Chapter 33
The brisk fall wind did nothing to cool Wyatt’s anger. Less than an hour after his Delta Force team arrived, the truck full of Reeds drove up.
As he stared at the people who had made Callie’s life a living hell, he wanted to release his pent-up fury on them. With his fists.
“You should let me ta—” Owen began.
But Wyatt was already walking from the barn. He knew this for exactly what it was—a diversion. No doubt there were more Reeds as well as Saints and Ahmadi’s men already on the property.
The truck slid to a halt as men jumped from the bed and cab of the truck. Front and center was Melvin Reed. Wyatt glared at him. There was no need to hide his hate now. The Reeds had shown their true colors long ago, but now, they were waving those colors for all to see.
And Wyatt was more than ready to tear them down.
“We’ve come for Callie,” Melvin said.
There was a crackle before Callie’s voice came through his COM. “I’m on my way.”
“Owen,” Wyatt whispered. He knew his brother would make sure Callie never made it out of the base. He then raised his voice for Melvin. “This is your last chance. Go home.”
“Or what?” an older Reed asked insolently.
Wyatt took a deep breath and released it as calm came over him. It was always the same right before an attack. “You die.”
There was a second of silence before they began to laugh. All but Melvin. He pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Wyatt’s head.
Wyatt held out his arms. “Shoot,” he dared Melvin.
“Stop!” Callie shouted in his ear. “Wyatt? Do you hear me? Stop this! You can’t let him shoot you! Wyatt!”
He focused on Melvin, drowning out Callie’s voice. The young Reed was overconfident, and he was holding the gun in the hand that Wyatt had nearly broken. The longer Melvin held the weapon, the more his hand began to shake.
It was slight at first, just a tremor. The fact that Wyatt didn’t look at the gun, but instead stared at Melvin, unsettled the unseasoned thug.
“They’re mine,” Wyatt whispered.
Maks’s voice came through the COM. “You sure? Because I could take out three right now. The stupid sons of bitches are lined up right in a row. One shot, Wyatt. One shot and three dead.”
“Mine,” he repeated.
Melvin lifted a brow. “Mine? What the fuck does that mean?”
“I’m telling the others that I’m going to kill all ten of you.”
The Reeds laughed, but it wasn’t as boisterous. And it held a thread of fear.
Wyatt dropped his arms as he counted the weapons the Reeds held. Ten men with five rifles, three pistols, and two machetes. He’d faced harsher odds.
Only one gun was pointed at him. The rest stood around waiting. Fools. Everyone should have their weapons on him. Because that was the only chance they’d have to kill him.
Callie held her injured side as she continuously pressed the button to open the door to the base, but it wouldn’t work. Tears streamed down her face. The one camera she had facing the house only showed her a partial view of what was happening. But she heard everything.
“Wyatt! Damn you!” she bellowed.
If he died, she was going to . . . Well, she didn’t know what she would do, but she would make him hurt, whatever it was.
She slipped on the stairs, landing on her bad side. Callie struggled to catch her breath through the pain. She slammed her fist on the metal stairs.
Wyatt might be a legend, but he wasn’t invincible. She wanted to knock him upside the head for thinking he could stand against so many and come out unharmed.
“I’m going to kick his ass,” she muttered to herself.
She gingerly pushed herself back to her feet and limped to her chair. With her laptop, she panned out as wide as she could on the camera and counted ten members of her family. Wyatt’s back was to her so she couldn’t see his face.
Her heart thumped against her ribs as the minutes stretched out. When Wyatt sprang into action, it was with a quickness and agility that stunned her.
He got to Melvin first, snapping her cousin’s wrist without even looking at him. Wyatt then turned to his left and punched one of her uncles in the face and grabbed his rifle before pivoting to shove the butt of the weapon into cousin Wilfred’s face, knocking him out.
With three down, Wyatt leaned to the side as a knife was thrown at him. He fired the rifle before using it as a club, swinging it at the legs of another Reed.
In seconds, five members of Callie’s kin were down. She didn’t know if they were dead or unconscious.
Wyatt had moved on to the remaining five, with ease. He punched and elbowed his way through them, using hand-to-hand combat skills she’d never witnessed before. His movements were so fast that the Reeds couldn’t keep up. And before she could blink, the remaining men were on the ground.
He stood in the middle of them and looked right at the camera—right at her. After a moment, his gaze shifted.
“Get up,” Wyatt told Melvin, who was cradling his hand. “Get your family, and get out of here.”
Melvin started to get to his feet, but something on the ground caught his eye. Callie screamed a warning when she saw her cousin go for the pistol.
Wyatt turned, firing off a quick shot. Callie heard four distinct weapons. She held her breath, waiting as Wyatt and Melvin both remained upright. Then Melvin tilted to the side before falling to the ground.
Callie dropped her face into her hands. How in the hell was she going to get through the main battle? This precursor had about did her in.
Wyatt’s head rang with the sound of Callie screaming his name. He stared down at Melvin’s dead body before he turned to the barn to see that both Owen and Maks had fired shots.
“The next wave will be soon,” Owen said.
Wyatt holstered his gun and turned on his heel to make his way back to the barn where he’d left his rifle. He knew who would come next.
“Listen up,” Wyatt said. “When the Ahmadi’s men come, let them get close to the barn without revealing your positions. I want to box them in.”
Owen asked, “Is that wise? Shouldn’t we keep them out? With them close, it’ll be easy for the others to get close.”
“Wyatt’s right,” Bobby said through the COMs. “Let the bastards close. We’ll keep the others at bay.”
Wyatt looked at Owen, who still remained in the barn. His brother gave a nod of agreement before sneaking out to his designated spot to the right.
It was only Wyatt and Maks left in the barn. He looked at the hay bale that covered the entrance to the base. He wanted to go to Callie and tell her he was sorry for what happened with her family, but he couldn’t.
He settled into his position near the back doors that were thrown wide.
The silence of the COMs was an indication of how on edge everyone was.
Wyatt looked to where Danny Mazza was positioned.
He’d put Danny close to the barn so he could keep an eye on him, and he could only hope that none of the other members of his team were part of the Saints.
There was a crackle on the COMs before Callie’s voice whispered, “Two dozen men coming in from the left. Another fifteen on the right. They’re all in black with their faces painted. I can’t tell who is with who.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Wyatt said. “They came here to execute us. We kill or be killed.”
Ten minutes later, Wyatt spotted the first of the men. The group approaching kept looking around, waiting for an attack. Wyatt smiled as he and the others remained motionless.
It was a battle tactic to allow the enemy so close, but he had to use everything to his advantage from the land to outthinking his opponent. He just prayed it worked.
As their foes closed in, he sighted down his rifle through the scope. They were within fifty yards of the barn, then forty, and then thirty. The second group was closing in fast.
“Fire,” Wyatt whispered.
Shots rang out as men fell. Return fire was immediate. But the retreat of their enemies without anyone stopping them sent a warning through Wyatt. Had Bobby and the others all turned on him?
Just when he was about to accept that his team members were Saints, they began firing on the men. Those that had gotten past them ran faster to the trees, hoping to escape.
Wyatt stood and fired at three that rushed the barn. When the ammunition ran out, and he grabbed a semi-automatic rifle, he glanced to the trees and found men lying on the ground.
Wood splintered near his face as a bullet embedded in the side of the barn. Wyatt swung his rifle to the side and fired. He saw a shot ring out, hitting one of their enemies, nowhere near where he’d positioned anyone.
“Grenade!” came a shout through the COMs.
A moment later, a massive boom sounded to the left. Wyatt kept firing, moving from one gun to the other and shifting positions around the barn as needed.
In fifteen minutes, all but a handful of the attacking force lay dead. Those still alive were the ones who’d managed to retreat.
“Check in,” Wyatt said as he grabbed a bottle of water and drank down over half of it before pouring the other half over his head.
“I’m good,” Owen stated.
Natalie said, “I’m fine.”
“Alive,” Maks said.
Wyatt looked up at the loft to see Maks tying off a bandana around his arm with his teeth. Maks gave a nod and retrieved his rifle.
“Zeus,” Wyatt said.
Bobby then responded by saying, “We lost two in the grenade. Another three wounded, but we’re still able to fight.”
“That trick won’t work again. I expected Ahmadi’s men to be the second wave, but I was wrong.” And Wyatt hated being wrong.
Callie’s voice then said, “There are more men waiting out there, watching. If any of you move now, they’ll know.”
“Not all of us,” Bobby said with a laugh.
Wyatt began to quickly reload the rifles, looking up often at the pastures littered with dead bodies. “This time, kill the fuckers as soon as you see them. If you have a shot, don’t wait for my signal.”
No sooner had he finished talking than Bobby said, “They’re here, Wyatt. They’re coming.”
He didn’t need to ask who his friend was referring to. Wyatt lifted his rifle, but it was the distinct sound of an RPG firing that had him looking upward.
“Incoming!” Owen shouted.
Wyatt barely had time to dive out of the way as the missile came right for him. The explosion sent dirt, wood, and hay upward.
He rolled over and sat up, firing at the men who had rushed the barn. The sound of a gun firing above him let Wyatt know that Maks was all right.
Another RPG came at the barn. Wyatt rolled out of the way and reached for a rifle only to have a bullet hit the dirt an inch from his hand.
He glared at the Middle Eastern man firing at him and started to get to his feet when there was a shot, and a hole appeared in the center of the attacker’s head. A bead of blood ran down his forehead as he fell to his knees before falling face-first to the ground.
Wyatt turned around and came face-to-face with his father.
“Hello, son,” Orrin said before firing off more shots.