The Legend

by Donna Grant

  While Mia helped Kate with the bags of food, Orrin asked, “What is she doing here?”

  “She wanted to help,” Cullen explained.

  Yuri shook his head, a frown upon his brow. “She should have returned home.”

  “Yes,” Orrin agreed. “She doesn’t belong in this war.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Kate stated. Her gray eyes swung to Yuri. “Someone decided to pull me into this. So, now I’m here. Get used to it.”

  Cullen quite liked Kate. He also saw the way Orrin watched her. There was something between the two of them that, if allowed to grow, could be something significant.

  “Doc, you don’t want to be here,” Orrin said as he took a few steps toward her.

  She shoved her shoulder-length, red hair out of her face and smiled. “It wasn’t by luck that I stumbled upon Cullen and Mia. I was meant to help you.”

  “And your son?” Orrin asked.

  A sad look crossed Kate’s face. “With his father.”

  “I am afraid not even that will keep him safe if the Saints want him,” Yuri said.

  Mia said, “None of us are safe. Not in this room, not out on the street, not in our own homes. It’s going to be people like us—those who stand up and fight—who will win.”

  “I know what I’m risking,” Kate said to Orrin, their gazes locked. “Your son gave me plenty of opportunities to change my mind. Now, let me look at your wounds.”

  His father followed her to a far corner where she pointed to a chair and told him to remove his shirt. Cullen watched it all with interest. Especially the way Kate kept touching Orrin.

  “She cares for him,” Mia whispered as she walked up.

  Cullen had to agree. “And I think Dad might feel an attraction himself.”

  “It’s about time. He’s been alone for too long.”

  Cullen’s gaze moved to Yuri, who also watched the couple. He made his way to the Russian. “Did you know my mother?”

  “Da. I met her once. A beautiful woman,” Yuri said, turning his attention to Cullen.

  Cullen crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you know of her murder?”

  “Nothing more than you or your father.”

  “But you have theories,” Mia said as she joined them.

  Yuri shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps.”

  Cullen lifted a brow and said, “I’d like to hear them.”

  “Please,” Mia added.

  Yuri glanced at Orrin. “I think the Saints instigated the entire thing.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Who knows,” Yuri said. “Orrin always followed orders, but he would also do everything he could to save his men. That did not always sit well with others.”

  There was a deep furrow on Mia’s brow. “So Orrin could’ve saved someone who was supposed to die?”

  “It could be anything,” Cullen said.

  Yuri said, “You might never know the cause.”

  “Or the killer.”

  A fierce look filled Mia’s black gaze. “I refuse to believe that.”

  “One fight at a time,” Yuri cautioned.

  Cullen looked out the window at Hewett’s office. “Or two birds with one stone.”

  * * *

  Mitch hung up the phone. There were times he liked that his offices weren’t at the Department of Defense because it kept him out of sight of others. Then there were times when it would be easier if he were at the DOD.

  He walked out of his office to look at the people working for him. Every available piece of technology was set to looking for Orrin Loughman and Yuri Markovic, but so far, there had been nothing.

  They had gotten a glimpse of Cullen Loughman before losing him again, and they had gleaned nothing on the eldest son, Wyatt. Which made everyone in the Saints organization more than uneasy.

  Results were wanted immediately. What none of them realized was that the US government had trained these men to blend in, to stay hidden when needed.

  No matter what that shitbag Andrew Smith said, Mitch wouldn’t stop searching until he saw Orrin’s dead body with his own eyes.

  “We have all the technology in the world at our disposal, people,” he said from the doorway of his office. “And none of you can find the Loughmans?”

  “Owen hasn’t left the ranch,” one of the team said.

  Mitch laughed wryly. “That’s not new news since he hasn’t left in days. I need Cullen, Wyatt, and Orrin Loughman. And Yuri Markovic. We should be able to find a fucking Russian on our soil!”

  His attention was diverted to the door to his left as it opened. As soon as he saw Schenck, he let his distaste show. The tall, skinny Airman was out of uniform as he saw Mitch and smiled smugly before making his way over.

  “What do you want?” Mitch demanded.

  Schenck tsked. “You should be nicer to me.”

  “Because you’re a killer? Guess what, asshole, we all are.”

  Schenck crossed his arms over his chest. “I killed a general. Can you say the same?”

  For some reason, someone in the Saints’ higher tier had taken a liking to Schenck. For the life of him, Mitch couldn’t figure out why. Schenck was a singularly dislikable fellow, who rubbed everyone raw.

  “Obviously, you came for something. Spit it out,” Mitch demanded.

  “They’re sending me after Mia Carter.”

  Mitch knew that the Saints taking such a drastic approach meant they were tired of not getting results from him. But he wasn’t worried. He knew exactly what type of people he searched for, and they were going to be almost impossible to find. He’d done this kind of work his entire life.

  Schenck had only begun recently. The odds of him succeeding were slim. And he was going to enjoy the little shit failing.

  “Good luck with that,” Mitch said.

  Schenck laughed. “You don’t think I can find her. Well, let me tell you that she liked me. She went out of her way to talk to me.”

  “Good for you.” God, how he hated the fucker.

  “She believes I was close to General Davis,” Schenck continued. “As soon as she sees me, she’ll want to comfort me for the loss.”

  It was all Mitch could do not to roll his eyes. “Are you just going to stand out in the open and wait for her to find you?”

  “Of course, not. She’s not far.”

  “Do you have any idea how many people are in this city alone?”

  Schenck smiled as he turned his head to him. “Worried?”

  “Not in the least. Even if Mia sees you, she won’t go to you.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  Mitch faced the arrogant jackass. “If you see her, watch your back. They’ll have figured out someone in Davis’s office betrayed him. Cullen will sooner slit your throat than take the chance that you’re a spy.”

  “Guess only time will tell which of us is the winner. Oh,” Schenck said, holding up a finger. “I almost forgot. I was sent to give you the news. Jankovic has been killed.”

  Mitch balled his hands into fists he was so angry. “You’re just now telling me this?”

  Schenck’s smile grew. “The most interesting part is who killed him. Orrin Loughman.”

  “Impossible,” he stated.

  Schenck shook his head. “Smith saw it.”

  The realization that Orrin had taken the key to their greatest weapon was dimmed by the fact that Orrin had found one of their secret locations.

  How? The question ran through Mitch’s head with the speed of a bullet train, but there was no answer.

  “They aren’t pleased.”

  Schenck’s words sounded as if they came through a tunnel. Mitch’s heart thumped irregularly against his ribs. If Orrin could find a secret location, he could find him.

  And if that ever happened, Mitch knew his life was over. Orrin was smart. He’d have figured out who betrayed him.

  Mitch ran a hand down his face and turned away from Schenck. Orrin was in the area. Was he even now waiting for Mitch to make a mi
stake or show himself?

  “You really should step up your game,” Scheck said before he walked away.

  Mitch noticed that his team was staring at him. He motioned for them to get back to work as he walked into his office. Once seated at his desk, he looked at the phone. None of his calls or emails to Callie had been answered.

  He might as well write her off. No doubt she suspected him as well. There would be no help from that corner. He’d have to kill Orrin.

  And if he couldn’t do that, then he’d have to convince Orrin that he hadn’t betrayed him.

  Mitch believed in everything the Saints were doing. He’d been a part of the organization since he was in college. Over the last twenty years, the Saints had more than doubled in size and now invaded every government in the world, no matter how big or small the country was.

  He feared the Saints. Always had.

  But he knew what Orrin Loughman could do, and he was prepared to give up a name in order to live. There was one name Orrin would be most interested in—and it would definitely work to keep Mitch alive.

  If Orrin believed him. And if he got a chance to talk to Orrin. Those were the two problems Mitch could foresee.

  He pulled open his bottom right drawer. He paused, looking through the open blinds to the team beyond, and took out the gun. Mitch rubbed his thumb over the metal of the weapon.

  There was much he was prepared to do for his country. Even more for the Saints. But when it came to facing Orrin, Mitch knew he was outmatched.

  He put the holster on and slid the gun inside. Then he grabbed his coat. Mitch didn’t say a word to his team as he walked out of the room and then left the building. He paused out on the street and looked up at the surrounding buildings.

  “I’m here, Orrin,” he said. “Come and get me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Wyatt slowly chewed a piece of jerky as he stared into the night. Dawn was less than an hour away. The Saints were out there, watching. None had made a move toward the house or barns yet.

  It was a waiting game. Each side was seeing who would make the first move. And it wouldn’t be Wyatt’s side.

  The lights were off inside the house with the porch lamp the only one remaining on. Natalie was upstairs in the house with a rifle.

  Owen was inside the barn where he’d placed weapons in various places throughout the structure in case he needed them.

  Maks had taken the left side of the property. Wyatt had no idea exactly where the CIA agent was, but he had no doubt Maks would be there to help.

  Wyatt had chosen the dense underbrush on the right side of the barn and house. He’d lain on his stomach for hours, waiting for the Saints. The slightest movement made his wound pull, but the pain wouldn’t stop him.

  He wondered how Callie was faring. It had been difficult not to go see her, but he hadn’t wanted to give up his location. So far, the Saints had no idea where any of them were. That was to their benefit, and with the numbers on the Saints’ side, Wyatt knew they needed every advantage they could get.

  The stillness of the early morning hours was deceptive. The horses were staring in the direction of the Saints, their tails swishing. Even the cattle that were in one of the front pastures were restless as they gathered together.

  Tension kept building. The birds were silent. The wind was still.

  Wyatt looked through his scope. His rifle was trained on a Saint who thought he was hidden among the trees. Wyatt could take him out now, and he knew Owen and Maks had their sights on someone as well.

  But each waited.

  Let the Saints think they had the element of surprise. Let them believe that all of them were in the comfort of their beds. Let the Saints assume all of that and more.

  Wyatt tossed away the remaining piece of jerky when he saw three of the Saints walk from their hiding spot. They were bent low, rifles up. They had gone about twenty feet before they suddenly stopped and looked over their shoulder to the others. Then the three turned and hurried back to cover.

  Concerned, Wyatt looked through his scope. All he could see was the back of a Saint. The group wasn’t moving, so they hadn’t decided on another approach point.

  That meant something else made them retreat.

  Or someone.

  Wyatt looked to the barn. A churning started in his gut. The troubles of Austin had most likely found their way north. If Ahmadi’s men and the Reeds joined up with the Saints, then they were in big trouble.

  There was a soft hiss through the COM in Wyatt’s ear before Maks’s voice said, “We have a problem.”

  “What do you see?” Owen whispered.

  “They’re retreating,” Wyatt said as he saw the Saints move off.

  Natalie then asked, “Why is that a problem?”

  “Reinforcements,” the three men said in unison.

  And Wyatt knew just who was coming. He waited until the last of them were gone, and the horses went back to grazing. Then he jumped up and walked to the barn. He glanced upward to see the pink and yellow streaks of the sunrise in the partially cloudy sky.

  He waited with Owen at the barn entrance for Maks. Wyatt didn’t want to tell Callie about her family, but there would be no use keeping it a secret.

  Callie needed to rest, not be anxious about her kin. Because Wyatt wasn’t going let them anywhere near her. Ever. He’d told them what he would do if they ever bothered her again. Now, he would show them.

  And Ahmadi. Those men would kill everything—man or beast.

  He blinked and looked over to find Owen silently regarding him. Wyatt spotted Maks jump the fence and cross the yard toward the barn.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that look.”

  Wyatt frowned and looked at his brother. “What look?”

  “That one,” Owen said with a nod of his head. “The one that gives the impression you’re detached from a situation when really it’s the opposite.”

  Maks halted before them and looked from Wyatt to Owen and back again. “You know why the Saints left.”

  It wasn’t a question. Wyatt nodded and took out his ear COM. The two men did the same. Then he said, “I thought we’d have a day or two before the troubles in Austin found us.”

  “Ahmadi,” Maks said.

  Owen’s eyes went hard. “And the Reeds.”

  Wyatt nodded. “We’ll soon be fighting all three groups.”

  “We’re going to need more guns,” Owen said.

  Maks slipped the strap of his rifle over his arm. “That means trusting others.”

  “I’m not sure we can,” Wyatt pointed out.

  Owen ran a hand over his jaw. “Four against twenty was one thing. Four against forty, fifty, or sixty, is another.”

  “I say we call Orrin and Yuri,” Maks said. “They’re already aware of your injury and that the Saints were coming to attack.”

  Wyatt glared at him. “You called Orrin?”

  “I called Yuri. Orrin just happens to be with him,” Maks pointed out.

  Wyatt met Owen’s dark eyes. “What do you want to do?”

  “We tell the girls and get their opinion,” Owen said. “This involves them. Especially Callie.”

  Wyatt moved his eyes to the entrance of the base as Owen walked off to get Natalie.

  “You could always give up the life,” Maks said. “Stay here herding cattle or whatever it is you do on a ranch.”

  The idea took root in Wyatt, but it was swiftly killed. “I’m not suited to ranch life anymore.”

  “It was just a suggestion.”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt walked to the hidden button that would slide back the portion of the floor that kept the stairs down to the base hidden, but he didn’t touch it.

  Maks raised a brow. “Do you want me to push the button?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Do you? Because you look more twisted up than earlier.”

  Wyatt met Maks’s blue eyes. “I swore to Callie’s family that I would kill them if they didn’t
leave her alone.”

  “Seems like they didn’t take your threat seriously.”

  “They did until the Saints backed them.”

  Maks nodded at that. “And you’re having a problem putting an end to these evil bastards why?”

  “Blood is blood. They’re her kin.”

  “Have they ever hurt her?”

  Wyatt thought back to finding her bloodied and unconscious. “They beat her.”

  “Then think of how she looked after they hit her when you see them.”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  Maks smiled. “Family or not, no one should be treated like that.”

  “No.”

  “You found her, didn’t you?”

  Wyatt frowned at him. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because whenever the Reeds are mentioned, there is anger in Owen’s eyes, but when you talk about them, there is murder in yours.”

  Wyatt hit the button, cutting off anything else Maks might say. As if knowing what he was about to do, Maks simply smiled and followed Wyatt down the steps.

  Maks went to the armory while Wyatt made his way to the sleeping quarters. When he looked inside, Callie was sleeping. He was just about to close the door and let her rest more, but Natalie and Owen came down to the base, talking loudly enough that it woke her.

  Her gaze met his. How he loved the color of her eyes. He’d told her that once after their first kiss, and her smile had lit up her face.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Owen brushed past Wyatt. “Oh, good. You’re awake. We need to talk.”

  Wyatt shifted to the side so that Natalie could enter. He was going to remain in the doorway until Maks walked up and lifted a brow. Wyatt then strode into the room and stood against the wall while Maks remained by the door.

  “Someone better tell me what’s going on,” Callie said.

  Natalie grabbed some extra pillows as Callie struggled to sit up. Wyatt set his rifle against the wall while Callie got propped up. When he lifted his gaze, she was staring at him.

  It was like a punch to his gut. It had been the same the first time he’d seen her looking at him. She’d been timid, but in her eyes, he saw someone who was willing to break free of the cage she was in, someone who was wild at heart.

  Someone who hungered for the wide open spaces just as he did.