Sanctuary Deceived WITSEC Town Series Book 4

by Lisa Phillips

  Sucking noises caught her attention, and she glanced over as Ben and Grant turned. Thea was locked in a passionate embrace with Dante. The men watched, smirks on their faces.

  Nadia couldn’t believe it. “Okay, so I wasn’t expecting that.”

  Thea leaned back, lifted her gun, and pointed it at them. “Which one do you want to kill first?”

  Dante didn’t even look at Javier, who stood to the side like he had no idea what to do or say. Nadia wanted to hold the kid’s hand, but she’d probably get shot for it. Someone needed to support the boy. His whole world was crumbling.

  Dante shoved the gun aside, and the force sent it dangerously close to being aimed at Javier. The boy’s eyes widened, but Dante didn’t even notice. “We’re not killing them yet. We need Bolton, and they’re the perfect bait for a trade.”

  Dante’s eyes settled on Nadia for a second. “We meet again.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not tied to a chair this time. And I don’t see any sex traffickers for you to give me to.” Bravado probably wasn’t a good plan, but she had nothing else. Where was Bolton? She didn’t want him anywhere near this pair and whatever they were planning. He needed to get off this island. Thea didn’t need protecting, and Javier probably only needed about thirty years of intensive therapy.

  Dante sneered. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  Ben didn’t look happy at the exchange, but Nadia needed time to figure out how they were going to get out of this.

  Dante turned to his guys. “Where’s that radio?”

  One of the men handed over the unit. Dante smirked and lifted it to his lips. “Bolton Farrera, you hear me?”

  Silence.

  Then, “Dante.”

  Bolton. Nadia’s heart clenched, and Thea’s eyes narrowed on her.

  “Good. Everyone’s here. Now listen up.” Dante’s eyes hardened as he spoke into the radio. “Thirty minutes on the beach at the bottom of the west fork. You for your two Mason buddies and this girl who keeps showing up every place I go. Don’t show, I kill them. Come with me, and no one gets hurt.” Dante lowered it.

  “No one gets hurt?” Thea said. “I thought—”

  Dante cut her off. “There’s your problem.” He slung his arm around her neck so fast she slammed into his side. “Let’s go.”

  Nadia was sick of being marched all over the place. This whole thing was one giant mess, and super spy Ben Mason looked mad he’d been bested. He should be breaking free and fighting them all…and winning. Her brother would have done it. What was wrong with him that he looked like he was giving up? The only reason her brother would do that was…

  She glanced at Ben.

  He winked.

  Dante thought he was going to trade their lives for Bolton. She hadn’t considered that he’d really let them live, but neither did she want to be massacred in front of a boy already having a bad enough day.

  “Are we at least going to kill Bolton when he gets to the beach?” Thea’s voice had bled out its confidence. She sounded like a woman humiliated into taking the lower place when she’d considered herself Dante’s equal. But Dante didn’t answer. “I can’t believe you really came here for me. I’ve been waiting for you all these years.”

  Did she really think romantic sentiments were going to work on a man like Dante? Nadia wasn’t sure if the woman was delusional or just dumb.

  “It sure has been a while,” Dante said. “Lot of years in prison with no one to attend to my…needs.”

  Nadia nearly threw up in her mouth. It got worse when Thea giggled. She didn’t want to know what was going on behind her, or what Thea had just whispered.

  Bolton was going to have to see this. He was going to have to face the news that his ex-wife had been having an affair with his worst enemy. For how long? Nadia sucked in a breath and glanced at Javier, who looked at her with a question in his eyes. Was the boy even Bolton’s son…or was he Dante’s?

  Nadia didn’t know which would be worse.

  **

  Bolton and Colt walked through the clearing to where a patch of blood stained the grass.

  “Someone’s hurt.” Bolton scanned the ground. Boot-prints in the soft mud made by big, heavy guys. Multiple sets.

  Colt said, “Twenty-five minutes now. It takes ten to get to the beach if we run fast and cut through the trees, but it could be treacherous. We had some rain a couple of days ago, and I’m not in the mood to slide down the side of this mountain.”

  Bolton nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

  The tactical team they’d seen headed to town had stopped long enough to laugh over the gunfire, and then continued on. Whatever had happened here, he didn’t know who was dead or alive. Though Dante seemed to have emerged as the victor. Was it Ben and Grant? Bolton couldn’t imagine them getting bested. But they weren’t superheroes.

  “What do you have that Dante wants?”

  Bolton spoke as they walked. “I stole something from him. Insurance, you could call it. After I made it clear that I had it, the attacks stopped. But now Dante is out, and he wants it back. Well too bad. He thinks he can hurt the people I care about to get what he wants, but it doesn’t work like that.”

  “Agreed.” A man stepped out from the trees. Full tactical gear, but his face was in plain view.

  “Tristan.”

  “Secure them.” Armed men stepped out of the bushes on all sides. The team held their weapons on Bolton and Colt and the two men with them.

  Bolton tried to resist. “We have to get to the beach. We can’t let Dante hurt any of the people here.”

  “What do you think the plan is?” Tristan said. “Dante must be contained, and you’re the reason he’s loose. You’re the reason he’s traipsing all over the country hauling people from their lives and trying to kill them.”

  He gritted his teeth. “That’s why I’m here, trying to stop him from getting to Thea and Javier, too.”

  Tristan almost smiled. Why would he— “Ah, yes. So innocent, and yet…perhaps not.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Bolton was divested of his weapons, though they didn’t find the knife in his boot, and then he was shoved with the barrel of the gun. Tristan said, “I guess you’re going to find out.”

  Colt scanned the men with his gaze. Bolton could almost see the plan coalescing behind his eyes but gave him a short shake of his head. They didn’t need anybody else here dying because of what Dante had done.

  The whole plan had disintegrated into a heap of nothing. They were back to reacting instead of protecting this town from being overrun by men trying to kill or capture others. And where was the marshals’ service? Surely these people weren’t expected to take care of themselves. Not when armed men had amassed in the woods.

  Grant, Ben, and Bolton should have been enough to take care of them. And Colt, along with his men. But things were getting worse and worse.

  Dante had Ben and Grant. Was that even possible? He’d considered Ben some kind of larger-than-life superhero. Apparently he was only a man like the rest of them. Now Nadia was in danger, too. She was supposed to have been back at the plane with Will.

  Dante had bested him.

  Bolton glanced back. “How did he escape from prison?”

  “He had help.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Bolton clipped.

  Tristan snorted. “If it was me then I’ve royally messed up, haven’t I?” He paused. “Hmm…unless there’s something Dante can do that no one else can. But what would that be?”

  That was the question. Tristan was in no way above double crossing Dante, which meant if they were going to the beach he probably planned to screw Dante over. Tristan would probably put a bullet in Dante’s head and then force Bolton to take him to the stash.

  Like he’d tell either of them.

  “I think you did set him loose. Or at least you allowed it to happen,” Bolton said. “Does he still think you’re loyal to him, even now? All that federal pull, a powerful thin
g. But you have to have come under scrutiny since your own partner is one of the dirtiest agents the DEA ever had.” He blew out a breath in mock-empathy. “Can’t have been easy, carrying on your good work with that scandal hanging over your head. You must have done an impeccable job of keeping your name out of the DEA’s internal affairs files if no one ever connected you to Dante’s operation.”

  Tristan shrugged one shoulder. “I’m good.”

  “I see that.”

  And yet there was no way the DEA wasn’t at least watching Tristan Sanders. So far Ben had discovered bank accounts and that property on Bainbridge Island. He’d hidden them well, but not well enough that Remy couldn’t trace the two back to Tristan.

  His bosses at the DEA had to have done the same. So what were they doing about the fact yet another of their people was guilty of betraying their sworn oath? Had the DEA turned a blind eye out of embarrassment, or were they even now making a case against Tristan while trying to hide the fact Dante had escaped from federal prison.

  Or was Tristan behind that, too?

  Everyone wanted Bolton’s stash, and if the risk was that it might wind up in someone else’s hands, then he was entirely prepared to live without it. He’d find money somewhere else if it meant his insurance stayed contained.

  Tristan grasped Bolton’s collar and put a gun to his head. They emerged onto the beach like that. Nadia stood with Ben and Grant in a protective stance around her. Bolton could have kissed both men right then. She looked shaken but unharmed. At least physically. Her gaze flew to his, and she gasped loud enough it drew Javier’s attention.

  The boy stood to the side, and Dante was with Thea. Her face brightened in a way that made his insides cold. He’d seen it in her, years ago, but hadn’t ever believed she would hit a point where she acted on the stripe of viciousness that lived in her. Apparently that day had come.

  “Kill him,” she yelled. “Do it now!”

  Dante grabbed her arm and hauled her back to his side. To contain her as his prisoner, or to restrain her? The question was answered when Thea hugged Dante’s side and gazed up at him the same way she’d once gazed up at Bolton. “Have your friend shoot him. For me.”

  Part of Bolton, deep down in his heart, was not surprised. Not in the slightest.

  Bolton looked at Javier, who looked about to cry. Or run.

  He should run, better than having to watch this. The boy’s gaze locked with Bolton. Long enough Bolton sent the kid a short nod. He was old enough and smart enough to know when to cut and run and take care of himself. This was it.

  He mouthed, Go.

  The boy darted into the trees.

  Gunshots rang out from beside him. One of the tactical team.

  Bolton strained against Tristan’s grip, while Ben grabbed Nadia and stopped her from going after the boy and getting killed. Dante fired once into the man of Tristan’s who had been shooting at the fleeing boy. The man fell to the ground.

  “What was that?” Tristan yelled. He fired at one of Dante’s guys and the man dropped. “One for one, my friend.”

  “Like you didn’t come here to kill me, Tristan? You think I’m crazy, but not so crazy I don’t have a solid plan to get that flash drive.”

  Bolton gritted his teeth. “Too bad none of you are getting that flash drive, because I’m not giving up its location. Ever.”

  Dante turned to one of his men. “Get that boy.” He straightened to stare at Bolton with intent in his eyes. “How about I shoot your kid if you don’t tell me.”

  Okay, so that threat might work. Bolton prayed then, asking God to look out for his son. To help him get away. If God was going to aid anyone, it would be a kid whose life was in danger. Bolton didn’t know much about God, but that seemed like it should be right.

  “He’s not…” Thea’s voice trailed off.

  “Spit it out, woman,” Dante snapped. “I’m in the middle of something, and you aren’t helping.”

  “Javier isn’t Bolton’s son. He’s yours.”

  Nadia gasped loud enough to draw Thea’s attention.

  “I’ve had enough of you.” Thea lifted her gun and fired.

  Grant dove in front of Nadia, and they fell to the ground. Tristan’s men opened fire. Dante’s guys were blasted onto their backs, and even Ben took cover. Bolton covered his ears the sound was so loud. He glanced around and saw Colt on the ground. Ben was down. Were they dead? Was Nadia dead, or Grant?

  God…

  Tristan fired. A red stain erupted in the middle of Thea’s chest. Her face flashed with surprise. As she fell, she fired off one shot. Bolton’s leg went out from under him. The pain was like fire and raced all the way to his chest. His hip gave out, and he sank on his hands into the sand.

  Dante strode forward. “Enough!”

  Tristan hauled Bolton to his feet.

  He gritted his teeth against the pain and managed to remain standing. Tristan otherwise ignored him, his focus on reaming Dante. “You want this to end, you end it. Nothing but grief you’ve given me. For years.”

  “Grief and a whole lot of money,” Dante fired back.

  “It doesn’t count if I can’t spend it. Internal Affairs is so far in my space I should charge them rent. This ends now, Dante.” He shook Bolton with every word. As if any of this was his doing.

  “Because you want the flash drive for yourself.” Dante waved the gun around like he wasn’t sure who to shoot first, Tristan or Bolton. “We get it. We split it. We go our separate ways.”

  Tristan was silent for a minute. Then he said, “Deal.”

  Chapter 22

  With her face smashed against the ground, Nadia could only see Ben’s shoes. Dante and Tristan were wrapped up in their conversation, so they didn’t notice when Ben slipped away into the trees. Where was he going? The beach was littered with bodies, and Grant’s was on top of hers.

  Lord, please don’t let him be dead. She liked her life, but it wasn’t worth the former director of the Marshals. The world couldn’t afford to lose a man capable of doing that much good for people who would never be safe apart from his help.

  She tried to move, then, as Tristan and Dante yelled at each other. Making a deal over Bolton’s stash.

  “Stay still,” Grant whispered in her ear.

  Thank You, Lord. He wasn’t dead, but Bolton was going to be by the sound of things. Tristan and Dante both wanted the stash, and he’d have to tell them. He couldn’t hold out forever against whatever they would do to him. Then, when they had it, they would kill him. Everything she’d been trying to do so far—everything she had thought God put her with Bolton to do—would be for nothing. And so why would God do that? God didn’t do pointless things.

  Nadia held still while Dante and Tristan walked Bolton from one edge of her view to the other. They ignored everyone else. Their single minded pursuit, of whatever Bolton had hidden, ensured the fact no one else was going to get hurt here. At least she prayed they didn’t plan to put a bullet in everyone before they left.

  If they didn’t care that anyone would follow or find them, then it meant they had extreme confidence that they would get what they were after. Nadia didn’t know how they could have that much faith in their own abilities. She would make a lousy criminal, always second guessing herself and hesitating. She’d probably be dead before the end of the first week.

  Out the corner of her eye, she saw when Bolton’s leg give out. He moaned, and they hauled him back up to standing. He could barely walk. What had they done to him? Nadia rallied, praying harder than she’d ever prayed about anything. Bolton had been a huge part of her life for so long she couldn’t imagine it without him. Or having to watch him suffer like this knowing it would grow much worse before it ended.

  Their voices grew quieter until she couldn’t hear them anymore. Nadia shifted. Grant let out a hiss. “Hold up.” He rolled off her to the side and moaned.

  Nadia lifted up and saw it then. “You were shot!”

  She whipped off her jacket, b
alled it up, and pressed it to the wound high on Grant’s chest. It was just under his shoulder blade. Half the blood on the back of her jacket was from where he’d lain on her.

  “Grant.” She breathed his name, not knowing the first thing about how she was going to help him. Was there even a doctor nearby? Could she call for a helicopter to stop at a place where there weren’t supposed to be any people? Were there emergency protocols in place for this? He wasn’t a resident, or a marshal. They weren’t even supposed to be here.

  Grant shifted. He lifted his phone up and ran his bloody thumb over the home button. The phone unlocked. He exhaled.

  Was the injury in his lung? Was he having trouble breathing?

  “Nadia.”

  She flicked her gaze up to his face.

  “Dial six-four-seven.” She fumbled the phone and got the numbers wrong twice. Grant set his hand over hers. “Relax, just breathe. Okay?”

  She nodded and looked around. There was no one else here, no one but a bunch of bodies. With supreme effort she managed to dial the number. It was that or let Grant die.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Um…hi. This is...” Should she even tell them? Who was this? “Maybe that’s not important.”

  “Go ahead.” The voice was impatient this time.

  “Grant Mason has been shot.”

  “Understood.” The line clicked off like a heavy textbook slammed closed in her face.

  Nadia looked at the phone in her hand. “Who was that?”

  “Help. That’s all. Just help.”

  “It wasn’t Remy.”

  “And Will has been compromised,” Grant said. His face was pale, and he was sweating.

  “Where’s Ben?” She sucked in a breath and yelled, “BEN!”

  “He’ll show back up in a few. He does that.”