Live By The Team (Team Fear Book 1) (20 page)

Which meant they needed Craft to run more computer hacks, drawing their teammate further into Ryder’s mess. “I don’t like it.”

“
I figured, but you’ll do it.” Rose flipped the notebook closed. “For Lauren.”

“
Asshole.” There wasn’t much heat in his tone. Rose was hitting triggers, but they existed whether Rose pushed or not. Ryder had already proven she was his weakness, so yeah, he’d involve Craft, and he’d run an off-books operation. Stateside. Because he was a fucking idiot with a death wish. As long as they were doing it, they were doing it right. They needed to know what the hell Smythe was up to. Cops would be zero help. Besides, putting his name on a formal complaint would draw attention they didn’t need. “We don’t have any actual evidence against Smythe to take to the police.”

“
We damn well know that he and the lawyer are running a scam. The question is, do we want evidence or retribution?”

Ryder watched Rose beat a noiseless tune on the steering wheel. Blood marked the spot on the wheel where Lauren’s head had hit. The reminder yanked a visceral response from Ryder. The accident could have killed Lauren. He would happily end Smythe, but while fully justified in his anger, Ryder going rogue might prove to Captain Johnson that Team Fear was as unstable as Team Echo. A situation Captain Johnson had warned Ryder against. “We need to stay off the radar. No police. No public flogging.”

“
That’s a fine line to walk.” Rose’s eyelid twitched. “How deep is the hole we’re standing in?”

Ryder hadn’t told him about Johnson’s visit. How the fuck did you warn your best friend he was likely on someone’s hit list? “The media surrounding Mad Dog drew some unwanted attention.”

“
Knowing you, that’s the understatement of the fucking century, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t draw attention to yourself like you did with Mad Dog. I have my mom and sisters at home. I won’t put them at risk.”

“
I made a mistake with Madigan because I thought we could help. I won’t go that route again. Our asses are on the line.” Team Echo’s mistake did not go unpunished. Less than a week after Kandahar, they experienced a
training accident
. Not a single man made it home. While no one had officially threatened Team Fear, the men knew the score. They’d signed up for an off-books experiment that had failed. They were loose ends. “Fuck.”

“
That about sums it up.” Rose tossed his notebook to the floor where it landed amongst the food wrappers. “Hello.” He smacked Ryder’s knee. “I’ve got movement down the driveway, sixty feet and closing.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ryder’s eyes narrowed in focus. “Location?”

“
Your five-o’clock.”

Without turning—movement would draw unwanted attention—he used the side mirror to get a look down the road leading to Debi’s house. In the cracked mirror, all he saw was the long, dirt drive that eventually circled in front of the house and then wrapped back out the other side. From this angle, Ryder couldn’t see anybody. “Wildlife?”

“
Human. Two men, on foot.” Rose’s voice dropped, the sound too low to travel on the wind. He kept his gaze out the back window. “Brazen motherfuckers coming down the main road.”

“
Either they don’t know we’re here or they have backup coming from behind.” Ryder’s earlier nerves settled. Thoughts of Lauren, of anger and retribution faded as his body and mind focused. Intruders beat the hell out of surveillance. “Assume the worst. We could be outnumbered.”

“
If we wanted better odds, we should have joined the Air Force.” Rose stretched his legs, getting ready to move out.

Loose and limber, Ryder relaxed. His shoulders settled. His body was awake, but no adrenaline jacked him up. He was born and bred to be a warrior. He’d been enhanced to do it without the impediment of fear. “You take the back of the house,” he said to Rose. “Make sure no one made is inside. I’ll take these two.”

Rose slid out the door like a shadow, keeping the truck between him and the intruders. Ryder tracked him as he circled the woodpile and out of sight. Ryder pulled a knife from his boot. Once Rose was clear and the men in black had passed—less than ten feet to his right—Ryder exited the driver’s side, using the woodpile as cover to come at the intruders from behind.

The two men moved in tandem with hand signals and stealth, black clothes and silence. Military trained. Better than the meth heads Smythe sent last time. The prick had to have more money than they thought if he could afford such well trained men. Or maybe the lawyer had stepped up to take out the problem. Either way, Craft needed to take a closer look at their financials.

Ryder waited several long moments to make sure another team didn’t follow, and then he loped across the dirt in pursuit. In military mode, everything switched off—worries about Lauren, Smythe, the team—his entire focus became the two men in ski masks. Their eyes were rimmed with black to eliminate the glow of skin. Without training, Rose never would have seen their approach.

A part of Ryder’s mind remained aware of noise and movement on his six, but so far, he didn’t see, hear, or sense another team. The area around them stilled, as if the local wildlife hunkered down, waiting for the hunter to find its prey. The two men in front of him didn’t realize they were on the wrong side of that equation. In his element, Ryder allowed his muscles to loosen as he maneuvered closer.

At the tip of the circular drive, near Debi’s orange VW, the baddies split apart. The taller man edged to the back of the house while the other dropped behind the VW to wait. They were coordinating attacks from front and back, and Ryder had no means to communicate with Rose. He couldn’t risk pulling out his phone to text. The light would screw his night vision and alert the intruders to someone in the area. Ryder had to trust Rose to watch his six.

Tonight, the best Ryder could do was to eliminate the frontal threat before going around to cover Rose. The guy staking out the front of the house had gone dead still next to a low-lying bush, likely waiting for orders to breach the front entrance. These were not gang bangers or local hoods. Silent as the night, Ryder approached with knife in hand. The knife was the backup. He’d rather put the other man in headlock and knock him out before he could alert anyone. They needed to interrogate these men as they had the last group, but something in Ryder’s gut said these two wouldn’t break.

Ryder stalked forward, his heartbeat slow, his hands sure and steady, and his eye on the prize. Seconds before Ryder made contact, the man kicked back.

“
Oomph.” Air whooshed from his lungs as a large boot collided with his gut, sending him sprawling into the dirt. The knife went flying into the yard. Only training had him on his feet before he had time to catch his breath.

The intruder sprang to the offensive, following Ryder and attempting a second kick, but Ryder was ready this time. He countered the move and the two men sparred in front of the ranch house. Hand-to-hand combat was dirty. There were no rules of engagement, no higher ethics involved in beating the crap out of another human being. You fought hard or you died. Those were the rules.

The intruder was a big man, matching Ryder in size and speed. They sparred for several minutes, with neither gaining ground. Only their breath and the smack of flesh beating flesh interrupted the silence. His opponent grunted when Ryder landed a solid right hook, but he didn’t fight the punch. Instead, the other man rolled with the momentum to land back on his feet within seconds. The moves felt familiar, and an uneasy sizzle of warning chilled Ryder’s insides. He shut everything down except the fight, trying to find a weakness in his opponent’s moves. The soldier liked to kick, his size twelves hitting Ryder in the gut more than once.

Ryder took the punishing hits, counting the moves until he found a pattern. When he did, he stepped back as the man kicked, grabbing his leg and twisting. Satisfaction oozed through Ryder as the other man hopped on one foot. Ryder flipped him, and using the leg as a fulcrum, slammed the man’s upper body against the ground. The intruder used the momentum to keep rolling, back on his feet before Ryder could inflict any serious damage, but he favored that leg in a barely perceptible limp. Ryder went after the leg with a vengeance, putting the man in black on the defensive.

From the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Heard Rose shout, the words lost in the fog, but enough to warn him the second man was coming. The two men double-teamed Ryder. He tucked his head and barreled into his first opponent just as the second man launched at Ryder. All three rolled to the ground. Ryder smacked an elbow into somebody’s face. Felt the bone crack.

Quick, before someone could trap him on the ground, Ryder rolled to his feet. Rose ran up, a look of rage in his eyes. A light flicked on the front porch.

“
Fall back,” the second man called. They hightailed it down the driveway.

Ryder held Rose by the arm to keep him from giving chase. He wouldn’t leave Lauren unprotected. There could be more men, another attack planned, and he wouldn’t fail his wife again. He’d done that often enough already.

Debi stepped onto the porch with a shotgun. A strong move, except the light put her in the crosshairs of anyone with a half-decent shot. They raced across the yard. Rose tackled Debi back into the house. Ryder killed the light and shut and bolted the door. In the light, Rose’s face was mottled. Bruises formed around one eye and scrapes marked his cheek. He busted up laughing.

Ryder sat down, hard, on the entry floor trying to catch his breath. When he did, a low chuckle let loose. The deeper and longer Rose laughed, the more Ryder let the laughter wash away the tension. “Did you see those fuckers run?” Rose asked.

“
Lazy bastards.” Ryder sucked in another breath. Already the muscles in his stomach throbbed. He would have a boot-sized bruise on his gut for sure. “They didn’t expect a fight.”

“
What the hell?” Debi stepped between them, the shotgun still in her hands. “Were you two fighting in my front yard?”

“
Not each other.” Ryder explained about the intruders. “No doubt they expected easy pickings.”

“
By easy, you mean me?” Debi gripped the rifle, her knuckles turning white. “Because I’m not easy.”

“
Never said you were, but those two came expecting an easy in-and-out. That means they’ve cased your house before. They knew you and Lauren were here alone. Probably knew the layout of the house and were waiting for the lights to go out.”

Debi leaned against the closet door. Her hands shook on the weapon. “Maybe I should have had something to drink earlier. That’s a lot to take in.”

“
You did good, sweetheart.” Rose removed the shotgun from her hands. He checked, and it had a round in the chamber. “Good girl.”

“
I grew up on the ranch.” The irritated tone hid the tremor in her voice, but couldn’t hide her shaking hands. “Who are you?”

Rose moved the weapon to his left and reached out with his free hand. “Rose.”

“
Really?” Debi shook his hand with a look of doubt on her face. “Honey, there ain’t nothing soft and sweet about you.”

“
Sorry to break up the party, but where’s Lauren?”

“
Sleeping, and I wouldn’t—”

“
I need to make sure she’s secure.” Ryder paused on his way down the hall. “Rose, do a perimeter check and meet me back here in two.”

Rose gave a mock solute before slipping out the door. The floorboards squeaked underfoot as Ryder headed down the hall. He’d had dinner a few times at Debi’s old farmhouse. The building had more creaky floors than a haunted house, but it was still solid. The dark of the hall welcomed him to the guest room. The door was ajar, and Ryder moved in, staying to the shadows at the edge of the room.

Lauren was on top of the blankets, still in yesterday’s clothes, her dark hair like a blot on the pale pillowcase. In sleep, the lines of tension around her mouth and eyes faded, as if they only existed when he was around. Her lips opened as breath moved in and out, her chest lifting. The sight of her screwed with his focus. He didn’t have the resources he needed to protect her; he didn’t have an entire team at his command. Ryder cleared the bathroom, checked the window locks, and even checked under the bed because he was a paranoid bastard. He did a thorough search of the interior, knowing Rose did the same outside.

They reconvened in the living room. Rose flipped a blade in the air, caught it by the handle on the downside. “Lose something?”

Ryder grabbed the knife and sheathed it under his pant leg. “At least my face doesn’t look like ground beef.” It hurt to admit they’d gotten their asses handed to them. “We need equipment. Men.” They needed the damn Army, and good luck getting it.

Debi slipped into the kitchen and measured coffee into an automatic brewer. “Haven’t had this much excitement around here since the barn burned down last year.” She pressed the brew button. “I won’t sleep after that. Want to tell me what happened?”

“
Two men slipped down the drive on foot, one headed for the front, the other the back. Rose, what happened to the guy in back?”

“
Fucker got the best of me.” His face went red. “Sorry, ma’am.”