If I Should Die

THIRTY-FIVE

In the lights of the emergency vehicles, Sean saw his Cessna upside down in the middle of a small field. His heart tightened so fast he thought a heart attack couldn’t be more painful. He jumped out of the truck and trudged across the field, barely registering that Patrick was behind him. Patrick was Lucy’s brother and loved her as much as Sean did.

But he couldn’t. No one loved Lucy like Sean. She was not dead. There had been no explosion, no fire, just the downed plane. She was unconscious maybe. Injured. But alive. She had to be alive.

“Hold it!” the fire chief called. Sean ignored him.

The pilot’s door was open, the cabin empty. A temporary feeling of relief washed over him, immediately replaced by fear that they’d been thrown out on impact.

“Stop!” the chief called.

Sean told Patrick, “There’s no one inside.”

Patrick smoothed things over with the chief. “I’m Patrick Kincaid; that’s Sean Rogan. It’s his plane. My sister was inside.”

“I’m sorry, you still can’t be here.”

“The pilot is a federal agent.”

The chief frowned. “This is still a crash site.”

While Patrick diplomatically argued with the fire chief to buy time, Sean walked around to the back of the plane. The plane had cut a deep path in the field. He saw the boulder it hit that caused it to flip over. But he didn’t see a body. The rudder was completely broken off the tail from the crash, and he distinctly saw two bullet holes in the rear body of the plane.

Patrick approached. “I bought you two minutes. Noah and Lucy aren’t here. They’re okay.” Patrick was trying to convince both of them.

“The plane was shot down.” Sean pointed to the holes.

Then he noticed that the small external storage compartment was open. His duffel bag was missing.

“They’re in trouble,” Sean said, “otherwise they wouldn’t have left.”

He bent over to inspect the cockpit and spotted the thermal imaging camera. He didn’t know if it had survived the crash, but he grabbed it.

“Let’s go find them,” Sean said to Patrick.

The chief called after them and Patrick turned around to hand him their business cards. “That’s how to reach us. I’m sorry, we have to go.”

Patrick drove while Sean checked the camera for damage. The case had protected it, in addition to the fact that this was one of the best-made, sturdiest devices Sean had ever worked with. He turned it on. The camera stored thirty images on its chip, and Lucy had taken six pictures that clearly showed evidence of marijuana greenhouses. The camera also marked their exact longitude and latitude.

“Paul Swain didn’t lie to me. There are four warehouses.”

“Four? Do you know how much pot you can grow in just one?”

“Oh, yeah, this is major. And this is just first pass. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more. There has to be a lot at stake for Bobbie Swain to return to town. Or she’s just a psycho bitch.”

Sean’s cell vibrated. He looked down, hoping it was Noah or Lucy, but instead it was a code that told him someone was pinging his radio frequency. He switched his phone to radio and said, “Rogan here.”

“It’s Noah. Your plane was shot down but we’re both okay. Can you track this signal?”

“Yes.” He started typing on his laptop to run GPS, which he had in almost all his equipment. He directed Patrick to follow the signal to Noah’s location. “Right at the main road.”

“We’re holed up in someone’s house. They’re not home, but the bad guys who shot our plane sent dogs after us and we can still hear them. I don’t know how long I can hold them back.”

Patrick turned on the highway and floored the gas.

“I have you. Five minutes. Keep the line open. How’s Lucy?”

“Bumps and bruises, nothing broken but a little skin.” He paused. “I’m sorry about your plane.”

“I can replace the damn plane.” He paused. “But if you even think about borrowing my Mustang, think again.”

Sean heard Lucy laugh in the background and a weight lifted off his chest. She was alive, she was fine.

Patrick turned right on an unpaved road, following the GPS guide. Sean wished he knew the area better, because he could find a shortcut. But he couldn’t risk it in the dark.

Over the radio, he heard dogs.

“Noah?”

There were shouts, and Sean heard Noah order Lucy to cover the rear. Someone was pounding on the door.

The two of them couldn’t secure the house alone.

Noah shouted to make sure Sean could hear, “Four dogs and four or five suspects.”

Sean checked his.45, then reached under the seat and grabbed his bag. Extra clips and a knife. He put the knife in his sock and pocketed the clips. “You ready?” he asked Patrick.

Patrick nodded.

They saw the lights from an ATV and a raised four-wheel-drive truck illuminating the house. Patrick turned off his lights and they rolled in silently, stopping to the side of the long driveway.

They both jumped out and ran along the edge of the property, behind a fenced chicken yard. Two of the suspects were behind the door of the truck, guns drawn, only a few yards from the house. One man stood behind the truck and controlled the dogs. Two more went around back. Sean held up his hand showing five fingers. Patrick confirmed the count.

“Dogs,” Sean motioned to Patrick.

Patrick assessed the animals. “They’re search dogs, not attack dogs.”

“They look vicious to me.”

“I’m pretty certain.”

“You’d better be.”

The dog handler had his work cut out for him, so he wasn’t an immediate threat. Sean quickly assessed the area. There were no fences surrounding the property. “I have an idea.” He motioned toward his truck. “Drive dark behind this chicken coop to the back of the house. I’ll go on foot. On my signal, turn on the brights and that should buy us a minute. We’ll disarm those in the rear and get Noah and Lucy out that way.”

Patrick agreed, and Sean watched him move the truck into position before he ran low to the ground.

One of the suspects was about to kick in the door. Gunfire erupted at the front of the house, which startled him. Sean gave Patrick the signal and instantly, the back of the house was flooded with bright lights. Sean fired at each suspects’ gun hand, disabling both men. He motioned for Patrick to disarm the two while he called, “Lucy! It’s Sean!”

The door opened and Sean was relieved to see Lucy emerge. But he didn’t have time for a reunion. “Patrick’s grabbing their weapons. Get in the truck.”

The gunfire stopped. Sean ran into the house and saw Noah behind a table he’d turned on its side. Noah took aim, but instantly saw it was Sean and tilted his gun down. “Out back,” Sean said. “I’ll cover.”

Staying low to the ground, Noah ran past Sean while Sean fired four rounds out the front window that had already been broken by the earlier gunfire. As soon as Noah was clear, Sean followed him out the back.

He was punched from behind as soon as he was about to exit. A gun was pressed into his head and his.45 was taken from his hand.

“Sean Rogan. My boss wants to see you. Come quietly, and she won’t kill Henry and Emily. You remember them, right? You visited them yesterday. He said he didn’t talk to you, but who do we believe?”

From the corner of his eye, he recognized the blond guy Bobbie had been talking to at the bar on Friday night. Ian.

“I should tell you, if I don’t return with you or your girlfriend, Bobbie will kill the old farts slowly. She enjoys it. Come with me, and she’ll shoot them in the head so they won’t feel a thing.”

Sean gauged the seriousness of the threat. He didn’t know where Bobbie was staying, and they didn’t have time to track her down. And after seeing what they did to Deputy Weddle, he knew they’d do the same to the Callahans.

“Sean! Come now!” It was Noah.

“I can shoot that guy, too. He’s kind of bossy.”

“I’ll go,” Sean said.

“Out the front. We don’t need your friends getting trigger happy.”

Ian snapped handcuffs around his wrists and Sean felt a surge of rage. He hated being cuffed, but went willingly. Ian pushed him to one of the trucks and into the backseat.

Sean recognized the guy sitting in the passenger seat. It wasn’t hard; he was the only black man he’d seen in Spruce Lake.

“Go get the others,” Ian told him. “Dead or alive. I’ll wait here.”

Sean fought against his cuffs. He may have just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Lucy helped Patrick secure the two men who Sean had shot in the hand. Both were bleeding, but neither injury was life-threatening.

“Noah, Sean hasn’t come back out.”

Noah went back inside the house. Something didn’t feel right. Someone was watching her.

She reached for her gun at the same time she whirled around and faced a tall man with a gun pointed at her head.

“Frank!” a voice shouted from the corner of the house.

The man turned, taking his eyes off Lucy, and she dove toward the truck. A gun fired and Lucy almost thought she’d been hit, but she felt no pain.

Noah ran out of the house. His gun was aimed at a black man with a rifle. “Omar Lewis.”

“Well shit, just go blow my cover after I saved the girl’s life.”

“Where’s Sean?” Noah demanded.

“Bobbie wants him. She doesn’t want you.”

Omar fired his gun twice, into the side of the house next to the heads of two men who were tied up. “Don’t say a word,” he told them, “or I will kill you.”

“What the hell did you do that for?” Noah said, not taking his gun off Omar.

“Keep it down,” Omar said, his voice a low growl. “I have to leave the impression with the others that you and the girl are dead. If I bring you to Bobbie, she’s going to only keep one of you alive. Trust me.”

Lucy fumed. “Trust you? After you shot at us at the mine?”

“We’ll chat later, sugar,” Omar said.

Patrick also had his gun on Omar with one hand, and with his other helped Lucy up from where she’d dove away from Frank. She said, “There’s four of us, we’ll find a way to end this now. Noah-”

Omar interrupted. “I finally have Bobbie Swain Molina in the palm of my hand with Sherwood Lowell almost within reach and y’all come in and fuck it up. Do you know how long I’ve been setting up this sting? Tomorrow the biggest gunrunner in the U.S. would have been here, but I’m sure even Bobbie can’t keep a lid on all this shit. Now I’m going to lose him, and have that bitch to deal with. Stay here until I’m clear. Meet me at the Lock amp; Barrel at midnight and I’ll tell you where your man is.”

“You have to tell him we’re alive!” Lucy said.

Omar shrugged and slipped back around to the front.

Lucy almost ran after him, but Noah grabbed her and held her tightly around the waist. “Lucy. We’ll find him.” He turned her around to face him and gripped her firmly by the shoulders. “If anyone can get out from between a rock and a hard place, it’s Sean.”

She said, “But if he thinks we’re all dead, he’ll be reckless.” She prayed Omar did the right thing.

Sean listened to the two men-Ian and Omar-but all he could think about was Lucy, dead.

“Where’s Frank?” Ian asked as they drove away.

“The girl got the drop on him.”

“I didn’t like him anyway.”

“Any word from the other team?”

“They’re waiting for the kid to show.”

Sean pulled at his handcuffs, rage fueling him. A primal cry escaped from deep in his chest and Ian glanced in the back with a smirk. “Don’t hurt yourself, now.”

“I’m. Going. To. Kill. You.” Sean’s breath came hard and fast and his vision clouded.

I’m sorry, Lucy. Oh, God, no.

His chest tightened to the point of physical pain, but he didn’t care. Lucy was dead. He couldn’t see her, hold her, kiss her good-bye. Just one last kiss.

Unshed tears burned his eyes and something deep inside twisted so tight that he felt broken. Paul Swain’s words came back to him, in a haunting tone.

Vengeance is mine.

How could Sean live without her? It would be no life. If he got out of this alive, he would kill Ian and Omar and Bobbie Swain. He’d shoot them or choke them, but either way they’d be dead.

“Everything’s working just fine now,” Omar said from the passenger seat.

Ian disagreed. “Everything is fucked up, she’s not going to be happy. Word is Lowell is backing down.”

“That sucks, but maybe we can resolve it.”

Ian laughed humorlessly. “He’ll never work with her again. She’s going to take out her anger on someone. Better him than me.” Ian glanced in the rearview mirror.

Sean kicked the bench seat in front of him, over and over, the pain and anger still building inside until he thought he would explode, and still it grew.

Omar laughed. “Look, Ian, he’s all choked up. Sorry, Romeo, it’s not personal. But man, was your Juliet one fine lady.”

Sean threw his body against the seat in front of him, not coming up with a plan, just reacting out of raw rage. Omar smacked him hard and Sean fell on the backseat, biting his lip to keep from screaming.

But his mind worked separate from his emotions. He repeated Omar’s words over and over until he realized exactly what they meant.

Romeo thought Juliet was dead, but she wasn’t.

Pushing the grief and anger aside, Sean focused on coming up with a plan. His emotions were still on overload, but he mentally repeated that Lucy was alive. He had to focus on his current situation, listen carefully, and take advantage of any opportunity.

He knew he didn’t have a lot of time.