Brotherhood Protectors: GUARDIAN ANGEL (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

“She’s supposed to be flying to Bozeman, right?” Hank said. “When is she supposed to be in?”

  “She’s supposed to arrive about eleven-thirty tonight,” Sam replied.

  “Direct flight?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s a three-and-a-half-hour flight and there is an hour difference in the time zone,” he said. “That means her flight would leave Chicago about seven-thirty tonight. Give me her travel details and I’ll pull some strings and find out if she makes it on the flight. If she doesn’t make it on the plane, you can start to worry.”

  Sam gave him the flight information and checked his watch. The flight departure was several hours away.

  “Do me a favor, Hank,” Sam said. “Ping the phone again in an hour. Let’s see if she’s stationary or on the move.”

  “You got it,” he said. “I hope everything’s ok.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder,” he said.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rainhorse pulled the vehicle off the road, behind a large tree, positioning the cab of the SUV directly behind the tree, blocking the line of sight from the direction of the shot.

  He believed the shot was fired from an old run-down barn that looked all but ready to collapse. How in the hell did Barnabas figure out the path they were on so soon, he wondered? Had he missed something? Questions for another time, he thought. He surveyed the situation.

  There was a small house about a hundred feet from the barn. The “For Sale” sign at the end of the drive near the main road led him to believe the house was empty. The barn and the house were the only signs of civilization he saw. He had not even seen a passing car for the last twenty minutes.

  The girl had heard the shot and seen blood on his arm. She was becoming hysterical.

  “Look,” he said. “It’s a flesh wound. “I’ll be all right.”

  “We won’t be all right,” she wailed. “Someone is shooting at us.”

  “I know, and I can handle it.”

  “You can?”

  “I can. I’m sure of it,” he lied. He wasn’t sure by any means.

  “How?”

  “Ok, you see that gully about fifty yards ahead of us?”

  “Yes.”

  “That gulley was formed by a stream,” he said. “It looks to be about seven to ten feet deep. It winds around near the barn. That’s where the shooter is. I’m going to use the tree line to protect myself until I reach the gulley.”

  “No! No!” she protested. “You can’t leave me here. You can’t leave me alone.”

  “It will only be a few minutes,” he said, lying again.

  “Let’s just drive really fast,” she pleaded.

  “It won’t work,” Rainhorse replied. “It’s too open and the shooter’s position is solid. He can pick us off, or he can shoot out our tires and leave us out in the open. We’d be sitting ducks. I need you to trust me.”

  “No, I don’t want you to go,” she screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I don’t want to sit here alone.”

  Rainhorse chose to ignore her. The clock was ticking, “Do you have a watch?”

  She shook her head, no.

  He pulled his watch off and handed it to her, “This was my father’s Rolex Submariner. It’s very old and very dear to me. I’m trusting you with it. I’ll be back for it.”

  “Ok,” she said, seeming to gain a little composure.

  “Look at the time. If I’m not back in thirty minutes, I want you to…”

  “No! You said you could deal with it,” she cried out.

  “And I will, but there’s an old saying, ‘Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.’ If I’m not back in thirty minutes, I want you to take off on foot as fast as you can away from the barn.”

  “Into the woods?”

  “Right. Try to keep out of his sight. Use the trees for coverage. Keep running as fast as you possibly can. Run until you see a house. Call the police.”

  “How far is a house, do you think?”

  “No more than fifteen minutes,” Rainhorse lied. He had no idea. “I have to go now.”

  He cocked his pistol.

  “You come back, please,” Lindsay begged.

  “I have no intention of dying today,” he said. “I promised you I’d get you back home. I will keep that promise. Remember, thirty minutes.”

  She nodded.

  Rainhorse disappeared into the tree line and moved toward the gulley. He paused long enough to check out the barn. He saw the most likely area where the shooter would be, in the window of the barn’s loft. With any luck he could move along the gully adjacent to the barn, enter through the back entrance and surprise the shooter.

  He moved deftly through the gulley and approached the rear door of the barn, opening it slowly and quietly. Inside he saw the ladder leading to the loft. He took it. At the top of the ladder, he saw the shooter. He recognized the man instantly. It was Ray Pelt, one of Barnabas’s flunkies, an ex-military sniper. The man was using his scope to stalk the SUV. He’d actually worked with the man on a couple of jobs. Pelt was oblivious to Rainhorse’s presence.

  “Hey Pelt,” Rainhorse barked on his approach, “drop the weapon.”

  Pelt spun toward the Cheyenne assassin but the rifle was unwieldy. He saw that Rainhorse had his pistol trained on his forehead and allowed the rifle to fall from his hands.

  “Kick the rifle away,” Rainhorse commanded, “then put your hands behind your head.”

  Pelt complied.

  “How did you find us?”

  “I know you’re going to kill me. I’m not saying shit to you.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I am going to kill you, but if you tell me what I want to know, I won’t kill Gloria and… Jane, is it?”

  “You stay away from my wife and daughter, you son-of-a-bitch!” Pelt barked in a rage. He took a step toward Rainhorse.

  “You know I don’t want to hurt them,” he said, “but I will if you don’t start talking. And you know it. Now tell me how Barnabas knew where I was at.”

  “Dammit,” Pelt bellowed.

  “Now, Pelt.”

  “Look, I’ll help you, but you have to let me go and promise not to hurt my family.”

  “No to the first and yes to the second. You know the score, Pelt. Even if I let you go, Barnabas would kill you and your family, both. This way, you’ll be killed in the line of duty. Barnabas won’t go after your wife and daughter. Hell, he might even toss a little money their way. Take it or leave it. Answer my questions and don’t lie. You know damn well I can smell bullshit a mile away. If I get the tiniest sense you’re lying to me, I’ll kill them both and have a steak dinner in your house before I leave. You got me?”

  He sighed; tears formed in his eyes. He nodded.

  “Start talking,” Rainhorse said. “How did Barnabas find me?”

  “The girl’s cell phone is on, you dumbass,” Pelt snarked. “He triangulated the signal.”

  Rainhorse flashed back to what he believed was the last known location of the phone. It was on the counter in the kitchen. She must have grabbed it and turned it on before getting into the SUV.

  “Is the FBI involved yet?” Rainhorse asked.

  “Not the last I heard,” Pelt said.

  “Does Barnabas know what car I’m driving?”

  “Yeah, when we tracked the cell signal to Peotone, Barnabas cross-referenced it to vehicles reported stolen. There was only one.”

  Rainhorse nodded; it made sense.

  “I told you what you wanted to know,” Pelt said. “You’ll keep your word?”

  He nodded, “I will. I promise.”

  “When are you supposed to check in with Barnabas?”

  Pelt looked at his watch, “Right now.”

  “Make the call,” the assassin said. “You better sound convincing. Put it on speaker.”

  He nodded and dialed.

  “Barnabas, it’s Pelt,” he said. “The deed is done.”

  “Bullshit,” Barnabas said.
<
br />   Pelt’s face formed a look of shock, “No, seriously. They’re both dead.”

  Barnabas chuckled, “You were never a convincing liar, Pelt. He’s listening to us right now, isn’t he?”

  Rainhorse grabbed the phone.

  “Give it up, Barnabas,” he yelled. “You’re not getting the girl.”

  “You have no choice, you traitorous scumbag,” he bellowed. “No one screws me over and gets away with it. No one. The operation is blown. You have cost me the biggest payday of my life. The question I have is… why?”

  “You know why.”

  Barnabas chuckled, “You want me to believe you’ve cost me tens of millions of dollars and signed your own death warrant in the process—all over a sixteen-year-old spoiled little princess? You aren’t that stupid. What do you say we stop this madness right now? You give up the girl, and we’ll forget all about this.”

  “Even if I didn’t already know you were a lying jackass, I still wouldn’t do it,” Rainhorse replied.

  “I have another idea,” Barnabas said. “I think you’re trying to get the ransom yourself. You’re actually going to try to pull it off and let her live. You’re an idiot, John Rainhorse.”

  “I’ve been told that before. Think what you want. You’ll never hurt her. Not while I’m alive.”

  “Speaking of that, you’ll both be dead, and soon—I know where you are.”

  “Then come and get me,” Rainhorse yelled. He slammed the phone onto the hardwood floor. It broke into a dozen pieces.

  “Tell me something, Rainhorse,” Pelt said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why did you really do it?”

  He didn’t answer. Pelt smiled and nodded.

  “You did this to save her, didn’t you? You’ve signed your own death warrant to save a sixteen-year-old girl you’d never met before yesterday?”

  “Right now, I’m thinking about it,” he replied. “I’m a little pissed that she brought her phone and hid it from me.”

  “I don’t know why you’d do this,” Pelt said.

  “You should understand. You have a daughter.”

  “To tell you the truth, I kind of admire you for it.”

  “That won’t save you.”

  He nodded, “I know. Best of luck to you all the same. I hope you get the girl home safe.”

  Rainhorse nodded, then shot Pelt in the center of his forehead.

  He walked back to the SUV and opened the door.

  “Thank god you’re alive!” Lindsay cried out. “I was so worried.”

  “Your phone!” Rainhorse barked. “Hand it to me, now.”

  “What?”

  “You brought your phone with you,” he said. “I thought you were smarter than that. You idiot. That phone almost got us killed.”

  Lindsay’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped open, “Oh my god, I forgot all about it.”

  “Bullshit! What was your plan? You were going to call the FBI and have them trace us through the GPS, weren’t you?”

  “No, really, I swear.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Maybe I should just cut you loose—let you out on your own.”

  “No, they know where we are. They’ll find me. They’ll kill me.”

  “How is that my problem? You know, if I were on my own I could get away easily. Right now, you are dragging me down.”

  “You promised to get me home.”

  “That was before you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie. You never asked me if I picked up my phone.”

  “Your splitting hairs. Get out.”

  “No, I’m not getting out.”

  “Convince me why I should keep you with me.”

  “Look, if I truly brought the phone to have the FBI find us, I would have called them while you were in that barn, right?”

  Rainhorse paused, looking at her. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and handed it to him.

  “Look at the log, check for yourself,” she said.

  He took the phone and looked at the phone and text message logs. No calls or texts were made.

  “You could have erased it,” he said.

  “You’ve been gone less than thirty minutes,” she countered. “I didn’t use the phone at all. I swear. I just forgot it was in my pocket. You have to believe me. Please don’t leave me out here all alone.”

  Rainhorse didn’t reply.

  “Look,” she continued. “I know I screwed up, and I know I got you shot, but I can’t do this by myself. I need you, Jackson. I swear I will do anything you say going forward.”

  Rainhorse sighed. If he left her there, the girl would be dead within an hour, two tops.

  She leaned in slightly, “Please, Jackson.”

  “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

  Lindsay sat back in the seat. She wanted to cry but there were no more tears left.

  Two full minutes went by before Rainhorse spoke. Finally…

  “Give me back my watch,” he said.

  She handed it to him, “What kind of a watch doesn’t have a date on it, anyway?”

  He glared at her.

  “You’ll do as I say?” he asked.

  “Anything. I swear.”

  “No games? No tricks?”

  She shook her head.

  “Here’s the situation,” he began. “Barnabas knows where we are, now. He’ll be coming for us. This little trip has taken on a whole new level of danger. If you want me to get you out of this, I need you to do something—something big. Think you can handle it?”

  “Yes, I’ll do anything, I swear,” she promised. “Just tell me.”

  “I’m worried that your mother will report you missing to the FBI soon,” he said. “I can’t deal with the FBI and Barnabas, both.”

  “What can I do?”

  “How good are your acting skills?” he asked. “Can you get your mother to believe you?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m a teenager. I am a master at bullshitting my mother.”

  “This phone of yours, does it have a speaker phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ok, here’s what I need you to do,” he said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Sam!” Vandy cried out, rushing into the barn. “Sam, where are you?”

  “I’m here, Vandy,” Sam called back. “Settle down. What’s up?”

  “I just got off the phone with Lindsay,” she said, breathlessly. She smiled, “She’s ok. She’s fine.”

  She embraced Sam, giving him a long, warm kiss.

  “Thank god,” Sam said. “Where is she?”

  “She’s with her new boyfriend, Steve. They’re on the road. They’re driving here.”

  “Driving? All the way from Chicago? That’s a twenty-hour drive. You allowed a sixteen-year-old to drive across country with a boy you don’t know?”

  “It wasn’t my first choice,” she said, “but she is so willful and independent. I was just so grateful she was ok.”

  “Did she say why they were driving and not flying?”

  “She said she wanted to take in some of the countryside.”

  “Why is she even bringing this guy along?”

  “She wants me to meet him. I thought it was sweet.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, skeptically.

  “The important thing is, she is safe and well,” Vandy insisted. “I’ll give her a piece of my mind with regard to how she handled this when I see her, but for now I’m just really relieved.”

  Sam sighed, and nodded, “I imagine so.”

  “So, we can relax now,” she said, smiling at him.

  “I guess.”

  She slid into him and hugged him warmly, allowing her finger to gently brush over his rock-hard abdomen. She looked up at him with those magnetic eyes, eyes that always made Sam melt.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She smiled, “What do you say we go into the house and relax… properly. We have several hours before she is here.”

  He smiled back, “
How do I say no to that?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “She fell for it,” Lindsay said. “I told you she would.”

  Rainhorse nodded, “Yep, you’re good.”

  “I don’t understand why I needed to call her landline rather than her cell,” Lindsay said.

  “Barnabas could be listening in on her cell,” Rainhorse replied. “He cloned her phone, remember?”

  “Why didn’t he clone my cell?” she wondered.

  “You were in London, out of reach.”

  “You know, my mom will think it’s unusual for me to call her on the landline,” Lindsay countered.

  “We’ll have to risk it.”

  “How did you even know about Steve?” she asked.

  “It was all in the background information Barnabas dug up on you,” he said. “We knew you had a boyfriend named Steve, and we knew your mother didn’t know about him.”

  “Jesus, what else did you people find out about me?” she asked.

  “Everything. I can tell you what you had for dinner last Saturday at that Indian restaurant in London you and Steve went to. I can also tell you what color thong you bought at Harrods when you went shopping last.”

  Lindsay threw up her arms in the air, “Ahhh. Gross. TMI! TMI!”

  “You asked.”

  “I don’t understand why we are headed back in the direction we came.”

  “Two reasons. One, it’s the one direction that Barnabas won’t think to come looking for us.”

  “And two?”

  “I have another idea, and it involves the truck stop we passed about ten minutes before we got shot at.”

  He handed her the phone, “Keep this turned off.”

  “You trust me with the phone?”

  He nodded, “Don’t make me sorry.”

  “I won’t. What about the truck stop?”

  “No time to explain. There it is. Just follow my lead.” he said. He pulled into the truck stop and found a parking spot in front of the restaurant, the Old Caboose Diner.

  “Roger that, boss man,” Lindsay said with a faux salute and a hint of attitude.

  “Hand me my coat from the back. I need to cover up this bloody arm.”

  She reached in the back and handed him the jacket.

  “You need medical attention,” she said, noting the angry appearance of the wound.