Colorado Hitch (16 page)

Chapter Twenty

By the time the men left Wild Bluff, all of the guys on the ranch knew who they were going after. Billy, Mike, and Davis all wanted a piece of the action, but this mission had the potential to be one of the most dangerous they’d ever attempted. Grant stepped into his bedroom and caught Roger’s angry stare.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t send you,” Grant said.

Roger huffed out a breath. “I get it, but I’m still pissed and probably won’t feel better until we hear that this guy is dead.”

“I know. I hate that they’ll be dark for a while, but I don’t think there’s much I could do about that.”

“I need to do something physical or I’m going to go crazy.” Roger paused after he slipped on his tennis shoes. “Want to join me?”

Grant checked his phone and nodded. “Sure, I have time. What are we going to be doing?”

“Cleaning the barn then maybe run the O.”

“Sounds good. Let me change then I’ll be out there with you.”

Roger looked like he was going to head out of the room but stopped next to Grant. Their gazes met, and he saw the pain, anger, and confusion still in Roger’s depths. He reached up and cupped Roger’s cheek. That was all it took for Roger to melt against him.

“I love you,” Roger whispered.

“I know, and I know you’re mad. I love you, and you being pissed at me won’t change that.”

Roger nodded then kissed Grant’s shoulder. He leaned back and stared deep into Grant’s eyes. “We okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Let’s go work off some of your frustrations. The guys won’t land until tomorrow. We’ll have time to chat then, but we’ll need to keep it brief.”

“I hope Yildiz suffers.” Roger’s words were spit out harshly, anger evident in each syllable.

“I know, but he won’t suffer much. He probably won’t even know that he received a lethal dose of insulin. It will look like he died of natural causes as he sleeps through it all, dying without waking.”

“I would love to string him up,” Roger said.

“If circumstances were different, I’d let you.”

Roger huffed out a laugh and nodded. “You’re the best.”

“No, you are.”

They both chuckled before Roger gave him a fierce hug. They separated, and Grant dressed for physical activity then met Roger in the barn. Roger was intense in his work, getting all of the projects completed in the barn in record time. Once they were finished, Roger headed to the O while Grant grabbed them some water and a snack. He watched his husband finish the course, his lungs heaving.

“Good time?” Grant asked.

Roger nodded. “Yeah, it’s a record for me.”

“I’m going to give it a run through. Time me, would you?” He didn’t want Roger running the course again so quickly since he already looked tired. Roger seemed to be onto him and shook his head. Deep frown lines were etched in his forehead and around his mouth as his lips turned down. Roger rolled his eyes before plopping down on a bench they’d set up next to the course. His man stretched his hamstrings, touching his toes as he reached for Grant’s phone, holding it up, indicating that he was about to press the timer button.

“You ready?” Roger called out.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Roger looked back at the phone, rolling his eyes again. Grant suspected that he was going to be gifted with a few more eye rolls before the week was over.

Roger held up his hand, all five fingers extended. Then he dropped one, then another. “Three, two, one.” Roger pointed at Grant and he took off.

This pass through the course was about giving Roger time to recover, but he couldn’t go too slowly or his man would be pissed. Grant sped up on the part of the course he aced all the time then didn’t try too hard on the obstacles he had issues with. When he ran back to Roger, he was met with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

“Did you run that slow on purpose?” Roger asked.

“I wasn’t that slow. What was my time?”

“Ten four.” Roger held up Grant’s phone showing the time.

“Hey, my best is eight ten, and we just finished doing manual labor in the barn. Why don’t you go take another run at it,” Grant said as he grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip.

“You’re impossible.” Roger lessened the sting of his words as he leaned in and brushed his lips over Grant’s. “You may be an ass, but you’re my ass and I love you.”

Grant chuckled and swatted Roger on the butt. “Go run the course then I need to shower. Do you think you can help us in the control room?”

Roger looked up at the sky then nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I just want the guy gone.”

“Our team will get rid of him, don’t worry about that.”

The nod from Roger was almost imperceptible. This go around, Roger went slower, not trying to break a record on the course. When he finished, he ran up and hugged Grant, sharing his sweat. They both laughed as they headed inside, Roger no longer as brittle.

They showered together, Roger pressing him up against the wall and taking him hard and fast. Anger and pain mixed in with the lovemaking. Grant felt Roger’s aching heart and opened himself for his lover. He knew Roger was thinking of Hayden, but he didn’t mind playing second fiddle to a ghost because no matter how much Roger thought of the past, Grant knew he was Roger's future.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ryan had slept most of the last flight, and when they hit the ground in Athens, he was ready to roll. Zander checked into the hotel, while Tucker grabbed them some food. Zander called Grant for a brief update, learning that nothing had changed. They would be on the fishing boat at four in the morning.

Since Ryan felt the most rested, he headed out and bought the clothes and equipment they would need. Everything else would be on the boat or they’d brought it with them. Once back in the room, he took a quick shower and stretched out, forcing himself to relax. He was excited to be out in the field. It was weird, what they did, but if he could make the world a safer place for regular people and the men in the military, he’d not hesitate to do what had to be done.

When their alarms rang at three in the morning, he wished he’d slept more, but they would have enough time to catch up on sleep when they were on the boat.

Zander and Tucker both looked like three in the morning had come too soon. They gathered their things and headed to the dock, finding the boat they were hitching a ride on. Before the sun even began to tint the horizon a dark shade of purple, they were underway. When the sun did rise over the sea, it was breathtakingly beautiful. The water was an amazing blue color that had him transfixed. He, Zander, and Tucker helped on deck with the fishing as much as they could. The rest of the time, they stayed out of the way. Most of the day was spent casting nets and sorting fish. At the end of the day, he was exhausted from working so hard.

They ate together in the galley with the other fishermen largely ignoring them. They didn’t speak the same language, so it wasn’t really awkward like it would have been if they’d been able to understand each other. The next day was more of the same, fishing and enjoying the view. He was amazed with how beautiful the surroundings were. They were close enough to the drop-off location that he was sure they would be on land at some point in the next twenty-four hours.

Late that evening, he, Tucker, and Zander talked about their plans for getting off the boat and onto land. They had the use of a small zodiac and some equipment that had somehow been made available to them. They didn’t have any guns, and hopefully, they wouldn’t need them.

He slept well that night and was ready to move on to their main task. Entering the country this way took a long time, and he wished that he was in contact with Davis and the guys at Wild Bluff, but he understood the need to be dark. Being on their own had been odd, and that they were with strangers seemed weird. They couldn’t talk openly, even if the other men wouldn’t understand them. He wasn’t even sure the man who ran the boat knew what they were doing. Though there was a language barrier, saying too much in the open would be stupid.

After a full day of fishing and another excellent Greek dinner cooked by one of the men on the ship, they headed to their bunks but didn’t fall asleep. A few hours later, he got up and checked his GPS. They were within an hour of the drop point. He tapped Zander on the shoe and his friend sat up, blinking at Ryan. It took him about two seconds to come to enough to realize what was going on. Zander nodded then tapped Tucker on the arm.

Quietly, they made their way onto the deck. The captain met them at the back of the ship and shook each of their hands. He leaned in close and spoke slowly.

“I’m not good with English. Thank you. The refugees thank you. We all thank you.”

Ryan guessed the man knew what they were doing otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. The zodiac was inflated, and Tucker helped him load their bags and equipment into the small boat. After shaking the captain’s hand again, they pushed away from the ship and headed towards the shore.

They were entering Turkey illegally, and hopefully, they wouldn’t have issues getting back to Athens. Taking the train would be easier than flying. They were gambling that their fake passports with entry stamps already in place wouldn’t cause any problems. He couldn’t wait to get home. Being gone on a mission for this long was difficult. He missed Davis very much, and missed their life at Wild Bluff. He’d become accustomed to their slow pace and the way they operated. Their main purpose was missions like this, but sometimes it was hard to remember they weren’t just cowboys who ran an obstacle course for fun.

*~*~*

Marshal missed Zander terribly. For some reason, he wasn’t sleeping well with Zander gone this time around. He wanted his man home. The fourth night the guys were away, he couldn’t settle and ended up in the kitchen reading an article on guns. He missed being able to hit a target from a mile away. The physical effects of what Craig had done would stay with him forever. He was still a better shot than most people but not good enough to be trusted on a mission. Add to it the other physical effects of Craig’s attack, and he was too big of a deficit for the team.

At around three in the morning, he heard someone behind him and he turned to see Duff stumble in. It had to be difficult for Duff to watch them run the operation while he sat in the background.

“Ah, couldn’t sleep either?” Duff asked.

“No, sir. I wonder where they are today.” Marshal had been keeping track of where they should be, but he wasn’t certain. They had to be somewhere in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, if his calculations were correct, but he wasn’t sure. It would take days for the team to get into a position where they could contact Wild Bluff again.

“It’s hard staying here, knowing that men you sent out are in a situation where they could be killed. I’ve sat here in this kitchen, in the middle of the night, worrying myself crazy over you guys so many times. This is tougher than being out there, different, not as physical, but very hard.”

“I didn’t think it would be this challenging, not really, but you’re right. This is crazy difficult. I don’t like having to wait. And this mission really sucks. Other missions, we can keep in contact with the crew, and I like that better. I like being able to tap into a database and watch them on traffic cameras.”

Duff poured some water into a kettle and placed it on the stove, flipping on the burner. “What you and Grant are doing is important.”

Marshal heard another noise and turned to see Grant shuffling down the hall. “Can’t sleep?”

“No, I’m worried.” Grant rubbed his eyes before he turned away from Marshal. “Oh, Duff, I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

“I can’t sleep. Want some food?”

“Sure,” Grant said.

“I could eat a little.” Marshal got up to help Duff prepare their meal. He was in the middle of cutting vegetables when Davis stepped into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, son,” Duff said.

Davis yawned and stretched. “You’re all up early,”

“Can’t sleep. I’m worried about the guys,” Marshal replied.

“Is there any reason to worry?” Davis’s voice shook as he asked the question.

“No, I just hate not having contact.” Marshal grabbed the onion and cut more, glad that he had the company. Then Billy and Roger stepped into the kitchen, so he cut some more, preparing enough vegetables for the whole crew to eat. Meanwhile, Duff cracked more eggs into the bowl, whipping the substance into a froth.

“I don’t think I have a clean pan big enough to scramble all of these eggs. Marshal, could you cook up those veggies to add to the eggs and we’ll make a casserole?” Duff asked.

“Sure.” Marshal saw Mike come into the kitchen and he smiled to himself. These guys were his world. He loved Zander with all of his heart, but these men were family.

Grant cleared his throat. “Since we’re all up, maybe we can pull out the computers and start looking for news articles, any police reports, or government concerns for the area.”

Marshal nodded as Duff sighed. Everyone turned to stare at Duff, which made Marshal uncomfortable. Duff was great, and it really was only his insecurities making him feel like he wasn’t enough of a leader to really take over this group.

Duff glanced up from his task with the eggs and shook his head. “You all shouldn’t be staring at me. Grant and Marshal are in charge. If Grant thinks it’s time to look, go look. I’m just a tired old man. I don’t want any of you being hurt and searching might mean that we find out one of you is hurt. Maybe it really is time for me to leave Wild Bluff.”

“Duff, what do you mean?” Davis asked.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Everyone is worried about the guys in Turkey, and I don’t mean to complain. All of this, the danger, the worry—I think it really is too much for me now.” Duff sighed again then shook his head. “I’ll finish up breakfast. All of you go get your computers or tablets and start searching. Grant and Marshal are in charge now, so ask them your questions.”

Grant stepped close to Duff and put his arm around their old leader. “Thank you for all you’ve done for this crew and for the world.” Grant hugged Duff then turned back to the rest of the guys. “We give almost too much. I’m glad that I have you all in my life. We need to look for information, and we’ll start now. When you’re tired, sleep. We’ll have an around the clock watch until we get news from the guys.”

As the men dispersed to grab their computers, Marshal went to Duff and hugged him. “You’re a good man. Thank you for all you’ve done. If you’re ready to leave, I’m okay with that, but I also want you to know you have a place here. Wild Bluff won’t be the same without you, but I understand needing a break.”

“Maybe I’ll take an extended vacation. I won’t leave yet.” Duff chewed his lower lip then nodded. “I really think a vacation is needed. This mission almost seems worse than any mission you all have ever gone out on.”

“A vacation would be good. It would allow you to rest. Maybe we all could use a vacation once the guys come home,” Grant said.

“It would be good, but right now, I need to get this egg casserole finished or you won’t have any food.” Duff frowned and turned back to the stove.

Marshal caught Grant’s gaze and they both nodded. Later, once they were alone, they would discuss Duff. He was doing better, but maybe he needed to talk to his doctor again about his medication.

The hours passed as they read newspapers and searched for information. Four different news channels were displayed on the TV with the volume off unless something interesting came on about Turkey or Greece. Eventually, Marshal headed to bed, dropping to the mattress and screaming into the pillow. He was angry and felt helpless. Anything could happen to the guys, and he wouldn’t know it.

After a while, he settled and sleep took him. Later, he woke with his heart thundering and his mind racing. He gasped for air, searching the bed for Zander though he knew he wasn’t there. Something had happened, and he could feel it in his bones. During his shower, he couldn’t shake the sensation that tragedy had struck. If only he could text or call Zander, then he’d feel better about the situation.

He was probably just being a fool. He didn’t know if anything had gone wrong. It was just his imagination and bad dreams. Before he headed into the kitchen for coffee and to begin looking at the news feeds, he'd convinced himself that nothing had happened. His over-active imagination was causing problems, that was all. Nothing had gone wrong, and Zander was fine…at least he would keep telling himself that if it meant he believed Zander was okay and nothing bad had happened.