SB01 - The Guardian's Mission Read online

  “You sure you can handle it, Sinclair?” Rayne sent a mocking smile in his direction.

  “Has there ever been any doubt about it before?”

  “No, but I’m starting to think you’re getting soft, and getting soft is a precursor to dying.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Mary Sunshine.”

  “Hey, I’m just saying.” She paused, glanced at her watch. “Sampson will have men in place at the hospital by now. If you’re taking Martha, you’d better go. If Johnson really is waiting, he’ll take off if Martha doesn’t get there in a reasonable amount of time.”

  Tristan nodded, took Martha’s arm. “You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put this on under your jacket.” Rayne handed her a heavy black vest. “Of course, knowing the kind of guns and weapons Johnson and Buddy have been putting out on the street, there’s no guarantee that this will protect you.”

  Marti didn’t like the sound of that, but she tugged on her vest anyway, gritting her teeth as she tried to pull the vest over her aching shoulder.

  “Here—” Tristan leaned close “—let me help.” His breath whispered against her hair as he eased the vest over her bad shoulder, his fingers brushing against her neck. She shivered.

  “Do you think Johnson is waiting?”

  “I think there’s a good chance.”

  “Then let’s go find him.”

  Us. The two of them together.

  Despite her fear and worry, Martha couldn’t help thinking that she liked the sound of that.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Tristan didn’t like the situation. He didn’t like it at all. It had been one thing to expose Martha to danger when she’d walked into his raid Friday afternoon. He’d had no choice then. Now, he did, and using her as bait to bring Gordon Johnson in was not a choice he would ever have made.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t his decision, and what he liked or didn’t like didn’t figure into the equation. At least not as far as his boss, Daniel Sampson, was concerned. Tristan had argued with him for the fifteen minutes it had taken to drive to the safe house, but Sampson had remained unmoved. Risking one life to save hundreds, maybe even thousands, made sense. Even without Buddy, Johnson was capable of continuing to trade in illegal weapons. He had the connections, the know-how. He needed to be off the streets. Now. Not weeks or months from now.

  As far as Sampson was concerned, the worst-case scenario was that Johnson would ambush Martha and kill her before they could stop him. They’d be out a witness, but there was enough manpower at the hospital to ensure Johnson’s capture. Best-case scenario, one of the officers patrolling the hospital would spot Johnson before that happened. Either way, a gunrunner would be behind bars. In Sampson’s mind it was a win-win situation. And, Tristan had to cut the guy some slack, he really did believe they’d be able to keep Martha from being hurt again.

  Tristan thought they could, too, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea any better. Martha should be tucked away in the safe house under Rayne’s watchful eye, not riding into Johnson’s line of fire. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he wondered how many years he’d get if he kidnapped the state’s key witness, took her somewhere far away and kept her there until Johnson was caught.

  “Don’t worry, Tristan. Everything will be fine.” Martha spoke quietly, her words barely carrying over the rumbling chug of the engine.

  “Aren’t I supposed to be the one saying that?”

  “Yeah, but seeing as how you look like you’re going to tear the steering wheel to pieces, I thought I’d better say it first.”

  “You’re something else, Sunshine.”

  “Something good, or something bad?”

  “Definitely good.” He patted her knee, some of his anxiety easing. She was right. Everything would be okay. He’d played out these kinds of scenarios dozens of times in the past years, and they usually ran like clockwork. There was no reason to expect this to go any differently.

  “What’s going to happen when we get to the hospital?” Martha sounded much calmer than Tristan felt.

  “We’re going to get out of the car and walk into the building like we haven’t got a worry in the world.”

  “You don’t think Johnson will realize he’s being set up?”

  “I do. I think that’s the whole point. He’s trying to get you out in the open and he doesn’t care if we know it. His arrogance is going to be his undoing.”

  “So he’s going to be waiting for me to arrive? Just waiting there even though he knows half the state police are going to be at the hospital?” She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it, but, then, she was a nice person, a law-abiding citizen. Someone who probably felt guilty if she went a mile an hour above the posted speed limit.

  “He doesn’t think he’ll get caught, babe. That’s the thing with men like Gordon. They’ve gotten away with so much, they think they can get away with anything. In the end, that’s what always brings them down.”

  “Yeah, but how many innocent people do they bring down with them?”

  “Too many. That’s why my boss wants to make sure we get Johnson tonight.”

  “The good of the individual sacrificed for the good of the many?”

  “Something like that. Only don’t think of yourself as a sacrifice. You’re more like a carrot held out in front of a donkey’s nose. Motivation, but never meant to be eaten.”

  “A carrot. Make it a huge chocolate-chip cookie hanging from a treadmill, and I just might get into the imagery.”

  He cast a quick glance in her direction, surprised to see that she was smiling. A tense, tight smile, but it was there, her resilience carrying her through again. She’d pulled her hair into two low ponytails that fell in soft curls near her ears, and he wanted to weave his fingers through them, let the silky softness slide across his skin. Beautiful. Funny. Intelligent. She was a compelling combination. But there was something more. An indefinable something that tugged at Tristan’s heart every time he was near her. No matter how much he wanted to ignore it, wanted to pretend it was nothing, the truth was that Martha was becoming part of his life. A big part. Not because she was the key to finding and capturing Johnson, but because she offered something he’d never found with another woman—a sense of belonging. As if being with Martha made him more alive, more complete.

  If any of his brothers heard him say that, they’d laugh, but truth was truth. And the truth was, when he was with Martha, he felt like he was home. A strange idea, but one he hadn’t been able to shake no matter how hard he’d tried.

  “Sometimes I don’t understand why God doesn’t just reach down and fix things. You know, make life easier for us. He could. A whispered word and Johnson could be in custody without any trouble at all.”

  Martha’s words pulled Tristan from his thoughts, and he glanced her way again. She was still smiling, but there was a sadness to it that made him wish he could take the nearest exit to wherever and hope for the best.

  “It would make life easier, but I don’t know if it would make things better. A placid lake is nice, but an ocean squall is a lot more interesting.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’ve had about enough of squalls. I want placid for a while.”

  “Eventually, we’ll get there, babe. For now, we just have to hold on tight and trust that God will get us through in one piece.”

  “I know. I just…”

  “What?”

  “Like to have a little more control over things.”

  “I get that about you.”

  She laughed, a soft sound that made him want to turn and look at her again. See the laughter as it played across her face. “I guess it’s pretty obvious. I don’t mean to be difficult—”

  “Who said anything about difficult?”

  “I’m sure people have thought it.”

  “People like Brian?” The more he heard the guy’s name, the less he liked him. As a matter of fact, it had been all he could do not to tell the doctor to get lost and stay lost when he�
�d stopped in to check on Martha at the hospital.

  “People. The thing is, I’ve just learned how important it is to take care of myself and be responsible for my own decisions. Besides my father, I’ve never had anyone else to lean on. I’ve never needed anyone else.”

  “That’s admirable, Martha, but sometimes we do need someone to lean on. Sometimes we really can’t go it alone.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m starting to get that.” She was silent for a minute, then she shrugged, her arm brushing against his. “I’d still rather do it on my own. It’s easier that way.”

  “It’s always easier to guard our hearts than to open them up to pain, but without pain how would we ever know what joy was?” He spoke as he pulled into the hospital parking lot, his gaze scanning cars, probing shadows. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his body humming with adrenaline. Johnson was out there somewhere, and Tristan could almost guarantee he was close.

  “Do you think he’s here?” Martha whispered as if afraid Johnson would hear her.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry, we’re ready for him.” Dozens of officers and agents were stationed around the hospital, ready. Waiting. At least, that was the plan. In all the years he’d worked for the ATF, he’d never doubted that all the players would be in place when a mission began. He trusted his team. But this time, he didn’t want to leave things in anyone else’s hands.

  “Good. Let’s get going. As long as we’re here, I may as well spend some time with my father.” Martha didn’t seem at all worried to be stepping out of the car and into danger, and Tristan leaned in, staring into her eyes and trying to convey the seriousness of the situation.

  “For someone who may be about to walk into a gunfight, you seem awfully calm, Sunshine.”

  “Calm? I’m scared out of my mind.”

  “Good. That’ll keep you safe.”

  “It doesn’t feel good. Now, let’s get out of here before I chicken out and decide I’d rather not be shark bait.” She put her hand on the door handle, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could push it open.

  “Wait until I come around.”

  “Okay.”

  “And remember, whatever I tell you—”

  “Do it. No questions asked. No arguments.”

  “You know, Sunshine, I think you’re finally getting the hang of things.” He chucked her under the chin, meaning the gesture to be friendly, brotherly, encouraging. Somehow his hand lingered, his fingers caressing the soft skin beneath her jaw, circling around of their own accord until he was cupping her neck, pulling her in close.

  Chocolate. Sunshine. Sweet summer and cool calm fall.

  They enveloped him, tempted him.

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away as he did what he knew he shouldn’t and kissed her. It didn’t matter that a handful of police officers and federal agents were watching. It didn’t matter that Gordon Johnson might be lurking nearby. It didn’t even matter that Tristan had told himself he could never offer a woman the kind of stable life she deserved.

  What mattered was seizing the moment, knowing that the moment was all they might have.

  Finally, he backed away, catching his breath, wondering when he’d lost his mind to this woman. Or maybe it wasn’t his mind he’d lost at all. Maybe it was his heart.

  She blinked, put a hand to her lips. “I don’t think you should have done that.”

  “No? I guess we can debate that later. Right now, I need to get you inside that hospital in one piece. Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Then let’s do it.” He stepped out of the car, letting the cold air slap some sense into him as he pulled Martha’s door open and helped her out, shielding her body the best he could, knowing that might not be good enough. His nerves were alive, every sense heightened as he waited for the first bullet to fly. It never did. They stepped across the parking lot, moved toward the hospital doors. No one else approached. No patients. No visitors. At three-thirty in the morning, the hospital was eerily silent. Unnaturally silent. As if it were holding its breath and waiting.

  A hundred yards. Fifty. Martha’s feet padded against the ground, and Tristan was sure he could hear her teeth chattering, but she continued walking.

  Thirty yards. If Johnson planned to make a move, he’d do it soon or he wouldn’t do it at all.

  Okay, Lord, it’s in Your hands. Let us get this guy tonight, before he hurts anyone else. And keep Martha safe through it all. Preserve her life so that she may continue to serve You.

  The prayer raced through his mind as he led Martha closer to the doors, and he could almost picture it rising on the cold night air, flying to the heavens on wings of faith. God knew what would happen in the next few hours. He’d work His will out in the way He’d predestined before time began. Tristan believed that, had always believed it. That’s what kept him going even when evil seemed to prevail. It’s what motivated him, spurred him on. Darkness lived in the world, but would never overcome it. Christ, the great overcomer, had already won the war. People like Gordon Johnson just hadn’t realized it yet.

  Lord willing, tonight one more bad guy would realize the futility of fighting a battle that had already been lost.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Nothing happened.

  Martha expected it to. She almost hoped it would. If it meant getting Gordon Johnson off the streets and ending her nightmare, she was willing to walk through a hailstorm of bullets. Hopefully the vest she wore would keep her alive during the onslaught.

  But Johnson didn’t fire. Not even one shot, and before Martha could hyperventilate from anticipation and fear, she and Tristan were in the warm quiet of the hospital lobby.

  “That didn’t go well.” She spoke more to herself than to Tristan, but he responded anyway, taking her arm and leading her to the bank of elevators that lined one wall.

  “Or it went very well, depending on your perspective.”

  “He’s still out there somewhere.”

  “And you’re still alive. I’m more than willing to trade one for the other.”

  “Did you really think he might succeed in killing me?”

  “If I did, I would have done what I wanted to—taken the next road to nowhere and helped you disappear.”

  “You’re not serious. You’d lose your job for that.”

  “And?” He turned to her as the elevator doors closed, his eyes blazing from his hard face.

  “I wouldn’t want you to lose your job for helping me.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to lose your life so I could keep my job. If that meant kidnapping you and taking you somewhere safe, that’s what I’d do.”

  “You weren’t really thinking about kidnapping me?”

  “I was.” He meant it. The truth was in his eyes and in the intensity of his gaze.

  “That would not have been a good idea.” But it was an intriguing one. Going off to some unknown destination with a man determined to protect her. A fairy tale come to life. Only this wasn’t a fairy tale and the chance of a happy ending was slim to none. “I guess we’ll just have to be thankful it didn’t come down to that.”

  “I don’t know, Sunshine. I don’t think I’d mind spending a few weeks in an exotic location keeping an eye on you.”

  Her cheeks heated at his words, and he grinned, the flirty mischief in his gaze enough to make her pulse race. She really needed to get a grip. She really needed to focus. Someone wanted her dead and she was mooning over an ATF agent she’d known for less than a week. The door to the elevator slid open and she rushed out into the hall, nearly falling backward as Tristan yanked her to a stop.

  “Let me lead, okay?” All the humor was gone from his face and from his eyes. In its place was grim determination and the hard, implacable expression she’d seen at the cabin in the mountains.

  “There’s no way Gordon could be in here. There are police officers stationed all over this wing. It’s impossible.”

  “I’ve seen the impossible happe
n more times than I’d care to remember. Besides, someone called from the hospital. That person may or not be dangerous to you.” He led her to the nurses’ station, the quiet of the ICU broken by the beep and hum of machinery that supported the lives of the patients there. Tristan spoke to the nurse on duty, but his words didn’t register. Martha’s heart was beating too hard and too fast, her blood sloshing in her ears.

  No matter how many times she told herself not to be afraid, she was. The terror clawed at her, threatening to turn her into a blubbering mass of hysteria if she let it. She was not going to let it. She’d held herself together this long, she was not going to fall apart now.

  Keep telling yourself that, Martha. Eventually your racing heart might believe it.

  She frowned as Tristan stopped in her father’s doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just making sure nothing is out of place.”

  “Out of place? There’s nothing in there but my dad and a bunch of machines.”

  “Exactly. So if there is something else lying around—a box, a bag, a duffel—it would be worth checking out.”

  “A bomb?” She whispered the words as if that could make them less real.

  “I doubt it, but it’s always better to be cautious.” He moved silently, making a circuit of the room, glancing behind machines, under the bed, behind the door. Then, finally, gestured for her to enter. “It’s okay. Come on in.”

  Relieved, she hurried to her father’s side. There was some color in his cheeks now, but he still looked awful—tubes and wires snaking out from his mouth, his nose, his chest. “You look like the Bionic Man before he got all his new parts, Dad. Remember how we used to watch that show together while we worked in the store? You had that little black-and-white television, and we’d sit in front of it, watching until a customer came in. Then we’d argue over who was going to ring up the order. You always won, and I always ended up missing half the program.” She squeezed his hand, was surprised to feel the pressure returned. “You can hear me, huh?”

  He opened his eyes, tried to nod.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”