Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds (34 page)

“It’s okay, deputy,” Nick explained. “She’s been in more than her share of firefights. That gunman didn’t have a chance.”

Without another word, Nick pivoted, exiting the gym with a motivated pace. A few moments later, he was again at Diana’s side. “Did you know the guy in the suit or either of the shooters?”

“No,” she said, her eyes beginning to water.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worried over her reaction to his question.

Her body was racked by sobs as she buried her head into his chest. Still puzzled, Nick held her tight until the worst of it had passed. Finally regaining some control, she looked up and said, “I thought it was over. I thought I was dead. I was so… so scared.”

The weeping returned, Diana’s body shaking as Nick held her close. “You’re braver than anyone else I know,” he whispered. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”

While he continued to support her, Nick realized he hadn’t seen Bishop or Terri anywhere. He’d been so worried about Diana and his men.

Embarrassed by the oversight, he looked down at her and said, “Where are Bishop and Terri?”

“They never made it to the meeting,” she replied. “I hope they’re okay. You don’t think someone was going after all of the Alliance leadership, do you?”

Nick had already thought of that, dispatching protection to all of the other councilmen and women. “No, I think that you were the only target. Still, something must have gone wrong…. Bishop promised me he’d be here.”

The county road was bumpy as hell, the blacktop having gone without maintenance since the collapse. None of the occupants in the van seemed to mind.

Taking the less traveled route had been a necessary precaution as it was less likely that any law enforcement would be traveling the seldom-used roadway.

“Diana Brown survived,” commented the passenger in the backseat, pulling a radio headset from his ear. “The police are looking for a van with Oklahoma plates and three men inside. Someone must have gotten a look at us.”

“The boss isn’t going to be pleased,” added the driver, casting a nervous glance at the man in the passenger seat.

Loosening his tie, the well-spoken gentlemen who’d initiated the entire episode didn’t seem to be concerned. “The boss will be just fine,” he stated. “We accomplished our primary goal. Killing that bitch would have been a bonus, but everyone knew it was a longshot from the start. We did our job, and did it well.”

They continued on, the mood inside improving when an old road sign stated, “Oklahoma State Line – 2 miles.”

“Did you see the look on that guy’s face when I threw that chair at him?” asked the man in the backseat.

“Yes,” replied the driver. “He was almost as shocked as the guy I shot.”

“I missed all the fun,” responded Mr. Suit-and-Tie. “On the next job, one of you two clowns has to play the respectable role and let me enjoy a little
incitement
.”

Sheriff Watts eagerly scanned the initial reports coming out of Amarillo, relieved that Miss Brown wasn’t listed as one of the victims.

He almost missed the section containing the eyewitness report, the word “Oklahoma” registering immediately as his brain sorted the facts as known.

Turning quickly to a stack of folders lying on his desk, the lawman flipped through several open cases until Bishop’s report on the incident in Davidson County was in his hand. There it was again, the van’s inspection sticker. A white van. Most likely from Oklahoma.

Then there was a conversation he’d had with Pete just that morning.

The councilman and former law enforcement officer was often interested in the criminal activity occurring throughout the territories. Being Bishop’s friend, Pete was especially keen to hear about the Texan’s adventures outside Fort Davidson.

Upon hearing about the van’s registration sticker, Pete recalled the strange encounter he’d had the previous day at the bar. Producing the $100 bill, he described the man who’d left the super-sized tip and his odd behavior. Oklahoma, yet again.

Watts scratched his head, his mind screaming that he was missing something very important. Finally, it dawned.

The man who may have incited the riot in Amarillo had been wearing a suit and tie, described by many as “well dressed.” Pete had used the exact same description of his customer.

Watts wondered if it might possibly be the same man.

Grabbing a pen and notepad, the sheriff scribbled an order to be broadcasted immediately. He wanted a sketch artist to work with key witnesses to create an image of the supposed troublemaker. He could show the drawing to Pete, and if it was the same man, he would start passing the image around Alpha to see if he got a hit.

After handing his written command to an assistant, Watts then flipped open his notepad and found Nick’s emergency Sat-phone number.

The head of Alliance security needed to know his initial findings, as well as his suspicions regarding Pete’s customer.

Opening a drawer, the sheriff retrieved the high-tech device and dialed Nick’s phone.

The big man answered, and then listened as Watts relayed his findings.

“Now isn’t that all quite interesting, Sheriff. You’ve given me a lot to consider. Has anyone seen Bishop, by the way?”

“No, I thought he was with you.”

“He never showed up.”

“Do I need to put out a bulletin?” Watts asked, his concerns now going wider.

“Not yet. Let’s see where he turns up.”

It took a while, unpacking the truck, verifying Terri and Hunter were shipshape and grabbing a bite to eat. After cleaning his weapons, the Texan decided to walk down to the courthouse and see if anyone knew what all the helicopter fuss was about.

A few blocks away, he ran into Butter taking an after-dinner stroll and enjoying the cool air.

“Hey, boss,” the always cheerful kid greeted.

“What’s up, Butter? You doing okay?”

“Yes, sir. I just found a place serving great hamburgers. They were so yummy, I had four.”

Grunting at the mental image of a bewildered waitress and harried cook, Bishop asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all evening. “Hey, any word on what those three Blackhawks were doing in Alpha?”

With his eyes growing large, Butter spouted, “You haven’t heard? Miss Brown was shot up in Amarillo. I hear she’s going to be okay, but a lot of people were hurt or killed. Some sort of riot.”

Bishop grew pale at the news, his mind moving in a thousand different directions at once. “You sure? She’s not hurt bad?”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I heard over the radio. I was hanging out with the security guys at the courthouse when the news came through that she was going to be fine. It was a tense afternoon, that’s for sure.”

“And the copters?”

“Mr. Nick went tearing ass up there with two rifle squads and a whole load of pissed law enforcement. Sheriff Watts is on his way as well. I hope they catch whoever is responsible. I want to watch Mr. Nick skin the asshole alive.”

Butter continued with his report, relaying to his boss the few details he’d heard over the airwaves.

The two men then continued their stroll, Bishop wanting to go by the security office and see if there was any additional news. Terri would want to know the latest.

They were just walking up the courthouse steps when two police cars rounded the corner, followed by Diana’s RV and bookending, black SUVs.

“Speak of the devil,” Bishop said, and then as an afterthought, he added, “Butter, do me a favor and go tell Terri what’s going on. I’m sure she’ll want to be here.”

“Yes, sir,” sounded the instant response, and then Butter was hurrying toward the bungalow at a fair clip.

Nick obviously wasn’t taking any chances, a massive security presence appearing around the courthouse in just moments. Bishop didn’t blame him.

In addition to the police, the Texan spotted a least a dozen of Nick’s best men positioning all around the area. There were even two counter-snipers stationed on a nearby rooftop.

Next came the doctor.

Evidently pre-warned of the convoy’s arrival, the sawbones was rushed to the idling RV and where he quickly disappeared inside. Not wanting to get in the way, Bishop hung back, letting the professionals do their jobs.

Motion drew Bishop’s eye, Terri and Butter hustling up the street, a look of concern coloring his wife’s distraught face. A gleeful Hunter was bouncing on the bigger kid’s shoulders.

“What are you doing out here?” Terri snapped. “How is she? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Bishop replied. “The doc just went in the RV, and I’ve been trying to stay out of the way.”

Casting a frown at her husband, Terri snipped, “They’re our best friends in the whole world. How can you not check on her?”

And with that, Terri made for the RV.

Just as his wife arrived at the door, Nick appeared on the steps. Nodding curtly to Terri, the ex-Green Beret stepped out of the way and let her past. Bishop had never seen his friend look so bad; concern over Nick’s health now added to his list of worries.

Bishop decided Terri was right, and with Butter and his son in tow, the Texan approached his friend.

“Hey, how is she?”

“She’ll be alright,” came the brisk response.

He seems really sideways about this
, Bishop thought.
I guess I would be, too
. “Anything I can do to help out?”

Nick threw Bishop a look that nearly froze the Texan’s soul. “A little late for that, isn’t it?” the big man snarled.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Stepping forward and poking a finger in Bishop’s chest, Nick barked, “You were supposed to have been there, my
friend
. You and your wife told me not to worry… that I could stay here and mend… that you two would be there. You’d better have a class-fucking-A excuse,
Judas
.”

The confrontation was so out of character, so unexpected, Bishop seemed to have trouble forming words. Nick didn’t give him time to recoup, pressing in a fast and furious tirade. “Diana told me you didn’t like this new property ownership law. You made it quite clear that it was a bad idea. So just because you disagree, you let her down? What the fuck is the matter with you? Don’t you have any honor?”

The insult hit Bishop hard, the fact that the words were coming from the man he considered his best friend multiplying the effect. “Nick… I know you don’t mean that. Chill out, man.”

“Chill out? Where the fuck were you? Diana came
this
close to getting her head blown off!”

“Terri wasn’t feeling well…. We were running late….”

Nick stepped in closer, his face blistering with rage, “Terri! Now you’re going to blame this shit on your wife? I can’t believe I ever called you or that backstabbing, two-faced bitch of yours, my friends. Why on earth did I bother saving your sorry asses? How many times have I bailed you out? What a fool I’ve been. If you or your wife want Diana’s job, why don’t you just step up and say so? Fucking cowards… both of you.”

Bishop could take any man’s words, his time in the military helping to develop an extra-thick skin. The insults to Terri were a different story.

Now it was the Texan’s turn to step into the larger man, his voice going low and mean, “Back that shit down, trooper… right fucking now. Say anything you want about me, but leave Terri out of this.”