The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga (49 page)

"Keep an eye on her, sir, but watch your back.
 
We'll continue this discussion later."
 
He turned to leave and motioned for Deuce to leave the room.
 
He shut the door behind him and said, “Nobody goes in or out of this room until I come back."

Chad listened for a few moments as their footsteps moved to the front of the building.
 
Thunder crashed overhead, as if to put emphasis on their situation.

He turned and looked at 13.
 
"What was all
that
about?"

She sighed and lay back on the cot, resting her head on the small pillow.
 
Her hands traced the bandage Garza had wrapped around her shapely thigh.
 
Her eyes closed.
 
"I don't know."

Chad opened his mouth to ask about Reginald, then checked himself.
 
Maybe Alston’s right.
 
Why lie about knowing this guy?
 
He decided to press her further when the first gunshots rang out.
 

Chad ducked instinctively and looked around.
 
“What was that?”

13 slid off the bench and dropped to the floor in a crouch.
 
“Get down!"
 
She grabbed his arm and jerked him to the floor next to her.
 

More shots rang out—to Chad's ears, they sounded like the sharp, short bark of a pistol.
 

When Alston’s men returned fire, it sounded like open warfare inside the church.
 
Despite 13’s protests, Chad made his way to the small window near the priest’s well-worn desk.
 
He peered through the iron bars.
 
The bumps and ridges of the textured stained-glass window made it difficult to see what was on the other side.
 
Suddenly, a dark shape filled the frame and Chad jumped back.
 
“Shit!”

"Who was that?" whispered 13.

He crouched down and quickly crossed back to her.
 
"I can’t tell, but I think we’re in trouble here."
 
He started for the door.
   

"Where are do you think you’re going?
 
You don’t have a weapon,"
 
she called out.

Despite the growing number of questions about her background and what he’d seen her do, Chad couldn’t deny his Texan roots—he still felt an urge to protect her.
 
Even if she could kick his ass.
 
He winked and turned back to the door.
 
The sound of the gunfire intensified.
 
Whatever was going on out there, the firefight was growing hotter.
 
Chad slowly reached out and turned the doorknob.
 
When the door cracked open the sound that assaulted his ears was even much louder than he’d anticipated.
 

"Over there!
 
Move around to the left," Alston yelled.
 

"Got him!” Garza replied.
 
Gunfire echoed back and forth across the church and Chad could hear the
tinkling
of brass shells hitting the wooden pews.
 

He stuck his head out the vestry door and heard pounding from the hallway to the left, behind a statue of the Virgin Mary.
 
He saw a faint beam of light appear at the bottom of the door.

"Hey!" he roared as the gunfire nearest him stopped.
 
"Somebody’s trying to break down the back door!"
 

Deuce, at his position near a window on the north side of the building, turned.
 
Chad pointed frantically, gesturing down the hallway.

“On it!” called out Deuce.
 
He had one of the Marines cover his position by the window.
 
Deuce ran past Chad and said, “Get your ass back in that room!"

Chad stepped back but didn't shut the door.
 
"What’s going on?"
 

Over his shoulder, Deuce answered, “What the fuck do you think?
 
We’re under attack—get back inside!"

Chad remained in the entrance to the priest’s vestry.
 
He knew he had to get out of the building, but he didn't know where to go or what to do.
 

Behind him, 13 shouted, “What are you doing?
 
Get back in here!”

Chad heard increased gunfire coming from the emergency exit before Deuce’s shout was cut off by the unmistakable retort of a shotgun, followed by two pistol shots in quick succession.
 

Alston’s men called for covering fire.
 
Chad heard words like “fall back” and “new firing position” over the ruckus.
   

White smoke billowed out of the emergency exit hallway.
 
As his eyes began to water, he felt 13 grab his arm and yank him back inside before slamming the door.
 
13 pointed at the bench: “Move that to block the door while I find something to smash the window.”
 

"We can’t just leave the—” Chad began.

“Hurry!
 
The soldiers won’t be able to protect us much longer.”
   

The door opened before Chad could block it.
 
The biggest man he'd ever seen filled the door frame, decked out in what looked like a police officer’s tactical uniform, complete with a full-face gas mask.
 
He wore a bulky bulletproof vest splattered with blood.
 
He rushed into the room and grabbed both Chad and 13 by their hair.
 
The man dragged them out of the vestry, past the altar, and down to the emergency exit through the smoke.

Chad tried to yell for help, but between the smoke—which he realized was teargas—and the raging battle inside the church, no one heard.

He clawed at the emergency exit’s door frame as he was dragged by his scalp toward the storm outside.
 
Chad shouted till his throat hurt, but there was nothing anyone could do.
 
He was enveloped by the thick, acrid smoke and his eyes reflexively closed against the intense burning.
 
Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face as he coughed and gagged.
 
Next to him, he sensed 13 landing blow after blow against their captor’s body to no effect.
 

Chad grew frantic when he felt the cool air outside strike his skin and the noise of the gunfight dropped off
 
into the background.
 
Rain hit his face like a cold shower.
 
Over the noise of the storm, he heard the echo of shots fired into the church and the muted roar of return fire.
 

The cop dragged him and 13 away from the church.
 
Through squinted eyes, Chad saw a blurry image of the church as he passed around the corner of a building just to the south.
 
They were being dragged away from their saviors.
 
Chad felt reasonably certain that whoever the cop was working for, they knew who he was—and therefore he was relatively safe.
 
His blood would be no good if he was killed.
 
But 13…

The cold rain washed the effects of the teargas from his system and Chad was able to take his first deep breaths of air, saturated with the rain that fell from the sky and soaked him to the bone.
 
It wasn’t easy to breathe, but it was easier than it had been a moment before.
 
He tried to scramble to his feet to relieve the painful burning of his scalp as he was forced along behind the cop.
 
The rain-slicked pavement and mounds of trash on the ground made it difficult to walk.
 
He tried shouting again.

Slowly began Chad to regain his ability to walk and stopped struggling as much against the iron grip of Robocop—it wasn’t doing any good anyway.
 
He noticed the officer did not let up as he stopped resisting, but the urgency with which the man dragged him away from the church diminished.

Chad did his best to stare into the rain and let the cold water wash the painful chemicals from his eyes.
 
Despite the fact that his eyes still burned, at least his vision had returned.
 
He shook his head in an attempt to clear the water and the cop jerked his neck and pulled forward.

“What the hell?" Chad said in a choked voice.
 
He was rewarded with a coughing fit that nearly made him double over.
 
The cop pulled him back up and dragged him farther away from the church down an alley.
 
Gunfire echoed off the buildings nearby and grew more muffled by the storm with every step.
 

He heard 13 coughing painfully.
 
He hoped he didn’t sound that bad but guessed he probably sounded worse.
 
He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he was sure that if he showed any signs of emotional attachment to her, the cop would probably use that against him.
 
And her.

“Help!” Chad hollered.
 
“Captain Alston!”
 

"Shut the fuck up!" growled the deep voice of the cop, muffled by his gas mask.

Without warning, the big man turned and Chad felt himself flung against a brick wall.
 
13 landed with a grunt next to him.
 
He looked over at her and she winked one bloodshot, tear-filled eye to let him know she was okay.

Chad looked up through the rain at the mountain of a man that stood before them.
 
He wore a sodden, bulletproof vest that had
SWAT
stenciled in white letters across his chest.
 
He ignored Chad and gave 13 a silent once-over as he peeled off the gas mask and dropped it with a splash to the ground.
 
His face was scratched and bruised, like he’d been in a bar fight.
 
A vicious smile spread across his wide lips.
 

"Cliffy-boy didn't mention anything about findin’ a little treat like you in all this mess…" The cop shifted his feet and placed his hands on his pistol belt.
 
He removed a pair of handcuffs and tossed them at Chad.
 
“Here, do us both a favor, and put these on.”

Chad caught the handcuffs but made no move to comply.

“Don’t make me ask twice now,” the cop warned.
 
He stifled a cough and spat a glob of phlegm into the water at his feet.
 
He turned back to 13.
 
“What's your name, sugar?"

Chad tried step away from the wall and address the police officer.
 
"Who the hell are you?
 
Why did you drag us out of there—where are you taking us?”

The cop put one meaty hand on Chad's chest and shoved him back against the wall—hard.
 
Chad's teeth clicked together as the back of his head connected with the wet bricks.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are—I don't know why Mosby thinks you’re so damn important, but you need to shut up," the cop said as he snatched the cuffs and snapped them on Chad’s wrists.
 
His hands were restrained in front of his body and the officer, true to his word, had put the cuffs on painfully tight.
 
"Cliff said you had to be alive when I brought you in—he didn't say I couldn't beat the living shit out of you first.”
 
The cop’s angry face softened as he turned to look at 13.
 
"And he sure as hell didn't mention anything at all about
you
, sweetness.”
 
He coughed again.
 
“Think I’ll keep you for myself.
 
Cliff owes me anyway—you’ll be payment.”

"Where are you taking us?"
 
13 asked in a tremulous voice.
 
Her Scandinavian accent was suddenly very strong and her wide, innocent blue eyes had an immediate effect on the cop.

He whistled.
 
"Oh my, aren't we exotic?”
 
He wiped rain from his face and glared at the sky, as if that would make it stop the torrential downpour.
 
“Where you from, honey—one of them Viking countries?"

Chad was impressed with 13’s acting ability.
 
The sweet shyness she displayed as she softly replied, "Sweden," would have fooled anyone if they hadn’t seen her fight.
 

The cop whistled again.
 
"Well, I gotta take your friend here over to the airfield, but what you think about takin’ a ride after we drop him off?”

13 looked around and blinked.
 
"I see no car…"

The big cop took a step closer to her and pressed his hips against hers, pinning her against the brick building.
 
Chad clenched his bound fists and gritted his teeth.
 
13 gasped and raised both hands to coyly push against the cop’s chest.
 
He caught her wrists, lifted them over her head and held them pinned against the wall with one meaty hand.
 
“Don’t worry, I got something for you to ride, honey…”

Anger flared inside Chad quicker than he could've imagined.
 
He lunged at the cop’s side in an awkward attempt to knock him off balance and release 13.
 
Without looking, the cop swung his left hand and the big fist connected with Chad's face, knocking him backwards into a pile of trash.
 
Chad blinked through the pain and looked up from the ground surrounded by rain-soaked filth and rotted garbage.

The cop was still pressed against 13's body, glaring down at him and laughing.
 
"Look, I promised I wouldn't kill you, son.
 
But I suggest you back the hell off so I don't have to
hurt
you, okay?"
 
He turned back to 13 and used his free hand to caress her sodden hair.
 
"I'm thinking maybe we take a ride
before
we drop your friend off.
 
I can handcuff him to something to keep him from running—”