Charlie poured coffee into three travel mugs,
making each one the way the men liked it; Roman's black, Butch's
cream and two sugars, his, just cream. He pushed the lever on the
toaster and removed butter and jam from the fridge.
Butch entered the house, taking the wrapped
packages outside.
"I'd have helped ya, darlin'." Charlie
stepped into the living room.
"I got it." Butch hoisted the brown bag,
filled with Christmas gifts and left the house.
Charlie felt the icy air coming into the
house and went to close the door. He stood by, seeing Butch fill
the bed of his pickup truck, the one with the canopy, and close the
canopy door, rubbing his hands together and returning. Behind Butch
was the group of men, cleaning the stalls. The horses were already
in the paddock.
Butch walked by Charlie on his way in. "I'm
jus' gonna shower quick."
"All right. We're not headed out early no
more. Jus' do what ya gotta do." Charlie closed the door and heard
the bread pop in the toaster. He returned to the kitchen, buttering
the four slices, dropping in four more.
Once Charlie had a stack of buttered toast on
the table he put on his coat, hat, and boots to head out and talk
to the hired hands about helping out while they were gone.
Charlie looked into the house before he
closed the door and tried to contain his worry.
If that thing,
that 'alpha' attacks our horses while we're gone…
A pang of pain hit him with his doubts. He
inhaled, rubbed his stomach to calm down and met with the men
cleaning the stable.
~
Roman finished putting a few of his last
minute toiletries into his shaving kit and looked for Charlie. He
placed the kit near the door with his coat, and called out,
"Charlie?" as he entered the kitchen. He spotted the toast and the
three travel mugs. He opened each and took the one without the
cream.
Standing at the back door, looking out of the
window, Roman ate a slice of the toast and thought about the drive
to Heber. They were taking Charlie's truck, but he didn't know if
it was smart for him to drive, though…Roman wanted to. Usually
did.
Roman did think of himself as the dominant
male out of the three of them. The one with the size, the strength,
and the education…not to mention, ATF training of the highest
level.
He was proud. He admitted that.
A noise behind him didn't even make him turn
around. He could hear, smell, and sense, everyone and everything.
Butch's shampoo and aftershave filled Roman's nostrils.
"I'm good to go, Roman."
"Okay." Roman finished the slice of bread and
spun around to take another, seeing Butch eating his, sipping from
the mug.
"You…you shaved," Butch said while chewing.
"I mean, shaved clean."
"Mm." Roman nodded, then folded another slice
of toast in half and bit it. "I don't need to look any more like a
wolf than I already do."
Butch chuckled. "I like it. You look, well,
younger."
"Yeah?" Roman swallowed the toast down with
his coffee.
"Yeah."
"You like everything I do."
"That a crime?"
"Nope." Roman brushed off the crumbs from his
black crew neck top and continued to drink his coffee.
"About last night." Butch crossed the room,
as if he were getting more personal, sensual.
The front door opened.
Butch backed up quickly, acting as if they
were doing something wrong.
"Okay," Charlie said, entering the room. "I
told the boys about the incident with the goat. Ya know, kind of
glossed over the disposal part." Charlie washed his hands at the
sink, still wearing his hat and coat. He picked up the remaining
mug and sipped it. "They'll keep an eye out. I told them to make
sure the lock is on the barn when they leave…" He picked up a slice
of toast and bit nearly half of the piece and chewed. "Who's
drivin'? I can."
Butch refilled his coffee mug. "I don't care
who does, but if ya turn into a wolf or crow on the road, I get to
punch the shit out of you."
Roman laughed and nudged the last few slices
of bread at Charlie. "Eat the rest."
"We can stop for some grub on the way."
Charlie took another slice of toast.
"Can't wait for Connie's chow." Butch tucked
his shirt into his jeans. "No offense, Charlie, but she's heads an'
tails better than you."
"I use her recipes." Charlie finished the
toast and stuck the plate into the dishwasher.
"Yeah, well…" Butch laughed.
"You drive, Butch." Roman shut off the
coffeemaker, dumping the grounds. He held up the pot. "Refills
before I dump it?"
Both men opened the caps of the travel mugs
for him.
Roman poured the remainder of the coffee and
said, "Okay. Last pit stop and we head out." He rinsed the
carafe.
Both Charlie and Butch left the kitchen.
Roman checked the lock on the back door,
shaking the handle. He looked at his phone, which had a full charge
and then pocketed it. Knowing all the windows were secure since it
was winter, Roman picked up the travel mug and brought it to the
living room with his shaving kit, then did a check of the house
before he relieved himself for the drive.
Charlie exited their master bathroom and
stopped to watch Roman, who was standing near their nightstand,
making sure he had bullets in the magazine inside his gun, and two
extra clips.
"What's the point?" Charlie asked, gesturing
to the gun.
"Regulation." Roman buckled the leather
shoulder holster on, and put the two full magazines into his jacket
pocket.
"My ass…" Charlie was about to shut off the
bathroom light, but Roman walked by, entering it and standing at
the toilet.
Muttering as he left the room, Charlie said,
"Ya can't shoot what ain't there, Roman…"
"Shut up, Mosby."
~
After he retrieved his coffee mug, Charlie
met up with Butch in the living room. Butch appeared nervous,
fidgeting, and had the truck keys in his hand. "Them horses better
be all right," Butch said.
"What more can we do, Butch? You are welcome
to stay." Charlie noticed Butch's attention dart behind him.
"You ready?" Roman asked, also holding his
mug.
"I suppose." Charlie opened the front door,
nodding for Butch to leave first. He did, not looking back.
Butch said, "Roman, I put your shaving kit
into your bag for ya."
"Thanks, Butch."
Charlie had a last look around. "Set the
house alarm."
Roman put his jacket on, an ATF ball cap on
his head, and patted his pockets with his free hand while he held
his travel mug, looking frustrated. He obviously could not find his
keys.
Charlie said, "Butch has the truck keys."
"Okay. Fine. You set the alarm." Roman left
the house, and Charlie gave a last look inside, shut off the light
and armed the house alarm. He double-locked the door and noticed
Butch sitting behind the wheel of the pickup and Roman beside him
in the front seat. Charlie was too tired to debate the idea of
riding in the back, so he walked over to the corral one last time
and tried to say goodbye to his horse. Spirit was not interested,
giving him a quick look and eating the hay that had been scattered
for the small group.
"Fine. Ignore me." Charlie walked to the
truck and got in the back seat, putting the mug into a cup
holder.
One of the day workers waved, "Have a safe
trip. Don't worry about a thing!"
Roman lowered the window. "You got all our
phone numbers? In case?"
Charlie said, "Yeah, they do, but I told them
to call the sheriff. What good will callin' us do?"
"I want to know if anything goes on while
we're gone," Roman replied.
Butch, putting the truck in gear said, "Me
too."
They waved at the group of men as Butch drove
out of their driveway.
Charlie sank low in the back seat and stared
out of the window. It was going to be a long drive.
~
An hour into their trip Roman's ringtone
sounded. He removed his phone from his pocket and realized it was
Phil, asking to video chat. Roman reluctantly accepted.
"Roman," Phil said, appearing to be sitting
in his office in Utah.
"What's up, Phil?" Roman tried to keep his
own image filling the screen so Phil didn't know he was already on
his way.
"Got a lead…thought you should know. You at
your computer?"
"Hi, Phil!" Butch said as he drove.
Roman rubbed his face and stared at Phil's
image as it gazed at him from the phone.
"Was that Butch?"
"Yes." Roman tried to tilt away from Butch,
but when he did, he could see the truck's passenger's window behind
him appear in the small screen.
"Roman? Are you on your way to the ranch
now?"
Butch turned to look at Roman in
confusion.
Charlie said, "Tell him, ya big dork."
"Is it a secret?" Butch asked, changing lanes
on the interstate.
"What's the lead?" Roman asked tiredly.
"I was in touch with Sheriff Kenmore…and
there's been some recent activity near the reservoir."
Charlie unfastened his seatbelt to sit closer
to the front seat to hear, and Butch shut off the radio.
"What kind of activity?" Roman already
knew.
"Couple of deer and a rancher's sheep were
sacrificed. Sheriff Kenmore was really hesitant to talk about it,
saying it would panic the locals."
Charlie blew out a breath in frustration.
"Yup, that's Dale for ya."
Roman knew he was referring to Dale Kenmore,
the county sheriff who was close to Vernon and their family. "How
recent?"
"Past week."
"Fuck!" Butch said, shifting on the truck's
bench seat.
"Just concentrate on the damn road." Roman
looked back at the telephone. "You or the sheriff know who did
it?"
"Not yet. Kenmore's got all his resources on
it, but he's such a small department."
"I hope you offered your help." Roman met
Butch's worried expression.
"Roman, we're in the ATF…Does that have
anything to do with cults and animal sacrifices?"
"Fuck you, Phil!" Butch said, and then
appeared furious as he passed a tractor trailer going slow on
I80.
Phil gave Roman an annoyed glare, obviously
hearing Butch. "Alcohol, tobacco, and firearms, Butch," Phil
said.
"Whatever." Roman ran his hand over his
shaven jaw, feeling odd without the designer stubble.
"Look, you know Nick wants me involved
because it's you, Roman. Otherwise—"
"He wouldn't give a shit," Roman completed
his sentence.
"Yeah. Well…" Phil looked down, probably at
paperwork. "So, Burk? You're on your way today? Not Thursday?"
"Things started to escalate. I thought it
would be best if we got to that area sooner rather than later."
"Escalate? How?"
"Can I talk to you in person? We'll be in
Heber in about five hours." Roman looked at the clock on the
dashboard.
"Call me when you get to Vernon's place."
"Okay. Meanwhile, get all those files from
Sheriff Kenmore. I want to read all of them."
"I'll email them."
"No, hard copies. The wireless and computer
connection at the ranch sucks."
"You're a real pain in the ass, Roman. You
never change."
"Fuck you. Just help me out, Agent Dean."
"Fine, Agent Burk. Fine."
The picture vanished and Roman put the phone
into his pocket.
"I can't believe he doesn't want this to
end." Butch scratched his head under his cowboy hat and then
adjusted the brim.
"He's a selfish prick." Roman stared out of
the window.
Charlie said, "That ain't fair, Roman. He was
a big help to us last time."
"Your memory is fading, Mosby." Roman rubbed
his chin. "He helped me because he was ordered to, not out of the
goodness of his heart." Roman lowered the visor and met his eyes in
the mirror, seeing Charlie in the back seat when he did. "If it's
not something big, where he can go in like an army and take out an
ammo dump, he's not interested." Roman flipped the visor back up,
not used to seeing himself clean shaven.
"That's what got you in hot water to begin
with, Roman," Charlie, said, sounding as if he were musing or
daydreaming.
Roman felt Butch glance at him quickly and
then Roman drifted off, thinking of that day…the day this all
began.
A small army consisting of FBI, ATF, Utah
Highway Patrol, and local Heber sheriff's officers stood in a
meeting place in a parking lot a quarter mile from their target
location.
Roman's group of officers was also SWAT
trained and part of the Violent Criminal Enterprise apprehension
team. They dealt with the worst offenders, explosive devices, and
heavy weapons violations.
His lead ATF agent and the lead FBI agent
were running the operation. Roman's heart was already pounding with
adrenaline; his helmet under his arm, his AK hanging from his
shoulder, armored up like a marine about to fight Afghan
terrorists. Roman loved this part of his job best. Intel was one
thing, but front line battle? Nothing better.
They had already studied the map and the
floor plan of the building they were entering, had a rough idea of
the types of weapons, including ingredients used to manufacture
bombs, and each unit was assigned an entry point or post.
"Any questions?" Nick asked the men.
No one said a thing.
"Let's go!"
Roman put his helmet on and climbed into the
back of an armored personnel carrier. As the truck moved, no one
spoke, each mentally preparing for the danger ahead.
He felt the vehicle halt, and they
immediately exited the back of the truck. In the darkness, Roman
and his men followed the lead agents who used hand signals.
His face shield down, his AK in his hands,
Roman and his crew began to surround a huge warehouse building
which looked from the outside, abandoned and dilapidated.