Heroes In Uniform (64 page)

Rain pelted him as he hurried across the grass, the cold wind whipping around him and biting through his jacket. He raced for the thick stand of trees at the far end of the expansive lawn. If a sniper was hidden in there he’d be dead before he reached the trees, but it was the only cover around and he couldn’t afford to stay exposed like this.

He paused and pressed up against a thick tree trunk to get his bearings. The branches swayed and trembled in the wind, dripping more rain onto him. Then he smelled it. A faint whiff of iron over the underlying damp earth.

Blood.

Internal radar pinging like crazy, he eased his way around the tree trunk to look farther into the thicket. The tension is his gut remained but that prickling sensation at his nape eased as he stepped deeper into the trees. If anyone had him in their sights right now, he couldn’t tell. Walking deeper into the dense foliage, he moved carefully through the tangle of underbrush.

The iron smell grew stronger. Most people wouldn’t even have noticed it but he’d spent his entire adult life in combat zones and war-torn countries and he’d recognize that scent anywhere. Pausing behind another thick tree trunk, he reached his left hand down to key the radio. Sure enough, a corresponding squawk sounded off in the distance to his right, where the smell was coming from.

When he covered the remaining distance and peered through the underbrush, he spotted it. An arm lying outstretched on the ground, the hand palm up, the fallen radio lying mere inches from the motionless fingertips. Heart sinking, Wade scanned once more for threats and seeing none, stepped in to see who it was.

Parker. The thirty-one year old former Army lieutenant assigned to the security team. He lay face-down in the mud with his head turned to the side, the whole left side of it blown out. His eyes were half open, staring sightlessly at the forest floor. The blood hadn’t coagulated yet; there was no bruising around the wound and rigidity hadn’t set in yet. Which meant he’d likely been dead for less than an hour.

Clenching his jaw, Wade looked around for any evidence of who had shot him. He found two sets of footprints leading toward the spot where Parker lay. They began where the far side of the copse met a short grassy area that sloped down toward the ditch separating the property from the road. At the edge of the trees the footprints veered right, toward the driveway. He knew the security team’s schedule, but not always the details about who was posted where. Parker and whoever had been with him must have been dropped off by vehicle by some of the others, and headed to their observations posts on foot from there. So where the hell were the others? No one had answered his radio calls and they hadn’t alerted him of a channel or frequency change. And where was whoever was responsible for that other set of prints?

Either dead, or on the run after he’d murdered his fellow security agent in cold-blood.

Heart thudding, Wade cursed and hurried back through the trees, careful not to disturb the murder scene so the forensics guys could put the pieces together when they arrived. Whipping out his cell phone, he swiped his thumb across the screen and entered his security code. He paused just inside the tree line and brought the phone to his ear to report everything when he caught a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. He jerked the phone away from his ear and whirled around to see a shadowy figure approaching the east side of the house.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

Cursing, he shoved the phone away and burst from the trees, weapon aimed dead center mass on the fucker. But now he had to get close enough to use it.

He tore over the open ground, not caring about snipers or other threats, focused solely on stopping the intruder before he could get to the house and harm Erin. His boots dug into the soaked grass with every step, the dull thuds matching the frantic pounding of his heart. “Freeze!” he roared when he was within earshot.

The figure—a man wearing a black hoodie, he could see now—whipped around and froze when he saw Wade coming at him.

“Hands in the air, now!”

The man hesitated for a second, then slowly raised both hands in a non-threatening gesture. Wade wasn’t placated. “Get on the ground,” he snarled, slowing to circle the man cautiously.

Through the driving rain he could make out the tall, muscular build, the short dark hair as the man reluctantly got to his knees. Not one of the security guys. “Right down,” Wade growled, watching the bastard’s hands.

“For fuck sake, Sandberg, take it easy, it’s just me,” the man called back.

Surprise jolted through him. He stared in astonishment. “Schafer?”

“Yeah. Put that damn thing away, will ya?”

No way in hell.
What the fuck was he doing here? Wade stalked forward and stopped within killing range, the weapon’s aim never wavering. “How did you find us?”

Rather than looking cowed or helpless lying stretched out face-first on the soaking wet grass, Schafer turned his head and sent Wade a withering glare. “If you’d answer your fucking phone, you’d know why and you’d have been expecting me.”

Wade darted a quick glance around to ensure they were alone before pinning Schafer with his stare. “Who’s with you?”

“No one,” Schafer gritted out between clenched teeth.

“How did you get here?”

“Drove out.”

Wade frowned and risked a quick glance around. The timing was way too damn suspicious. Had he killed Parker? Wade didn’t want to believe it. “You alone?”

“Yeah. Now let me up.”

“Don’t you fucking move,” Wade warned, taking a menacing step forward.

Schafer let out a disgusted sigh. “The director released me this morning and said he’d tell you himself.”

“So?”

“And so, you should realize that since I’ve been cleared of any wrong doing in this mess, I’m not a threat to you.”

“Or you could have come here to settle the score personally,” Wade said, thinking about Parker’s body lying in those trees behind him. “Now how the fuck did you find us?” The place was way out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but farms and horse pastures for miles in every direction. No way he’d been able to follow them, and Wade couldn’t see anyone at Langley just handing Schafer the address, verified innocence or not.

“I overheard the address from someone. As soon as they released me I left headquarters and took a cab straight to a rental place, then drove out.”

Rage simmered in Wade’s blood. There was no way the security team would have let anyone get near here without stopping them or at least alerting him, which meant they were all either dead or dirty. His jaw tensed. If this fucker had killed Parker in the hopes of catching Wade and Erin off guard, he’d—

He forced himself to stop and take a slow, even breath to combat the rush of adrenaline in his veins. “So why are you here?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“You could’ve left a message.”

“No, man, not for this, and you know I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of coming here in person if it wasn’t heart-attack-serious. Look, let me up, okay? I’ve got a piece in my waistband and a backup on my ankle, but I’m not gonna reach for either of them. I’ve gotta talk to you and the woman with you, A-fucking-SAP, and somewhere where no one else is gonna hear it. Feel me?”

Wade’s mind whirled as he walked around in an arc, keeping his body between Schafer and the house. If the bastard made a move to reach for one of his weapons, Wade would drop him without batting an eyelash. “Just say what you came to say.”

Schafer shot him a baleful glare, then gave in. “I came to warn you.”

That awful prickling sensation started up again at his nape. “Warn me about what?”

He shook his head once. “Not here, man. They might be listening.”

The driving rain would make that tough, even with a parabolic dish, and there were likely bugs inside that he hadn’t located. No, Schafer was going to have to come clean out here. “Fucking say it, asshole.”

Schafer’s jaw flexed. “I heard someone when I was at Langley, part of a conversation I wasn’t supposed to overhear. They said something about recent chatter regarding a possible attack on the safe house. That’s how I got the address.”

Wade stared at him, a chill skittering down his spine. If that part was true, then Bill and Robert both had to be aware of it. Which meant they either didn’t think it was credible enough to warrant alerting Wade, or Schafer was full of bullshit. “What?” he rasped, his pulse echoing in his ears.

Schafer nodded. “I overheard some guy talking on the phone.”

“Who and where?” If someone was going to have a potentially treasonous conversation like that, they wouldn’t do it at CIA headquarters. Schafer having “overheard” it at all was either a huge damn coincidence, or a bald-ass lie intending to make Wade let his guard down around him. Not happening. Wade wasn’t willing to bet his and Erin’s lives on either of those things.

“Dunno, I never saw his face. I don’t trust any of those fuckers and wanted to come tell you face to face. That’s why I came straight out here. I think you both need to get out of here.”

Wade didn’t know what to believe, but he couldn’t stand out here in plain view and keep interrogating Schafer. “Get up on your knees. Put your hands on the back of your head.”

Schafer did as he was told, pushing up onto his knees as he held his hands out of reach of his weapons, palms out. Wade rushed forward, keeping his own weapon trained on the man’s face. “Don’t you fucking move,” he warned as he stopped in front of him.

“I’m not gonna move,” Schafer snapped, but stayed very still as Wade pulled the Glock from his waistband and tucked it into his own, then reached for Schafer’s right ankle and took the backup.

“You carrying anything else?” Wade asked as he frisked him with one hand, watching for the smallest twitch of movement from the other man.

“No.” He waited until Wade gave a satisfied grunt and stepped back. “Can I get up now?”

Wade gave a grudging nod. “Yeah.” He motioned ahead of him with the barrel of his pistol. “Get in front of me and head toward the house.” He was soaked to the skin and already shivering. Whatever the fuck was going on, he needed to call Robert and report everything, and get Erin the hell out of here.

Schafer got to his feet and started toward the house. Wade’s heart hammered, his instincts screaming at him to go,
go
. He would already be on the phone to Robert had he not been unwilling to temporarily lose the use of one hand. If Schafer tried anything, he wanted to be ready. “What did they say about the attack?” he pressed, risking a glance on either side to make sure no one else was coming at him. Nothing moved but the tree branches and the quiet country road at the end of the driveway remained deserted. It was dawn now but the dark, forbidding sky and the storm made it feel like it was much earlier.

“I heard him say ‘Sandberg’, then something about a team being ready to attack the safe house, and the address. Seemed fucked-up, so here I am.”

Yeah, it did, and Wade wasn’t ready to just accept Schafer’s version of the story. He grunted, running through the three most probable explanations. Either Schafer was lying and had killed Parker himself; he hadn’t killed Parker but was still part of this whole fucking nightmare; or he was telling the truth.

Wade was counting on it being the third. But he wasn’t letting his guard down for an instant until he spoke to Robert and moved Erin to safety. “Move it,” he snarled, the sense of urgency making him feel like his skin was suddenly too tight, stretched thin over his muscle and bone.

Schafer broke into a loping run. Wade stayed behind him, close enough to take him to the ground if need be. The house was still dark, so the power wasn’t back on yet. He didn’t know where Erin was but he knew she was up and waiting and he was glad because they were getting the fuck away from here right now.

Shafer reached the edge of the grass, his feet making crunching sounds on the gravel drive as they headed toward the side entrance onto the porch. He was less than ten steps away from the bottom stair when a bullet buried itself into the wooden siding of the house with a loud
thunk
, shards of wood exploding from the entry hole.

Sniper
.

Both of them instinctively ducked and whirled, then hit the ground. The only consolation was that Schafer appeared as stunned by the shot as him. Either the shooter had just gotten into position, or they’d been waiting for him and Schafer to reach the house.

Lying on his belly on the wet gravel, heart slamming against his ribs, Wade lifted his head a fraction to stare up at the side door. He’d never make it. The sniper would take him out with one well-placed shot the moment he tried any of the doors or windows. Maybe even the moment he moved.

Erin.

She had a radio but the channel might be compromised and someone could be listening. He opened his mouth to yell a warning instead, praying it wouldn’t come too late.

Danger Close: Chapter Sixteen

Up in her room, Erin wrenched open the top drawer of the dresser, grabbed what was inside and shoved it all into the open duffel she’d set on the foot of her bed. A good fifteen minutes had passed since Wade had issued that gruff command to shoot anyone who entered, then left the house and she hadn’t heard anything from him since. Not exactly how she’d imagined waking up this morning. The perimeter around the property wasn’t
that
big, so he should have been able to check it by now. She pushed her worry aside and finished packing in case he came back with bad news and the order to leave.

Hurrying to the bathroom, she was shoving all her toiletries into her kit when she heard something, and stilled. The dim light coming through the window behind her was enough to allow her to see her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her face looked pale, her features pinched as she stilled and listened. Then it came again. The sound of distant male voices, too far away for her to hear what was being said, but it had sounded like shouting. Wade and one of the security team? Her heart thudded against her breastbone as the voices continued, her hand straying down to her hip where the radio rested in her pocket.