Chapter 9
Food was a hurried affair. Now with the four prisoners safely stowed on the far side of the room, everyone grabbed sandwiches and bowls of salads, whether green or potato or both. When Ice surveyed the meal, she nodded and said, “Good, I’m glad you found the food.”
Kasha turned to look at her. “You brought food with you?”
She nodded. “Somewhere around here is another box.” She turned around and spotted it stacked against the back wall. She flipped open the lid and chuckled. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you guys know this is here.”
Bullard took one look and gave a big whoop. He grabbed the box and brought it back to the table. Between the two of them, they unloaded muffins and a large chocolate cake, several loaves of bread and large chunks of wrapped up cheese and what appeared to be the bulk of a cooked roast beef in a small cooler.
Ice shook her head. “This is just what Alfred managed to pull together at a moment’s notice.”
Kasha walked over, her jaw dropping. “I wish I’d realized this was all here.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll eat all the sandwiches and all this too,” Ice said. Within minutes, she had the roast beef sliced, along with the bread. Kasha looked back to see all the ham sandwiches were gone. She frowned. “Surely we didn’t eat that many already.”
Brandon returned then. “We just did a shift change,” he announced. He accepted a plate of sandwiches Kasha had held back for him. “This looks great.” His gaze landed on the chocolate cake, and he grinned. “I guess I got lucky with my shift change.”
“You’re a smart man,” Bullard said. He snatched the knife away from Ice and proceeded to cut the triple layer chocolate cake. He stopped for a moment, frowned, glanced around and then said, “I guess I should share, huh?”
Ice snickered. “Yeah, you should. Levi won’t take it kindly if you eat it all.”
“But he has Alfred. Nobody makes chocolate cake like him.”
“And what about Dave?”
Just then Levi walked in. His eyes lit up at the cake on the table, and he put a piece on his plate along with slabs of cheese and roast beef. He walked to the end of the table and sat down. He never said a word but plowed through the food with an impressive efficiency. By the time everybody had eaten, with Ice snagging pieces of the cake for the men up on the rooftop, not a whole lot of food was left.
“How’s the coffee situation?” Levi asked.
“I brought a couple packs of beans with me,” Bullard said. He frowned and looked around the kitchen. “But I’ll be damned if I know where they are.”
Brandon and Kasha both got up and searched. Brandon found the beans, tossed them on the counter and said, “Do we have a grinder?”
Kasha knew where that was. Within minutes, they had a large pot brewing. As she studied the amount of coffee and the number of people, she realized they’d have to put on a couple pots just for everyone to get a cup. Still, this was a window into a lifestyle she hadn’t expected. It was fun. Everyone working together brought a lot of camaraderie.
One could learn so much about men sharing a meal. They all looked after themselves but made sure nobody else went short. She sat down, fatigue running through her, wondering how long these guys could keep going like this. Brandon looked over at her, his gaze sharp. “Looks like you need four hours downtime.”
She snorted. “I’ll be lucky if I get two.”
“Two it is though,” Bullard said, his tone hard. “You need to go crash right now.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t,” Brandon snapped. “That’s when you make mistakes.”
She glared at him. “Who died and made you boss?”
He brought his face forward to hers and said, “If you don’t look after yourself, somebody else has to force you to.”
Instead of backing down, she thrust her face so it was almost touching his. “You’re not doing that. I can look after myself.”
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”
She narrowed her gaze, hating that he could see something she hadn’t wanted anybody to know. Bullard’s voice cut the silence. “Brandon’s right, Kasha.”
She spun and looked at him. “I’m fine,” she repeated.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re fine,” Brandon said. “If you’re part of a team, it’s also how much energy you have to help out the others. Go take some downtime. When you come back, you’ll be fresher and more help.”
She didn’t want to give in so easily but also knew part of the reason she was so punchy was she was tired. Without a word, she stood and left.
Brandon glanced over at Bullard and said, “Where will she crash?”
Bullard shrugged. “There are bedrooms upstairs. We all just grabbed one. So far I have been sleeping on the goddamn stretcher.”
Brandon frowned. “I don’t like the idea of her being up there alone.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that. She’s a good fighter.”
“I know that. I saw her in action. But, when she’s asleep, she’s defenseless. That’s not cool for any of us right now.”
Ice stood and said, “I could use some shut-eye myself. I’ll go up with her.”
*
Still with misgivings, Brandon watched the two women leave. He glanced at Levi to see him contemplating their actions too. He looked over at Brandon and said, “Two hours each?”
Brandon nodded. “Done. I’ll take first watch.” He stood, grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin, and, after waiting for what he considered enough time to avoid being seen by Kasha or Ice, headed upstairs. When he followed the women’s voices to find which bedroom they were in, he sat down in the hall outside. He’d be damned if he’d let anything happen to them now. They’d had just enough intruders in this massive place that made it all too likely that somebody else could still be hiding inside. And, with all the drama, no more security cameras had been emplaced. The last thing Brandon wanted was to be caught unaware.
Ten minutes into his vigil, he heard a noise at the end of the hallway. He stood and snuck around the corner of the stone entranceway to the bedroom. All the doors were set back from the hallway, so, when closed, it gave him just barely enough space to hide. It didn’t allow him a chance to look, not without peering around and showing himself. He waited, and, sure enough, he now heard footsteps.
Was it his people or someone else? The person crept closer. Just by that fact alone Brandon realized it had to be an intruder. Brandon waited. The only reason he would be coming here was if he had some idea the women were here too. Brandon waited.
He tensed his muscles and locked down, hardly breathing, his chest rising in slow controlled movements so he could let air out silently. He listened as the intruder approached. Then the intruder stopped. Brandon smiled as the barrel end of a rifle appeared.
Without hesitation Brandon grabbed the rifle, flipped the butt and hit the intruder hard in the face. The man went down and tried to get up, but the business end of the rifle was already on his throat.
Brandon said, “Oh, no, you don’t. Stay right where you are.” When the man made a move, Brandon shoved the weapon harder under his jaw. The man stilled.
The door behind him opened. Ice stepped out and asked, “You got him?”
“Yes. Have you got something to secure him?”
She disappeared and came back a moment later with zip ties. With Brandon holding the gunman still, she bound his hands and his feet behind him. Then she pulled out her phone and called Levi. She looked at Brandon and said, “Kasha is still asleep. If you’re good here, I’ll head back in and try to catch some more shut-eye.”
She turned and walked back into the bedroom. He hadn’t even had a chance to answer her question. So he assumed she already knew he was fine. Levi arrived minutes later. “Where did he come from?”
Brandon pointed. “I heard a noise down there.”
Levi took off in that direction. Brandon cut the ties then hauled the gunman to his feet and waited for Levi to return. When he didn’t come back immediately, Brandon worried there might have been a second intruder. But then Levi returned, checking every room and door. As he approached, he said, “This place is a mausoleum. It could hide a full army.”
Brandon nodded. “That’s half the problem.”
Between them, they took the intruder downstairs, so Bullard could see he had yet another asshole in his house. Bullard took one look at his face, shook his head and said, “Tie him up with the others.”
When the other four prisoners saw the newest arrival, their faces fell.
Brandon snickered. “Did you think he would mount a rescue and get you guys out of here?” He shook his head. “Not happening.”
One of the men spewed out a language which Brandon didn’t understand. He ignored it and proceeded to set the most recent captive on a chair. He tied him up far enough away from the others that they couldn’t help each other get free. Then he sat down on another chair with the rifle across his knees. The newest prisoner just kept yelling and screaming.
Bullard came in with a cup of coffee and responded in the same language.
Brandon looked at Bullard with renewed respect. Some of these languages were deadly hard to learn. Then again Bullard had been living in Africa for a good decade. Maybe languages were easy for him. They weren’t for Brandon. He could handle English, and that was about it. But many of his teammates spoke multiple languages. It was always an asset.
When Bullard fell silent, Brandon asked, “And?”
“They’re after the weapons. The delivery wasn’t made this morning as planned, so they’re in trouble because they’ve been paid for those weapons. They need to get the shipment out of here and into the other guy’s hands. Otherwise they’ll be killed.”
Brandon winced. “Sucks to be them then, doesn’t it?”
Bullard nodded. He glanced at Levi, and Brandon realized Levi had been listening in on the whole thing. Brandon rose, walking with Bullard to join Levi at the doorway. The prisoners could understand English all too well.
Brandon whispered, “Can we use that information?”
“Yes, and we need to,” Levi said. “It still might not save their lives. If they’ve taken money and not delivered the goods, … well, some people have a very long memory.”
“Unless we can pick up the buyers,” Brandon said quietly. Not that he had any interest in saving these men’s lives. They were gunrunners. Risks were involved. Brandon also understood that life here was hard. People did whatever they could to make a living. At the same time, they didn’t have to come after everyone in Bullard’s holding.
“They also said,” Bullard continued, “the new delivery date is now Tuesday, supposedly first thing tomorrow morning. And, if they don’t get there with the weapons this time, the buyers will raze the village.”
“Now that I believe,” Brandon said. He frowned at Bullard. “Not sure what you’ve got in mind, but, if you’re ready to make peace with the innocent villagers, this could be a way to turn this around, so they look up to you and won’t steal from you and will effectively be your loyal spies in the area.”
Bullard turned that hard gaze on Brandon. “Explain.”
Brandon cast a questioning glance at Levi, and, seeing his nod, he returned his attention to Bullard. “It’s easy. Even though the exchange is set for tomorrow, you know the buyers are already in the area. After all, they were supposed to get their weapons this morning to begin with. For the sake of this deal and for the innocent villagers’ lives, we set a trap, and, when the men come to raze the village or we flush them out—whichever comes first—we take them out. The weapons don’t get into their hands. The villagers aren’t killed for being innocent bystanders.”
Bullard seemed to toss the ideas around in his head. Finally he nodded and said, “I like it.” He glanced over at Brandon and said, “Set it up.” Then he turned and left.
Brandon looked at Levi and said, “What?”
“Now you did it,” Levi said, chuckling. “Time to step up, Brandon. Bullard has high standards.” He took off after Bullard, whistling lightly in the air.
Inside Brandon swore. Now what the hell had he gotten himself into?
Yet he had to admit this was something he was good at. He sat down to make plans at the kitchen table, facing his prisoners, the rifle atop the table. Even though Brandon had limited money and limited men, he had lots of weapons. He’d take those odds any day.