Unbound Pursuit (10 page)

“I’m sayin’ nothing, Wyatt.”

He saw the hurt, the worry, in her stormy-looking eyes. He could see how threatened she felt and her panic for her brother as well. Wyatt figured she knew Mark was in the area, but that was as far as it went. He doubted his friend of so many years would be stupid enough to legally implicate his sister, whom he’d damn near died for while growing up. Mark would protect her at all costs. Sage had been called in for questioning when Mark was arrested but had been cleared of any illegal activity.

Mark’s old man had put him in the hospital once, beating the hell out of him with his fists when he was ten years old and trying to protect Sage. The ugly truth that her father had sexually molested her for years had finally come out. When Mark was old enough to put it together, he began fiercely protecting Sage, and she was never molested again. Wyatt also knew Sage was undyingly loyal to her older brother, too. He’d never thought she’d be easy to convince, and he’d figured she’d act exactly as she was right now. “You don’t need to say a thing, Sage. Look”—he tipped her chin upward with his index finger so that he could hold her gaze—“all I want you to do is tell Mark that he shouldn’t be on Lockwood property tomorrow night with that convoy. If you have a way of contacting him, will you tell him that? None of us wants to see him hurt.”
Or killed.

Taking off her cap, Sage ran her gloved hand through her short, shining hair. “This is a warning.”

Grimly, Wyatt nodded. “Yes, it is. My father isn’t going to allow illegal activity of any kind to happen on our ranch.” He saw Sage’s eyes widen and then deep worry come into them. The corners of her mouth were tucked in tight, telling him she was fighting back a lot of emotions, probably fear for Mark’s life among them. It was justified.

“And you know this how, Wyatt? Are you working with local law enforcement? The Border Patrol? All of them?” she said accusatorily, her voice becoming strained.

Shrugging, Wyatt said gently, “Sage, I really respect you. And Mark was my childhood best friend, too. You two lived through hell growin’ up. I don’t know how you survived, but you did. And now”—he looked up, gesturing around the ranch—“you’ve worked damned hard to bring this place back to its former glory. You
both
deserve a good life, not a bad one. I’m making a neighborly call on you and Mark, is all.” Wyatt drilled her with a look that spoke volumes, and he could see tears suddenly spring to her eyes. Sage cursed under her breath, turning on her heel, pulling her gelding along with her. She mounted up, gave him a regretful last look.

“Thanks for letting me know, Wyatt. I’m sorry your ranch is being pulled into this crap. I’ll see what I can do about contacting Mark, but no promises.” She spun the black gelding around and cantered off for the open range.

Wyatt grimaced, watching her ride off. She was a petite thing, and yet her back was straight, her head held high, so much pride and confidence in her, too. Mark had given his childhood up to protect Sage so she could be normal, or as near to normal as any kid who had lived through the hell she’d experienced. Sage wasn’t dumb. In fact, both children were damned intelligent. Far smarter than the average person, for sure. He turned, sighed, and headed back to the truck that his father had loaned him to drive over to the Reuss Ranch.

If he played his cards right with Sage, she would read between the lines and realize he’d come to warn Mark not to be part of that drug convoy tomorrow night through Rocking L property. That he would be there, as well. Wyatt didn’t want a shoot-out with Mark. He wondered if she had Mark’s cell phone number. Or did she contact him via email? He doubted that, because Mark was now a felon with a prison record. Mark would have trained Sage in black ops ways to get ahold of him without leaving a paper or electronic trail of any kind.

Wyatt wished that he could meet Mark and persuade him to stop whatever was going down tomorrow. His instincts told him that Mark had never stopped loving Mattie, even though he’d vanished on her for the last four months. He and Tal had stayed up until two this morning, working on a huge mission plan. No one was better at strategy and tactics than her. They were a good team. And right now, there was local, regional, and federal law enforcement coming to land foursquare on that convoy when it showed up tomorrow night. And all of the state and federal players were driving up to their ranch to make it HQ for the mission to stop and capture that drug convoy. It was turning out to be one hell of a vacation.

As Wyatt climbed in the truck and started it, he worried for Mark’s life. He had no doubt there would be a shoot-out. If that convoy got cut off, they’d stand and fight it out with law enforcement. That’s the way cartel soldiers did things: kill or be killed. They left no survivors if they got the upper hand. And Mark would be in that melee, on the side of the druggies, firing at law enforcement men and women. He knew Mark wouldn’t ever have done that when he was younger. But now? They’d long since lost touch. It had been seven years since he’d last seen his childhood friend.

Wyatt had seen fear in Sage’s eyes. He was positive she knew what he was really conveying to her. He prayed that she would contact Mark and tell him to stay the hell away from that convoy tomorrow. Blood was going to be spilled. Lives were going to be lost.

T
al’s eyes smarted
with fatigue as she sat in the Lockwood family office. She was surrounded by four different radios, plus a sat phone. Wyatt’s laptop was her main focus, since she was no good for doing much of anything else. It was five p.m. on Saturday, and all of the Lockwood family was pitching in to help. Soon, night would fall. Outside, in the huge gravel parking area, Border Patrol, Texas Rangers, ATF, and DEA equipment was still arriving. Wyatt was out there coordinating with Commander James Watson, DEA, the head of this quickly assembled mission group made up of county, state, and federal agencies, all of whom wanted badly to capture Diego Cardona.

Mattie was working in the kitchen with Daisy, making sandwiches for the hungry law enforcement people, handing out hot coffee to them, and directing those who needed a bathroom. Daisy kept Tal supplied with fresh coffee, too. Cat and Jake took notes out to Wyatt from Tal’s office base so that he knew what was going on at their end in coordinating this unexpected effort with all the agencies. Sometimes he didn’t answer his radio, and she couldn’t talk directly with him. He was that busy. At least Cat and Jake could corner him, slide the note into his hands, and make sure he read it.

Wiping her eyes, Tal heard someone coming down the hall, the heavy thud of footsteps echoing and catching her attention. She looked up to see Wyatt standing in the doorway. He wore his black baseball cap, a level-three Kevlar vest, and a drop holster with his SIG Sauer in it. He was in his ex-SEAL mode, his gray eyes dark, his game face on.

“Hey,” he called, stepping into the office, “how are you doing?” Wyatt shut the door and then went over to where Tal was sitting, giving her a quick kiss on the brow.

“It’s quiet chaos,” she said, wishing she could go out on this mission with Wyatt. Her ankle prevented it, and she felt fully frustrated. “The drones are up. Both are from the DEA.” She switched to another window on the laptop, showing the real-time video feed as each drone flew over different sections of the area where they expected the Cardona unit to come onto the ranch’s property. Wyatt leaned over her shoulder, intently studying the videos. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

“You doin’ okay?”

“Tired,” she admitted, “but also hyped up. You know how it is.” She managed a slight smile, which he returned, looking ruggedly handsome to her.

“I bet you’re chompin’ at the bit to go with us, aren’t you?”

Snorting, Tal muttered darkly, “Oh, don’t even go there, Lockwood. I’m fit to be tied. This desk jockey stuff is for someone else, not me. I hate sitting all the time.”

“Yes,” he said, leaning against the edge of the desk, “but you’re the most important part of all of this. This is Grand Central Terminal. And I’m relieved you’re in command of it. There’s no one better than you to be a rudder to this hastily launched ship.” He gestured with a thumb across his shoulder. “DEA has a real nice eighteen-wheeler office out there, and they’ve also got big flat-screens up on the walls for watching the drone activity.”

“Good thing,” Tal said, looking at the Toughbook screen. “Is everyone assembled?”

“Yes, everyone’s arrived. They’re setting up,” he said, resting his hand on the desk beside the laptop. He gave her an apologetic look. “Not exactly the holiday visit to my family that you wanted. Right?”

She gave him a sour smile. “I can’t say I’m bored, Lockwood. That’s for sure.”

A faint grin crooked one corner of his mouth. “Look, we’re pulling out of here in about twenty minutes. This place should get a lot quieter after that.”

“So the commander has all his units in place along that dirt road?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone know how many vehicles Cardona is sending across?” Tal was worried about that. They had fifty law enforcement agents, and that was it. Assembling a team for a major op like this within twenty-four hours wasn’t easy to pull off.

“We won’t know until the drones pick them up. Well”—his grin grew—“at least one SEAL counts as ten extra agents on this op.”

She slapped his hand. “You’re so full of yourself!” It was a typical SEAL rejoinder, and Tal couldn’t help but laugh and hold his gleaming, amused gaze. The confidence a SEAL had was matched by hardly anyone else. Except for a Marine, of course. She felt his love surround her as his eyes grew soft. He reached over, grazing her cheek.

“I love you,” he said gruffly, cupping her face, leaning forward, and capturing her mouth.

Heat moved like wildfire through Tal, and she absorbed the tender kiss that he gave her. Wyatt was a SEAL and always would be. He was the consummate warrior, one of the best trained in the world. She was privy to his soft side, the teaser, the joker, the lover, and now, his incredible tenderness. Tal made a small sound of pleasure in her throat as he lifted his mouth from her lips. “Mmm, can we take this up to your bedroom?”

She saw him straighten and give her a regretful shake of his head. “Ain’t gonna happen, at least not in the next twenty-four hours.” He slid his fingers through her silky, loose black hair. “After that, you’d better watch out.”

Her worry was soothed for a moment by his warmth and attention. “Are you going to be allowed to take part in the op?”

“Yes. I’ll be all right.”

Mouth quirking, she sat back in the chair, rocking it slightly, giving him a bemused look. “Spoken like a SEAL.”

Wyatt glanced at his watch and gave her a look of apology. “Gotta saddle up, darlin’,” he told her. Rubbing her shoulder, he said, “Don’t worry.”

Placing her hand over his, Tal became serious, looking into his eyes. “I love you. Don’t you
dare
get killed out there, Wyatt. I’ll haunt you in the afterlife, damn it.”

Turning her hand over, he gently kissed her palm and then stood up. “I’ll be fine. Just wait and see . . .”

*

Wyatt was out
at the dirt road an hour later, hidden behind a slope of the dark, shadowy Guadalupe Mountains. It was nine p.m., the stars twinkling in the velvet-black Texas sky above them. The wind was sporadic, biting, and below freezing. Wearing his black nylon jacket, the collar up, a dark blue knit scarf wrapped around his neck and ears, Wyatt knelt behind a thicket with several other DEA agents. It was damned cold, made worse by the fact that they had to remain still and could not get up and walk around to warm up.

The commander had arranged a U-shaped ambush of men, women, and DEA equipment a mile down from where Wyatt was located. He was glad Tal was not out here. In a fluid situation like this, a U-shaped ambush was assured not to work. Wyatt had tried to get the commander to put them all in an L-shaped formation instead. A U shape meant that a poorly fired bullet from someone on the west side of the road could wound or kill a team member on the east side of the road. This was a terrible friendly-fire op in the making. Frustration thrummed through him. Obviously, Watson had not had military training.

A Jeep, one eighteen-wheeler truck, and four other dark-colored vehicles, all pickups, were now en route. They had been spotted on the highway, the group speeding through the night. They hadn’t yet turned off onto the dirt road that would lead them onto Rocking L Ranch land. Wyatt was convinced it was Mark Reuss in that Jeep, leading the way. But no one could be sure—yet. Wyatt kept his NVGs hanging around his neck. There was no use in wearing them until later. It was moonless tonight, a new moon. It would have been a picturesque starry winter night if not for the trap that had been laid and was waiting out here for Cardona’s convoy.

His earpiece came to life, announcing that yes, all vehicles in that convoy had just made a right turn onto a road that would eventually lead them to their smaller dirt road where the ambush lay. Wyatt could feel the agents getting tense. They carried M4s, wore Kevlar for protection and NVGs, and were dressed in desert cammos; it looked like a military op. His thoughts moved to Tal, who he knew was probably antsy as hell and wishing she could be part of this op.