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Authors: Kris Michaels

Joseph (12 page)

BOOK: Joseph
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“Can’t we just run? Hide somewhere until they forget about me?”

“No, baby girl. This man will find you, and he’ll kill you unless I stop him. Your only hope for a normal life right now is me—doing my job.”

“I’m not going to lie, Joey. I’m really scared right now.”

“Do you trust me, baby girl?”

“With everything I am.”

He pulled her to him and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before he said, “Maybe I should’ve had that energy drink.”

Chapter Ten

Ember walked through the thick waves of thigh-high prairie grass and plucked another dainty violet flower adding it to her bouquet. She knew Joey was somewhere in the hills surrounding the cabin. He had left early before the morning sun could shine over the peaks of the beautiful mountains. She walked further and gathered more of the blossoms.

“Ember, please don’t go out any farther. Joseph isn’t expecting our guest for a day or so, but he would kick my ass if I let a bear get you.” Chief’s warning caused her to pause and look back at the house. She had, in fact, walked longer than she intended. She smiled and waved to him turning back towards the cabin. Spying a lovely cluster of the beautiful purple flowers she walked over. The profusion of violet waved happily in the light breeze of the late spring afternoon.

Chief dropped off the porch and headed towards her. She smiled up at him. “Mike, I’m sure you’ll protect me from any wildlife that may venture out of the hills. Look at the flowers. They’re so beautiful!”

He smiled and shook his head. “Women! How can weeds be beautiful?”

Ember laughed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Haven’t you ever heard that? It’s the middle of June and the flowers are still blooming!”

She dropped to her knees to pick some more of the blossoms. Ember heard a buzzing whizzing noise and looked up in time to see Mike’s body jerk and fall before she heard the report of a gun. If she’d still been standing, she’d have taken a shot to the chest. She saw the bullet explode through Mike’s jeans. She heard him roll from where he’d fallen as she dove into the grass after him. Taking his cue, she tumbled to the left violently and froze when she heard the slap of another bullet hit to her right.

She whispered, “Oh God! Mike? Mike? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be okay. Stay where you are Ember. Don’t move. The grass is thick and high enough to camouflage our position. Don’t move. He has the upper ground and will see if you move an inch.”

“You’re hurt. I need to take a look at that wound.”

“If you move, you’re dead. You being dead wouldn’t help either of us, now would it?”

Her heart pounded loud in her ears.
Okay, that’s true.
“What do we do? I need to assess your wound!”

Chief’s chuckle was dry and reassuring. “Well, now all things considered, I think our best course of action is to wait. I don’t believe the bullet hit an artery. The bleed isn’t that fast. Don’t worry. Joseph heard that report. The guy up there has no idea he is being hunted. When it gets dark, we’ll move, but for now, we stay absolutely still. Do you understand?”

“I’m not moving. How bad is your leg?” Her mind replayed what she had seen, a thigh wound, outside. It might not be life threatening, but it would be excruciatingly painful.

“The bullet hole doesn’t seem to have a problem. I, on the other hand, would like a very stiff drink.”

Ember laughed despite their situation. Silence extended for what seemed like hours. Chief was close. She could hear his rhythmic breathing. “Tell me about your woman, Mike. What is she like?”

There was a long pause before he responded. “Desiree. Her name is Desiree. She’s a good woman with a very kind heart. She’s never been more than a hundred miles from home. Innocent and beautiful inside, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do. That’s important, being a good person. How long have you two been together?” Ember fought the urge to wipe the ants off her hand and instead blew them off.

“Together? We aren’t. But I’ve known her for almost two years now. I met her when Jacob’s wife brought him out here to heal. She is young. Younger than I should be hanging around. She just turned twenty-four, twelve years younger than me. I told her there was no future for us, that she needed to find someone better for her.”

Their conversation lulled, both lost in their own thoughts. A strong hiss from his position brought him back into focus. “Mike, what’s wrong?”

He groaned and answered through what sounded like clenched teeth. “Muscles are cramping in both my legs. Not. Pleasant.”

Ember closed her eyes. The physiology of the wound and the cramping indicated bleeding in excess of what he was letting on.

“How much blood are you loosing?” Ember inched forward towards him.

“Couldn’t tell you, Ember, I can’t see and I’m not moving to find out. Don’t you even think about moving!” His words were clipped in warning as he spoke to her.

Ember dug her toe in and pushed herself another six inches in his direction. “Wouldn’t dream of it. God knows I always do what I’m told.”

A bullet slapped the ground to her left, slamming down in front of her, kicking dirt up in her face. The report of the shot followed seconds later.

Mike’s frantic whisper was immediate. “Ember? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, not moving another centimeter. I promise!”

“Damn it, Ember if you move again, he will kill you! I’m okay. I’ve been hit worse.” His voice rasped to her through the thick grass.

“Mike? Is Joey better than this guy?” She struggled to hold her fear at bay and to keep him talking to her.

Chief’s voice was perfectly calm as he replied with a breathlessness that had her worried. “Ember, Joseph is the most skilled assassin in the world. He…he
is
death. The man in those hills has no idea how close to his maker he is at this moment.”

 

*

 

The first of two muzzle flashes flamed to his left and up about two hundred feet. The first bullet must not have found its mark. Joseph’s eyes searched the area near the house. He couldn’t see Ember or Chief. They were either in the cabin or concealed in the tall grass. If he couldn’t see them, the assassin above him couldn’t see them either. The most direct path to the assassin’s position would place him in the hit man’s peripheral vision, the most sensitive of all vision fields for an assassin. Moving away would cost him time, and he wasn’t sure how much time Ember and Chief had. He looked again at the field. If the killer thought he’d scored a hit, he would be on the move towards the meadow. There was no movement.
Thank God
.

Joseph slowly worked another hundred feet to his left and then started a very methodical and controlled climb up the mountain before he veered right again. A shift in the lower area around a pine tree caught his attention. Freezing automatically, Joseph’s eyes moved in a strip and grid search of the terrain. The bush beside the tree moved slightly and Joseph discerned the shape of the sniper’s rifle supported by a rock at the base of the tree. The gun jumped in the killer’s hand. The sharp report echoed down the valley. He closed his eyes, momentarily listening for the telltale soft thud of a bullet going through flesh and bone. All assassins knew the tone. He counted the seconds it would take to reach the valley floor but heard nothing. His focus once again landed on the man at the base of the snarled pine tree.

Joseph thumbed the safety loop off his favored kill weapon. His blade. The balanced hilt sat in his hand perfectly. A steady inhaled breath aligned his target and his attention. Joseph could feel the beat of his heart. He ruthlessly pushed the flittering of birds from limb to limb into the background of his mind’s eye. The assassin became his only focus. Forward. Each foot placement became the difference between life and death. Forward towards the man who wanted to take Em from him. Adrenaline jacked his system. His training and experience had turned him into a lethal weapon. He became hyper-aware of every detail surrounding him, his target and the area they both occupied. His target’s attention focused on the field just as his centered on the assassin. The man moved slowly, carefully adjusting his scope. Joseph could tell he had located either Ember or Chief. The hit man inhaled a steadying breath. Joseph’s silent approach went undetected. He’d plotted a collision course to eliminate the man trying to kill the woman he loved.

Discipline forced emotion from his mind. Joseph’s knife slipped around the neck of the man who knelt at the base of the tree. He pulled it tight against the Spaniard’s throat. “I hope you have made peace with your God, Scorpion. You went after my woman and for that I’ll kill you.”

The man’s muscles tensed against the razor sharp edge of Joseph’s blade. A trickle of blood dribbled down his neck. The assassin’s quiet hiss carried far enough for Joseph to hear him. “Who are you? How do you know of me?” The certainty of the assassin’s death was the only reason Joseph answered.

He pushed his knife deeper against the Spaniard’s neck sending a thicker stream of blood over the blade. “I have many names. I’m the Guardian.”

Realization widened the man’s eyes as he sneered before he spat, “You’re Fury. Had I known she was yours, I would not have taken payment for the job. I would have raped and tortured her just to draw you out. Your death would be worth so much more than the killing of this whore.”

Joseph’s sharp pull across the jugular ended the conversation. He held the man’s head up as his body slumped down. He watched with an unemotional detachment as life literally drained out of the assassin. No, there was no emotion, no regret. In order to survive, others died.
Others
died. Not him. Not Ember. Not Chief. Not today.

The dying declaration of the assassin provided proof positive that Joseph could not involve Ember in his world. The life he led would follow him until the day he died. The idiocy of thinking about an ordinary life with Ember mocked him as he did what he was trained to do. He scanned the area methodically and waited to ensure he was alone on the mountain. Segmenting the terrain, he visually cleared it, ensuring there was no further threat before he stood.

Looking down at the dead man he called out, “Ember?”

There was silence and then Ember answered, “Joey? Chief’s been hit. He’s unconscious. Blood loss I think. I can’t see him.”

“It’s safe to move. Help him.”

He watched as she lunged forward and dropped into the deep grass again. “Ember can you handle the situation?”

He waited for an agonizingly long period of time before she yelled back. “Yes. He’s alive, but he’s lost a lot of blood! I’m going to need help getting him into the cabin.”

“Take care of him. I’ll be there soon.” Joseph picked up the dead man’s bag and started rifling through the assorted weaponry. He glanced up when he saw her run towards the cabin. His eyes followed her and waited until she emerged again with a pack and raced back toward the meadow.

Going through the man’s equipment, he found a rugged laptop and a black ledger. He paged through the ledger and scanned the information. Joseph drew a deep breath and replaced the computer and book. Taking the assassin’s backpack, he strapped it on before he bent, lifting the man onto his shoulders.

Pain ripped through his body. The sensation of ten thousand knives piercing his back and shoulder forced him to his knees. He dumped the body to the forest floor and gasped for air. The warmth of blood flowing over his wounds confirmed the damage the dead man’s weight had wrought. Fighting the black spots that invaded the edges of his vision, he pulled another rasping breath. Rage filled him. Anger at his weakness and physical limitations seethed deep and powerfully. Resentment of his body’s deficiency fueled his weak-assed attempt to move the man’s body. Grabbing the man’s collar, he pulled the man towards a rocky canyon. Joseph unceremoniously shoved the corpse over a ledge and watched as the body plummeted to the rocks below.

There was no way down into the crevasse. He swept the ground where he had pulled the dead man’s carcass with pine tree boughs and erased all evidence of his movement. With a methodical dedication, he worked the trail back to the tree where the assassin had hunkered down. Joseph policed the brass from the assassin’s rifle and pocketed it. He scattered dirt and pine needles over the blood soaked ground. Finally, he worked a strip and grid pattern search to ensure nothing could indicate his or the assassin’s presence on the mountain. Even if the man was found, there could be absolutely no connections made. The sun had sunk behind the granite topped mountain before he walked out into the meadow.

His approach behind her was silent. She didn’t see or hear him come to her side. She had fashioned an IV holder out of a stick and had it hanging above Chief’s head. Ember had cleaned and bandaged the wound and was taking his pulse when she looked up. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed him. His wounds screamed at the touch. His body seized. He pulled away barely stifling a groan.

Joseph dropped his hands to his knees and braced himself in an attempt to remain standing. Nodding towards Chief he asked, “How bad is it?”

Ember shrugged pulling her hands through her mass of curls. “Sit down before you fall down.”

Only because he was going to fall down anyway, he sat down hard on the earth next to Chief.

His girl knelt on the ground again. “Have your wounds reopened?”

He nodded and drew a shaky breath. “Yeah. Bad this time. How is he?” Ember’s manner automatically transitioned. Her briefing was professional and to the point. “It was a through and through. The high caliber bullet from the rifle made one hell of a mess. The saving grace—it didn’t hit the bone. I stitched it up while he was out. He came to and was determined to move once I told him you said it was safe. So to prevent his macho ass from ripping out the stitches I just finished, I pushed some morphine in the IV. He is out for at least the next two to three hours. I’ve given him plasma, ringers and antibiotics for the infection.”

BOOK: Joseph
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