Cold Day in Hell (40 page)

She met his eyes, unflinchingly. His brain refused to engage, pure emotion drove his reaction. “I don’t want you anywhere near the battle zone. You’ll be locked down here, safe on my island, where nothing but a nuke from China might reach you.”

“So, you’re assuming Cruz won’t ever make it to the island before you spring your trap? Shit happens, Marine. What if they have rocket launchers? I’d be a sitting duck in this glass house.” Callie waved a hand toward the expanse of glass. She turned toward the others. “I’m safer in Osprey’s Point with you all, so you might as well use me. Tell me your plan.”

“Callie!” Even he heard the fear in his voice.

She cupped his face with her hands. The look in her eyes was fierce, determined and filled with fear for him. “Risto, I love you. But right now, you’re being a recalcitrant ass.

I’m not a helpless female who needs to be placed on a shelf for safe-keeping. We’ve had this discussion.” She shook his head for emphasis. “I know my limitations. Getting out of Colombia on my own was not in my skill set. Fighting hand-to-hand in a running street battle in Osprey’s Point isn’t either. But I
am
an expert sniper. I’ve proven I can take out a live target. I can make a difference and save lives—your life.”

“Callie … sweetheart…”

She covered his mouth with her fingers. “Shut up, Marine.” Then she snorted, one of those elegant, disdainful sniffs which made him harder than titanium steel in a nanosecond. “You insult me—and your friends—if you think any of us would endanger the baby I’m carrying. And, since I’m essential to the live birth of our baby, that means,
ipso facto
, the danger to my person would also be factored into my decision.” Conn choked back a laugh. Berto coughed. Risto swore in Finnish and several other languages before staring the other two men into silence. He pulled away from her hands and took her lips in a rough, rapacious and all too brief kiss. “We’ll discuss who’s the boss in this family later—in private.”

“Sweetie, we already discussed that—last night. In the bedroom, you’re the boss.

Outside, however, we’re a team. I expect to be treated as the intelligent equal partner I am.”

“Fuck, Risto. You’re the boss in the bedroom? Way to go, man.” Conn gave him a thumbs-up. He shot a naughty wink at Callie who giggled. Conn really needed to stop flirting with his woman or Risto would be happy to remove the man’s favorite dangly parts.

Conn continued to bury himself by adding, “You have to admit, she’s smart and can think on her feet. She doesn’t panic. Plus, we really could use her shooting skills. The Walsh twins would be of better help on the ground. Ren told me she out shot him and Price Teague and is Keely’s equal. I’m betting she can make a fifteen-hundred-meter shot with that fricking Lapua you have in your armory, even in a high wind with snow.”

“Yes, I can. I shot Keely’s Lapua every day I was at Sanctuary. It’s sweet.” Callie petted his chest as if soothing a rabid animal. “Even if I don’t make a kill shot at that distance, I can still do a lot of damage to the enemy at that caliber. My shooting might tip the psychological advantage to our favor. Sniper kills, according to my dad, demoralize invading troops.”

“Fuck, just fuck.” Risto wiped a hand over his face. He was out-numbered and worst of all—they were right. He just didn’t like it. If it had been anyone but his Callie, he would have agreed from the get-go. He heaved a sigh. “You’re all correct. I just …

Callie…” He cuddled her closer and gently kissed the lips he’d bruised earlier. “I just found you. I can’t…”

“I know. I know.” She nuzzled his neck and petted him. He sighed and let her comfort him with her touch. “I feel the same way about you risking yourself, Marine. I want to make sure we have years and years together. This is my way of making sure that will happen.”

He had to trust her. She’d handled everything thrown at her since he met her in Cartagena. She’d proven that she was smart and knew her limitations. If she needed help, she’d let him or the others know. Plus, he’d make sure one of the Walsh twins backed her up as a spotter. Two sets of eyes at high ground were better than one. Plus, the spotter could be armed as a back-up sniper.

“Tell her the plan.” Risto held her as close to his body as he could. Her stomach growled loudly. His lips quirked. “Our child needs to be fed and so does his mama.” He reached over and retrieved the bowl he’d set aside. “Eat.” She took the bowl from him and began to eat. She paused, a spoonful of stew halfway to her mouth, and spoke before Conn could begin. “It’s a good thing I’m not showing yet since I have better accuracy lying on my stomach using the bipod.” Risto groaned. Okay, maybe he had given in too soon. This whole thing had cluster fuck written all over it. “Callie, maybe…”

“Risto, I’ll handle it. I can do this. Anyone tries to kill my man is dead meat.” She took her next bite and chewed the beef as if it were Cruz.

“Fine. But you’ll be at the maximum range for the Lapua. Fifteen hundred meters.

And the position will be elevated and protected so they can’t get to you easily. Plus, and this is non-negotiable, you’ll have one of the Walsh twins as a spotter and back-up sniper.

Got it?” He swept all of them with an evil eye.

“Sure, old buddy, sounds like a plan to me.” Conn smirked. Yeah, the man wanted to sing soprano.

“
Sí,
Risto.”

“Yes.” Callie hugged him, endangering her bowl of stew, then kissed the edge of his clenched jaw. “But it can be less than fifteen hundred if I’m elevated. From what I saw last night when we arrived, I’m not sure the whole downtown of Osprey’s Point is much more than twelve hundred meters in length.”

He shook his head and let out a disgusted breath. “I’ve got to be nuts to even consider this.” Absently, he massaged Callie’s shoulders, finding the motion comforting.

“You’re not nuts,” Callie rubbed her cheek against his jaw line, “just using all the resources at hand. You’d trust me to protect the baby if you were on a mission, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” But he planned to have her safely at Sanctuary when he was on extended missions after the baby arrived. He was sure Ren would conspire with him to give Callie assignments during those times.

“Then trust me to protect the baby’s father.”

“Fine, but if you even get frost bit, I’ll tie you to the bed and never let you out of my sight again.”

“Risto, you were going to do that anyway.” She poked him in the chest with the hand holding her spoon.

Conn and Berto roared with laughter. Risto shot them a nasty glance. “Just wait until you get women of your own. You’ll know exactly how I feel and I’ll be happy to remind you of this moment.”

“Can’t wait, old buddy. But I doubt I’ll ever find a woman to match Callie.” He winked at her. “You sure you don’t have any sisters, sweet cheeks?”

“Sorry, none.”

At Conn’s continued flirtation with Callie, Risto muttered several pithy swear words in Finnish. He received an elbow in his ribs. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know what you said,” she massaged the area she’d elbowed, “but I’m sure it wasn’t complimentary.”

“Hell, I can’t even get away with swearing at my former friend’s suggestive behavior toward my fiancée in my own house.”

“Nope. Plus, it’s our house, you said so, and Conn and Berto are guests. So be nice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then he muttered against her ear, “Did you know that sassy mothers-to-be get spanked?”

She grinned. “Promises, promises. Now, dish on the plan.” Looking toward the kitchen, she added, “Didn’t we buy bananas? All of a sudden, I’m craving a banana.” She stared him in the eye and licked her lips. “A nice big one.” When Conn hooted with laughter once more, Risto swore. “You are a dead man, Redmond.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Late Wednesday Evening, Big Earl’s in Osprey’s Point.

Big Earl had agreed to host the final planning meeting. Since the wind and snow had died down, Callie, Risto, Conn and Berto boated to the mainland rather than use the helicopter. While in town, they’d scout the positions Risto wanted to use in the street battle with Cruz and his hired army. Callie had insisted on coming along. After all, she had to find her sniper’s nest from which to shoot. No sniper worth his or her salt allowed someone else to scout out their sniping post.

Sitting at the diner counter, Callie watched the group of men argue over various vantage points and nursed the glass of red wine she had to argue with Risto to get. In the end, she was forced to resort to the baby book she carried in her tote and pointed to the passage which stated an occasional glass of wine was allowed. Muttering, her stubborn marine acquiesced. Big Earl winked when he poured her the glass of Shiraz and whispered, “Keep him on his toes, Callie.” She hid her grin by taking a sip.

The team to trap and take out Cruz and his men had swelled to include Loren and Paul Walsh who’d driven into Osprey’s Point over an hour ago, and several locals who were also ex-military and year-round residents. The four men, who hadn’t been introduced to her by name, looked tough. They were like Risto and the other men—the kind of men who could be dropped into a wilderness with just a knife and come out alive.

The Yoopers, as the locals were called, had come to the meeting fully armed and ready to go to war against the be-damned guerilla invaders.

Cruz’s force was in the U.P., but was still well away from Osprey’s Point, stuck at a Comfort Suites on the outskirts of Watersmeet. The U.P. was difficult enough for those in the know to navigate in the winter weather, let alone for strangers. The intel had come from a friend of Big Earl’s in Watersmeet who’d been given the heads up to watch for the invading force. Strangers in this part of Michigan stuck out like men in a lingerie store.

Big Earl leaned his large, muscled body against the diner’s counter. “So, Risto’s ignoring you, huh?”

“Yep, and he isn’t too happy with you, either. You became a traitor to the cause when you poured the wine.” She grinned as Risto shot another in a series of glaring looks at the diner owner. “Better watch it, Big Earl. He might shoot you for corrupting the pregnant lady with demon alcohol.”

Big Earl grunted. “I can put that boy on his ass and he knows it.” She looked at his broad shoulders and muscled forearms covered by a skin-tight ski turtleneck. “Maybe. But he fights dirty. All marines fight dirty.” The big ex-Ranger grinned. “Pansy-assed wusses, the bunch of them. I’ll put my old Ranger buddies up against a unit of marines any day.”

“I heard that,” Risto shouted across the room. “Leave my woman alone or I’ll show you who’s a pansy ass.”

“Chill, Marine, Earl’s keeping me company.” Callie set her glass on the counter and pulled on her coat. “In fact, I’ll just let Big Earl show me the best vantage points for sniping.”

“Just let me get my parka, Callie, and I’ll give you the grand tour.” Big Earl placed a hand under her elbow, leading her to where the jackets were hung. “You’ll want some elevation to get the best view of Main Street and the marina area. I have a couple of places in mind.”

“The grand tour only takes five minutes tops.” Risto put on his parka and moved to her side, shoving Big Earl out of the way. The man laughed and cuffed Risto on the back of the head. Risto slapped Big Earl’s arm out of the way. “We’ll all go and get the lay of the land. It’s dark and starting to snow again. We’ll need to leave soon to get back to the island before the next bout of weather comes through. I want Callie to get some more rest so she’ll be ready for our pre-dawn arrival back here.”

“We won’t be leaving until I find my post.” She turned to smile at the Walsh twins.

“Which one of you hunky SEALs is going to be my spotter?”

“They aren’t that hunky,” Risto grumbled and anchored her to his side with an arm around her waist.

The Walsh brothers laughed at the signs of Risto’s jealousy. Loren, the twin with green eyes—Paul’s were blue, eye color being the only difference between the identical twins—answered, “I am. I lost the toss.”

Callie punched Loren’s arm. “Ass! I’ll tell your sister you flipped a coin to see who’d be stuck with me.”

“Go ahead,” Loren said, laughing. “I can take the imp.”

Paul snorted. “Ren has taught Keely new moves since the last time you wrestled her.

I’d bet on the imp.”

Loren shook his head and cuffed his brother. “The day I can’t take our little sister in hand-to-hand is the day I admit you’re smarter than me—and that ain’t ever gonna happen.”

Callie laughed. The twins were always attempting to one-up each other. From her previous experiences, the two were evenly matched in most respects. “Well, Loren, you need to come along with us. As my spotter, you’ll need an even more expanded field of vision.”

“What’re you shooting?” Loren asked.

“I’ll be using a Lapua with all the extras. Risto has a sweet arsenal. He even had a hand-held targeting computer, though I like to check the computer targeting calculations against my own through the scope. What are you carrying?”

“My Barrett M107,” said Loren. “It’s accurate to two thousand meters. How far out you planning on being, Callie?”

“She’ll be at the maximum for the Lapua—fifteen hundred meters,” Risto stated, a don’t-mess-with-me tone in his voice.

“She can hit a moving target that far away?” one of the locals asked, his skepticism clearly etched on his face.

The other three Yoopers displayed the same incredulity. They’d see tomorrow. The killing would take an additional emotional toll on her, but Risto would be there to help her process through it. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had a man who cared and would stand between her and anything.

“Yeah, I can,” she reassured the men before Loren or Paul spoke for her. They knew her training; they’d shared it growing up on marine bases. “I may not make the kill shot every time, but the .338 cartridge can take down a hippo. So, any mid-torso shot should do the trick.”