Chapter 21 #3
“Sierra could be hit if they fire into my house!” Grover growled.
“Everyone’s been instructed to fire high and low, not right at the windows.”
Grover wasn’t exactly happy with that, but he also knew it was the best he was going to get at the moment.
“They’ll keep them occupied as we come in from the west, and Ghost and his crew come in from the east. The garage is a weak spot. From what we can tell, they don’t have eyes on it.”
“They put shit up against the back door,” Grover warned.
“Yeah, we saw. It won’t slow any of Ghost’s crew down. Be ready, Grover. Two minutes and we’re in. We’re coming in quiet rather than balls to the wall.”
“Ten-four.”
“See you soon. This’ll be over in five. Over and out.”
Grover slid the phone into his back pocket and headed for the door. Cory and Brody had barricaded the door of the media room with several chairs from his living room, but they were no match for Grover. A few hard, quiet shoves and he was entering his hallway.
He paused to listen, hearing nothing but the sound of someone on a megaphone outside, attempting to get Cory to talk. Grover felt his heartbeat slow as he regulated his breathing and crept down the hallway toward his living area, completely focused on the task at hand.
An extremely loud whooshing sound startled him—followed by a massive explosion that literally rocked the house on its foundation.
He heard someone shout with excitement in the front room. Glass shattered somewhere, probably from the blast wave of the RPG exploding, as it hit whatever Cory had aimed at.
Then the air filled with the sound of gunshots.
It sounded like Grover was in the middle of World War Three. There was no need to be quiet anymore, as no one in the house would be able to hear anything but the report of dozens of guns.
More shouts came from upstairs, men yelling that people were coming toward the house from the backyard.
It sounded like the Strong Foot Militia was panicking.
Good. It would make things easier for him and his team.
Moving quickly, Grover crept up behind Alan. He was staring dumbly out the back door toward the yard, his rifle pointed at the floor.
He put a hand over the militia man’s mouth and wrenched the weapon away from him. Alan grunted in surprise, his eyes wide, but he didn’t put up a fight.
Hearing something behind him, Grover turned—and saw the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.
Six figures coming down the hallway, from the direction of the garage.
His team, led by Trigger.
Doc grabbed Alan, and Grover motioned toward the small dining room at the front of the house. Within two minutes, there were four men lying on Grover’s living room floor, their arms bound behind them, tape over their mouths so they couldn’t warn their friends.
Doc stood over them with a rifle, as the rest of the team headed for the stairs.
This would be tricky. The sounds of a huge gun battle still raged outside, and Grover prayed that Trigger was right and no one was shooting live rounds into his house.
He didn’t give a shit about his things; all he cared about was that Sierra didn’t get caught in the crossfire.
Trigger let him lead the way up the stairs, and Grover went slow and steady. When he’d climbed a few steps, he held up his hand to stop the others, then peeked over the bottom edge of the hall banister to see what the situation was.
Eyes widening, Grover saw Sierra sitting at the far end of the hallway. She’d stuffed herself into a corner and was huddled into a ball.
He was so damn proud of her at that moment. That was exactly what she should’ve done. Gotten herself away from the windows and made herself as small a target as possible.
Her eyes widened when she spotted him and without any prompting, she pointed at the master bedroom and held up two fingers.
Next, she pointed to one of his guest rooms and held up one finger.
Then she did the same with the other rooms, letting him know where everyone was.
Grover didn’t know who was in which room, but at the moment, that didn’t matter. They all needed to be subdued.
Looking back at his team, Grover wasn’t surprised to see Ghost, Fletch, and Truck standing at the bottom of the stairs.
They’d obviously made their entry into the house as well.
They had the numbers now to easily take out the remaining militia members, it was just a matter of if they’d be smart and surrender easily, or if they’d do something stupid.
Moving quickly, because they all knew they could be discovered at any second, the Deltas burst up the stairs and scattered into the various rooms.
Just as Grover was about to get to Sierra, Cory came out of the office.
He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Sierra and wrenching her off the floor.
She shrieked and fought him as hard as she could, to no avail.
Cory dropped the rifle he’d been holding and pulled out a pistol. He easily pulled Sierra in front of him and jammed the weapon under her chin, just as he’d done to Grover. Sierra’s head was forced back so Grover couldn’t see her eyes.
“Stop, or I’ll kill her.”
Grover immediately stopped in his tracks. Trigger at his side. The sound of men surrendering could be heard all around them, but Grover only had eyes for their leader. He held his own pistol with steady hands. All he needed was for Cory to give him an opening, and he was as good as dead.
The noise of the gunshots from outside faded. One of the Deltas must’ve communicated that things inside the house were under control. Mostly.
“It’s over,” Trigger told Cory. “Your plan failed.”
“It didn’t fail,” he crowed. “That explosion was seen by millions! As was the resulting firefight. Americans shooting at Americans. Everyone has seen how little the government cares about its people!”
“No one saw anything,” Trigger explained. “The one news crew out front stopped filming. See, we knew you had an RPG—and we knew you were going to use it.”
Cory’s face flushed red beneath his beard. “No!” he screamed.
“Yes,” Trigger said calmly. “As far as the American people know, the protestors who’ve been harassing innocent civilians for weeks went over the deep end and took an innocent woman and a decorated soldier hostage. No one sees you or your group as the victims here. You’re done.”
Sierra had gone still in Cory’s arms when he’d shoved his gun against her vulnerable flesh…but movement out of the corner of Grover’s eyes caught his attention. Sierra’s hand.
She held up one finger.
She wasn’t wasting any time. Wasn’t going to give them a chance to talk Cory down. But honestly, Grover wasn’t sure the man could be talked down. He was trapped and he knew it. His plans shot to hell, literally.
Two fingers…
Grover’s field of vision narrowed. He sighted his weapon between Cory’s eyes. The man was trying to keep himself hidden behind Sierra’s slight body, but the second she made her move, Grover would be ready.
No one threatened his woman. No one.
Cory was ranting and raving about the corruption of the government, how he might’ve failed today but his followers would take up where he left off, proving to the world that the military was immoral, full of nothing but killers.
Ignoring the irony of Cory’s statement, Grover saw Sierra lift a third finger.
She whipped one hand behind her and grabbed Cory’s dick, even as the other shoved the gun from beneath her chin.
She squeezed as hard as she could, and Cory reacted predictably. He screamed. He reflexively shoved Sierra away from him as he bent over double.
While she was still falling, Grover’s weapon discharged.
Two bodies hit the hardwood floor in the hallway only a moment apart, but Grover only cared about one of them. He dropped his weapon on the floor and raced for Sierra.
As Trigger and Lefty went to Cory to make sure he was disarmed and no longer a threat, Grover grabbed Sierra by the arms and hauled her upright, until she was standing in front of him.
His mind was in chaos, otherwise he never would’ve yanked her up so roughly, but he was desperate to make sure she was uninjured.
She blinked at him as he frantically searched for any signs she’d been hurt.
“Sierra?” he barked.
She frowned and shook her head, wincing.
“Sit rep!” a voice from behind them shouted. It was Lucky.
“Shots fired!” someone else yelled.
“No shit! Who was hit?”
The hallway was cramped and crowded as everyone tried to figure out what was going on. Grover vaguely heard someone yelling cease fire, obviously to whoever was in charge of the men outside, to make sure they didn’t start firing again after hearing more shots, but he could only stare at Sierra.
“Are you hit?” he asked her.
She licked her lips and took a deep breath. When she shook her head, Grover’s knees almost buckled right then and there. “Are you sure?”
She nodded and tried to look behind her. Grover took her head in his hands, preventing her from looking anywhere but at him. “Talk to me, Bean.”
“My ears are ringing from the shots but I…I think I’m okay. Is he…”
“He’s dead,” Grover said unemotionally.
Cory was right about one thing: the military was full of killers. And the most deadly of the bunch had been standing right in front of him.
He gently ran his thumb over her split lip, where Cory had hit her. In return, she raised her own hand and ran it over his cheek, where he’d been hit.
All around them, people moved, taking the young men down the stairs from the rooms where they’d been holed up and trying to assess the situation. But all Grover could do was stand there and stare at Sierra.
To his shock, tears filled her eyes, quickly spilling down her cheeks.
Fuck. Sierra didn’t cry. They’d both discussed it at length, with each other and with therapists.
And here she was, crying.
“Sierra?” he whispered, his own voice breaking.
To his amazement, she smiled. Tears dripped off her chin and she was fucking smiling.
“I’m okay!” she reassured him. “I’m just so relieved it’s over!”
Pulling her close, Grover did his best not to smother her as he held her against his chest. He could feel her tears wetting his shirt, and the feeling was one he’d never forget. “I love you,” he said. He put his hands on her shoulders and eased her back slightly. “I love you,” he repeated, louder.
“I love you too,” she said, still smiling and crying at the same time. “Maybe tonight is a good time to break in my apartment. Your house seems a bit…drafty.”
A loud laugh sounded from behind him, and Grover turned to see Brain. “That’s because most of the windows were blown out from the RPG blast,” he told them. “I’m thinking it might be a few days before you’re gonna want to return home.”
“We’re moving,” Grover informed his friend.
“What? No, we aren’t!” Sierra countered with a frown as she wiped her face.
“You can’t want to live here,” Grover argued.
“Why not? I’m not going to let some crazy person chase us out of our home!”
Grover pulled her into his arms again and turned to get the hell out of the hallway. He didn’t want Sierra to see Cory’s body, even though he suspected it wouldn’t upset her as much as it might someone else. She’d been through hell and back. He guessed not much would faze her in the future.
“We’ve got hours of meetings ahead of us,” he said as he walked her to the stairs.
“We’ll have to tell not only the FBI and ATF everything that happened here, but my commander as well.
We need to call Gillian and the others, make sure they know we’re okay.
We also need to call our parents. I have to get in touch with a security company to come out and arm this place with the best shit they’ve got, then I need to find someone to replace all these windows—”
“I’ll take care of the windows,” Ghost said, interrupting him.
They were at the bottom of the stairs now, and Grover could hardly believe the number of people who were in his house. He thought space was limited when all his teammates and their wives were over, but that was nothing compared to the bodies crammed inside at the moment.
Grover nodded at Ghost. “I’d appreciate it. Thanks for being here.”
“Wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”
“Hey, at least your house didn’t get blown up like mine did,” Fletch joked.
Grover remembered that event from a few years ago.
All he could do was nod. “True.” He turned back to Sierra.
“Anyway, as I was saying, we’re gonna be busy for a while.
But when we’re done, I’m taking you to your apartment and we’re not coming out for days.
I didn’t get to make you the dinner I had planned, and that pisses me off. ”
She smiled up at him. “Not making me dinner pisses you off, but not the fact that your house was just in the middle of a freaking war zone?”
“Oh, I’m pissed about that, for sure. Especially that you put yourself smack dab in the middle of this shit show. And that Cory hit you. And that these stupid kids didn’t realize what he had planned for them. And—”
Sierra reached up and put her hand over his mouth. “I get it.”
Suddenly, everything that had just happened hit Grover all at once. He couldn’t get the sight of Cory holding a gun to Sierra’s head out of his mind. He swayed on his feet.
“Get me a chair,” Sierra barked loudly. Everyone around them froze, and she snapped her fingers impatiently. “Now!”
Grover couldn’t help but smile slightly as several people rushed to do as she demanded. His woman was a tiny dynamo. She was stronger than anyone he’d ever met.
He sat, pulling her down with him. Sierra snuggled into him as if she didn’t care who was watching. And he supposed that was the case, because he sure as hell didn’t.
As men and women scurried around them, going about the business of figuring out what the hell had happened and how an unassuming American had gotten his hand on a freaking rocket-propelled grenade, Grover closed his eyes and held on to the woman he loved more than he could ever put into words.
They’d had a close call, and they both knew it.
But they were both all right now. And he was going to make sure they stayed that way.