Chapter Sixteen
Logan gripped the wheel hard as they approached the end of his property. The dust was thick and blinding. Jody had her M4 locked and loaded with a large clip in it. He trusted her with his life. She had been a medic who carried a weapon just like this in Afghanistan and was an expert shooter. His M4 was strapped to a rifle rack at the back of the truck window. Jody was on the phone with the sheriff.
“They’re just now getting to that turnoff from the highway,” she informed Logan with satisfaction.
“Good. I think they’ve made that left turn . . .” He slowed, knowing that turn was coming up. As they came to a crawl, he saw through the flash of headlights that the gate had been broken into and was wide open. The rooster tail of dust went to the left. “They’re now on that side road,” he growled, wheeling around the corner and slamming his foot down on the accelerator. “Tell Lea to back off and stay behind at this gate until and if we tell her to come forward. I don’t trust these guys. Once they see flashing lights at their escape point—that highway—they’re gonna do something, and I don’t know what that might be.”
Jody nodded, getting in touch with Lea, relaying Logan’s orders. “I’m going to connect with the sheriff again,” she said, ending the call with Lea. “We need to know if they’ve put their cruisers in a position to stop them or not.”
“These dudes don’t have any other place to go,” Logan grunted. “There’s barbed wire fence along both sides of this road. There’s a six-foot culvert and cow grate at the other end. They either crash into those cruisers, or stop and surrender, or it will turn into a firefight.”
“Roger that,” Jody said grimly, connecting with the sheriff, who was now on the scene. After some back and forth, she said, “Two cruisers are pointed nose forward like a wedge. The third cruiser is behind them, as a buttress. Those dudes will either try to break through them or they’re gonna stop and fight.”
Mouth slashing, Logan muttered, “No telling what they’ll do. Get on the horn to Lea and then Barry. I want to know if they’ve been able to stop that fire from going into my home.”
“Roger that.”
Logan focused as never before. He didn’t dare let his emotions get the better of him. The road was rough and he was forced to slow to fifty miles an hour, for fear of arcing the truck out of one of these nasty ruts and going airborne. The dust was just as thick in front of him, telling him that the arsonists had slowed down as well. His mind switched to Lea. He wanted her to remain at the gate. An M4 bullet had a long reach. He wanted her out of danger. Damn! He loved her! And he didn’t want to lose her.
“Barry says the fire is bad. The woodshed and garage are gone. They’re working to stop it from entering the main house.”
Grimly, he nodded. “Did Lea say she’d stay at the gate?”
“Yes.”
Relief flowed through his tight gut. “Good.”
“Logan, there’s only a mile left until we hit that T-intersection,” Jody warned in a low voice.
“Yeah, I know it. Call the sheriff again. Let him know our position. I’m sure they can see their headlights by now . . .” He gripped the wheel, feeling danger swirling around them, like a bolt of lightning being thrown into their midst.
“Your M4 is locked and loaded, large mag, safety off,” she reported, contacting the sheriff.
“Thanks,” he grunted. He’d only had time to grab his black baseball cap, the bill somewhat shielding his eyes as the dust reflected back on the high beams of the roaring truck shaking and shuddering around them. The ruts were getting really bad! He didn’t want to slow, but he had to or else.
“They’re ready for them. The SWAT team just arrived and they are in place, as well.”
“That’s good,” he growled.
Suddenly, dirt clods and rocks flew at them.
Logan slammed on the brakes. His truck skidded sideways and he fought for control.
“They’ve crashed!” Jody yelled. “I just saw their truck fly off for a second!”
“Which side?” he snapped.
“To the right!” She grabbed at the cell as it flew across her and hit the passenger door. Leaning down, she groped until she found it, the truck still skidding, Logan trying to stop it from crashing or sliding off the road.
Logan straightened out the nose of his truck, skidding to an abrupt halt.
“Where are they?” he yelled, putting the truck in park, twisting around, grabbing the M4 off the rack.
“To the right. I see lights about three hundred feet ahead of us, one o’clock, Logan.”
“Bail!” he ordered, grabbing his M4 and shoving open the door, hunkering down, keeping his body out of the line of fire in case they had weapons.
It was dark. All he could see in the wall of dust now slowly moving away from the road, was headlights piercing the night to the right at one o’clock from their position. He heard Jody telling the sheriff what happened, giving him the GPS coordinates.
Before he could do anything, the chut-chut-chut of gunfire rippled through the night, putting holes, literally, through the dust clouds that rose ten feet in the air between them and their enemy.
“Stay down,” Logan ordered Jody, who was kneeling at the passenger-side end of the truck bed. She had her M4 up, ready to fire.
He came up behind her, breathing hard, his eyes slitted. The arsonists’ overturned truck was less than three hundred feet away from them. The driver had lost control and the vehicle had flipped into the five-strand barbed-wire fence, tearing the fence open for a good thirty feet, posts scattered around it like toothpicks. The dust cleared.
“Body-heat lens,” he ordered Jody, flipping one scope down and bringing the other up. The beauty of the M4 was that it could carry three different types of scopes. The infrared scope would show body heat as well as the human form of whoever he had drawn a bead on. In this darkness, it was the only thing they could use. Lifting the M4, he remained below the truck top. “Four of ’em,” he rasped. “Tell the sheriff. We’re going to keep them pinned down until SWAT can arrive.”
“Roger,” Jody rasped, cell phone to ear.
More bullets poured into the truck. Metal popped. The screech of a bullet being fired, tearing through it, filled the air.
“Sheriff says do not return fire unless necessary,” Jody called over her shoulder.
“Roger that,” he said, watching the red-orange blobs that reminded him of Gumby, the clay figure, scattering around from one side of the arsonists’ overturned truck. “I still count four.”
“I’ll let them know,” Jody said, relaying the intel.
“Moving to the other side and to the front left fender,” he told her. “You hold this position.”
“Roger.”
Sweat dribbled down his hard features as he crouched and ran forward. Up ahead, once he knelt one knee on the ground, he could see headlights coming toward them. The SWAT van would be first. He knew the men and women on that team. They were well trained and more than prepared for something like this. He felt naked because neither he nor Jody were wearing a protective Kevlar vest that could save their lives. He made a mental check to buy some if they got out of this alive.
“LOOK OUT!” Jody yelled.
Gunfire erupted everywhere around him. Logan cursed, seeing the four men rushing forward, toward them. They obviously didn’t know that Logan and Jody had weapons, too.
“Shoot to injure if you can,” he yelled at Jody.
Damn it! Raising his M4, he sighted on the closest man, at least six feet tall, racing toward them. They must have thought that they were going to take this truck and still try to escape! Like hell they were! Squeezing the trigger, he aimed for the man’s leg.
There was a scream, and the enemy flew three feet into the air, jerked backwards, the rifle he was carrying, flying out of his hands.
A second shot, this time Jody firing.
Logan hoped that they would stop trying to steal this truck.
A second man flew into the air.
The other two stopped, hesitated, looked toward their truck, and then at Logan’s, once more.
“Don’t try it!” Logan bellowed loud enough for them to hear. They were less than two hundred feet away from them.
Without warning, one man pulled something from his vest, tossing it their way.
“Grenade!” Logan yelled to Jody, throwing himself on the ground, hitting the dirt hard, mouth open.
No one could throw something two hundred feet, and Logan knew it as he jammed his eyes shut as he hit the earth. But a grenade could do major damage. Dammit! He hadn’t counted on that type of weapon at all.
He saw Jody slam to the earth, too, her M4 in her hand, her other hand over her head. They had no body armor on, no helmets to protect themselves from this fierce and lethal firefight.
The only thing Logan thought about in those seconds before the grenade exploded, was that Lea was far enough behind and safe.
“Logan!” Jody yelled.
The grenade went off.
The concussion wave threw Logan into the air. He rolled, keeping a grip on his rifle. How was Jody? He got to his knees, shaking his head, his ears ringing so badly he could hardly hear anything. He gripped the M4, waiting for the two men to show up.
Jody appeared around the rear of the truck.
“Logan! They’re running away! Down the road, back toward the ranch!” She jerked her hand to indicate behind where they were parked.
No! He straightened, keeping his rifle ready, joining Jody. He couldn’t see the men, so he lifted his rifle, sighting their fleeing bodies as they hotfooted it down the road. Right toward a truck that was coming up rapidly. What the hell! It had to be Lea! His heart sank. She hadn’t stayed at the gate!
“Get the sheriff!!” he told Jody.
“The cell is dead. It doesn’t work.” She wiped away blood from her nostrils with her hand. “They’re heading to take that truck comin’ up behind us!”
“It’s got to be Lea,” he snarled. “I told her to stay behind!”
Jody cursed. “It has to be her. No one else is that close to where we’re at.”
“We’ve got to stop them! There’s no way for us to get ahold of her!” Logan muttered.
Logan took off running, Jody on his heels. They stayed far enough apart so if one was shot, the other wouldn’t be. Both had been well trained in combat. Lea was less than half a mile away! Well within the enemy’s rifle range.
“Take ’em down!” he yelled at Jody. Because if they didn’t? The arsonists would capture Lea, possibly killing her and stealing her truck.
Jody halted, took a stance, and fired. So did he.
They both missed, puffs of dust shooting into the air.
Again! He was shaking with adrenaline and he wasn’t accurate. They fired again.
Missed!
Wanting to scream in frustration, Logan saw Lea braking. He saw the two men firing across the hood on either side of the truck, warning her to stop. The two men were close enough that Logan and Jody couldn’t fire now, for fear of hitting Lea. Sonofabitch! Breath tore out of his open mouth as they dug the toes of their boots into the dry, hardpacked earth and started running.
“She’s bailing!” Jody yelled.
Logan didn’t stop running hard. If Lea could escape, it meant they had a shot at those two bastards. He watched as she flung the door open and then ran into the darkness, into the nearby field. There were shots fired at her.
He couldn’t see anything! If he fired, the M4’s bullets could find Lea. Helplessly, he watched as the two men climbed into the truck. They made a three point turn, jammed down on the accelerator and headed back toward the ranch!
Where was Lea? Anxiously, Logan searched for her. Had the thugs shot her? He slowed, looking around in the darkness, swinging his rifle around, looking through the scope, trying to locate her via the body-heat scope.
There! He saw someone kneeling down in the tall grass next to the barbed wire fence. It had to be Lea!
“Over here, three o’clock,” he yelled to Jody. “I found her!”
They both ran hard, sliding off the road and stumbling into the rocky dirt and weeds.
“Lea!” he cried out, dropping to his knees, releasing the rifle, his arm going around her shoulders.
“I-I’m okay, okay,” she sobbed, straightening, looking at the fleeing truck.
“Are you hurt?” he rasped.
“N-no. I’m so sorry,” she choked out to Logan. “I couldn’t stand waiting at the gate. I-I heard all the guns being fired. I had to come. I-I never thought they’d come after me. They hit the windshield and it shattered in on me. That’s when I braked and bailed.”
He hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, okay,” he breathed raggedly.
Jody joined them. “Logan, here comes SWAT! I’ll flag them down. They have to know these dudes are trying to escape through your ranch.”
“I’ll be okay,” Lea said, breathing raggedly. “Go . . . go help the sheriff . . .”
“Come with us,” he growled, and he hauled her to her feet. She gripped his hand in a death grip. “Ready to run?” he demanded.
“I’ll keep up,” she managed, still breathing hard.
By the time they came back to the vehicle, Jody was out in the center of the road, waving the SWAT truck to a halt. She was giving the commander of the SWAT team the intel, to warn Barry to get everyone, including the firefighters, out of the immediate area to protect them. He ran back to the nearest cruiser behind the black truck. Sheriff Dan Seabert rolled down his window. Logan rapidly told him what had happened.
“Then, your men fighting the fire and our firefighters are in jeopardy because those arsonists will drive right by the ranch house complex in order to get to the main highway.”
“Yes,” Logan said, his voice unsteady. “We have no cell phone left.”
“We’ll call Barry. We’ll try to apprehend them before they get there, but it’s gonna be dicey. Follow us in your truck. Is it still working? We saw the grenade go off.”
“Yeah, they hit the side of the road.” Logan breathed rapidly. “It should work. We’ll follow you.”
“Here,” Seabert said, thrusting another cell phone into his hand. “Use ours. We got radios.”
“Thanks,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. He straightened and saw Jody running toward him, weapon in hand.
“Go!” Logan urged the sheriff. “Be safe!”
Seabert gave him a grimace. “We’ll do our best. Follow close, okay? We’re gonna put pedal to the metal. I’d like to stop these dudes before they reach your ranch.”
Logan nodded and patted Seabert’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dan . . .”
The SWAT truck was hightailing it at a speed Logan wouldn’t even want to think about. A truck like that, filled with six well-armed members, was weaving unsteadily over this rugged road. They had no choice but to go as fast as they dared.
At least Barry knew what was happening. The house could burn down. Everything would be lost, but at least their lives would be intact. That’s all Logan cared about at this point. He gripped Lea’s dusty hand. She looked like she was in shock. Who wasn’t? Jody ran for the truck after he gave her the keys. He hoped the engine would start.
“You all right?” he asked, placing his arm around her shoulders. She sagged against him.
“Y-yes, okay . . . let’s just catch these guys . . .”
“We will,” he promised her grimly. “One way or another.”
One cruiser had pulled over because two of the men were wounded in their legs. Logan saw that the deputies had taken their weapons away and searched them, giving first aid after that. He was sure ambulances had been called and would arrive in minutes.
“Truck’s operational,” Jody called, scooting out of the driver’s seat.
“Good! Lea? You sit in the middle. Jody is going to ride shotgun, in case she has to fire.”
“Right,” she answered, running around the front of the truck. She saw the entire side of the truck had bullet holes in the rear panels, and a lot of dents. Jody motioned for her to climb in.
“They threw a grenade at us,” she explained. “Belt up, Lea, we’re in for one helluva ride.”
“Got it,” Lea answered, swiftly climbing in. By the time she was in, both of them were belted in and Logan was turning the truck around. She was pressed against the seat by the speed of the vehicle as Logan jammed his foot down on the accelerator. The engine was screaming like a banshee on the warpath! Glad that the safety belt was tight, Logan was fighting to keep the truck on the road as they roared down it, following the rooster tails of dust kicked up by law enforcement ahead of them.
“Can they catch them?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“Maybe,” Logan said grimly.
“The Commander of the SWAT team, Hunter Grant, is a sprint-car race driver in the off season,” Jody told Lea. “If anyone can catch them, it’s gonna be him at the wheel. Hunter’ll drive to hell and not bat an eyelash.”
“Wow,” Lea whispered, her eyes huge as she saw the truck turning at the gate. “At least the dirt road on the ranch property is a lot smoother to drive on.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jody said, grit in her tone. “It means SWAT might be able to make up the distance.” She was sitting up, the butt of the M4 between her legs, hand near the trigger mechanism.
“If he can’t—” Lea turned, asking Logan, “What will happen?”
“Everything’s up in the air,” he growled unhappily, his eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel hard.
“And they’re armed,” Lea said, terror mounting in her tone. “They might have more hand grenades on them, or worse.”
“Yeah,” Logan said, “and they don’t mind throwing them, either.”
They had another mile to go. By the time they made the turn, the SWAT truck was a mile ahead of them. Hunter was flying! Logan would bet he was going close to eighty miles an hour with that beast of a truck. And he’d bet money that van had probably never gone that fast in its life. But lives were on the line and he felt the urgency eating through him. He didn’t want his wranglers hurt, or the volunteer fire department firefighters, either. It was an ugly, escalating situation and he didn’t know how the hell it was going to end.
“What if that truck gets to the house first?” Lea asked tautly.
Jody shook her head. “All bets are off. I’ve been running the scenario in my head. Those guys, if they know the area, their best bet is to go speeding by the ranch house and make a beeline for the main highway.”
“I agree with you,” Logan said. “I don’t think they want to spend time shooting up firefighters fighting a fire. They got SWAT on their ass.”
“Not just any SWAT,” Jody said proudly. She looked over at Lea. “All SWAT members, three men and three women, are led by Hunter. And believe me, he lives up to his last name. He was a U.S. Navy SEAL for nine years and saw it all. When he returned home, he went to SWAT academy and got credentialed. Then he came here and settled down. He’s fierce. I’ve seen some really great soldiers and marines, but Hunter kicks ass and takes names.”
“And he doesn’t ask first,” Logan put in, giving her a tight smile. “He’s all business and so is his team, who all happen to be military vets, too.”
“I’m just glad we’re behind them. I’m scared spitless,” Lea admitted hollowly.
“Look, you can see your house up on the hill,” Jody told Logan. “It looks like they’re beating back the fire!”
Relief sped through Logan. “That’s good.” Now he could see, as they broke out of the groves of trees, the straight-ahead mile run to the homestead. Up ahead of him was the black SWAT van going like a bat out of hell, and two more sheriff’s cruisers with their headlights cutting like beams through the night, not far behind it, lights flashing.
The cab fell quiet. Logan felt so damned tight with tension and it hung in the truck like a heavy blanket. He was grateful Lea was all right. She was clearly shaken up, but who wouldn’t be? Jody, as usual, was cool, calm, and collected. She was a warrior. Like him. Funny, in a sick sort of way, how easily their days in the military had come back to them, how if someone scratched their skin, the warrior came out and all that training was right there, right on the surface and ready to tap into. It had saved their lives tonight. So far.
“I see the headlights of the lead truck,” Jody said as they crested the last hill. Now, all the vehicles, their headlights like knives stabbing through the darkness, were racing ahead of them.
“And Barry has everyone out of harm’s way?” Logan demanded. He saw little flames at the ranch house, wondering if they had been successful in saving his home. He couldn’t bear to think what his parents would feel if it had been destroyed. So many of his relatives had lived there, loved there, had children there, the stories within those walls, vital to him. It could all have been destroyed. He just didn’t know how this was going to end.
“Wait,” Jody said, pointing out the cracked window of the truck, “look over there. Headlights of a number of vehicles on the other road that goes around the house.”
“It’s probably the fire department and our water truck taking cover,” Logan said.
Jody quickly dialed into Seabert’s cruiser and talked with him. She finished the conversation. “Logan, you were right. They’ve pulled out and are taking cover down below the hill. They’re going to park there and wait it out.”
“They don’t have any way to protect themselves, either, do they?” Lea asked, worried.
“Just a stream of water,” Logan growled.
“Dan is hoping these guys in our truck will just race straight out of the ranch and either go north or south on the highway. He’s already setting up a trap for them, either way. His other deputies are out with gear to blow the tires on the truck. And the highway patrol is involved, as well. We have plenty of law enforcement and that’s a relief.”
“If they go south, that would be better for the deputies and highway patrol,” Logan said. “That takes them out in a lot of country with no people or houses around. If they go north? They will be racing down through the center of Silver Creek. A lot of people could get injured or killed.” His mouth slashed. “Damn, I hope Hunter can drop them here, on our property.”
“He’s driving that van like hell was after him,” Jody said, “barely a hundred feet between it and the escaping truck. They must be moving at seventy or eighty miles an hour. That’s crazy speed.”
Lea clasped her dusty hands together, lips tightening.
“Something’s gotta give,” Logan muttered darkly. “Hunter will not allow them to make it to the highway. I know him too well.”
“Oh!” Jody cried. “They’re firing out of the SWAT van down at the tires on the truck! Wow! Look at that!”
All Logan could see was two SWAT people firing out of the two front windows and down toward the earth.
Lea gave a gasp. The truck carrying the arsonists suddenly went airborne as it slid and then hit the side of the road. It bounced and then shot off into the air. She couldn’t see if it rolled or flipped, out of sight in the darkness.
“Whoa!” Jody yelled excitedly. “The truck’s turned over! Hunter has jammed on the brakes! Holy moley! He’s raising a huge dust cloud!” She lifted her rifle, sighting through the infrared. “Oh, yeah, Logan! The two guys in the pickup truck have just been apprehended by SWAT! They got ’em on the ground! They’re putting ties on their wrists!”
Logan took his foot off the accelerator. “Jody, call Dan. Ask if the fire department and water tanker can go back now and put out the fire at the house.”
Jody nodded, setting her rifle butt on the floorboards between her booted feet, and made that call.
“Dan’s already called the fire chief. They’re on their way back up to your home.”
“Good,” he whispered, giving Lea a glance. Her face was etched with exhaustion, and he couldn’t see much else. He loved her. And he’d almost lost her tonight. That shook him more deeply than anything else. He’d already lost one woman he’d loved. He wasn’t about to lose the second one. “We’re going to drive up to the house. We’ll meet the firefighters and the chief there. Hunter knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t need us there.”
Trying to control his emotions, Logan parked at the house. The fire department had returned, putting up huge floodlights aimed at the home, and the smoldering ruins of the wood shop and garage were easy to see. Inwardly, he winced. He claimed Lea’s hand once she climbed shakily out of the truck. Instinctively, his arm went around her waist and she leaned heavily against him, her arm going around his waist. All the adrenaline would soon leave, he realized as they walked toward the one end of the home. The smell of smoke was heavy in the air. The firefighters were putting a lot of water on the end of the house that had been attached to the wood shop. All of Lea’s tools had been in that shop, and were now destroyed. He knew she had been working on preliminary drawings for the door. That too, was gone. Glancing over at the house, most of it appeared to be unburned. Rounding the corner where all the water was being used, he tried to gird himself. Had the fire reached into the house?
His stomach curled in a knot as the glare of the floodlights revealed that, yes, a portion of the house, the living room area, had been fully breached by flames. Two hoses sprayed water up on the cedar roof, as well. He heard Lea give a little cry, as she stood there staring at the damage.
“Oh, Logan . . .” She sobbed, pressing both hands to her mouth.
“It’s okay, Lea,” he whispered, leaning over, kissing her dusty hair. “We got lucky,” he told her, his voice gritty with barely held emotion. “Maybe a third of the living room area is gone. We can rebuild that. The rest of the house has been saved. It’s all right. We’ll get through this together.” She looked up at him, her eyes welling up with tears. He tried to smile, but failed. Turning her so she was pressed against the front of him, he groaned as her slender arms wound around his torso and she buried her head against his chest. Gently, he placed his hand across the strands of her hair, smoothing them back into place, kissing her temple, and holding her tightly because he never, ever wanted to let this brave woman go again. She was his. He was hers. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life proving it to her.
The noise of the fire engines, the pumping sounds, the water spraying, hitting the roof and side of the house, dimmed as he focused in on Lea. How brave she’d been! How many women, in the dark of night, would go after a dangerous group of men like that? She’d been so courageous in unknown circumstances. No one in their right mind would have gone after the arsonists if they had known they had military weapons and grenades. She didn’t even think in those terms, and Logan knew that. Still, her desire to catch them showed him the fierce woman warrior who lay beneath the soft, artistic, gentle part of her he knew so well.
Holding her tightly, he pressed his cheek against her hair, closing his eyes, allowing the waves of tension to ripple through and out of him. He knew what was coming with the adrenaline crash, and he was sure Lea would experience it as well. Getting shot at was not something, he was sure, she was expecting. Life becomes very precious when one stares down the barrel of a rifle that is spitting bullets at them. He felt her quiver. And then felt the wetness of her tears being absorbed into his sweaty, dirty shirtfront. Murmuring soft words of comfort, kissing her ear and temple, his hand moving slowly up and down her strong spine, he felt her slowly begin to relax. And then she sagged against him, as if surrendering fully to him, wanting and needing his protection, the safety of his arms around her.
Swallowing hard, he lifted his head, looking up at the inky sky, the stars twinkling above them, some of them blotted out every now and again by the smoke still curling heavenward. Another breeze from a different direction drifted by them and he could smell the clean scent of pine, inhaling it deeply into his lungs.
“Hey,” he murmured near her ear, “let’s see where we stand with this fire and then we’re going into town tonight to get a hotel room. We’re both exhausted.”
Lea gave a shaky nod and slowly eased her grip around him and pulled away enough to look up at him. “That sounds good.”
“Most of the house is still standing,” he reassured her, motioning toward it and the powerful lighting flaring across the roof. “There’s going to be a little water damage and probably a lot of smoke damage, but we can deal with that,” he promised her quietly, caressing her wet cheek, drowning in her haunted and darkened eyes. “We’ll get through this together. Let’s go talk to the fire chief . . .”