by Donna Grant
“Hello, son,” Orrin said before firing off more shots.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“No!” Callie cried out when another camera was shot. She was fast losing what little sight she had of the battle.
Without knowing what was going on, she felt disconnected from her team. She didn’t know if they were winning or losing. Nor could she help them if she saw something they didn’t.
“Dammit,” she said and slammed her hand on the desk.
It sent a jolt through her, reminding her of her injury. She grimaced at the pain. She should be out there fighting with them, not holed up in the base, waiting.
A boom rocked the ground, halting her thoughts. She stilled, feeling the vibrations all around her. Callie looked up. Whatever had gone off had done so right above her.
A myriad of voices, gunfire, and screams were coming over the speakers. She didn’t know which were from the enemy and which were her team’s.
She searched the feed from the cameras for any sign of Wyatt. She spotted Natalie and Owen outside of the house, running toward the barn. She saw a few of the Delta Force team, but there was no sign of Maks or Wyatt.
The second explosion was louder, forcing her to grab hold of the desk to keep from falling out of her chair. She sat still until the shaking stopped.
Her heart pounded like a drum. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before they got into the base. Callie jumped up and hurriedly limped her way to the armory. She grabbed an AR-15, extra ammunition, and a pistol before bringing it all back to her desk.
Sweat beaded her brow from that simple exertion, but she didn’t stop to rest. There was no such thing in the heat of battle.
Callie quickly put her hair up in a ponytail. Then she slung the strap of the rifle over her shoulder and grabbed a crossbow, arrows, and the jammer—just in case. After, she walked to the back of the base where there was a hidden door.
She tried to run, but couldn’t manage more than a few steps before she had to stop and rest. With no other choice but to settle for an awkward limp, she made her way out down the tunnel and finally outside, locking the door behind her at the foot of the hill.
The sounds of battle were so loud that it deafened her after having been underground. She took a few calming breaths, then began climbing up the hill. She gripped the grass with her empty hand to help her climb and remain unseen. Then she rolled onto her stomach.
Gritting her teeth against the agony, she lifted the rifle to her shoulder and took aim. Then she began firing, moving from one target to another and aiming for the largest part of their bodies.
She was able to get five shots off before she came under fire. Callie rolled twice to the left and took out two more before she had to slide down the hill, covering her head.
With no other choice, she moved to a cluster of trees where the hill was at a more manageable incline in her present state. She reached the trees and suddenly found herself pinned against one, looking into Arctic blue eyes and feeling a blade against her throat.
“Hey, Callie,” Cullen said from behind the man.
She looked at Cullen and raised her brows. “Can you get this maniac off me.”
The man lifted his lip in a sneer. “You’re bleeding,” he said before he turned away.
“That’s Lev,” Cullen stated. Then he looked at her side, a frown forming.
She didn’t care who Lev was as long as he was on their side. “When did you get here?”
“A few minutes ago. Dad is in the barn with Wyatt and Maks.”
“So Wyatt’s alive?”
Cullen shrugged. “The last time I saw him, yes.”
She set aside her rifle and lifted the crossbow to her shoulder, but she couldn’t hold it steady. Lev threw a set of knives at two foes, then he came to her. He held out his hand, waiting. She grudgingly handed the weapon to him.
“You should take care of that wound,” Lev said.
She heard a hint of Russian in his voice, but she didn’t have time to think about it as Cullen dropped down on one knee and began firing. The return shots had them both seeking cover while Lev snuck away to a better position.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” Cullen said as he reached for her rifle when his was emptied.
Callie took his weapon and began reloading. She could at least do that. “Where’s Mia?”
“With the chopper. She’s our best pilot.”
Callie kept reloading the rifles, looking up for a glimpse of Wyatt, and taking note of how well Lev was using the crossbow.
“Who is Lev?” she asked.
Cullen grunted and fired. “A fucking badass.”
For someone like Cullen to say such a thing, then Lev must be that good. “Then I’m glad you brought him.”
“Damn. Do the fuckers never die?” Cullen ground out.
Callie had also noted how Ahmadi’s men kept going straight for the barn where they knew Wyatt was. “Someone told them where Wyatt is.”
“Looks that way. Come on,” Cullen said as he grabbed her arm and hurriedly moved her seconds before bullets sprayed the area.
Callie felt blood trickle down her side. No doubt she’d busted a stitch or two, but she’d worry about that later. “We need to get to Wyatt.”
“We need to keep thinning the assholes out so they don’t swarm the barn.”
She knew Cullen was right, but her heart was begging her to go to Wyatt. Just when she was about to give in, she caught the briefest glimpse of him. Her heart nearly burst from her chest in happiness. His face was covered in grime, and there was blood dripping down his face from a wound on his temple. But he was alive.
“See? Wyatt’s fine. He’s too mean to die,” Cullen said.
Callie jerked her head to him, fury causing her to shake. “You don’t know anything about your brother.”
Cullen’s hazel eyes met hers. “No, I don’t. He made sure of that.”
“You didn’t exactly make an effort either.”
Their conversation ended when another spray of bullets found them. Callie moved one way while Cullen went another. She found a gun lying on the ground and scooped it up as she dove for cover.
She began to crawl on her stomach to one of the paddocks. The other barns were being left alone. Everyone was focused on where Wyatt and Maks were located. It was no coincidence. Someone from the Delta team had told the Saints. Was it Danny as she’d suspected? Or someone else?
The fact that Maks was fighting for his life alongside Wyatt in the barn removed him as a suspect.
She ignored the blinding pain in her side and kept moving. Her intention was to come up at the front of the barn and get inside to fight alongside Wyatt.
After another twenty feet, she stopped and looked down at her side. The blood had soaked through the bandage and into her shirt. She refused to let that stop her, though. Wyatt needed her help—they all did.
And she wasn’t going to let them down.
She made it to the front of the barn and looked around. The sight of her dead family made her sad. Not because she would miss them, but because they’d been so blinded by greed that they aligned with an evil group. They had left Wyatt no choice.
It boggled her mind that he had intervened on her behalf all those years. How had she not known? Had Orrin? Most likely. There was very little that escaped that man’s attention. Why then hadn’t Orrin told her?
What a fool she’d been. She looked at the house, the place Wyatt had grown up—and the place where he’d found his mother’s body. A single act had forever altered his path. It had isolated him, closed him off to everyone, but inside, he was still the same man who loved deeply and cared greatly. He just refused to show it.
Yet he had shown her in so many ways. It hadn’t been how she wanted or expected, but that didn’t make it any less so. She had just been too blind and angry to see what had been before her the entire time.
And she wasn’t going to lose him now. She would get to her feet and walk into the barn to help him fight aga
inst their enemies. Then she would watch him leave because she understood that he couldn’t be on the ranch since it was too painful.
Besides, there were people who needed Wyatt.
All the while, she would wait for him. Because he would come back for her. She knew that now. She’d tasted it in his kiss, felt it in his touch.
He was the only one for her. She was willing to fight to the death for him, to have him any way she could—because he was the other half of her heart.
Callie used the side of the barn to help her get to her feet. She touched her side, hating the pain. Then she wiped off the blood from her hand onto her pants and walked around the corner.
Her gaze immediately landed on Wyatt and Orrin, who stood together fighting off a swarm of dark-skinned men. She glanced upward and spotted Maks using what was left of the roof of the barn as cover as he continued to shoot.
An enemy snuck around Wyatt and made to come up behind him with a knife raised. Callie fired the rifle from her hip since she couldn’t lift it any higher.
Orrin glanced at her and winked. But it was Wyatt’s gold eyes that she stared into. He gave a nod and went back to shooting.
Callie moved to the side, using hay bales stacked together as a shield. Her rifle was soon out of ammunition, but Maks dropped four guns at her feet and grinned before rushing off.
She discarded her empty rifle and picked up another. The battle continued for another hour before it finally grew quiet. She leaned back against the hay and saw the blood on her side.
“What the fuck are you doing out here?” Wyatt demanded.
She turned so he couldn’t see her wound. “Most of the cameras were shot out, and you needed me.”
“That we did,” Orrin said. He came to her, bending to kiss her cheek. “It’s good to see your face.”
“It’s about time you got home,” she teased.
His eyes crinkled as his smile widened. Then he walked away to see to Yuri Markovic, who was with Maks.
Wyatt squatted down beside her. “Callie,” he began.
“One of your team betrayed you,” she blurted out.
He blew out a tired breath. “I know.”
“Is it Danny?”
“I don’t know. And this isn’t over yet.”
She swallowed. “I know.”
“I wanted you below in the base so you’d be safe.”
“While you’re out here?”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “This is what I do.”
“You do it well.”
“Go below. Please,” he begged. His voice was soft, his eyes pleading. He was showing her his feelings again.
Wyatt didn’t always say the words—in fact, he rarely said them. But he showed them. And this time, she knew what to look for.
“I’m not leaving,” she told him.
“I knew you’d say that. How’s your wound?”
“Not too bad.”
Orrin called Wyatt’s name before tossing over two bottles of water. Wyatt caught one at a time before handing a bottle to her. Callie drained it quickly.
When she lowered the now empty bottle, she found Wyatt staring at her with an odd look in his eyes. “What?”
“I’m sorry about your family.”
“Don’t be. They brought it on themselves, just as every person who joins the Saints does.”
Orrin walked up to them. “I hate to interrupt, but there are some things I need to tell you.”
“Like?” Wyatt urged.
Callie frowned when Orrin paused. She watched as he began reloading magazines.
Finally, Orrin said, “Ragnarok is a bioweapon unlike any other. Its main purpose is to render women unable to bear children.”
She was too stunned to speak, but not so Wyatt, who said, “Population control.”
“Yeah,” Orrin said.
Wyatt handed Callie the rest of his water to drink before he stood. “The Saints won’t get Ragnarok.”
“I know, son.” Orrin swallowed loudly. “I killed Mitch Hewett.”
“Good.”
Callie looked between father and son. There was something Orrin had to say, but he was having a hard time with it. The only instance when that occurred was when it involved Melanie. Callie’s gaze snapped to Wyatt as realization dawned.
Orrin looked up into Wyatt’s eyes. “The Saints had your mother killed because I saved a man they wanted dead.”
There was a long minute of silence before Wyatt asked, “What was the name of the person who killed her?”
“Andrew Smith.”
“Then I know who I’m going after when this is over.”
Orrin started to say something, but his words were drowned out as the firing began again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
A piercing, bitter rage filled Wyatt. The Saints had killed his aunt and uncle, they’d attempted to take Natalie’s and Owen’s lives as well as Cullen’s and Mia’s, and they’d nearly succeeded in ending Callie’s.
The Saints had terrorized his family, disrupted all of their lives, and killed dozens of innocents.
And they had taken his mother.
“Wyatt,” Orrin called.
But he wasn’t listening. The Saints wanted him dead. Ahmadi had tracked him halfway around the world to find him. He was going to give them exactly what they wanted.
Maks grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? We’ve cut their numbers in half. Stay here.”
Wyatt was done waiting. He was ready for action. “Sacagawea,” he said into the COMs, knowing Callie would use the jammer.
A moment later, the COMs went quiet. With a gun in each hand, he walked out of the barn and began firing, each bullet aimed with precision.
Not one of them missed their mark. He could hear Callie shouting his name, but he was done playing it safe. The Saints needed to be wiped out. And it was time they realized who they were dealing with.
That’s when he saw Bobby stand up and join the ranks of the Saints alongside Ahmadi’s men. Wyatt didn’t hesitate to turn his gun on his friend.
Bobby saw him and fired. Wyatt dropped down to one knee and squeezed the trigger, aiming for a debilitating wound instead of a kill shot. Because he was going to have a chat with his friend.
He didn’t watch as Bobby tumbled to the ground. When Wyatt stood, each of his brothers was on either side of him. Maks and another man Wyatt didn’t know soon joined them. The five stood against a seemingly unstoppable force. Then the remainder of the Delta team, including Danny, stood with them. Wyatt reloaded as he saw Orrin, Yuri, Natalie, and Callie join in the fray.
Their line held, even as bullets continued to shower down on them. But if they didn’t stand firm, if they didn’t prove their might, the Saints would win.
And the bastards had taken too much already.
He briefly thought of Callie and how different his life might have been had his mother not been murdered. There was a good chance he would have Callie in his life, and they’d be happy.
Wyatt loaded his last magazines into his guns and fired. Cullen was already out of bullets as he picked up a discarded enemy rifle.
The sound of a helicopter coming in low flooded the area with noise. Wyatt glanced up, expecting it to be their enemy. Instead, he saw a sleek white chopper with the doors open and a woman with vibrant red hair holding an RPG aimed straight at the enemy.
“Kate!” Orrin yelled.
But she couldn’t hear him over the roar. Mia sat in the pilot’s seat, maneuvering them easily. There was another man in the chopper with white hair, smiling as he fired his semi-automatic rifle into the enemy ranks.
Kate launched the RPG, sending the missle right into the heart of Ahmadi’s men. Wyatt and the others never quit firing. They were able to take out more of their foes, who had to choose between those in the chopper and those on the ground to kill.
Wyatt smiled when Kate released a second RPG, causing even more damage. Within seconds, the tides had turned in the Loughmans’ favor.
They were able to finish off the remaining men, who stood their ground instead of running off. Wyatt started after the cowards who ran, but his legs wouldn’t move as fast as he wanted. It wasn’t until he felt something drip into his boot that he looked down to find his leg bleeding from a wound near the top of his thigh.
That wasn’t his only injury. His side and arm hurt, and the wound on his back was bleeding again. He blinked the sweat and dirt out of his eyes and bent to retrieve a weapon as he ran past.
His brothers were beside him, the three gaining ground quickly. But they weren’t alone. Maks and the other man with the Arctic eyes were with them.
The five of them cut down the others viciously. There was no mercy, no quarter.
Wyatt sliced the throat of the last of Ahmadi’s men. He shoved the man away and looked around. The peace of the ranch had been shattered irrevocably.
“Well, shit,” Cullen said. “We did it.”
“Not quite,” Wyatt said as he turned and made his way back toward the barn.
He found Bobby on the ground, surrounded by the Delta team. The men moved aside when Wyatt and the others arrived. Wyatt stared down at Bobby with disgust.
“Wyatt, you need to listen,” Bobby began.
It was Maks who put the barrel of his rifle against Bobby’s temple. “I think we’re all done enough listening to you.”
“Why?” Wyatt asked him.
Bobby’s gaze moved around him before returning to Wyatt. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice,” Danny said.
Wyatt stared at the young soldier. “The Saints approached you?”
“They tried to blackmail me,” Danny admitted. “I told them to kiss my ass.”
Owen gave a nod of approval. “That’s how the Saints should be handled, Bobby.”
“You don’t know how powerful they are,” Bobby argued.
Wyatt went down on his haunches beside his old friend. “Tell me.”
Bobby licked his lips, indecision on his face. Finally, he said, “There is a council that runs the Saints.”
“How many?” Cullen demanded.
Bobby removed his hand from his stomach wound and looked at the blood. “I don’t know.”