by J. L. Drake
God, I missed my brothers already.
Brick’s chest heaved while he patted his pocket for his smokes. He pulled them out and cursed at the damp, crushed mess.
“I blame you.” He shook the box into his hand and showed me the cigarettes.
“You’re welcome. They were wet, anyway,” I muttered and suddenly tuned in to a new sound.
“If I was Rail, you’d be getting a mouthful right…” He trailed off when he realized I wasn’t listening. “What?”
“Shh,” I ordered and closed my eyes to block out all the white noise. The sound of pebbles scraping over sand made me hyperaware we were about to have company.
Static from a radio had us both frozen mid-move, and Brick motioned with his eyes that someone was approaching from behind me. He moved his weapon, but I shook my head. If there were more cartel around, we needed to stay quiet. I pulled my knife from my belt where it was hidden in the buckle. It was small, I knew, but it could be just as effective as a bullet if used correctly.
Brick spread out his hand and silently counted down to when I should make my move.
Three.
Two.
One.
I darted from the protection of the ditch and rammed my knife into someone’s ribs, and when he fell, I kneed his face then carefully lowered his heavy body down to Brick, who dug through his pockets like a grave robber. He grinned when he found a half pack of smokes.
I felt the bullet graze my cheek a hair of a second before I heard the click as the bullet left the chamber.
“Shit!” That was close.
Brick shot up pulled me back down and stared into my face.
“You good?”
“We need to move.” Hot flames burned my face. It had been a close one, but I knew it was only a flesh wound.
We stayed low and worked our way along the ditch, but when we came to a storm drain, Brick hesitated.
“Anything could be in there,” he hissed.
“But we know what’s out there, so get on your knees and crawl.”
“You know that came out sexual, don’t you?”
I pushed his back and shot him forward just as we heard footsteps.
I tried my hardest not to think what was living inside the steel tube, considering not many of these were around the area. When we got to the other side, we raced toward the gas station, only to be greeted with more bullets.
“Jesus Christ!” Brick skidded as the bullets kicked up the dirt around him. “Plan B would be a great option right now, Black!”
“Truck!” I tossed at him. A semi-truck had just finished at the pump. “Come on!” I picked up the pace and closed in on the trucker getting into the driver’s side.
The engine roared to life, and so did Brick. He yelled he’d been hit. I reached back and grabbed his leather cut to pull him up behind me and cursed as he dropped his gun.
“The fuckers got my leg!”
I quickly glanced down and saw the blood draining from his calf.
Shit.
More bullets sprayed in our direction, which prompted the trucker to floor it, shifting gears out of the parking lot. I caught his face in the mirror and awkwardly ripped the top of my patch off to show we were Americans. I swore something passed between us, because the truck slowed slightly but then began to accelerate as I grabbed the handle to the massive back door and hauled Brick up on the small ledge with me. I looked back and saw the cartel, who now seemed to be arguing as one guy pointed in the opposite direction while another pointed at us. Why weren’t they scrambling into their vehicles to follow the truck?
“You good?” I hit his shoulder to get his attention. He was drenched in sweat, and mud and leaves clung to his clothes.
“Yeah,” he grunted as he tried to shift to a better spot.
The trucker took a couple of turns, which I hoped would throw the cartel off. Our fingers were white and cramped by the time we hit the next town. After a sharp turn, the truck took a side road and slowed almost to a crawl. I took it as a sign he wanted us to know this was far enough. I didn’t want to push our luck, so I took hold of Brick’s arm and nudged us off the step, not wanting to put the driver in any more danger. Brick stumbled, and I grabbed him before he did a face plant into the dirt.
“Jesus, warn a guy,” he gasped as he tried to regain his feet.
“Sorry, man. We were lucky to get a lift this far.” I pulled him to cover in some bushes until I felt the road was clear. I spotted what looked to be a run-down diner not far away, and we made our way slowly toward it.
The place had a strange vibe to it when we entered. I helped Brick to a chair as two employees quickly disappeared into the back. I kept an eye on the door as I pulled a piece of clean cloth from the supply in one of my pockets and wrapped his leg as tightly as I could.
“Yeah, that hurts,” he complained, but I knew he was going to be fine.
“A bullet will do that.” I stood back and examined the gash in my side. I stuck a field dressing on it then bound it in place.
“What don’t you have on you?” Brick tried to laugh but coughed with a wince as he tested the leg.
“When you do the shit we do, you get lots of good stuff.”
A movement caused me to whirl around at the same time as I pulled out my knife and held it ready.
“Whoa, there. Take it easy, fella. You guys need any help?” The guy gestured at his pocket, and with a nod from me, he inched out his ID and held it up. “Agent Cooper Collins, FBI.”
“Recon John Black.” I lowered my knife and offered my hand. He gave me a firm handshake, and I relaxed a little. I was damn glad he was here. I noticed a ring on his right hand that looked a little flashy for an FBI agent but figured I couldn’t judge, considering I was helping a repeat offender in the one percent club.
“This is a friend.” I indicated Brick, whose face showed a distinct lack of friendliness.
“Well, looks like you both have seen better days. Need a phone?”
“Please.” I took the phone he held out and quickly dialed a secure number. The agent shook his head at some lowlifes who were slowly moving toward us. Who the hell was this guy?
I focused back on what I was doing, and as the phone rang, I finally activated my personal GPS.
“Go,” someone answered.
“This is Recon John Black, ID 135241493,” I paused and gave my code word, “clear.”
“Code word verified. Give your location.”
There was a moment of silence while someone typed in the number to see who it was assigned to on this mission.
“Did you activate yourself?” He cleared his throat like he wanted to say more, but we both knew he couldn’t.
“Affirmative.” I glanced down at my watch to see the tiny green light that showed it was working.
“You need medical?”
“Negative for me, and I also activated a second tracker,” I glanced at Brick and saw he was now glaring at the agent, “but yes, I will need medical for one I need to get out. I’d like to make a request to stay put.”
There was a pause. “Give me a moment.”
I moved to the window and scanned the place to see if our company had arrived. All looked clear, not that that meant anything. They were slimy suckers and knew the land better than I did.
“In twenty-four hours, meet at checkpoint two. Clock starts now. Leave your company where you are someone is on the way.”
“Second tracker confirmed.”
“Ten-four.”
“Ten-four.” The line went dead.
“Wait.” Brick propped himself up against the wall after I told him I was out. “You’re leaving me here with a fucking FBI agent and some John Gotti-looking assholes?” Sweat dripped from his forehead, and he looked pissed. “I’d rather be back with the fucker on the cliff.” He tried to stand, but I pushed him back down.
“Irons is on his way. He’ll get you back to Cali,” I whispered.
“Look, I don’t want to sound like a puss
y, but—”
“Then don’t,” I interrupted.
“Shit, at least Mike is friendly.”
I ignored him and stood to check my wounds. The gauze was holding fine on my side and arm. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I dabbed at the blood on my cheek and figured I was ready.
“You can’t go out emptyhanded.” Agent Collins passed me a handgun with three clips. It bothered me that he’d overheard my conversation with Brick, but I was thankful for the weapon.
“Thank you.” I gave a curt nod and glanced at Brick. He still looked pissed, and it was obvious he didn’t like being so close to the FBI agent. “Will you be here for long?”
“No,” Collins checked the time, “we’re following a subject who’s now on the move again.” He signaled for his men to stand. “Good luck, Black.”
“Same to you.” I watched them leave the diner and turned back to Brick. “Happy?”
“I’d be happier if you got me a drink and a lighter.”
I tucked the gun away and stored the extra mags in my pocket. I leaned down and took one last look at Brick’s leg.
“Why were you in Mexico?”
“I told you—”
“I don’t want your bullshit answer.”
His gaze shifted, and his expression was pissed again.
I wanted to beat it out of him, but I was losing time. “Logan and Irons have been good to you,” I held up a hand to stop him from interrupting, “and you’ve been good to us. I just want to make sure you aren’t involved in something that will hurt this operation.”
“It wasn’t me who screwed up your operation. Mine was completely unrelated.” His gaze returned to mine, and I saw he was being honest.
“Okay.” I stood and checked the time.
Shit, I’d wasted eighteen minutes.
“Irons should be here soon, but keep watch in case those sons-of-bitches show up. You good? I don’t like it you don’t have a weapon. Keep your head down.”
“Yeah, no shit. Me either, but,” he smacked his leg, “I’ll be just dandy.” Then his expression changed, and his smile turned genuine. “Thanks for the help out there.”
“Same to you. Stay alive.” With that, I left and scoped out the area before I slipped into the tall weeds that would be my protection as I raced back toward the last location I’d known my team had been.
Nightfall came just as I reached the top of the cliff Brick and I had been on earlier. The man I had slipped the tracking device on was gone. I knew wherever they were, they still could be close by. My fingers inched across the rock to get a strong hold before I lifted myself up and twisted to sit on a high peak.
I had a solid nine hours before my team came to retrieve me. Now I would sit and listen to who came and went. My gut told me there was much more to this story than we knew.
Once the sun peeked above the horizon and the stars faded away, I started my descent from the cliff to the next checkpoint. Sadly, nothing was spotted, and I needed to move on. It wasn’t long before my watch vibrated to get my attention. It was time to haul ass.
A single loud bang echoed through the air, and the sound waves traveled through my chest. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to follow that sound.
Moving as quietly as I could, I struggled not to let my mind think it was one of my brothers. I saw the body lying face down. He was stripped of all his clothes except his boxers. A signature move of the cartel, along with a single bullet to the back of the head.
I dropped to my knees and rolled over his badly beaten body. I recognized the poor rookie. He was only twenty-two, fresh out of school, and was our target to find. Someone had helped him get a hookup to join North Rock, and against all of Frank’s protests, he was overruled from somewhere higher up. I remembered his anger over it when he had to let the boy in when we all knew he wasn’t ready.
The no brother left behind mantra kept racing through my mind.
I wrapped his arm around my shoulder and slipped him over my back to carry him to the checkpoint.
The chopper blades beat the trees, and as it lowered into a secured area, I stepped out and caught Chamness’s horrified face. I raced across to the chopper and handed the kid to him.
“Who is it?” Mark asked as he grabbed for my arm.
“Nick Stewart.”
“The rookie operator?” I nodded before he asked, “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head in spite of his raised eyebrow at the blood seeping from the hole in my side and settled into the seat next to him. I watched as the men carefully covered the kid and started the protocol by calling it in. Chamness cursed and closed his eyes. The loss of any man was hard, but it hurt even more when we all knew this had been the wrong place and team for the rookie.
Frank was going to flip his shit over that one, because he knew he wasn’t ready to be on the team.
Chamness finished loading up his sack with more ammo and rations before he disappeared back into the Mexican forest to find the rest of his team.
I settled in for the long flight home, and my head hung with fatigue. I draped my arms around my propped-up knees and felt the heaviness in my heart. I needed to sort through what the hell just happened.
My head still spun by the time I arrived back at Shadows and made my way up to my room. I barely remembered my shower or how I even got changed before sleep called my name.
The moment my head hit my pillow at Shadows, I was out cold. I faintly remembered Mia saying something, but I couldn’t focus enough to listen. I needed sleep badly, and then I needed time to process.
***
“Is he dead?” I heard Shit One’s little squeak from the doorway.
“Nah, he isn’t gray yet,” Shit Two hissed.
“You mean blue?”
“Gray means dead for good.”
I cracked open an eye and glared at Mark’s twins as I licked the inside of my dry mouth. Screw the troubled twos, when you were a Lopez, six was the dangerous age.
“Should we poke him just in case?”
“No! Remember what happened last time?” Liam warned. “He hung us from Abby’s clothesline and left us there until Mom heard us screaming.”
I smirked at that delightful memory and tried to muffle my laugh.
“Oh, shoot!” Liam yelped. “He’s awake. Run!”
“Boys!” I heard Mia shout from the hallway. “You better be ready for school, and you better not be not bothering Uncle John.”
“We’re not!” they both lied together.
“Move it,” she warned with a sigh. Poor Mia was exhausted a lot lately. Tabby was two and a handful in her own right.
I rolled out of bed, and the reality of the past two days hit me like a ton of bricks. I slipped on my pants and headed to get my day moving. I was good with heavy shit. I’d dealt with enough of it to know I was, but last night’s mission went wrong very fast, and I knew something was definitely off.
Chapter Two
Sloane
“Sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to have happen, Sloane.” Frank offered me a hand as the tips of my heels found their footing in the loose gravel. “Where is Logan?” He shaded his eyes and scanned the property. “It’s like herding cats with these men.” He chuckled with a grin. I could tell he preferred to be here rather than in Washington, and I could understand why. I mimicked him and shaded the tops of my glasses against the glare and took in the breathtaking view of the famous Shadows safe house. I’d always known this place existed, but I never thought I would be brought here, especially under these circumstances.
“Trust me, Frank,” I grinned when I saw the lake and heard a loon call off in the distance, “I am not complaining.” This was the better option. A cool breeze brushed over my exposed skin and swirled the ties on my jacket.
I missed the wide-open spaces of the country and the fresh clean smell that came with the mountains. I really needed to get out of the city more often. Well, I guessed I was now; I just wished—
“
Ready for some madness?” He broke into my thoughts.
“Bring it on.” I forced a smile and followed him up a staircase and into a delicious-smelling entryway. Was that nutmeg? My mouth started to water.
“May I take your jacket?”
I shrugged out of the heavy wool pea coat and handed it to him, and a chubby white cat flopped on his back and spread his legs, awaiting attention.
“Take my advice and don’t touch it.” He wrinkled his nose at the cat. “He’s a shameless flirt who only has eyes for Savannah.”
“Good to know.” I avoided eye contact as I stepped over the meowing fur ball.
“Follow me.” He led me through the entryway and into a massive living room. An older lady dressed in a pair of slacks and a green sweater greeted us with a warm smile.
“Welcome back, Frank.”
“Abigail.” He gave a polite nod before he turned to me. “I want to introduce you to Sloane Harlow. She’ll be staying with you for a little bit.”
I held out my hand, but she wrapped her arms around me instead. At first, I was taken aback, but her warmth was so infectious I hugged her back just as tightly.
“Lovely to meet you, Abigail.”
“Any friend of Frank’s is a friend of ours.” Her love for people poured from her, and I instantly missed my mother.
Frank whirled around when a nice-looking man came in. “Logan, where’s Black?”
“Peak,” he said through a bite of an apple and tapped on a tank that held a lively fish with weird eyes.
“Shit, seriously?” Frank muttered.
“Pardon me?” Abby turned to Cole, and to my surprise, spoke to him bluntly. “You let him go to the peak? He just got home, and he was shot, for goodness sake.”
“He must need it.”
“Still, Cole.” She rubbed her cheek, obviously worried.
Cole shrugged, unfazed by her comment. I hadn’t had much time to brush up on the Blackstone men. I had just finished up my last case and was told to stop everything and meet Frank at the airport in only two days and to bring enough clothes to last me awhile. Once I was in the air, I was told where I was going and why, and even though I was beyond upset with the decision being made for me, I knew I didn’t have a choice. I knew he was right, but I still didn’t like being told to pack up and move without a say in the matter.