Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (37 page)

Three men, shot like nothing at all. Bang.
Gone.

Andra crossed herself and then realized what
she’d done. Slipping back into old ways of doing things and old
methods of thinking wasn’t going to help.

To these people, she was the assassin who
flew all over Europe, and once to Japan, for contracts—the one who
lit a candle for each victim.

The SUV which ambushed them had held four
guys. Two were sitting up front now, one driving and two behind.
They flanked Palmer and Andra in the middle row.

The deputy had seemed as surprised as she was
when four Hispanic guys jumped out. Likely he’d never met drug
runners or mercenaries or hit men in Sanctuary. Not Venezuelan
ones, anyway. Apparently Palmer had been expecting someone
else—Congressman Thane probably—and not four guys who shot the
three airmen in cold blood. He’d puked on the road.

Way to show them you’re a tough guy.

Now he was sitting beside her, looking smug.
Probably figured these were just hirelings and he was on his way to
get paid.

Little did he know.

The front passenger glanced at the driver and
Andra got a full look at the scar running from the corner of his
eye to his chin. “Highway goes another thirty miles before we hit
town.”

Palmer glanced between the two men with just
his eyes. Andra knew he didn’t understand a word of the Spanish
they were speaking. She was having trouble enough, given their
accents and the slang terms they used. European Spanish had some
differences to it, much like the variations in phrasing used by
Americans and Brits.

The driver said, “He’ll be there with the
plane?”

“Si. He’s on route now.”

“And the government man?”

“Already waiting for us.”

“Good,” the driver chuckled. “I’m ready to
get paid and have him do the dirty work. Getting this moron to come
along so he can take the blame for it all was a great idea.”

Andra stared out the window at low grass and
shrubs whizzing by as the SUV roared down the highway. So they were
going to kill Palmer and double-cross Thane?

“The boss doesn’t care about any of that. All
he wants is the other fed.”

Her stomach did a backflip. John? She
probably would have thrown up thinking about John being killed by
these guys but there wasn’t anything in her stomach. They didn’t
want her, or Palmer or Thane. Just the money.

And their boss wanted John.

Her head swam. John would be blown apart like
the airmen, giving her a courteous smile one moment and then dead
the next. Tossed aside like trash.

“What about the girl?”

She stiffened. They weren’t going to kill
her?

“What do you think I’m going to do with her?”
The driver chuckled a low laugh. “After, if the boss isn’t going to
keep her for himself, we can sell her.”

The guy in the passenger seat turned to her.
She could feel his stare. “Once she’s fixed up a bit, we should be
able to get a good price.”

Andra shifted. Her ribs hurt, but not as bad
as they would had John not tightened the vest so much. She closed
her eyes, trying not to let her mind run through the implications
of what they were talking about.

You’re really going to push me this far,
God?

Asking her to hold her peace and go to jail
for life was one thing. Doing nothing while
that
happened
was entirely another.

She squeezed her eyes so hard the swollen one
hurt.
Don’t make me do this.

If it came down to it, Andra might not be
able to stop herself from trying to kill them before she let that
happen. She couldn’t even defend herself? She’d made a promise when
she became a Christian she wouldn’t kill. Period. Was she wrong to
have made that promise? She couldn’t have known something like this
was going to happen. Would she have to take back her word?

And yet, this wasn’t just about her. They
wanted John, probably dead or eventually they’d kill him. God must
have brought her here so she could get John clear of the threat
hanging over his head. If she could do the same for herself or if
John managed it, then they might be even. Free to go their separate
ways. She wouldn’t always feel like she owed him for saving her
from Palmer and Thane.

She could quit WITSEC, but she needed to be
able to do so with a clean slate. If the threat was eliminated then
she would be released from the program. That was the only way she
would be able to see Helena; to live her life as a free woman for
the first time in…forever.

But John was in Sanctuary. He didn’t even
know any of this was happening. Her stomach sank. John was going to
try and rescue her.

He must have figured Palmer would lead him to
whoever was behind this. He was determined to set everything right
so she could come back. But what was the point, unless he thought
it meant they would be together.

“No.”

The two guys in front chuckled. “I guess she
understands.”

Palmer laughed too, though not because he
knew what they thought was funny. He leaned over and grabbed her
chin, forcing her to look at him. “Won’t be long now.”

He was right. It wouldn’t be long.

John was on his way and these guys knew he
was coming. The trap would spring shut, and he would be dead.

And there was nothing Andra could do about
it.

**

John got between Ben and the Air Force
lieutenant. “This isn’t helping. We know who did this.”

The lieutenant snarled. “So do we.”

“It wasn’t us, it was whoever took my deputy
and the prisoner. If we stand here all day, they’re going to get
away. Do you want that to happen?” John didn’t wait for an answer.
“No. And neither do we. So call more of your guys in to take care
of your people and let us go after them.”

The officer glanced from John to Ben.

Ben said, “Or we can just leave. Since we
have the right to do so.”

John wasn’t sure it was exactly accurate, not
that he knew what the jurisdiction of an air force officer was when
their people had been killed on American soil.

The lieutenant geared up to yell some
more.

“Enough!” Nate emerged from the plane,
hopping down the steps and over to them on his boot.

The airmen who’d flown the lieutenant in,
both gaped. One turned to the other. “Dude, it’s the Dolphin’s
quarterback.”

“Nate Mason, nice to meet you.” He flashed
his million dollar smile—okay, it might be good for something—and
lifted his hands, placating everyone. “Let’s all take a second.
Something tragic has happened, but my brothers and I—”

The two airmen and the lieutenant all glanced
between the three of them, like they were trying to see the
similarities. One whispered, “This is so cool. Look, one’s a
marshal.”

Like John hadn’t already introduced
himself.

Nate said, “We really need to go after these
guys. We want to get them as much as you do. The woman my brother
loves is in that car, along with a man trying to frame her for a
murder she didn’t commit. You see, she used to be an—”

John swung around. “They don’t need all the
details.”

“Okay.” The lieutenant sighed. “I’m not
leaving. You can go, but I want to be briefed.” His dark eyes
focused on John. “And you better get these guys.”

John nodded.

They sprinted back to the plane. Ben shut the
door and said, “Nate, did you have to almost tell them Andra was an
assassin?”

He lifted his hands. “What? I was on a
roll.”

“Can we just go?” John went to the front and
regained his seat. Ben turned them around, and John called Grant
while they took off.

“Hey brother.” Grant blew out a breath. “I’m
on my way to you. I heard word through official channels about what
happened. Although there was some question as to whether you guys
were the killers. I explained the situation to the General and he’s
mobilizing personnel, so you’ll have help. The FBI got on the line
and they have two teams, including SWAT, coming up from their
satellite office in Boise.”

“I appreciate that.” Then again, it might not
be a help. John prayed they wouldn’t get there until after the
danger was over. He didn’t particularly want to go up against four
guys, plus Palmer. Not when it was just him and Ben. Extra people
meant the operation got a whole lot more complicated, and he wasn’t
going to wait for anyone else’s go-ahead. “So where are we
headed?”

“Satellite image shows the men in the SUV
loaded up Palmer and Ms. Caleri, and went south. There’s a mountain
town a sixty-five miles away.”

“Why would they head there? You think they’re
going to stop or keep driving through?”

“I’m thinking they’re going to try and use
the airstrip just outside of town. The Kicking Corral ranch is
there, and they have a small aircraft. The runway is a little short
but Ben might be able to land.”

John stared out the window. More mountains.
“Will we get there ahead of them?”

“Maybe.”

“So they could see the plane and make a run
for it. We’ll scare them off.”

“It’s possible. But those are your
choices.”

“Got it.” John hung up. Guess he was going to
have to pray again.

**

Andra winced, but she didn’t want the guy
pulling her along to know she had cracked ribs. The driver pulled
the SUV inside a barn. The farmhouse had cracked windows and a
boarded up front door with a sign saying, “No Entry”.

He tugged her into the barn and shoved her
toward the back corner. “Boss should be here in fifteen.”

Hadn’t he said the “government man” would be
waiting? She glanced around. Palmer looked like he was watching for
something to happen.

The guy nearest the door pulled it open and
Congressman Thane strode in, the bulk of his girth hanging over his
belt. His face was red, as though he’d run a 5K before he came
here.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and
wiped his shiny forehead. “Gentlemen.”

Thane’s eyes settled on Andra and all the
hatred the town of Sanctuary had shown toward her was there, times
a thousand.

The Venezuelan with the scar strode forward,
holding out a tablet. “Enter your account number and we can begin
the transfer.”

Thane tore his gaze from her and pecked the
numbers on the screen with his meaty index finger. “There.”

He strode past the man, dismissing him, and
walked until his face was an inch from Andra’s. “I’ve waited a long
time for this.” His breath smelled like spicy chips. “Years, where
all I’ve dreamed of is killing you with my bare hands the way you
killed Andrew.”

Andra didn’t give him the satisfaction of
trembling; though her stomach hurt from how tight she held it. She
sucked in a breath half the depth of her normal lung capacity.
Likely pretty soon she would pass out. Which should make this
easier, even if there were some things she’d like to do before
then.

She said, “Drew spoke of his godfather often.
I figured if anyone could find me it would be that man.
So…bravo.”

He flinched, eyes wide. “You’re
congratulating me?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Just a little
sentiment, one killer to another.”

That appealed to his pride. When he took her
elbow, he was smirking. They got two steps before the Venezuelan
closest to him pulled his gun up and shot the Congressman in the
chest.

Andra jerked to a stop.

The Venezuelan shifted and shot Palmer, who
was fumbling for his weapon. The bullet hit him low on his torso.
Blood soaked his shirt and the vest he was wearing. Palmer glanced
from the gun to the open front of his jacket, wide eyed.

He collapsed.

“Pitiful, really.” The Spanish words were
full of disgust. The Venezuelan strode to the door and cracked it
an inch so he could look out. “How long?”

His associate, who had just watched two
murders with no reaction, said, “Two minutes.”

Sure enough, the sound of engines preceded a
small aircraft landing behind the barn. The Venezuelan with the
scar pulled the doors open and a man stepped into the room. His
suit was Italian and extremely well cut, and he had rings on at
least four fingers. His gaze flitted over the two dead guys and
settled on her. “Excellent.” He glanced at scar guy. “When is Mr.
Mason expected?”

Scar guy pulled out a phone. “I’ll make the
call now and confirm.” He ducked out and the guy in the Italian
suit followed.

The other two stepped closer to Andra. One on
each side of her, both held automatic weapons. One glanced over to
the other. “I don’t know why we can’t do him the same way we did
Alphonz.”

Andra waited for more.

“Rats deserve it, but undercover feds get
more. The boss doesn’t like being played for a fool.”

“True.”

They both nodded, making “mm-hm” noises in
their throats.

One motioned back toward her with a tilt of
his head. “You think we have time to…”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

Andra looked down at where Congressman Thane
lay beside her. His suit jacket had flapped open onto the straw on
the floor. An expensive-looking gold pen was tucked in his inside
breast pocket. A piece of wood lay on the other side of her, long
enough and thick enough to do some damage.

She hefted it up in a swing toward the guy on
the right, ignoring the screaming pain in her ribs. The wood
cracked across the back of his head and he went down. The other guy
turned with his gun. She side-swiped the weapon with her palm,
whipping it across her body. It cleared her torso before it let
rip, the noise like fireworks. She punched and kicked, trying to
get his legs out from under him, but the guy weighed probably twice
what she did.

His punch came out of nowhere. It slammed
into her swollen eye like a thousand flare guns lit off inside her
head. Andra collapsed back and his weight slammed into her. She
grasped for his face, but her fingers were slick with sweat.