Chapter Forty
Kirk
No one speaks for a few minutes. We've learned a great deal of information and have heard many potential strategies, yet he we still dinnae have a well-defined game plan for rescuing Kenny and ending Dougal MacWraith's despotic empire.
How many lives has the bastard destroyed?
Only recently did I get an inkling of how terrible and vast the MacWraith dynasty has been.
And it's time to end that reign permanently.
I stand up, meeting the gaze of each person in this room one by one.
"Bringing me and Gretchen to Dùndubhan seemed like the right thing at the time.
But I've realized the true threat lies not here in this castle but out there in Dougal's territory.
Kidnapping, prostitution, gambling, intimidation, counterfeiting bank notes, and illicit goods of all sorts.
That has been Dougal MacWraith's empire. "
When I glance at Gretchen, the lass gives me a sweet smile and a thumbs-up sign. No matter what MacWraith might do, I will always have Gretchen on my side---and she will always have me.
"Well, Kirk," Gretchen says. "Tell us your plan."
"How did ye know I had one?"
"By the look in your eye, sweetie. I know you, Kirk Balfour, like I've never known anyone. I trust you all the way. And I suspect your plan revolves around taking down Dougal's sordid entire empire."
"You're spot on as usual, gràidh."
Logan pushes away from the wall, approaching me and Gretchen. "That's precisely the strategy I had in mind too. Your lass is very clever, Balfour."
"Aye, she certainly is." I raise Gretchen's hand to my lips and kiss it. "You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever known."
Rab stands up, rolling his eyes at me. "If yer done complimenting the lass, maybe we should, oh, maybe flesh out our master plan?"
I scan my gaze over everyone, then Gretchen and I rise. "Let's head back to the village. We'll find more of our mates there and once we've assembled our team, it'll be time to rescue Kenny and destroy Dougal."
As we file out of the sitting room, I begin to form ideas of my own that will dovetail with whatever my mates decide to do. The MacWraith dynasty won't exist for much longer. I'll make certain of that.
On the drive back to the village, I keep going over what needs to happen. The MacWraith clan has been a cancer in the Highlands for too long. It's time to eradicate them.
Gretchen sits beside me, quiet but alert. Her fingers tap a rhythm on her knee, a clear sign she's deep in thought.
"What are ye thinking about, m'eudail?" I ask, keeping my eyes on the winding road.
"Oh, nothing much. Just reminiscing about how I went from being a virtual assistant to planning a takedown of a Scottish crime lord. Life can take bizarre turns."
"Aye, that it does."
Logan's vehicle follows close behind us, with Rab and Archie riding with him. We've decided to split up. Safety in numbers is all well and good, but not when you're all crammed into one vehicle. The two-car convoy gives us flexibility if we need to split off.
Gretchen settles deeper into her seat. "What exactly are we going to do when we get to the village? Round up a posse like in those old American westerns?"
I cast her a quick glance and can't help but grin at the image. "Something like that. My brothers will be there. Tam has contacts with some of the local lads who've had run-ins with Dougal's men before. They'll be eager to help."
Naturally, we dinnae go back to my flat.
Dougal has undoubtedly installed more spy devices since our last encounter.
I suggest to Gretchen that we should see if we can stay at the home of Domhnall and Fiona Sterling.
Fiona was a MacTaggart until she married Domhnall.
The couple happily offers us a place to stay.
Over dinner and whisky, Domhnall regales Gretchen with tales of his time in the military as an RAF pilot.
His tales enthrall her as he shares the story of how he was shot down in Afghanistan.
Domhnall suffered spinal trauma caused by ejecting from a Typhoon jet.
Even with those injuries he managed to carry his copilot on his back and walked all the way back to his base.
Naturally, Gretchen cannae resist grilling him---sweetly, of course. "Domhnall, do you have lots of friends who are former military?"
"Aye, several. That includes Logan MacTaggart, Gavin Douglas, Magnus MacTaggart, Munro MacTaggart, and Thane Buchanan." He takes a sip of whisky. "Gavin is an American, but he's married to Jamie, one of the sweetest lasses you'll meet."
I wink. "Aside from Gretchen, that is."
The next morning, I receive a text from Domhnall. It says: First strategy session begins in twenty-three minutes. Be there. Both of you.
We obey Domhnall Sterling's directive.
At the precise time Domhnall had given us, we knock on the front door of the home where Thane and Rebecca Buchanan live. It's on the outskirts of the Loch Fairbairn. The couple share their mini ranch with several "critters" as Gretchen calls them.
The door bursts open, and Thane himself greets us.
"Glad yer here, Kirk, Gretchen." The whisky maker himself greets us. "The gang is all here, as my wife would say."
We follow Thane into the house, where it truly seems like every member of our team has gathered, ready to begin plotting the ruination of Dougal MacWraith's empire. And I introduce Gretchen to a special member of our team, Keltie Ralston, another mate who's former military.
Keltie greets Gretchen with a firm handshake. "Good to meet you, Gretchen. So, you're the lass who's got our Kirk all tied up in knots."
"It's nice to meet you too," Gretchen replies. She notices the tactical vest and utility belt Keltie wears with casual confidence. "Are we going to need gear like that?"
"Possibly." Keltie pats Gretchen's arm. "Dinnae fash. That means don't worry."
I survey the room, amazed by the caliber of people who've answered my call.
My brothers Tam and Neil stand by the fireplace, deep in conversation with Logan.
Archie has set up a makeshift command center on the dining table, and his fingers are already flying across three different laptops.
Rab is cleaning a wicked-looking knife while chatting with Munro MacTaggart.
"Quite the gathering," I whisper to Gretchen.
"You weren't kidding about rounding up a posse. Are they all former military?"
"Most, but not all," I explain quietly. "But every last one of them has a personal stake in taking Dougal down."
Thane clears his throat, and the room falls silent.
He stands at the head of the table, quietly commanding attention without even trying, a trait I've always admired about the man.
"Right, let's get down to business. We all know why we're here.
Dougal MacWraith has been a blight on our Highlands for too long.
He's taken Kenny, and that's the last straw. "
Murmurs of agreement ripple through the room. Gretchen slips her hand into mine, her fingers squeezing gently, but she remains silent for now.
"Kirk," Thane begins, turning to face me directly, "you have got the most personal stake in this. What's your thinking?"
All eyes in the room turn to me, and I straighten my shoulders. This is it, the moment we've been building toward since Kenny was taken. I step forward, still holding Gretchen's hand. "You will all play a part in this massive operation. Let's get down to the details..."
For the next three hours, we hammer out all the options and plot various scenarios.
Once we've come to a mutual agreement on the parameters, it's time for the test runs.
We dinnae want to do that here at Thane's home since Dougal might have secret cameras, or his men might be listening in with who-knows-what type of undetectable spying devices.
Keltie reveals what her part in this adventure will entail.
I cannae deny she's very clever, not to mention brave.
The rest of our gang explain what they'll do, and I'm equally impressed by them.
Even some of the lasses who aren't former military will take part in the mission.
It almost feels like an episode of that old television program The A-Team.
Of course I know that program. I am a stunt man, after all.
And that brings us to my assignment.
I hook one finger under Gretchen's chin, encouraging her to look at me. "You've heard what part I will play in this operation. How do you feel about that?"
She sits in the chair beside me, wringing her hands. "I can't claim I'm one hundred percent okay with this. But I know it needs to be done, and I'll meticulously follow whatever instructions you give me."
I kiss her hand. "You are wonderful, gràidh."
Gretchen clasps my hand more firmly, and when she speaks, her tone is more serious than I've ever known her to be. "I'm all in on this mission, and I'll follow my instructions. But I can't honestly say I'm gung-ho about it."
"That's understandable. Just remember, everyone here knows precisely what they're doing and how to do it---and so do you."
"I get it, and I'm ready." She grasps my face, pulling me close enough that our noses touch. "But listen to me, Kirk. If you die, I will hunt you down in the afterlife and haunt you for the rest of eternity."
She is the most extraordinary lass in the world. And I mean to stay alive so we can have several children and many grandchildren. I'll need to marry her first, but it will be my honor to take her as my wife.
I drag her into me and crush my mouth to hers. Then I nuzzle her cheek. "Ahm coming back for ye. Remember, 's e Albannaich a th' annainn!"
My mates jump up as one and shout in English, "We are Scots!"