Redeem My Heart (34 page)

“We’re talking about a man’s life,” Fallon stressed between clenched teeth, gripping Townes’ belt loop a little tighter. Did it make her malicious to want it to be his throat? This was the problem. No one viewed Ryland as a man. They only regarded him a cold-blooded killer and they didn’t care if he’d been indoctrinated into the profession by drugs and manipulation. “This is different and you of all people should understand that.”

“Why is that?” Townes asked, pointing at a beautiful Labrador retriever jumping in the air and catching a Frisbee. This was the most she’d ever heard the man talk and now she was wishing he’d just shut the fuck up. Fallon tensed slightly when she also caught sight of Jax now twenty feet away, waiting at the bench where he’d been instructed to bring Ryland. Only Jax now stood alone, surveying the area. “Because we can pretty much guarantee from what those three agents said that Ryland had nothing to do with Demri’s death? That his memories had been altered? Would you be surprised to hear that I believe that as well? I’m still reserving judgment, but as we’re all taught…identify your target before you shoot.”

“Derrick,” Fallon whispered, seeing the little boy in the arms of a virtual stranger. He wasn’t Grahn and the larger male had already called out that Jax needed to stay where he was. It was probably the hardest thing he had to do in his entire life, seeing his little boy a mere twenty feet away and not being able to go to him. Derrick already had his arms reaching out and his fingers wiggling, crying for his daddy. “We—”

“Will keep walking slowly,” Townes instructed, pointing at something in the opposite direction. Fallon dragged her gaze away for a split second, knowing she needed to maintain her professionalism and not blow their cover. It also gave her time to see if she could spot Ryland. He
was
here. She felt him. “Be ready.”

Townes stopped their advance, although he walked her farther away from where the exchange was attempting to take place. He was pointing toward a hot dog cart where Ethan was stationed selling hot dogs, MP4 suppressed submachine guns, and popcorn. She forced a smile and shook her head, not willing to put that much distance between them and Jax. When Fallon looked up at Townes, she caught sight of Kevin over his shoulders.

“Grahn isn’t here,” Fallon whispered into his ear after standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around Townes’ neck. He was a rather large man, rivaling that of a heavyweight-boxing champion with muscles to match. She missed Ryland’s lean build and tears stung her eyes that she might not ever be held by him again. “But he has to be close by because he wouldn’t have given anyone else the key word or phrase to influence Ryland’s actions.”

“Mr. Christensen, I must apologize for the steps that had to be taken in order to obtain what I needed.” Agent Grahn’s voice came from behind them and Fallon tensed, doing her best not to turn around. “I must say, your supervisor did rather well clearing the majority of the park from innocent citizens. I’m sure whatever listening devices you have on or about your person are picking up my voice, so let me say what I need to say. I have the same, if not more, manpower than what has been assigned here today. There is only one way out of this…and that is to deliver me what I want. Where is
Ryland
?”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

R
yland experienced envy for the first time in his life. He wasn’t talking about the caring kind of envy a man experienced upon seeing his woman smile at another male, but bitter jealousy over his lack of ability to provide a woman what another man could.

Fallon was a beautiful sight, with her glowing smile and sparkling eyes as she stared up into the gaze of Townes Calvert. She had her arms wrapped around his shoulders with her head tipped backed, the snowflakes falling on her flushed cheeks. She gave the appearance of a carefree woman in love, but Ryland knew the truth…and that was the only reason he was able to bring himself in check. It also proved that
Ryland
would always be there, with
Travis
as an evolving moral compass. God help them all if Travis ever truly evaporated into thin air.

“Consider your COD paid in full,” Ryland announced as he tossed the Frisbee one last time, stepping around one of the many granite memorial monuments dotting the landscape of the square and coming up just short from where this so-called meeting was being held. It had been rather easy to take the place of an agent posing as a man with his dog. He prided himself on leaving the agent unconscious in one of the public restrooms, rather than breaking his neck. The man hadn’t exactly been Ryland’s size and the casual grunge clothing were not his style, but he had managed to blend in with the crowd effectively. He could only imagine Crest’s anger at losing Ryland’s location to begin with. Jax was currently standing between him and Grahn, whereas the man holding Derrick was behind him. Ryland ignored Christensen’s anguished stare and maintained eye contact with Grahn instead, bracing himself for anything the agent might say. “I should tell you that the small writing usually found on purchases does come with a warning label. Shall I tell you what it says?”

The shorter man was technically past his retirement age, having risen through the ranks underneath Special Agent Jernigan. His rank was probably the reason he’d been able to fly under the radar, especially his ability to falsify being a dependable contact throughout the years. They’d had one phone conversation where Grahn could have used a key word or phrase, but Ryland had kept it short enough where he’d done all the talking. He didn’t want to think what could have happened had the discussion gone differently.

“You—”

“Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake. Napoléon Bonaparte spoke those words, if I remember correctly.” Ryland ensured Grahn didn’t have a chance to talk for fear of what would occur. Yes, fear. It was foreign to him, yet understandable considering how he valued control. He would give himself a pass this time around. “You see, Agent Grahn, you were a tremendous help to me all of those times I utilized you as a contact back in the day. It was a nice way to keep tabs on my location over the years. Technically, the raid up in the Hamptons should have tipped your hand, but you staged your accident coincidentally to the point we all ruled you out as the potential responsible party for breathing life back into E.D.A. There was one minor slip up you weren’t counting on though.”

Ryland was trusting that Schultz Jessalyn could handle the team which Grahn had previously indicated surrounded the area. The government was set up in such a convoluted way that Grahn had been able to funnel orders and directives to special ops teams who were well-trained and followed orders from a senior ranking duly authorized agency official. Schultz had no doubt contacted any and all groups associated with Grahn and ensured they had new orders, reliant on the fact that he would have had enough time. It was pure speculation on Ryland’s part, but Jessalyn appeared rather efficient at his job. That did not mean there weren’t still men and women outside of the Agency’s direct chain of command that Grahn had employed on countless occasions—paramilitary operations employing advanced combat operations. In all likelihood, there were still individuals following the agent’s orders based off of the greed inherent to ruthless mercenaries and those were the ones that needed dealt with immediately.

“I’m aware my identity has been compromised, son,” Grahn said with an intentional familiarity that was designed to grate on Ryland’s conscious. He gave a knowing smile, which didn’t bode well and had all of the agents drawing their weapons. Grahn’s men—those who were independent contractors—stepped out onto the perimeter. Where was Jessalyn? “That no longer matters. I have no need for the sanctuary of the Agency. It has taken me years to build E.D.A. back up to what it once was and I do not intend for it to end here. Other subjects are currently in training, replacing those I lost. You didn’t think you and the other three were the only ones, did you? There is still so much work to be done in order for the United States of America to remain a world power.
I
am that vessel and
I
will do what is necessary for our republic to stay the course. What is your name, son?”

The blinding pain almost crumbled Ryland’s knees. It was excruciating to the point he was afraid he would black out, but it was the sound of Fallon’s voice calling his name that brought him through the flashing lights and back to the present. He gritted his teeth and fought back, refusing to be anyone’s pawn. He owned his soul, as black as it may be. The key phrase hadn’t been enough to trigger the conditioning.

“Do you really believe that the Bureau, the Agency, or NSA are going to allow me to leave this park?” Ryland inquired through the receding pain, ignoring Fallon’s movement out his peripheral vision. Townes would ensure she stayed by his side until this was over. “You made multiple mistakes, Grahn. One was counting on your perfect specimen to still function after all these years. You’re a little too late. Another was thinking that you could trade an innocent life for that of a killer. I applaud your effort. I really do, but our government does what it has to in order to protect our country from rogue agents like you who somehow believe they know what is best for America. I am nothing. I am no one. I am expendable.”

“Daddy!”

Jax shifted his stance but then stilled his motions upon a gesture from Grahn. The agent was shaking his head and tsking, all the while wagging his finger in gesture. It was then that Ryland realized Grahn’s intention. He would continue to hold Derrick hostage until Ryland was safely absconded to a secure facility, where another regimen would be implemented. This time, it wouldn’t take nearly as long to condition him considering the groundwork had already been laid out. Jax wasn’t going to go home with his son tonight if Ryland didn’t act.

“Grahn, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Ryland stated in a raconteur manner, needing the agent’s attention while he slowly turned and walked to where the man stood holding Derrick. The small boy was staring at his father with a tear-streaked face, his hands stretched out for a security Ryland had never known. He ran a hand over Derrick’s dark blond hair in reassurance, whereas Jax pressed his fist to his mouth in desperation. He would never believe it wasn’t Ryland’s intention to hurt the child, so he didn’t bother with a comforting glance. Instead, he met Grahn’s wary gaze now that his phrase hadn’t succeeded. “Your country has no need for your services any longer.”

Ryland drew the knife from the sheath attached to his belt and he didn’t hesitate to lodge it in the base of the man’s skull. The target slowly fell to the ground, but not before Ryland was able to secure the little boy in his arms. As predicted, it was the precursor to massive amounts of gunfire and general chaos. He pulled Derrick to the ground, ensuring the child didn’t get hurt when the exchange of fire between the two sides exploded all around them. It would all end now, but Travis Bowers was at long last in peace.

*   *   *   *

Fallon watched everything unfold in horror, doing her best to remove her arm from Townes’ firm grip. It was evident when Grahn had used a phrase to attempt to control Ryland, but he had fought through it and came out the other side. Despite the pain, he’d managed to keep talking and hold off the inevitable for as long as possible. The moment he drove a knife into the brainstem of the man who’d been holding Derrick…all hell broke loose.

No one had time to call out a warning. Fallon’s number one priority was to protect Ryland and Derrick, so she didn’t hesitate. She started firing at the targets advancing from the left, slowly and calculatingly advancing until she was positioned properly. Townes, Ethan, and Taryn were currently taking care of those from the right side. Fallon didn’t take her eyes off of her marks, so she had no idea what was happening behind her.

Several men were down to her direct front. Two weren’t moving any longer and one was wallowing in pain, holding his neck as blood shot sideways out of an obvious arterial wound. Men in blue FBI jackets were converging from the outer perimeter. Behind them, men who appeared to be armed bikers dressed in leathers were directing bystanders away from the square.