Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

LOCKE

T he alert hit my phone within seconds of me opening my eyes. I had no idea if it was the alert that woke me, or something else. I rolled off the bed, already dressed. I had final watch for the night. It was the most challenging, because it was in the slower, darker hours when I most often wanted to sleep

But I'd trained myself to be a light sleeper a long time prior. I always woke at two, dressed, did a sweep of the house and confirmed that McQuade or Remy—whomever had the first shift—was knocking off to get sleep. Then I returned to my room and put my feet up. I could doze just as easily as sleep.

My internal clock was more reliable than any watch. It knew exactly how long I was allowed to sleep before I did a sweep. It had been less than thirty minutes since the previous sweep. The fact the alert hit my phone confirmed why I was awake.

One glance at the screens told me why.

Fuck.

Straight out of my room, I crossed the hall and opened McQuade's. "We've got company," I told the man who sat up as soon as I pushed the door inward. He was up and I pivoted to alert Remy on my way to scooping up Patch.

Remington's door was already open.

Convenient.

Go bag in hand, I headed for the kitchen, following the scent of coffee. The assassin was definitely in the kitchen, wrapped around a dynamite package with dark tipped blonde hair and a sassy mouth.

Not that I could see said sassy mouth because the British assassin was currently devouring it, while gripping her braid in one hand. Filing all of it away for later, I cleared my throat.

They didn't spring apart so much as Patch gave a jerk and twisted in Remy's arms. While he just gave me a look of mild irritation. Swollen, pink lips that were extremely kissable parted as she stared at me. In the half-light of the kitchen, her pupils were the size of saucers and she was absolutely delicious.

Right. Filing that away too.

"We've got company. Patch, grab your go bag. You're with me." The passion on Remy's face vanished as he released her and pivoted to study the screen showing us the SUVs coming up the long drive.

Five of them.

If we could see five, then the chances were highly likely there were far more out there.

"Go," Remy said, turning to Patch and giving her a gentle push toward him. "Trust Locke. He knows where we're meeting. Stay with him."

"I—"

"Don't argue, woman," McQuade snapped as he strode through the room, armed for bear. "You can tell us off later. Right now, you need to trust us the way we trust you. Go."

The hitch in her step lasted for three seconds. If she resisted too much, I was going to have to throw her over my shoulder and go. Not ideal.

"Be safe," she said, sounding more Patch than she had in days as she swept her gaze from Remy to McQuade and back. "Don't get dead." Then she looked at me. "I want my machine." She pointed to her computer. "Just the tower, we can replace everything else."

"Got it."

She was already striding for her room and I pulled the plug on the equipment and yanked the cords from the hard drive. Remy slid a case toward me that he'd grabbed from the closet and I set the tower inside it, then locked it closed. It wouldn't protect it from everything, like bullets, but it gave us a better chance of not damaging the equipment on the go.

Not even sixty seconds later and she was back, coat and boots on. She had a bag over her shoulder and she met my gaze as she tugged on a dark hat over her blonde hair. Smart girl. We didn't need any light playing off of her.

"I'm going to move fast, stay with me. If you start to lag at all…"

"I'll say something. Do you need me to carry anything else?"

I shook my head. The plan was pure extraction for us. We were leaving and not looking back. McQuade and Remy would find us after they dealt with the wet team coming to scrub us.

"Let's go."

McQuade and Remy were readying the welcome party for our uninvited guests as Patch followed me out into the snow. The cold air was biting, but it slapped what little sleep out of me that remained.

We needed to double-time it across the open field to the trees, then continue southeast at a jog. Keeping Patch in my periphery, I set the pace. I had a longer stride than she did, but we were going to create a disturbance in the snow one way or another so I didn't bother with trying to keep it clear.

The wind might do us some favors. Her breath came in swift pants by the time we reached the woods. We'd just cleared the first tree when I caught the sound of a motor. They were moving fast.

We had to go faster.

I shot her a look, her face had been flushed pink under the half-moon shining above. But what little light it had provided us was gone in the trees.

"Can you grip my belt?" I asked.

"Yes." She slid fingers around one of my belt loops. Close enough.

"Try to follow my steps. I know the route by heart and I'll avoid the thicker roots."

We couldn't afford a flashlight out here. Patch soldiered on, staying with me and not complaining. The distant sound of gunfire made her jerk once. If I had a hand free, I'd take her hand but all I could do was glance over my shoulder.

"They were ready for them," I said. "Keep moving."

Three miles had never seemed to take so long before, but we exited the woods less than thirty yards from the oversized storage barn where we'd moved the mobile unit. We'd done some of the harder work prior to the trip south.

After that went sideways, McQuade relocated it so we had it ready for a fast exodus. Her breath still came in swift pants but she wasn't slowing down. At the door to the barn, she went around me and hauled it open.

At my gimlet glare, she said, "You have your hands full. I can open a door."

Yes she could, but it also put her in the line of fire if someone was in there. Since no other alarms had been tripped, we were safe. Didn't mean I had to like it.

She let out a gasp when she saw the massive 18-wheeler parked inside. The tires were reinforced and bullet resistant. It had full armor plating, though hidden under a few coats of paint. The back was fully outfitted and even had a generator.

"Close that and come on," I told her as I headed for the cab. I got the passenger door opened. Climbing up, I stored the case with her tower and my go bag, then reached for hers.

Her breath fogged the air as she passed it to me. Then she shot a look to the other, larger doors.

"Trust me," I said, holding a hand to her. "Up you come."

She caught my hand and though she was climbing, I hauled her up and gave her a boost into the passenger seat. She let out a little laugh, that was more stress than humor. "These things are huge."

"That's the idea." I winked and once she was in, I closed the door and dropped to the ground before circling the building. I double checked we weren't plugged in or tangled up with anything.

Last time I'd been out here, we'd gone over everything one more time. All three of us had keys. So it didn't matter who had extraction, we could get her out of here. In the driver's seat, I got the engine started. Diesel engines weren't the quietest, and something this large was bound to be noisy.

Could be worse. I went over the console, and the controls. Reminded myself where everything was then shut off the auto lights that had come on as soon as I started the vehicle.

"Buckle up," I told Patch. "And be ready to climb right up into the back here behind me." With a thumb I gestured to the bed area at the back of the cab.

"Okay…" The half-dazed note made me focus on her closely.

"Minimizing you as a target, Fallon." The use of her real name gave her a little start and she shot me a look. Good girl. Stay alert. "Right now, you're fine there. We have two shotguns behind the seats and locked in. Just pop the notch next to them and pull it out if you need it."

I also had a handgun and my knives. I was never going to be the biggest fan of guns. They were effective, however, and McQuade loaded these with enough buckshot to challenge an elephant. They wouldn't necessarily kill someone, but they would definitely take them down and leave them in a lot of pain.

There was also a 12-gauge with specialized frag shells. Those could take out an IED or blow the hinges off a door. Removing limbs wouldn't be a problem.

"Shotguns behind us. Use the notch to get them out, point and shoot."

"More or less." I wasn't going to go over it any further. She knew how to shoot a gun. That was enough. If it came down to her having to fire one of those guns, we were going to be in a world of hurt.

I checked my watch then hit the remote on the sun visor. The double doors on the far side began to roll open swiftly and silently. They'd been oiled to hell and gone to prevent the sound from carrying. Putting the truck into gear, I accelerated out slowly.

One glance at my side mirror told me the running lights were still off. So we pulled out onto this narrow little road that barely qualified for the designation. The gravel under the snow crunched as the tires left deeper grooves. Again, we were gonna leave a footprint.

Ideally, it would be a very long while before anyone saw it. The slow pace might have aggravated me if I hadn't spent a lifetime cultivating patience. Every job was different. Faster was not always better. In fact, faster could sometimes just get you caught and nothing else.

Behind us the huge doors to the barn would have closed once we'd cleared them. I didn't look back or turn us around to check. Everything important was already on the hauler except for the two men who would be meeting us down the road.

If they made it…

I kept that part to myself too. The seriousness of the situation was absolutely present. We agreed to only split up if the arriving force was too much for two people to take easily.

Five SUVs?

That was easily twenty guys, probably more. It was always the ones we couldn't see. I resisted the urge to keep scanning the skies as we crawled along the tree canopied road deeper into the frozen night.

The first turn was to the left and I eased us around it and then we were on a slightly larger road. This one had two lanes instead of only one. It wasn't as heavy with the snow. Sand and salt mixture provided grit for the tires. It also let me accelerate.

Patch sat silently next to me. Almost too silent and too still despite the agitation vibrating the air around her. She was worried, and who could blame her. The plan had been solid because we'd mapped the route to follow to get away and to avoid the most natural routes that approached the cabin.

The barn wasn't even located on the same property as the cabin. So it wouldn't necessarily get flagged right away. Fifteen grueling minutes later, I flicked on the headlights and the running lights. Patch let out a little gasp of surprise. I kind of wanted to tease her, but I would save that for later.

At the state highway, we turned fully south and increased our speed. There were more vehicles on the road. Trucks like ours. A handful of cars. It would get thicker soon. In fifty more miles, we'd reach the interstate and a main transit artery for the state.

For now, we looked clear. I checked the side mirrors and then glanced at Patch. "We're good."

"Are you sure?" she asked in the shakiest voice I'd ever heard from her.

"Yep," I said, injecting a little more confidence than I probably should at this point. But it was seventy-thirty in our favor. Okay sixty-five, thirty-five, but close enough. "They'll handle the cleanup and we'll see them by the end of the day."

She blew out a long breath. I could almost feel her trying to get her breathing under control. It was okay for her to be scared, but she didn't need or want platitudes right now.

"I've learned a very important thing this morning," she said finally.

"What's that?"

"I have serious control issues."

The deadpan delivery of the unexpected line made me laugh. She glared at me as I chuckled, but not for long. Soon her laughter joined mine.

Was it a little hysterical? Probably, but we could both use a break.