Iron Willed Warrior (Last Refuge Protectors #5)

29. Cole

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Cole

The lights of the gatehouse appeared up ahead. Manning white-knuckled the steering wheel.

I kept my handgun in his peripheral vision. “Think of your girl back home. I’m sure you want to see her again.”

“Fuck you, man.” But Manning’s fingers loosened slightly, trying to relax.

The night was pitch black aside from our headlights and the glow of the Stillwater facility. I had decided on taking Manning’s SUV, which had meant leaving my vehicle behind. I’d stripped out the gear from the hidden compartment. I’d also recovered our laptop, the syringe of knock-out meds, and my gun.

It wasn’t ideal to leave our car, especially considering that it was full of physical evidence. Like Brynn’s blood. But the car itself was untraceable. Provided courtesy of River and the Protectors. If possible, we would go back for it. Also to bury O’Hanlon and deal with Lance the hotel clerk, should he remain alive. If highway patrol somehow stumbled upon that scene, Lance would only be able to say Cameron Clay had done it. More likely, he’d claim no knowledge. After all, he’d conspired to kidnap two hotel guests .

But those were concerns for later. I had to find my partner first. The woman who had her fingers around my heart, and if I was lucky, she’d never let me go.

If Ryker or Westwick had harmed her…

I swallowed and settled back in the passenger seat. “How many guards?” I asked for maybe the fifth time.

“I told you .”

He rattled through the same details. One or two guards at the gatehouse. But more guards farther inside the property. Brynn would be well defended. Was he exaggerating to scare me, or underestimating to lull me? Brynn and I hadn’t seen many guards when we came to the solar plant last night.

“And yet, I still don’t trust you, Manning. Why on earth could that be? Oh, right. You were going to murder me.”

“Asshole,” he muttered. “I’ve done everything you asked.”

“At gunpoint. Which means you’re smart. Keep cooperating and you’ll survive this.”

“We’ll have to stop at the gate. Like I told you already.”

“I know. But here’s how it’ll go. You won’t stop. You’ll speed up and drive on.”

Manning scowled, glancing at me. “They’ll shoot at us!”

“It’s possible.”

I was wearing a ballistic vest from our stash of gear. Plus a hat pulled low. Last night, when I had driven past that gatehouse on the way out, the guard had barely glanced at me. He’d had no reason to scrutinize me. But this time, we were going in.

At first glance, the guard at the gate would probably take me for O’Hanlon since Manning was in the driver seat. But the masquerade wouldn’t last long. Especially if Manning did something to tip them off. And I didn’t have a single ounce of faith that Manning wouldn’t try to screw me over at the first opportunity .

Our best shot was to just drive. The guards at the gatehouse would recognize Manning.

“They might be pissed,” I said, “but they won’t shoot you. I know you and Ryker were here just yesterday. Right? With Westwick and Masterson?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I’m psychic.”

“They’ll be suspicious. They’ll try to stop the car.”

“You think they won’t be suspicious if they see me instead of O’Hanlon? Wave and smile. Flash your ID. I don’t give a shit. Just keep driving or I’ll shoot you.”

We were almost there. The tall chain-link gate was open on the entrance side. By the exit, the gate was closed. I only saw one figure inside the little gatehouse building. I lowered the gun to keep it beneath the line of the windows.

Manning’s fingers were back to white. Clenching and releasing.

As we neared, the guard stepped outside. Still casual. He expected this car’s arrival.

“Speed up,” I said.

Manning accelerated. The guard started to wave at us, like he was warning us to slow down.

But instead of just driving past, Manning suddenly veered to the right. Floored the accelerator. I realized what he was doing a second before we hit the heavy concrete post bordering that side of the fence.

The airbags exploded. I slammed into the seatbelt and the bag. The car bucked and shuddered and crunched.

Quiet descended briefly. The air smelled singed. My ears rang. I was dazed, especially because my head was still fuzzy from the hit I had taken earlier. But I snapped to awareness when I felt Manning groping for my gun.

I pointed it at him and pulled the trigger twice. The first went through his airbag and spiderwebbed the driver’s side window, what little I could see. The second hit Manning in the torso beneath his outstretched arm. He grunted. I fired again, and he slumped forward against the deflating bag and went still.

Dammit. So much for him being smart.

More pops came from outside, muffled by the deafening sounds that had already shocked my eardrums. But I knew automatic gunfire when I heard it. Had to be the guard from the gatehouse.

Bullets smacked into the SUV. More glass shattered.

I had a tactical knife in the pocket of my vest. I grabbed for it to cut the seatbelt and then the remaining airbag, shoving the puffy fabric out of the way. Pushed the door open and dove out onto the blacktop.

Getting low to the ground, I spotted the guard’s boots on the far side of the SUV. He was shooting as he approached. I got into a crouch and rounded the bumper.

Took aim for a head shot. Fired. The guard and his carbine went down.

Another guard in a black tactical uniform ran into view. He ducked behind the cover of the gatehouse. I dashed across the open space. When the guard peeked out again, I fired twice. Blood spattered, but I’d only grazed him. He reached his carbine out and fired in my direction. The bullets smacked into the gatehouse, shattering the tempered glass of the windows. He shouted something too, though I couldn’t begin to make out those sounds. My hearing wasn’t so great at the moment.

I crouched on the other side of the gatehouse. The first guard, the one I had successfully killed, was lying a couple of feet away. I leaned out to yank his M4 carbine away from him, leaning back just as another barrage of automatic fire slammed into the concrete wall .

Distantly, I heard something that could’ve been a siren. Was it close? Far? I had no clue.

No sign of Donovan Ryker. No other guards came running either. It was just me and the guy I’d grazed. He was probably very pissed off about that.

I picked up a pebble from the ground, weighing it in my hand. Then I threw it as hard as I could.

It smacked into the chain-link fence. A barrage of gunfire followed.

I stood and stepped around the back side of the gatehouse. The guard was turned away from me, eyes on my distraction. One of the cheapest tricks in the books, but still a good one. Who needed fancy tech when old school still worked so well?

The next bullet from my handgun caught him in the back of the neck just as he was trying to turn.

I bent over him to take the magazine from his gun, quickly searching him for anything else of use. Keycard. Car keys. Those went in my pockets.

I went into the gatehouse. A screen flashed with the message, Intrusion Alert . I didn’t know what impact that had, exactly, but I had to assume that any and all guards around the facility knew something was up.

I glanced around for cameras. There was one aimed at the facility entrance, but the second guard’s wild gunfire had taken it out. Convenient. Thanks.

Time to find Brynn. Manning had said she’d be inside Building B at the center of the property. If so, I would go through those guards too. Anyone and everyone.

A neat row of golf carts was parked beyond the gatehouse. The most obvious strategy was to grab one of those carts and head straight up the central path. It was either that, or melt into the shadows of the solar fields in an attempt to be stealthy .

But I had left stealth behind a few minutes ago. Right around the time Manning had driven us into that concrete post in a desperate attempt to get my weapon. Nah, I was done with the undercover thing.

It was time to march up to their door and kick it right the fuck in.

Finding a cabinet of keys in the gatehouse, I grabbed one labeled #3 . The cart in space three revved to life. Except for the siren, the property was eerily lifeless as I drove up the central path. Building A looked like a front office, with a sign marked Dynamic Solar . It was deserted. I kept a carbine aimed forward, my other hand on the steering wheel, waiting for the next attack. Yet it still didn’t come.

Building B loomed in front of me. No sign of any guards out front.

But a Stillwater mercenary suddenly reared out of the shadows. Bullets pinged on the cart. I swerved to the side and returned fire. Once I’d reached the solar panels, I leaped out of the cart and disappeared in the shadows. Watching.

Movement at nine o’clock. The guard was searching for me.

I pressed the trigger gently. A barrage of gunfire burst from my weapon. The guard grunted and collapsed.

I found him on the ground bleeding from a wound to his thigh. Looked like he’d taken a hit to the artery, which meant he wouldn’t last long. But he wasn’t down for the count yet. He raised his gun to fire at me again, and I grabbed ahold of it, slamming it into his face. I threw his gun into the shadows beneath the solar panels and stomped on his wrist when he went for his knife.

The man cursed me as I dragged him to the entrance to Building B. I rummaged in his pockets for his keycard. Swiped it, then lifted his hand to use his fingerprints on the biometric scanner .

I let the guard fall to the ground. He didn’t move again.

The lock clicked open. I kicked the door wide, raising my carbine again in case someone was waiting to take me out. I had just been standing in full view of the camera by the entrance. But aside from the ever-present sirens and flashing emergency lights, it was quiet inside.

The interior of Building B was cinderblock and concrete. On the right, a doorway led into what looked like a break room. On the left was an elevator. The button didn’t respond when I pushed it. I tried waving a keycard, and the elevator came to life. The doors glided open.

I stepped in and hit the down button. It started to descend. When the doors slid open, I pressed myself against the wall, gun ready. Waiting to see who might be here to greet me.

I heard the slick sound of a gun cocking.

“I have Westwick. Drop your weapons and come out with your hands up, or his brains will be splattered against the cinderblock.”

I blinked. “B? Is that you?”

The siren kept up its shrill racket, yet still, I could hear her gasp. I stepped out of the elevator, gun hanging at my side. Brynn stood there with an M4 rifle of her own.

“B,” I said again, choking on emotion. Shock and relief and pure joy to have my sights on her. Exactly where she belonged. With me . “Hey, honey.”

I held out my arm, and Brynn almost collapsed against me. I held her tight and pressed my forehead against hers.

“I am so glad to see you,” she said. “Ryker said they killed you. I didn’t want to believe it, but… I could’ve used your help a few hours ago, but better late than never.”

I sputtered a laugh and pressed a quick, firm kiss to her temple. There was way too much happening inside me. A million things I wanted to say to her. All that had to wait .

Quickly, I took stock of the cart behind her with a man draped across it. It took a moment for me to register him as Garon Westwick. Duct tape covered his mouth and his blond hair was a mess.

“Figured I would swoop in after you’d already done all the work.” I nodded at Westwick, who was trying to yell around his gag. “You’ve been busy.”

“I have. And I would love to get the hell out of here.”

“Me too. Who’s your new friend?” I pointed at the skinny guy who was leaning against the wall like he wanted to disappear into it.

“That’s Josiah.” Brynn paused, considering something. “I know what Stillwater is hiding down here. They’ve got a bunch of servers to run a dark web marketplace for members. Josiah is the tech guy. He’s been held prisoner here for a few months. He’s coming with us.”

“Computers,” I said, and she nodded, eyes full of meaning. The virus , I thought.

“I have a lot more to tell you, but that’ll have to wait.” She tilted her head in Westwick’s direction. The man was listening to everything we said.

She and I both had a lot to share, but yeah. Later. I kissed her one more time on the forehead. Just couldn’t resist. She was amazing.

“Do you know how to turn off the siren, Josiah?” I asked. “It’s getting on my nerves.”

He shook his head. “It’s controlled at the gatehouse.”

“Ah. Then it’s probably my fault.”

Brynn smirked. “I should’ve guessed.” She adjusted the strap of her gun. “We were just packing up, and we were going to head for the fire exit. Unless you think the elevator is safe. I wasn’t sure what to expect up there.”

“Seemed deserted. When I first arrived at the gate, I ran into resistance. Three guards. They are no longer resisting. Nobody else has popped out of the woodwork.”

“Manning and O’Hanlon?”

“Dead.”

“Good. I haven’t seen Ryker in over an hour. He’s my primary concern. He was supposed to check on Westwick’s ride out of here for the morning.”

“Helicopter?” I wondered aloud. I’d seen Stillwater send a chopper full of mercenaries to evacuate a facility before.

“Possible.”

Westwick probably knew the answer, but we’d be fools to trust anything he told us right now. “I vote we take the elevator,” I said. “It’ll be faster. Westwick’s ride could arrive early if they got notice of the alarm going off. We need to be out of here before then. There’s two of us with guns to take care of any remaining resistance. Plus Josiah.” For whatever that guy was worth.

“And we have our hostage,” she added darkly.

Damn. If I wasn’t already crazy for this woman, that look in her eyes would’ve done it for me.

“Hell yeah,” I said. “I’ll be right beside you.”

Josiah wheeled the cart inside the elevator. Westwick had stopped grunting and struggling. Wise of him. If I were in his place, I would save my strength and strategize how to get myself out of this. Of course, my job was to guarantee that didn’t happen. Soon, Westwick would learn he was all out of luck and hope. Stillwater was about to come to an ugly, inglorious end.

Then I remembered the syringe in my vest pocket. I pulled it out and sank the needle into Westwick’s arm. His eyes bulged in panic, and I smiled down at him for several satisfying seconds until he lost consciousness. “He’ll sleep for a few hours,” I told Brynn.

“Good. ”

I did a quick inventory of our weapons and ammo. Brynn didn’t have any shoes, which was concerning. “Your clothes are different,” I murmured in her ear.

Her eyes darted away. She pushed the button to start the elevator. “Don’t worry about it. I can explain later.”

Dread hit my gut. It took a lot of effort not to check her over for injuries. She seemed unhurt. For now, the best thing I could do for her was to get her someplace safe.

The elevator ride upstairs was agonizingly slow. I took those moments to look down at Garon Westwick. The powerful executive, bound and drugged and being wheeled around like luggage. And it was just the beginning of the humiliation and pain he had coming to him. If he had touched Brynn…

But that wasn’t a road I could allow my mind to go down. Not right now. Not if I wanted to keep myself focused on our current task.

On the ground floor, the doors slid open. The red emergency lights continue to flash.

Brynn stepped out first, gun raised. She cleared the space, checked the view from the window, and led the way outside. Josiah pushed the cart, and then I brought up the rear.

Outside, the golf cart remained where I had left it. Brynn covered us while Josiah and I wheeled our prisoner over and dumped him in the passenger seat.

“You can drive. Carefully ,” I warned. I tossed Josiah the keys, and he started the small engine. Brynn and I crouched in the cargo area at the back so we could keep our guns aimed and ready.

Once we neared the gatehouse, I told Josiah to pull the cart into the parking lot where the guards kept their personal vehicles. I had a set of keys I had taken from the second guard I had killed. The keys matched up with a Ford F150 with a crew cab and open truck bed. We dumped Westwick on the floor of the backseat, tossing a blanket over our prisoner to keep him hidden.

The plan had gotten all kinds of fucked at the resort, but here we were with Westwick, ready to get ourselves out of Arizona. Once we made contact with the Protectors, we could sort out the rest of this mess. As for Ryker, it was looking like he’d left the facility to arrange Westwick’s “ride.” All the more reason for us to get out before he returned with backup.

“B, you up for driving?” I held out the keys, and Brynn took them.

“You realize we haven’t slept in about forty hours?” she asked.

“Well, I figured we would stop at a convenience store or something on the way. Grab an energy drink.”

I loved seeing that smile break over her face. Like the sun was rising ahead of schedule.

“Where should I sit?” Josiah asked. He didn’t seem thrilled at the idea of riding in the back with Westwick.

“If you’re good, you can sit shotgun later.” I would take the next shift driving, and that would give Brynn a chance to take a nap in the back. Assuming we switched vehicles for something with a trunk to stuff Westwick inside. That was a priority, since most people would frown on us carrying a man tied up and gagged on the floor of our backseat.

I put a hand on Josiah’s shoulder before he got in. “But first, do you know how to open the exit?” The chain-link gate was still closed, and Manning’s SUV blocked the entrance.

Josiah sighed. “Yeah, I can do that.” He jogged over to the gatehouse.

Brynn stood by the driver’s side door. I touched her cheek. Just marveling for another few seconds at how beautiful and strong she was. “We’re gonna talk later,” I said. “You can tell me anything. ”

Tension rippled over her features, and she held onto my shirt by the collar. “Cole…”

“I’m going to take care of you.”

Her dark eyes lifted. Too much uncertainty and sorrow. Yet she was willing to show it to me, when otherwise she’d been every bit the badass since I’d walked out of that elevator.

“Hey, Cameron?” Josiah called out. “It’s not working. Something is stuck.”

“On my way,” I called out. I brushed my thumb over Brynn’s cheek. “I’ll be right back. Pull the truck around? We’ll jump in once we’ve got the gate open.”

Nodding, she got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

I crossed the blacktop. Josiah was inside the gatehouse, hand on the guards’ touchscreen. But he stood stiffly. Not pushing buttons. Not even looking at me.

Then I realized he’d called me Cameron. How did he know that name? Had Brynn called me that? Or…

I slowed my approach, lifting the carbine in my arms. At the same moment, Josiah’s head turned, panic in his eyes.

Dammit, no .

I pivoted and ran in a crouch as a shot rang out.

“Clay!” Ryker shouted. “Give me Westwick, or none of you leaves here alive!”

I checked the magazine on my rifle, switching it out for another. “Not happening.”

Another shot, and Ryker shoved Josiah out of the gatehouse. The IT guy sprawled on the blacktop, his head just visible from where I was crouched. Dead .

An engine revved. I glanced over to see Brynn driving the truck. A gun muzzle appeared through her open window. Shots slammed into the gatehouse, and glass rained onto the ground. Shit, she was trying to save me. This woman had a bad habit of doing that.

I used her cover fire to charge and collided with Ryker as he fled from the gatehouse. He was bent over at the waist, so I grabbed onto his back and brought up my right knee, smashing it into his face. His nose crunched. His arms closed around my waist, and we both went down. It was close combat now, a flurry of brutal punches and kicks, not enough space between for either of us to aim our bulky guns. Ryker tried to slam his boot heel against the socket of my prosthesis. Clenching my jaw hard, I closed my hands around his throat. Squeezed.

He managed to get hold of his tactical knife. The blade winked as he struggled to drive it into me, but I kept his arm pinned with my elbow and kept squeezing, squeezing. His other fist pummeled my side viciously, but I didn’t let up.

This was for Luciana and her daughter. For Petra, the innocent nanny Westwick and Ryker had terrorized. For everyone Ryker had hurt.

For Brynn.

I bellowed out my fury. Something gave way beneath my hands. Ryker stopped fighting me.

Brynn was shouting my name. I pushed myself up, grabbed my gun, and limped to the open window of the truck. “The gate,” I croaked. “We need to get it open.”

Any controls inside the gatehouse were busted and covered in broken glass. But there had to be some kind of manual release. Brynn got out of the truck, leaving it idling as we went to the fence together. We managed to find the release and dragged the gate open.

Then we put Stillwater’s solar plant in our rearview.