Bang: B-Squad Book Two (18 page)

"Well, if it isn't Miss Iceberg Lettuce. Or was it Miss Myron County?" he asked, as if it wasn't a dig at all.

Whatever his game was, she wasn't playing. She tugged her hand free of his two-fisted grip. "It doesn't matter. Where's Essie?"

Some of the shine went out of his blue eyes. "In the next room."

"I want to see her before I say anything to your people."

"Don't worry," he said, a sliver of something dangerous in his innocuous words. "You will."

The guard behind her wrapped his arm like an iron bar across her chest and held her tight enough that she couldn't pull free. He slapped his other hand across her mouth. She bit down on the soft fleshy part of his palm, but it was too late. Jarrod picked up a syringe from the fireplace mantle and shoved it into the vein at the crook of her elbow.

Whatever it was, it hurt as it burned its way through her. She opened her mouth to scream, but suddenly it seemed like doing so would take too much energy. The tension in her body seemed to melt away and a cotton-swab soft fog wrapped itself around her.

"Don't worry," Jarrod said. "It's just a sedative to keep you nice and calm while you get ready for the wedding."

"You promised." The words came out slow and a little slurred.

"Yes. But after receiving a vision, I knew what I had to do." That fanatical gleam came into his eyes, making them sparkle as if he was powered by an other-worldly source. "Having you apologize isn't enough. You have to make up for your transgression. How better to show your remorse than to submit as only a wife of mine can?"

This was bad—very bad. He wouldn't be so happy if it wasn't, but she couldn't wrap her addled brain around it. "What are you talking about?"

"A double wedding, of course. There’s no better way to show my strength and the truth of my word than having those who defied me voluntarily repent and pledge their devotion to the true believers."

Panic shot through her. "You crazy bastard."

His hand sailed through the air and his palm connected with her cheek. Pain exploded in her head. If the bodyguard hadn't still been holding her up, she would have ended up on the floor.

"Watch that mouth of yours." Jarrod loomed over her, anger leaving red blotches on his cheeks. "I've been exceedingly tolerant of you up until now. Don't expect it to last. Karen!"

A woman rushed through a door next to the fireplace. She had a white cap on her head and a plain brown dress that covered her from throat to ankle.

"You have two hours to get her ready." Jarrod picked up a second syringe from the fireplace mantle and handed it to the woman. "If she starts getting mouthy, give her another shot."

The woman nodded but kept her eyes downcast.

The guard half pulled/half walked her toward the door. Although fear and pain had helped clear the fog, Tamara kept her face slack. Isaac and the rest of the team would be here in a matter of hours. She had until then to find Essie and prepare her to get the hell out of there. If Jarrod and his goons thought she was woozy, that could only help her cause. She just prayed Jarrod hadn't lied about Essie still being at the compound.

Tamara staggered through the doorway and into the other room with almost all of her attention focused downward. She was only partially faking how hard the drug had hit her. Whatever the fuck Jarrod had used, she sure as hell did not want a second dose.

"Aunt T!"

Tamara’s head snapped up and she fought back the instant wave of relief at seeing the one person she’d desperately wanted to find on the compound. "Essie!"

The girl rushed to her side and wrapped her arms around Tamara's waist. Tamara buried her face in Essie's blonde hair and couldn't stop the tears when she smelled the girl's favorite vanilla shampoo. She must have finagled her way into packing a few things before they'd left Hamilton, which explained how she'd managed to sneak her phone onto the compound. Essie’s plan hadn't worked, but the girl was definitely a fighter and that would serve her well when the shit hit the fan.

Essie pulled back and Tamara got her first good look at her niece. Her eyes were swollen from crying, but there weren't any bruises or other visible signs of abuse.

"Are you okay?" Tamara asked.

The girl nodded. Her face was clean of makeup and she was wearing a simple white dress, both of which made her look even younger than her sixteen years. The steely determination in her eyes didn't say kid, though. That was the look Amelia had worn when she'd made Tamara promise to keep Essie safe from Jarrod. The man didn't know what he was in for.

Tamara took a quick look around the room. There was a narrow bed against one wall and a trio of women huddled in the corner wearing drab brown dresses with their hair pulled back under white caps. One of the women had tears in her eyes. She gave Tamara a sympathetic nod and dropped the unused syringe into the trash can beside the vanity table. The women might be in the Society, but that didn't mean they were here any more voluntarily than she and Essie were.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Essie said in a hopeless whisper. "He's making you marry him."

Tamara brushed the girl's hair back and kissed her forehead. "It's not your fault. And I'm not marrying him—and you're not marrying…"

"Phillip." Essie rolled her eyes.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the typical teenage reaction made Tamara chuckle. "Well, Phillip is out of the picture. We just need to play along for a little while until help arrives."

"How do you know someone's coming?"

Tamara squeezed Essie's shoulders. "Because he'll always be there."

That didn't mean she was going to sit idly by and wait through. The women were there to help Essie and Tamara get ready for their farce of a double wedding, but they may be more helpful in other ways.

M
arko had just made
the turn off the main highway to meet with the ATF agents and go over what they'd found at the compound when his phone buzzed. Squinting against the bright morning sun peeking over the horizon, he glanced down at the phone sitting in the cup holder. The caller ID read “G-girl.”

Nosy as always, Elisa leaned over from the passenger seat to get a look at his phone. "You gonna answer that?"

"No." He loved his little sister Gillie, but she was going to have to wait. There were bigger things to deal with than whatever drama she'd managed to stir up today.

"One of your girlfriends?" Elisa asked when the buzzing finally stopped.

"Don't have one." Something she well knew. He'd been going out with his right hand for so long they were practically common law spouses.

She pivoted in her seat and dipped her sunglasses down low over the bridge of her nose. With her hair tied up in a bun and her very conservative, un-Elisa-like shirt buttoned up to her neck, she looked like every dirty librarian fantasy a book nerd ever had.

After giving him a slow up and down, she asked, "Not even one night stands?"

"Nope." Again, information she already knew. It wasn't like they didn't all live in the same building, practically on top of each other and constantly in each other’s business. If he'd had an overnight guest, the entire B-Squad would be interrogating her over pancakes the next morning.

Elisa’s gaze dropped down to his crotch. "Why not?"

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and swerved to avoid a pothole in the road leading to the nearby airstrip. "We aren't doing this now."

"Why not?" She pushed her sunglasses back into place, a Cheshire cat grin curling her full red lips upward.

"The mission takes precedence," he said.

"And talking about the reason behind your lack of a sex life is going to distract you from driving across the tarmac to where the ATF’s jet is parked?"

"We need to focus." It sounded weak even to his own ears, but it was true. Something about Elisa always seemed to knock his concentration sideways.

"Fine." She shrugged. "Have it your way. I'm sure G-girl will be thrilled to talk with her big stud later."

There was just enough of a thread of bitterness in her voice to get through his thick skull and connect with his brain. No doubt she was picking on him because she was still annoyed he’d called her out last night, but there was more. He was sure of it.

"Jealous?" he asked.

Her body stiffened and her chin went up and inch or three. "No."

Oh, yes she was. Elisa Sharp was jealous. The nice thing to do would be to tell her G-girl was his sister, Gillie. Good thing he'd never been accused of being nice.

"For a con artist, you sure do lie like shit." He stopped the car next to the jet and cut the engine.

"Oh yeah?" She had the door open before he even got the key out of the ignition. "Well for someone with a reputation of being strong and silent, you sure do flap your gums a lot."

She hopped out of the truck and slammed the door behind her before strutting over the where the agents were gathered, while he sat behind the wheel trying to unravel the meaning of this latest development.

T
he meet
with ATF was at a scenic lookout off the highway, about ten miles away from the Crest Society's compound. The agents had shown up in a convoy of SUVs, black with dark tinted windows that screamed Feds, led by Marko and Elisa in their truck.

A man Isaac didn't recognize got out of the passenger side of the first SUV. He was chomping an unlit cigar and swaggered like he was a massive 'roided-out wrester walking to the ring instead of being five feet, nine inches tall and on the skinny side. Isaac's belly tightened. Shit, they did not have time for the guy to go all Napoleon on him right now.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Hargrove." The man held out his hand. "I understand you have some information you'd like to share with your government."

Isaac snuck a glance at Marko and Elisa standing by their truck as he shook the other man's hand. Elisa rolled her eyes. Marko just shrugged.

"Yes, your friends Mr. and Mrs. Ryan have been very helpful so far." He glanced over at the crude map of the Crest Society's compound Marko had drawn that was sitting on the still-warm hood of Isaac's truck. "That's the ticket. I'm gonna go have a peek while you chat with your friends, Mr. Hargrove."

Isaac stood there, his brain trying to catch up with whatever the fuck was going on while the man strode over to the truck. He was flanked by two ATF agents in black cargo pants and T-shirts who never gave Isaac a single glance.

Marko and Elisa made their way over to Isaac as the other agents got out of the remaining SUVs. There were fifteen men in total, all of whom passed by Isaac, Marko and Elisa as if they weren't even there. They huddled around the man examining the map lying on Isaac's truck.

"Welcome to bizarro land," Elisa said.

"What's the deal?" he asked, frustration bubbling through the confusion. "We don't have time for games."

"Skippy over there"—Elisa jerked his chin toward the man obviously in charge—"wasn't real excited about taking civilians in with him during the raid. The deal is, we keep our cover and hang back until it's time to go in. The ATF’s focus is on the guns and securing Fane. Ours is on getting Tamara and Essie out. As far as the Feds are concerned, we're three concerned citizens who provided information on the condition of anonymity, then went back to our safe little civilian homes. It's like they won't even be able to see us on the compound."

"Plausible deniability," Marko said.

The whole thing made his head hurt. "Fuck it. I just want to get in and get Tamara and Essie out. Who the Feds have to justify it to isn't a concern of mine."

He turned around and began heading for the ATF agents, but they broke their huddle before he took more than three steps in their direction. All of them marched to the SUVs, again ignoring his, Marko's, and Elisa's existence. All except for the man in charge. He stopped directly in front of Isaac, wearing a bland smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Thank you again, Mr. Hargrove for sharing this information with us," the man said. "Too bad it's not really of much help."

He handed the map back to Isaac with a curt nod and walked over to his SUV.

What the fuck? How we're they supposed to coordinate? This was bullshit.

Isaac glanced down at the map. There were several new markings on it—Xs, Os and arrows denoting where agents would be and the general plan of attack. The number twenty was written at the top and circled. By the time he looked back up, the agents were all in their SUVs and beginning to pull back out onto the highway.

He shook his head. They must teach an extra-special class at the ATF about how to be a giant pain in the ass.

"We have twenty minutes until they hit," he said, as Marko and Elisa checked out the map. "While most of the compound's force is dealing with the raid, we'll go in here." He tapped a point on the perimeter parallel to the house Marko had been able to identify as Jarrod’s thanks to his earlier tour of the compound. "It's the most logical place to start looking for them."

Marko nodded. "Glad I packed the bolt cutters."

"And here I thought that bag was full of all your favorite shoes," Elisa quipped.

"Let's go," Isaac said. "We've got to be set up and ready to move when the Feds’ first flash grenade goes off."

Once that happened the shit would really hit the fan, and he was going to do whatever it took to make sure Tamara and Essie didn't get hurt in the fallout.

In the two hours since she'd been drugged, the trio of helper-women had supervised her shower, given her a new, simple white dress to wear, fixed her brown hair in an elaborate braid that wound around her head, and pinned a veil to her head.

Tamara took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror, then let the veil fall into place over her face. She might not look like herself, but she finally felt like herself again. The sedative had worn off enough that her vision had cleared and she didn't have to pluck each thought out of a thick fog of confusion. She'd take the wins where she could get them right now. Inhaling a deep breath, she closed her eyes and calmed her nerves. Isaac and the rest of the team would come. She let the breath out, opened her eyes, and turned to the other women in the room.

Essie kneeled in the middle of the trio of girls, Alison, Janice, and Tiffany. They were young, around Essie's age, and had been assigned as her friends/watchers. All three were married, and Tiffany had the full, round belly of late pregnancy. All three had been runaways who'd thought they'd found a home when they'd arrived at the Crest Society compound. By the time they'd figured out what was involved, it was too late. They were trapped.

A knock on the door made all five women in the bedroom jump.

"It's time," the guard said through the door. "I mean it."

The girls had managed to push off the three earlier attempts by the guard to leave.

"Yes, sir," Alison said as she affixed the white lace veil to the headband woven into Essie's hair. "No more delaying. You have to go."

Essie tried to stand but it was too much for her visibly shaking legs. Alison and Tiffany each took one of her arms and helped her until she was steady.

"I appreciate everything," Essie said like a woman off to the firing squad. "Thank you."

"We wish it could have been more," Janice said, and gave Essie a quick, impromptu hug. "It's best if you just submit right away."

Bile rose in Tamara's throat at the thought of what that submission had meant for Janice, Tiffany, and Alison. They were just girls. Their husbands, they'd informed her, were all in their late forties.

The door swung open. The guard who'd helped Jarrod drug Tamara took up most of the open doorway. A second guard stood right behind him. She and Essie may have been able to scramble away from one guard. Two? That ended that hope.

"I mean it," he said. "Let's go. We need to be there before the guests arrive."

All five of them started forward.

"Not you three." He pointed at the girls. "Just the brides."

The girls squawked in quiet protest, but didn't make a move forward.

Tamara took Essie's hand and whispered, "Don't let the bastards grind you down."

The quote from The Handmaid's Tale seemed to fit perfectly with the situation inside the Crest Society compound. Essie squeezed her hand and they walked through the door, heads high and brave faces firmly affixed under their lacy bridal veils.

The bolt cutters snapped through the last of the chain-link fence on the east side of the Crest Society compound. Isaac peeled back the section of fence and held it while Marko and Elisa squeezed through the opening. He followed after.

They moved, silent and quick behind the outer line of cabins, their M4 rifles at the ready. The countdown clock had two minutes on it. They had to get in place before the ATF hit. They had a minute to go by the time they'd made it inside the third ring. Isaac signaled to Marko to cross the dirt alley between the houses to get to the next ring when the flash grenade went off with a loud boom.

After that it was chaos. People screamed. Gunfire sounded.

"Let's go," Isaac hollered, and all three of them took off running.

He cleared the fourth ring of houses and spotted two of Fane's guards rushing two women dressed like brides inside the chapel next to Fane's cabin.

"Let me go!" one of the women hollered.

He couldn't see the bride's face, but there was no mistaking the icy contempt in that order. Tamara was pissed. Good. That meant she was okay. Of course, she'd be better once he got her the hell out of here.

Tamara fought with everything she had, but she was not getting out of the guard's grasp. His fingers bit into her wrist, squeezing the small bones together. She cried out in pain. He didn't seem to care. He shoved her through the chapel door and slammed it shut behind her.

The second guard, who'd pulled Essie inside the chapel too, grabbed Tamara by the arm and swung her farther back into the vestibule. She sailed through the air, slamming into the wall. The impact knocked the air out of her and dislodged a short wood staff off the wall. It fell the floor and she followed, sliding down the wall as she fought for breath.

"Stay down and don't fuck with me, and you might make it out of here alive," the guard snarled, turning his attention back to the window.

Essie scrambled over to her and held her hand while Tamara tried to get her air back. Sucking in shallow breaths, she looked around the vestibule. The guard stood to their right, leaning against a sliver of wall off to the side of the window by the front door. An open archway divided the vestibule from the chapel behind them. It was small. Only twenty pews and a podium up on the altar. To their left was a wall with a door. They might be able to make it out while the guard was distracted.

"What's going on?" Essie asked, keeping her voice quiet.

Tamara finally sucked in a full breath. "Isaac's here," she whispered. "And it sounds like he brought friends."

The sound of gunfire went off like firecrackers outside, but it wasn't close. They could get out of here. Hide until Isaac got beyond the outer ring of cabins. She curled her fingers around the staff. It was a little over two feet long, but it was made of hard walnut with the Crest Society logo burned into it. As far as weapons went, it wasn't the greatest, but if the guard got close again she'd be able to whack him over the head with it. Another round of gunfire went off, this time closer. The guard's attention was focused on the activity outside the window. If they were going to make a break for it, they needed to do it now.

Tamara looked over at Essie and held her finger to her lips as she stood, holding the staff behind her back. Essie nodded and followed her lead. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as they shuffle-stepped toward the side door as quietly as possible. Chatter from the guard's walkie-talkie filled the silence, helping to cover the sound of their footsteps. A few more and they'd be at the door. She could almost reach the knob. Another step closer. She reached out and—

"Where do you think you're going?" the guard asked, taking a menacing step toward them.

Tamara didn't think. There wasn't time. She reacted with the only skill she had.

As the big man steamed toward them, she twisted her wrist, increasing her speed on each turn. Finally, she raised her arm and threw the staff at him with all the force she'd used in her pageant days when she’d send a baton skyward, execute a double cartwheel, and then catch it. The staff shot through the air, high and true, cracking him right between the eyes. He crashed to the ground.

Tamara whirled around and reached for the side door, but the front door burst open before she could. Jarrod rushed in, gun drawn.

"You bitch," he yelled, more than a touch of craziness thundering through his words. "You've ruined everything."

Tamara threw herself in front of Essie right as the side door flew open.

Isaac rushed through the chapel's side door and time screeched to a halt. The rest of the world fell away until all Isaac could see was Jarrod Fane with his finger on the trigger and the handgun pointed at Tamara's head.

There was no hesitation. No flashback to Afghanistan. No second thought. Isaac fired.

The bullet hit Fane in the shoulder, the power of it knocking him back and sending the gun sailing from his grasp. Tamara kicked the gun out of Fane's reach as Isaac ran across the vestibule, hurdling over the guard, who was out cold.

Relief rushed through Isaac, enough that the adrenaline rush from the rescue seemed puny in comparison. She was safe. His entire body ached with the need to curl around her and confirm it in a way his eyes couldn’t, but he knew Tamara was finally safe. Everything from Wolczyk showing up at the engagement party to Essie being kidnapped had led up to him firing his gun at another human being for the first time since Afghanistan. Part of him should be freaking out. But he wasn’t. The power of seeing the woman he loved without Fane’s threat hanging over her head made it all worth it.

He gathered Tamara in his arms while Marko secured the prisoners and Elisa led Essie into the chapel. It wasn't until that moment that he truly realized how close he'd come to losing her, and it shook him right down to his toes. He didn't know how he was going to convince her to stay in Fort Worth, but he'd figure it out. Now that he'd found her, he wasn't about to let her go.

She pulled back far enough to look up at him. "I knew you'd come."

"Always." He cupped her face and tilted it up. "You can trust me on that."

He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers, needing to say more but knowing now wasn't the time. ATF agents were already streaming into the chapel behind them. He ended the kiss before he was ready.

"Come on. Let's go get Essie."

Tamara nodded, but there was something in her eyes that gave him pause. "One thing first,” she said.

She stalked over to where Fane was propped up against a wall with one of the agents squatting in front of him applying pressure to the wound.