“How I feel?” Okay, now that made him a bit uncomfortable.
“Not whether your stumps are sore or you have a cold, dumbass. How you feel,” he said, knocking his fist against his chest, right over his heart. “Women like to know. But don’t fuck it up by blurting it out when you’re six inches deep. Tell them when they know you’re not looking at ’em with sex-goggles on.”
Brian had to crimp his lips together at that word. “Sex-goggles?”
Reaper rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Tell Raydeen when you’re alone and not doing anything special. Or maybe, make it special, by cooking her a meal or rubbing her back when she’s tired. Tell her you love her. You do, don’t you?”
Brian nodded slowly. Of course, he did, but didn’t Raydeen already know? Then again, she hadn’t said those words to him. “She’s never said how she feels.”
“She probably doesn’t want to scare you off. If she says ‘I love you’ too soon, she might be afraid you’ll feel like she’s pushing you to say it back.”
“Or maybe she doesn’t feel that way about me.” That thought made his stomach hurt.
“You think she’s only into you for the sex?”
“It’s pretty great sex,” Brian said, arching a brow.
Reaper shook his head. “I’m no expert about love, but then again, I don’t have to be—I still know more than you. Raydeen’s in love with you. Ain’t no way she’s not. Think she stalks every wounded vet like she did you? Besides, Carly says it’s plain as the nose on your face. If the women think so, it’s gotta be true. It’s like they all have an internal love detector.”
Brian was pleased Carly had said so. And he was with Reaper, if the women thought it was true, maybe they’d already squeezed Raydeen for the intel.
Reaper leaned back again. “Yeah, women don’t come with a user’s manual to tell us how to win their hearts. Part of the challenge for us men is to figure out what matters to them.”
“Be a damn sight easier if there was a user manual,” Brian muttered.
“Don’t I know it. You know what I did? Just to prove how much I cared? I made her a damn koi fish pond. In Montana.” He shook his head. “Really had to study up how to do it right. Couldn’t have goldfish icicles the first winter storm, but you should have seen her face when I took her outside to see it…” His gaze wandered and a smile curved his mouth.
Brian frowned. “I don’t think Raye wants a koi fish pond.”
“That is the mystery, man. The one you have to solve. What does Raye want?”
Brian still hadn’t figured out exactly what great gesture he could make to prove how he felt. Words were cheap. He’d watched how the other hunters had proved their love.
Dagger let Lacey cover his face in mud masks for her YouTube vlog. Quincy was busy outfitting a nursery in his house, even though Tamara wasn’t in any particular hurry to have babies. He just wanted to be ready, to prove to her he was in this thing for the long haul. Cochise showed Sammy all the time how much he respected and loved her. He was a big brother to her sister, had outfitted her room at college with everything a student needed, and he’d paid for her books. Sky had given Jamie the unfussy wedding she’d wanted, mud and all, free of all the frou-frou things she despised about weddings. Hook? He was pretty sure that Hook had proven his love when he’d believed in Felicity when all the evidence of the robberies at her former place of employment had pointed at her. She’d needed to be part of the team to catch the robber, and he’d enabled that.
So, what the hell could he do for a fiercely independent woman who didn’t want koi ponds or need him to subject himself to the humiliation of mud masks for the world to see?
His mind went round and round that question while he flew the drone and watched the screens.
“Hey,” Raydeen said, pointing at the drone’s feed. “Did you see that?”
He used the joystick to turn the drone back the way it had flown while he watched the camera feed. It still being winter, the forest canopy wasn’t so thick he couldn’t see breaks between the branches.
“There,” she said again. “I see someone.”
So did he. A pop of red amid the browns, greens, and grays.
He checked the elevation and brought the drone down so that it skimmed the treetops.
“Could that be your guy?” Edgar whispered.
Brian hit the zoom button to get a better look at the tall, burly man walking through the forest. He wore a red flannel jacket, dark pants, a ballcap that hid his face, and a backpack. Just as the drone passed him, the man glanced upward. Brian froze the screen and zoomed closer.
He glanced down at the desk at the mug shot of Chester Morgan, who was wanted for shooting up a bar in Hungry Horse, hospitalizing three men, and then leading law enforcement officials on a high-speed chase along Highway 2. When deputies had managed to get in front and in back of him and forced him to a stop, he’d killed one deputy, wounded the other, and then entered the woods.
Every law enforcement entity in Montana was hunting the man. And here he was, miles from the spot where he’d first left the road—and he wasn’t very far from the teams’ locations.
Brian radioed Reaper. “We spotted him. How far from the highway are you guys?”
Brian couldn’t drive crazy fast to meet the teams along the roadside, not with Edgar working the drone controls and tracking Chester’s movements. As well, Raydeen gave constant updates regarding the location of the teams as she tracked them on an app on Brian’s phone.
He slowed the van just as Reaper’s team left the tree line.
The team crowded into the back of the van, leaving behind all of Rosalie’s film crew, except the camera man, and then they were off again, making their way two more miles down the highway to find Dagger’s group.
Once they had all the hunters and a pared down film crew packed like sardines inside the van, Edgar provided Raydeen the coordinates for Chester’s current location, and Reaper called the sheriff to have him notify all the other agencies that they were closing in.
“The highway runs parallel to his route,” Reaper said, leaning over Brian’s shoulder. “We’ll drop Dagger’s team behind him, in case he doubles back, and then I’ll need you to drop my team ahead of him. We’ll squeeze him between us and surround him.”
“He’s running pretty close to the highway,” Brian said. “I wonder if he’s got someone ready to pick him up roadside.”
“Could be,” Reaper said. “Maybe you need to get a second drone in the air. One to watch the highway and see if anyone comes along, and the other following him.”
“Good idea. Edgar there,” he said, giving Edgar a glance in his rearview mirror, “can operate one while I work the other. He’s not getting any filming done, but he’s been really handy.”
Edgar laughed. “I duct-taped my camera to the table. I’ll salvage something.”
“Great,” Brian said, his tone dry.
They reached a spot just behind Chester’s location, and Brian popped the back door for Dagger’s team to exit. He watched as they ran into the forest, heading on a diagonal azimuth to hopefully catch up to killer.
Then Brian drove again, stopping when they were half a mile ahead of Chester.
Reaper patted his shoulder. “See you when this is through. Let us know if we get any company.”
“Will do.”
As soon as Reaper’s team was in the woods, Brian turned the van around to head to where he’d noted a widening in the road a quarter of a mile back. When he parked there, he turned to Raydeen. “We’ll be watching the action on the ground. I’ll need you to keep an eye on the highway. Watch through your windshield and the mirrors. Might want to sit in my seat.”
She nodded. “Anything suspicious, and I’ll holler.”
He leaned toward her, gave her a quick kiss, then grabbed the tops of the seat and used his hand on the table for balance as he walked to his seat in front of the monitors.
“You still got Chester in your sigh
ts?” he murmured to Edgar.
“Gonna need to take these controls?”
“Yeah, I’ll need to coordinate the teams’ movements once they’re close. The other drone is in a case in the bench compartment nearest the door. Get it out, and we’ll set it up, then you can work that remote controller.”
A few minutes later, he and Edgar sat side by side, watching the views from the cameras as the drones flew over the highway and the forest.
“Reminds me of my college days,” Edgar said.
“How’s that?”
“I spent weekends playing online games with other players. This doesn’t feel any more real than that was.” He gave Brian a sideways glance and grinned. “This is fun.”
“Maybe you missed your calling, man.”
Edgar laughed. “Maybe I did. Although watching so many moving parts at once is a skill set I don’t think I have.”
Brian glanced at the bright dots on the GPS screen which indicated the team member’s locations then double-checked Chester’s location. “Dagger,” he said into the mic, “He’s over that next ridgeline in front of you. He’s skirting it midway down the slope.”
“Can you see if he’s armed?”
“Have to assume he is, but I’ll move closer…” He hovered the drone and dropped its elevation. Then he zoomed in on Chester from the back. “He has a rifle on one shoulder. Looks like something else holstered on his thigh.
At just that moment, Chester halted and glanced behind him and up.
“He’s spotted the drone.” When Chester raised his arm, he held a handgun. The gun jerked in his hand.
“Shot fired,” Dagger said into his mic.
“Yeah, he was aiming at the drone, which was stupid. No accuracy at that distance. Now, he’s running. He knows he has company. Good news is, he’s running straight for Reaper’s team. Maybe one click away from your location, Reaper.”
“Roger that,” Reaper said. “We’ll hunker down and be waiting.”
Tension inside the van rose.
He glanced at Raydeen. She was chewing a nail as she kept her gaze on the highway in front of them.
Edgar’s eyes were wide as his gaze darted back and forth from his screen, which showed the highway, to Brian’s screens.
For himself, Brian felt pretty cool. Yes, his focus was narrowing, just like it had in any combat scenario he’d found himself in the desert. His heart thudded at a steady beat. His breaths deepened. He heard a tapping and realized the sneaker on one of his artificial feet was making the noise.
Again, he checked Reaper’s team’s location. All the bright dots had halted; likely everyone had taken cover under brush or behind a tree.
Dagger’s was keeping apace of Chester’s progress, but not closing in as they had before. “Reaper, your team will make contact first. He’s nearly there.”
“See him,” Cochise said. “I have a bead on him. I can take him out, if need be.”
The sounds of heavy breathing in microphones filled the van. No one spoke.
Above the trees, the drone tracked Chester, until he halted then slowly turned in a circle. He raised the hand not holding the gun to his face.
“He knows you’re there,” he said quietly into the mic. “And I think he must have a two-way radio. I think he’s talking to someone.”
“Hey, Brian?”
Raydeen’s voice broke his concentration, but he didn’t dare look away from the screen. “Yeah, babe?”
“We’ve got company…”
He shot a quick glance out the front windshield just in time to see an older model SUV pull to a halt in the center of the highway. One window rolled down, the long barrel of a rifle appearing in the opening.
Chapter 12
Raydeen gasped when a large, firm hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her from her seat to the floor. She landed hard on her shoulder, but the sound of a gunshot and the thwack of a round hitting the windshield obliterated any thought of pain.
Brian still sat in his chair, but he was bent over her. “Keep on the floor,” he whispered.
His glance went to Edgar, who had already moved to the floor even while he still held his drone controller. “Stay down.”
“No problem,” the man said. “But what the hell are we gonna do?”
Brian reached over Raydeen and tapped the latch on one of the lockboxes in the bench. He pulled out a long rifle and a large magazine filled with bullets, which he promptly inserted into the rifle. Then he pushed up to his full height, unable to crouch as he walked toward the back of the van.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Raydeen said. “You need to get down.”
“I will,” he said, opening the back door of the van, and then grimacing as he held onto the door and leaped to the ground.
Of course, he landed on his ass. “Motherfucker,” he gritted out.
Raydeen scrambled on her hands and knees to get to the back and see whether he was hurt.
“Uh, three men just got out of that SUV,” Edgar said behind her.
Her heart pounded in a chest suddenly too tight to breathe. “Brian, what the fuck are you doing?” she whispered harshly, as she glanced down to where he’d landed, only he was on his hands and knees now, still grasping the rifle.
He looked up at her. “Baby, get back inside. Lock the doors. Keep close to the floor. Please, I’ll do what I can. Dagger’s team heard what’s happening. They’re on the way. I just have to hold these guys off long enough…” He tightened his jaw.
She knew there wasn’t time. That he had to try to save them. He was a soldier. He knew what to do.
Still, he needed to know. They’d danced around whatever it was they’d been doing long enough. “Don’t get your ass killed, you hear? I love you.”
His lips twitched, and then he flattened his body to the ground and crawled beneath the van.
Knowing she needed to keep safe, for his sake as well as her own, she slammed the door shut then moved toward the monitors, watching the feeds transmitting from the helmets worn by Dagger’s team as they crashed through brush to get to them.
So far as Brian was concerned, the men in the SUV were chicken shits and didn’t have a clue how to go about charging the van. They seemed to be arguing about who should take the lead as they ducked behind the open doors of their vehicle.
He thought maybe they needed a little more confusion to increase their agitation with each other, so he gazed down the long barrel of his rifle and selected his target—one of the SUV’s tires. He drew a deep breath, let it partially out, then slowly pulled the trigger.
The tire deflated, and the men cursed.
“Uh, Chester’s nearing the road, guys,” Edgar’s voice came over the comms.
“How far out are we?” Dagger said, his breaths huffing.
“You’re right behind him. Can’t tell how far, but you’re closer than Reaper’s team.”
“I shot out a tire. We have three tangos on the road,” Brian said.
“Good one, Bri,” Reaper said, not sounding out of breath in the least. “Pin then down. We’ll be there.”
One of the men must have drawn the short straw, because he moved swiftly from behind a door and ran toward the van, a handgun held out in front of him. His buddies formed a V-pattern behind him. They were a hundred yards from the van, and Brian knew he couldn’t let them get any nearer. Keeping close to the van’s left front wheel for cover, he took aim again, this time at a meaty thigh.
The man in the lead toppled over, screaming as he held his leg.
The other two fanned out.
Because he wanted to make sure the downed man was out of the fight for good, he took aim at his right shoulder.
Now, Brian knew he’d be more vulnerable, unable to keep watch on the two remaining targets as the drew nearer and split, so he chose one, the man coming toward his left side.
Scooting back just a bit to get behind the wheel, he moved his rifle and took aim, this time picking a larger body par
t—something he wouldn’t miss—the right-side chest of the man crouched and running toward him. He pulled the trigger, knew he’d hit the man when he went to his knees, and then he moved back farther beneath the van, scooting out from under it because the remaining attacker had arrived at the front and was making his way around the right side.
Brian sat, his weapon raised, listening to the crunch of gravel.
Suddenly, from his right, Chester burst out of the tree line.
Brian moved out of his line of fire, scooting perilously close to the corner where the other man lurked.
“Get in the fucking truck,” Chester yelled.
The man on the other side of the SUV paused.
“Tire’s shot out! We need the van!” one of the fallen men called out. “I’m shot, Chester. Don’t leave me behind.”
Chester ran toward the van, passing his buddy. “Dumb fuckers. Why’d you engage in the first place?”
“We saw the antennas on the van,” the fallen man wheezed. “Knew it was law enforcement. Knew they’d run us down if we didn’t take ’em out.”
“Why the hell would they know you’re with me?” Chester bellowed. “Stupid fuckers!”
As quietly as he could, Brian pushed up from the ground, one hand on the van for balance. His right leg throbbed from the jump, but he ignored it. He figured the men wouldn’t shoot the van on purpose because they needed it to escape, so Raydeen and Edgar were relatively safe for the moment, but he had to distract them again.
“They’re signaling with their hands,” Edgar whispered. “You hear me, Brian?”
Brian didn’t answer, the other man was too close. Gritting his teeth, he moved away from the van, walking away in jerking motions as fast as he could, knowing he was revealing himself, but he had to make it to the ditch. If he could, he’d take up a position to continue to cause them problems.
He heard a distant rattle, like maybe Chester had tried the door handle of the van.
Brian: A Montana Bounty Hunters Story Page 10