Colorado Fire - Colorado Heart 2 (19 page)

"Come in. He's over here on the floor."

The fireman stepped inside, following close. "I'm Brody Medders."

"James, and Marshal is over here."

Tucker had cut Billy's pant's leg, exposing the gunshot wound. He glanced up and froze before turning back to Billy's leg. James cringed when he got a look at Billy's leg. He hoped Brody wasn't familiar with gunshot wounds.

Brody glanced at Billy then to Marshal. "How long as he been out?"

"More than an hour," James answered.

"His pulse?"

"Getting stronger."

"I need to get a reading on his blood pressure."

"We have equipment here." He
slid the medic bag to the guy and smiled. "We're like boy scouts, prepared and all."

"I see." The paramedic took Marshal's blood pressure reading then listened to his heart. "I don't like what I'm seeing. We need to transport him soon. He's okay for now, but he needs to be at the ER before morning."

James nodded. "I agree. We have a van. I'll go pull it around and take him to the nearest hospital in Pueblo."

"I'm riding with you," Brody said.

"You don't have to." James countered.

"I insist. Now, let's get him to the van."

James opened the door, ready to step out when the wood splintered beside him. Bits of the frame hit his face and neck, pricking his skin. It stung, but because he'd pulled on his coat and a cap, the damage wasn't too bad. Brody jumped up and yelled. James saw him and spun toward Brody, reaching him in two strides. He pulled Brody to the floor, covering him with his body.

"Stay down. We need to move Marshal to another room, but if we get up, we'll be hit. Help me get the sked into the den. We'll figure it out from there."

"What the fuck?" Brody said.

"Just do what he says," Grant barked.

James saw fear in Brody's eyes. This was probably the first time the man had been under fire. For James, it was business as usual. Another shot exploded the glass above the kitchen sink.

"He sees us. Give me two seconds." James jumped up and switched off the lights. He made his way back to Marshal and Brody, lifting the sked on his end. "Pick it up and move."

"I have no idea where we're going," Brody said.

"I'll lead, just carry."

James felt Brody pick up the other end of the sked, hoisting it to about knee level. James moved with confidence through the den to the hall where there were no windows and they'd be protected.

They set the sked down and Brody blew out a quick breath of air. "What the fuck is going on here? This isn't normal. I can't—"

"Zip it and I'll keep you alive," James barked.

"I—"

"Do you want to live?"

"Yeah."

"That's right, pretty boy, you can go back home to your wife and whatever else is waiting for you. Just stick with me and do exactly what I say." James made a tactical decision, opening the door to the control room. "Pick up your end and follow me in. We'll be safe in here."

"Okay."

The door shut behind them, blocking out the orders Grant was barking. James turned on the light and watched as Brody blinked against the brightness. James stepped over Marshal and backed Brody up against the door.

"Not one word, nothing, no thoughts either about this place. You weren't here."

Brody's gaze shifted and James placed his hand on the man's chest, pressing him against the door and getting his attention again.

"Your life is mine now. If we'd stayed out there, you'd be dead. So I get to say when you die. As long as you never say a single word about this place, I'll allow you to keep on breathing. And I'm fucking serious. Right now, we're going to play doctor and make Marshal better. I have everything to set up an IV."

"Are you a medic?"

"I've had medical training. I don't feel comfortable operating on his arm, but we can get him stable and take away some of the pain."

Brody nodded and narrowed his eyes. "You are joking about this place, right?"

James stiffened and snarled. "I'm fucking serious. Don't test me. You want to see the little wifey again?"

"I'm not married."

"Fine, you want to ever have sex again, don't talk about this room or this house. Ever."

James didn't know if he got the message across. It was stupid and he was breaking all kinds of rules by bringing Brody in here. One thing was certain, they'd be dead if they were still out in the open. This room was fire and bulletproof. Only a bomb aimed directly at this spot would get through.

*~*~*

Zander watched as James moved Marshal into the control room. He didn't like that a stranger was in their secret room, but Marshal needed to be protected. The house had the best in fire suppression equipment, so he wasn't worried about that, but James would have to answer to Duff about why a stranger was in the control room. He sure as hell didn't want to be around for that.

He crawled to the locked cabinet where they had a rifle stowed. He entered the code in on the keypad and the locked clicked. Craig would be smart, setting up where he couldn’t easily be hit. This wasn't a job for the semi-automatics. No, he needed to grab his L129A1 equipped with a kickass night vision scope. He took a box of ammunition for the rifle and closed the cabinet.

Tucker was somewhere, hopefully not dead. They should be able to pin Craig in with both of them sniping. There weren't too many options on where to set up. Craig had the upper hand, but maybe he could take that away. Zander thought about all of the rooms in the house and what advantage each would offer. He could set up down here, but he bet Craig had chosen a position that would give him the upper hand. Who knew how long Craig had contemplated waging a war with the ranch. Craig knew the landscape because he'd lived here for so long. He had every advantage on his side, but Zander had love and he sure as hell wasn't going to let the fucking bastard take away the love of his life.

Upstairs he'd be able to see the landscape, but not one of the rooms was set up right for sniping. He'd have to move furniture, making a platform where none existed. Careful to avoid the glass and debris littering the floor, Zander crawled to the stairs, climbing up them quickly. He moved to the side of the house above the kitchen, entering Mike's room. After moving his magazines off the dresser top, Zander pushed the heavy furniture over to the window, cursing the damned thing the whole time.

He parted the blinds just enough to look out. At first, he saw nothing, then the flash of Craig's gun alerted him of the guy's position. Moving slowly, Zander set up his gun stand, angling the weapon in Craig's general direction. The blinds would have to be open. If Mike had curtains, it might be easier, however any movement in the curtain would be detected by Craig and that might make it worse.

Slowly, Zander twisted the blind rod, opening the window fully. He ducked low and moved behind his gun. Craig could be watching him just as intently as he planned on watching Craig. The second he rose above the window ledge, he could be shot but it was a risk he would have to take.

He swallowed down his fear, replacing it with determination to keep Marshal safe. Rising slowly, Zander stood. The scope might have just enough flash on the lens to draw Craig's attention. He waited for something bad to happen as he adjusted the gun, searching for Craig.

The guy could have moved but Zander didn't think Craig would. When he finally looked through the scope, he couldn’t see Craig. His heart beat faster and he moved the scope, searching for Craig. It was dangerous to stay visible for so long without knowing where his enemy was.

Less than a second after Zander lowered below the table, the glass in front of him shattered. Craig knew where he was and he was screwed. He abandoned his rifle, heading downstairs as quickly as possible. After grabbing a Glock out of the gun cabinet, Zander made his way out the front door, moving slowly around the side of the house. As long as Craig hadn't moved again, he was safe. Zander used his night vision goggles, searching out Craig. He saw movement beside the barn and for a second he thought it was Craig, but he recognized Tucker.

This was getting crazy. They'd end up killing each other if they weren't careful. He slowly made his way back inside, trying to come up with a plan that would keep everyone safe.

A sound to his right, off the main entryway, drew his attention. Zander turned but something hit him on the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. He blinked, trying to figure out what had happened. Then he saw Craig standing above him, his mouth turned down in a frown. He was freaking screwed and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Chapter Eighteen

Grant saw the movement outside and followed, knowing the shadowy figure because he'd been in love with the guy for years. It was different now. He knew Craig hadn't ever loved him. Then there were the lies. Craig hadn't told the truth about anything, drawing Grant into a relationship based on lies. The bastard had played them all, but he'd really played Grant. His men needed to be protected and if Craig had to die, then so be it.

The side door to the house, the one no one ever used, was left open. He'd seen Craig move in this direction and assumed he'd gone inside. Grant closed the door behind him, stepping quietly into the hall that led to the laundry room. Being ambushed would suck, so Grant moved to the laundry door then pushed it open slowly. His night vision goggles were still on, allowing him to determine the room was empty.

Grant closed the door behind him and opened the linen closet door. The shelves would have prevented anyone other than a small child from hiding in the closet, but he had to check. Six feet down the hall, the door to a small bathroom was left open. He searched the bathroom, coming up empty.

He knew this house like the back of his hand and so did Craig. Being lazy, taking for granted any alcove or closet would get him killed. If it were him, he'd head to the control room, or maybe he'd position himself in the den. But there were too many issues with the den and kitchen. Both were open. What the fuck was Craig hoping to accomplish? The only thing Grant could guess was killing them all.

He never should have tracked Craig to England. It was shortsighted and immature. The man had pissed him off and at the time he'd been thinking with his heart and not his head. Now he new that Craig's heart had never been involved in the matter. Craig was a dangerous monster, not a friend like he'd assumed when he left for England. His worst fears about the man were real.

Grant heard the sharp squeak of a door down the hall and paused, plastering himself against the wall. It was Duff's room. He held still, breathing as silently as possible. Craig stepped out of Duff's bedroom. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his muscles clenched. The distance between him and Craig was too great to effectively rush and attack. Holding off would allow Craig too much freedom.

In that second, Grant made a decision. He rushed forward and Craig flinched before turning. Grant was on him, his fist striking Craig in the side of the head before he chopped down hard, striking the side of Craig's neck. Any other man would have gone down, but not Craig.

They struggled, their fists flying as well as their feet. The hall didn't allow for an all out martial arts fight, but they were hurting each other. Grant got in a good foot strike before Craig spun around, knocking Grant's feet out from under him. They both went down, Craig on top at first. Then Grant kipped his hips and was able to knock Craig off. He scrambled on top of his ex, throwing a punch that snapped Craig's head back and made his eyes roll.

It was the break Grant needed. He pummeled Craig again, striking his face twice. The fight wasn't won, but Grant had the upper hand. He heard someone run into the hall but didn't stop his assault. After a few more punches, hands grabbed at Grant's shoulders and pulled him off Craig. The lights flashed on, blinding Grant for a moment. He yanked away his night vision goggles and shook his head. Mike was there, slapping cuffs on Craig. All was well, and he could breathe easy.

Grant sat back against the wall and watched. This wasn't how he thought Craig would come back to them. All of the years loving Craig came at Grant, hitting him in the chest hard. He gasped for breath, wondering if he'd ever be able to take a full breath again. The love he'd felt for the man was gone, but hate hadn't replaced it. Instead, there was an empty feeling that sucked at his soul. He'd wasted years of his life with Craig.

Marshal was already taking a leave of absence, and some of the other guys were strung out and would need a break. He couldn’t keep going at this pace, but he couldn’t leave Duff in a lurch. He had nothing left to give.

"Grant, you okay?" Mike asked.

He shook his head to clear it, focusing on his injuries. Nothing he couldn’t recover from. "Yeah, just a bit beat up."

"Shit," Mike cursed. "I can't believe this fucker was in our house going through—"

"Hey," Grant interrupted him, "check Duff's room. He was in there."

"Fuck." Mike raced to Duff's room. Grant saw the lights flip on. "Goddammit," Mike screamed.

"What?" Grant crawled to his feet and ran to Duff's room, his heart racing.

"The fucking asshole planted a bomb." Mike's voice was even, but his eyes were wide, showing his true fear.

"I'll get Zander and James in here." Grant moved with purpose to the kitchen and found Zander on the floor. Grant dropped to his knees beside the man, to find that he was out cold. "Fuck."

He needed to find James. Too bad Roger wasn't here too because they needed another explosives expert on site. Shit, they were short staffed when things like this came up. But nothing like this had ever happened on the ranch. Usually they could pick and choose who went on a mission, making sure they had guys with the right training to fit what ever would come their way.

"James!" Grant yelled. He needed to find James and he wasn't sure he would have his phone.

Grant ran to the control room, punching in the code to unlock the door. Shock coursed through him when the door swung open, revealing James and a stranger leaning over Marshal.