Fields of Thunder

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Fields of Thunder Page 9

by Aliyah Burke


  “And he just took the child in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she now?” He accepted his own bag then opened them, before popping a few in his mouth.

  “She died years ago.” With a concise movement she opened her bag. “He doesn’t talk about it. None of us know why or how it happened.”

  “And he never married again?”

  “I’ve never seen him even remotely interested in a woman, not since I got to the winery. Lian is a man unlike any you meet nowadays. He has this old code he goes by. Strict, though. I remember never wanting to disobey his rules. With him—at least for me—the threat of a punishment was enough to deter me. I never once saw him raise his hand to any of the children. There is something about him that compels cooperation.”

  “Surely some were troublesome.”

  “Most definitely.” A wry smile touched her mouth. “You know, I never once knew of a case where he sent a child back, no matter how troubled they were. Some have stayed on here, working and living, while others have gone on with their lives.”

  “Except for you and the Guardians. None of you have even considered leaving?”

  “I don’t think so. I haven’t. I mean, the place in town is my leaving.”

  “Do the others have homes on the property? Or does everyone live in the main house?”

  “Main house,” she said. She stuffed her empty peanut bag in the liquid-free glass, along with the napkin.

  “Hmm,” he commented.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing for sure yet.”

  They handed over their empties and sat back while the attendants demonstrated the safety features of the plane. Altair reached over and twined his fingers with hers. She gave him a squeeze. A grateful one, he’d like to believe.

  He kept an eye on her as they taxied and, sure enough, the moment they’d taken off, she lifted the shade at her shoulder. Her sigh was so deep, so full of relief, he could feel it.

  Altair bent close to her ear and said, “The offer to distract you is still there. We could open up the blankets we were given and do it under those.”

  “How generous of you,” she replied.

  “More like greedy, but I will take generous.”

  He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes, content for the time being. Their hands remained clasped and whenever her body tensed, he stroked his thumb along the inside of her wrist.

  They made good time, and he followed her off the jet in Greensboro. At the baggage claim, he walked around, taking notice of their surroundings as they waited for the carousel to start running. He returned to her side when a loud beeping pierced the air.

  “You okay?” she asked, hands shoved in her back pockets as she watched the first bags drop.

  “Yes. Just have a feeling.”

  “Someone is following us? You’re right. Someone is. Or, rather, a few people.” She kept her voice pitched low. Even so, he had no trouble hearing her.

  “How did you know?”

  “I pretended to use my phone and say where we were going. The two men who are doing this are signing to one another across the space so they never have to verbally communicate with each other.”

  “I missed that. I saw the two guys who kept watching us but wasn’t sure how they communicated.”

  “It’s a way that can’t be picked up by radio and eavesdropped on. Either you know the signs or you don’t.” She walked forward and checked a tag before stepping back, allowing the bag to continue going around. “They are more focused on looking like they need their bags now. The one in beige signed we were heading out of town about twenty miles to our destination, which is what I told the non-existent person on the other end of my phone.”

  Altair swiped one of the hard suitcases off. Their second one was on its way toward them and he grabbed that one as well.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She flashed a blinding smile. “Of course. I’m excited about this vacation. Don’t you know how long it’s been since we’ve been on one, just the two of us?”

  He grinned back. “I would say years.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Come on. Let’s get the car and get on our way.”

  “Lead on.”

  She might be a Guardian but he still wanted to protect her, and if that meant putting himself between her and the ones following them, so be it.

  Chapter Nine

  “Why did we not just take a taxi?”

  Roz glanced at the man asking the question as she flipped open the lid of her suitcase.

  “I don’t want to rely on one for a ride. Not to mention, this way the car is here at the hotel and we may be elsewhere.”

  “A decoy.”

  She nodded and placed all her clothing in the top before she touched the bottom. Weapons came into view. Behind her, Altair whistled low.

  “That is impressive.”

  No argument from her on that. “Inaki is amazing at what he can do. Between him and Lian, stuff can be hidden so well. Anyway, these are for you. I hope they are going to be good enough.”

  “I can make do with anything—a knife if need be.”

  The coldness in his words chilled her like she’d just done a polar plunge in the Arctic. She looked over her shoulder and was racked by another shudder. The blankness on his face with the danger in his eyes chilled her to the core.

  “What is wrong?”

  She accepted the warmth from the voice. “Nothing, Aminta. How are you doing?”

  “About to go up on a rescue. What is freaking you out?”

  “Altair’s expression.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “You know how we used to kid about how serious Tiarnán was before we went out? Well, this makes him look like a cuddly bear.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I am not scared of him—not for me personally—but this look is different. It’s like he’s accepting death. I’m not sure if it’s his or someone else’s.”

  “He’s just a carpenter?”

  “No, not just. He was a Mossad agent.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, makes things a bit different.”

  “You’re going to be well protected then. If his expression is bothering you, talk to him about it. Don’t ignore it.”

  “How did you get so smart?”

  “I’ve always been. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it.”

  “Go fly your chopper, woman. Stay safe.”

  “Always. You too.”

  Aminta was gone.

  “Problems at home?” he asked.

  She blinked a few times before it sank in he was talking to her. “No, that was just Aminta checking on me.”

  “I see.”

  She watched him check the weapons with cool efficiency. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.” He slammed home the magazine on the M-4, set it down and picked up the Desert Eagle.

  “You said Mossad.”

  “You want to know what exactly. I was part of Kidon.”

  She searched her memory banks but couldn’t pull up anything on that word. “Which means?”

  “It is an ultra-secret group that deals with assassinations.”

  Isn’t that nice. “I see.”

  He met her gaze. “Should I be telling you this? No. I am, though. I will not hide secrets from you. If you ask a question, I will answer it.”

  She sat on the bed and began putting her clothing back in place, with the exception of what she was going to wear this evening. “Did you ever get used to it?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. There was a period there where it did not bother me as I would like to believe it should have. It is our way of life. Training is brutal. We see things and train harder than any other group. I was born into war, Rosamund. We do not choose to fight for our country. We fight to live. In a sense, I was already hardened to some of the brutalities expected of me.”

  His use of her full first name threw
her for a moment. “That’s why you are so cavalier about your scars.”

  “I suppose so.” He put the Desert Eagle in the provided holster and set it on the bed. “Does this bother you?”

  “I’m not sure. I know I’m furious someone did that to you but I don’t see how I have the right to tell you how to react to something you went through. It was your experience, not mine.”

  He walked to stand beside her. She looked up at him and leaned into his touch when he cupped her face with his hand. “I will never hurt you, Roz. Nor will I attempt to. I cannot change my past nor the man I have become because of it. I am who you see before you.”

  “I know this,” she admitted, turning so she could wrap her arms around his waist. Placing her legs on either side of his, she hugged him tight. “Just like I am who I am. A woman who loves to drink, debate and have sex—not necessarily all at the same time.”

  He placed a kiss to the top of her head. “I hope you do not tell this to Lian—or Tiarnán.”

  She chuckled. “Think it may not go over so well?”

  “Not at all,” he deadpanned his answer and she laughed harder.

  “I see your point—T isn’t the gentlest man in the world.”

  “Come on, woman. We have an assault to plan.”

  She released him and lay across her bed, waiting for him to join her with the satellite images Edmond had provided them with. He flopped beside her and spread them out before them both.

  “Okay,” she said, looking at the pictures.

  “Main headquarters.” He pointed it out.

  “Looks like there is only one way that isn’t guarded on the approach and that’s from the south here.” She tapped the paper. “They must be confident nothing can get through there.”

  “I can,” he said.

  “No.”

  He glanced at her. “What do you mean no?”

  “I mean I want to come that way. I will be. You are going through the front.”

  “The front?”

  “Yes. Every Saturday they order pizza. Tonight, you will be the driver.”

  “And you will be coming up through the woods on that side?”

  “I’ll be there by the time you deliver the damn pizza.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “That’s part of what my sign gives me—swiftness. I will be there. But I don’t think you would be able to make it through as fast. This is something we do. Let me do this part now.”

  “What do I do then?”

  He didn’t like her decision but he didn’t argue it with her further. He took her explanation and moved on. She admired that about him—and the fact he wasn’t trying to run this attack but deferring to her and what she knew or usually did.

  She put her hand on his arm. “All these people have devoted their lives to bringing about this change, following The New Order so chaos can reign. Don’t listen to anyone in there who claims otherwise. They never have new inductees at places like this. Only members who have proven themselves. So they may try to sway you by saying they were just brought there. It’s not true. They will kill you the second they have the chance.”

  “Are you sure there is no one there undercover?”

  She rolled and sat, crossing her legs as she stared at the man her life was intertwined with.

  “This isn’t a terrorist cell. They aren’t trying to make a statement like that. These are members of a faction who want Them to take over and rule with an iron fist—bring back the darkness and death. You can hold a decent conversation with them, most, and not even know they belong.”

  “Then why do they have the different headquarters?”

  “Each place is working on something specific. Some are working on building plans. Others, monetary issues. Some are experimenting on people.” She cracked her neck. “We need to get to their computer and pull any files we can. If it’s a laptop, bring it.”

  “And no one questions anything?”

  “Nope. They all follow Them. Don’t know if it’s brainwashing or just the empty promises of untold riches and power that do it. Not sure.”

  “How do I know what They look like?”

  Fear locked around her heart at the thought of him facing one of Them. “Trust me, you’ll know. It shouldn’t happen. If we thought one of Them was here, more of the Guardians would have come.”

  He held her gaze. “That dangerous?”

  “Yes. And, unfortunately, getting stronger.”

  “Anything else I should know?” He sat facing her.

  She nodded. Reaching out, she yanked him to her until their lips were touching. “Don’t go getting yourself killed. That would not make me happy.”

  The kiss became something so much more in the next instant. She didn’t have words to describe it. All she knew was this man had come to mean a hell of a lot to her over their short time together. She would kill for him. She would die for him.

  * * * *

  Altair drove the car up the long drive. He did his best to avoid the ruts that appeared dead set on bottoming out the rattletrap 1980 Ford Fiesta he handled. Hell, the speedometer wouldn’t go over eighty-five. The vinyl seat beneath him had long since seen better days.

  The moon was full, casting its glow down to the land. There was nary a cloud in the sky to offer any type of cover for an assault.

  He slowed and moved around another hole as he thought of Roz coming up the only way that had shelter. He’d passed it on the drive here. Thick foliage and who knew what kind of creatures were inhabiting it. Then she was going to scale a rocky ascent to make it the last bit to the house.

  He pushed her from his mind and checked his watch again, ensuring to remain exactly on time. When he finally parked the car, he adjusted his hat then climbed out. Opening the passenger door, he stared at the insulated carriers for a moment before reaching in to pull them into his arms.

  He shoved a piece of gum in his mouth seconds before he strode to the door. Pressing the bell, he waited. A large man yanked the door open and glared at him, music pouring past out into the night.

  “Where’s Sammy?” he demanded.

  He popped his gum. “Don’ know who Sammy is. I was sent to deliver your pies. Ten of them.” He looked at the list in his hand. “Two supreme, two meat lovers with extra cheese, a pineapple with Canadian bacon, two pepperoni with sausage, extra Roma’s, cheese and anchovies. Then there is one with a bunch of veggies and two six cheese. Sound about right?”

  He peered around Altair, sniffed, and waved him in. “Set it in the kitchen and we’ll get you the money.”

  “Show me the way,” he said.

  “Food’s here!” the guy called out over the noise.

  Altair trailed him, taking in the number of people. He counted ten and couldn’t see any weapons on any other than two—the one who’d answered the door and another who sat off by himself near a window. When they passed him, he jumped to his feet and stepped in the path.

  “What are you doing in here?” he snapped.

  “Taking the pies to the kitchen.” Altair jerked his head to the left. “He said to.”

  Thug Two pushed the one he’d been trailing. “You just allowed him in here? Did you even check him for guns?”

  “He’s delivering pizza,” Thug One said, shoving back. “You think the guns are on top of each one? Sitting in the cheese?”

  He glared before looking back to Altair. “I’m coming with.”

  “Can we go? These are heavy.” Altair readjusted his hold and checked his watch once more. Roz should be in place. “You should have enough here for the ten of you.”

  The device adhered to the inside of his ball cap allowed Roz to hear him. He hadn’t wanted anything in his ear, for he didn’t want to set anything off if they’d upped their security. If there were more in the house, she would have to find them.

  He placed the carrier on the kitchen counter and rested his hands on top. The two stared at him. “Money,” Altair said. “That comes first, then I give you the pizza
s.”

  Thug Two dug for his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. “Keep the change.”

  Altair counted it and shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks.” He withdrew the ten boxes and stacked them beside him. “Enjoy.” He lifted the much lighter insulators and walked back in the direction of the door. “Night.”

  Men and women both brushed by him to get to the pizza he’d just delivered and he realized they weren’t paying attention to him now. Perfect. He’d been counting down in his head so when Roz turned the lights off, he ducked into the nearest closet, armed himself then stepped back out.

  They had generators that had kicked in, for the lights had come back on. More people poured out from the second floor and opened fire on him. Ducking, he returned the gesture.

  Arrows thudded into people faster than he could fire his M-4. He caught a glimpse of Roz as she battled with two men on the second floor balcony. She flowed with purpose and grace—all of it deadly. They fell within moments to her blades. Four replaced the two and he realized, in that second, she hadn’t been joking when she’d told him it was like an endless wave of mindless lemmings.

  Aware she could handle herself, Altair got to doing what he did best. Taking lives. He had cuts and minor injuries by the time only Thug One was left.

  As Roz joined him on the first floor and covered him with her bow and arrow, he put a new magazine in the Desert Eagle. “What now?” he asked.

  “Where’re your computers?”

  “Fuck you, bitch!” Thug One spat.

  Altair had a hard time not flinching when she released the arrow and it embedded into the man’s groin. The scream that filled the room was overwhelming in its agony.

  “I don’t like asking more than once.”

  He chambered a round and focused on the man’s white face instead of the blood dripping down to hit the floor.

  “Basement.” The word was strangled from his throat as he tried not to break down in front of them.

  Altair looked at Roz, who never took her gaze or arrow from the man in the chair. This woman wasn’t the lawyer he’d seen or the fun loving one either. She bore a look he knew well. This was all about doing what had to be done in order to save those she loved. “Want me to check it out?”

 

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