about?”
Before Elliot could say anything else, bullets riddled the back end of the SUV.
“GET DOWN!” JAX shouted, pushing Ruby to the floor between the flat seats and covering her with his body.
Bullets pinged off the back window, Jax sending up a silent thank you to the heavens—as well as Emit—for the custom-designed tank of an SUV they were in that included bulletproof glass.
The road they were on was narrow and rocky. As Hunter kicked the vehicle into high gear, he nearly ran into Rolands’ squad car ahead of them. Since the SFI Escalade was equipped with a push bar, Rolands might find himself going for a joy ride any minute.
“Holy fucking spitballs,” Jax swore out loud as Ruby clung to him with one hand and pulled out a Glock from her waistband with the other. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“I took the backup from your medical bag,” she said. “You already have one and mine was lost in the tornado.”
He’d been so focused on Hayden, he hadn’t seen her steal his weapon. She was good at that—stealing things. Her slight of hand was better than anyone he’d ever seen.
Might be why she’d stolen his heart somewhere along the line when he wasn’t paying attention.
Hunter killed the running lights and they nearly missed a Y intersection in the road. Rolands went right, his taillights a red bulls-eye. Hunter veered left.
Either Ruby’s intuition about Zeb’s half-brother had been accurate, or Hunter’s superhuman Spidey senses had told him something.
The sun was long gone, a sliver of moonlight rising through the trees here and there. Ruby’s phone had slid into a crevice near Jax’s foot. He grabbed for it, shut down the flashlight. Time to become one with the night.
Disappearing in these woods under normal circumstances would be a piece of cake for him and Hunter, both trained in the art of evasion. For the others, not so much. They had to stay in the SUV, complete with a wounded man and a very pregnant woman. Vehicles were much easier to track, especially when the truck hunting them had spotlights on the top that made the lights at a football stadium look like miniature flashlights. Even through the tinted windows of the Escalade, those lights about blinded him.
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
He’d had about all he could take in one day. Pushing Ruby farther down, Jax called to Beatrice. “Return fire?” he half-asked, half-insisted.
Hunter had killed the dashboard lights along with the rest of them. Even so, Jax could see the pale glow of Beatrice’s white-blond hair. “Negative. Hold your fire.”
Dammit. Jax clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. He couldn’t properly
take care of his patient, protect Ruby, or keep the bad guys at bay hunkered down like this. He badly wanted to jump out and take each and every one of the sleezeballs in the truck behind them out, one by one. Punch their lights out and break their necks.
That was the rage inside you talking, buddy. That rage that had brewed ever since his friend had come back disabled. Ever since his parents had kicked him out.
It was always there, burning, needy, addicting. He’d tried counseling, tried a hundred different tools to manage it. Like dried out tinder, all it needed was a single spark to ignite, erupting into a fire of epic proportions that devastated everything and everyone in its path.
Including him.
Which had made him an effective soldier. He’d learned to channel his hurt and anger into something positive the only way he knew how.
He wasn’t that warrior anymore. He needed to get back out into the field where he could do battle and let the rage demon have its head.
If only Beatrice wasn’t determined to make him bring that demon to heel first. She insisted he had to manage his anger before she would allow him to manage a team of SFI operatives.
A light touch on his arm brought him back from the edge. Ruby raised up, putting her face close to his. “I’m sorry,” she murmured in his ear. “This is all my fault.”
He touched her head, letting his fingers slide over her soft hair until he could cup the back of her skull. The fire inside him cooled, still there, but morphing into the desire to keep her safe, keep Beatrice safe.
Save the fucking day.
The Escalade swerved, Hunter going off-road. The vehicle bounced, crashing through brush and small trees, limbs whacking against the sides and windows as the push bar did its job, mowing down a path.
Without warning, Jax’s stomach dropped.
And ah, shit. He knew that feeling.
He almost let out a whoop, the sensation one he adored.
Airborne. The fucking truck had left the ground and was sailing through the air.
Ruby let out a quiet yelp and clutched his arm tighter, not seeming to enjoy the drop of her stomach as much as he did. Jax clasped the back of her head tighter and drew her to him. He felt the SUV stall out under him, felt the pull of gravity bringing them back down.
They dropped like a ton of bricks, the Escalade’s suspension taking them on a whiplash of a ride and knocking Jax’s head into the roof. Outside the bulletproof doors, Jax heard the splash of water.
The creek. They were driving down the creek bed.
Good thing the Escalade was kitted out with off-road tires as well as everything else.
“Sorry, boss,” Hunter said to Beatrice.
“I’m fine. Keep going,” she replied.
Unbelievably, Zeb was humming under his breath somewhere off to Jax’s left. Jax couldn’t see the man, but he sounded every bit as unconcerned about their circumstances as Beatrice.
What is wrong with these people?
The thought, combined with the adrenaline in his system, made Jax laugh.
What about Elliot?
He couldn’t see his patient, but the man was no longer making grunts or speaking in whispers. Jax felt for his pulse and found it. Light and thready, but there.
Alive.
Goddamn bastard. If nothing else, Jax wanted to save him so he could strangle him.
Nightshade. What did that mean?
The Escalade went down an incline, pulled a tight left, and suddenly, Hunter cut the engine.
“Positions?” Jax called to Beatrice, releasing his grip on Ruby.
“Yes,” she said, as clear and concise as always.
He yanked out his weapon, spun away from Ruby and Elliot and scooted his ass over to peer out the back window. Ruby took up a position near the side window opposite Zeb. As Hunter climbed out of the truck, Jax saw the glint of moonlight on an M6 in the man’s hands.
The thudthudthud of Hunter’s boots on the top of the truck echoed in the silence as their super soldier went into action. Hunter had extrasensory skills that came in handy in these kinds of situations. No night vision goggles needed; he could see just fine in the dark, like some bloody nocturnal animal.
Made Jax a little jealous.
It also made him itch to join his friend and fellow SFI operative. “I’m going out,” he told Beatrice. “Ruby, take the wheel. Anything happens to me or Hunter, drive like hell and get everyone out of here.”
Ruby touched his shoulder. “Are you sure you should—?”
Beatrice interrupted her. “That isn’t necessary, Jaxon.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he growled. “I love you, boss, but this is my area of expertise, so stay in the car and stay quiet. Hunter and I will take care of these guys.”
“Don’t kill them,” Ruby called softly. “I want to interrogate them. We need to know who they’re working for.”
Don’t kill them. Right. “No guarantees, babe. They’re out for blood. So am I.”
Without another word, he slipped out into the night.
The sounds of insects met his ears. He sensed Hunter’s presence on the roof, knew the man was watching for the men hunting them.
“Anything?” he murmured.
“Maybe,” Hunter murmured back.
Well, wasn’t that informative.
Jax listened, straining to hear the sounds of an approaching vehicle. In the distance, he thought he heard a siren. Rolands?
Maybe the chief had pulled a U-ey and was headed their way. He wouldn’t go off-roading in the cop car though.
If he caught up to and tried to apprehend the men in the truck, he was dead.
Shit. They might have unintentionally lured Rolands into a fight he couldn’t win.
But there was nothing he could do about it now.
“Three o’clock, a hundred yards,” Hunter said. “Vehicle stopped.”
Their pursuers weren’t interested in diving off into the creek.
Taking this direction had been a good call on Hunter’s part. “They coming on foot?”
“Two confirmed. The others are staying with the vehicle.”
Interesting. “You want the bipeds or the sissies in the truck?”
Hunter jumped off the roof of the SUV, landing next to Jax’s feet. “Tough choice.”
“I’m feeling the urge to go fisticuffs myself.”
“I could blow up the truck,” Hunter mused.
“Ruby wants one of them alive to interrogate.”
“They won’t let us take them alive. Deadly force will be necessary.”
“Gee, that’s too bad. How do you know, man?”
“It’s a mercenary squad. I’ve dealt with this type of problem before.”
Jax didn’t question him further. “I’ll wait for my guys at the bottom of the steep hill we just sailed over, take them out one at a time.”
“We have a plan.”
The rising moon peeked through the trees, giving him a modest amount of shadowy light. He saw Hunter raise a fist and Jax bumped it with his own. “We have a plan, my brother.”
“Take this,” Hunter said.
A small set of night vision goggles. So maybe the super soldier still needed some help with his long-distance vision at night. Jax accepted them and started forward into the dense woods.
He hated to leave his patient and Ruby, not to mention Beatrice, but if he and Hunter didn’t get rid of their trackers, no one was getting out of this alive.
I’m sorry. Ruby’s words echoed in his skull. Somewhere ahead of him, Hunter was already climbing the embankment, avoiding the two men on foot. Jax heard the sounds of footsteps in the leaves, the snapping of twigs. Not Hunter’s, oh no. The mercenary squad needed to brush up on their stealth skills.
Shaking Ruby’s voice out of his mind, he centered himself and went into predator mode near the far edge of the creek.
Come to Jaxon, boys.
Waiting was the most challenging of all survival skills. Patience was not his forte. Endless tr
aining had honed his abilities, though, so as long as he didn’t let his brain take over, he could stay unmoving for hours.
Tonight, he wouldn’t need to. Off to his right, he heard his first victim. The second wasn’t far behind. A two-for-one.
My favorite.
The goggles pinpointed the movements of his prey. He might not be as quiet as Hunter, but he was still a SEAL in his blood, in the very marrow of his bones.
As Bad Guy One moved into position, Jax let the rage burning inside him have its head.
The short, beefy fellow didn’t know what hit him as Jax reached out from behind a tree and hooked the guy’s neck with his arm. A sharp snap to the left and the guy went down without so much as a squeak. Neck broken.
Sorry, Ruby.
The second man provided more of a fight. Dark-skinned like his partner and wearing dark fatigues, he blended into the night. He was Jax’s size and almost as tough, but he wasn’t carrying a gun.
He had a knife, and the bastard apparently knew how to use it.
Back and forth the blade cut through the air, making little noises with the speed at which the man sliced it. At one point, as Jax danced away, it ripped through his already destroyed shirt. Jax considered shooting him but what fun would that be?
A chance trip on a tree root sent the man off balance and gave Jax the opportunity to grab his knife-wielding wrist. A hard slam of the man’s hand into the massive tree trunk, and the knife fell to the ground.
Jax’s rage was hot and powerful. As he gave into it, it cleared the constant nagging voice in his head. Cleared the endless chatter. Giving into his rage was the only way he’d ever found to access that kind of peace. It blotted out his emotions. Blotted out the endless loop of negative messages his subconscious fed him day and night.
Before he knew it, he’d taken Bad Guy Two to the ground. They wrestled for several long minutes, but only because Jax toyed with him. If he was going to interrogate the man, he had to hurt him first to soften him up.
Jax finally broke one of the man’s arms and pinned him to the ground. The guy didn’t cry out, only half-chuckled.
“Who are you?” Jax asked. “Who are you working for?”