Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
F lickering light from inside the chapel alerted the group that someone was inside. Whoever was in there had covered the bottom half of all the windows to eliminate glow. Unfortunately for them, there was still enough light produced that the upper part of the windows revealed a glow visible from outside. They’d probably assumed the candles weren’t bright enough to see.
Trent pulled his service pistol from his holster beneath his FBI emblazoned coat. He and two of his men approached the door. He looked to Connor for the approval to open it. Connor had given the okay as they were walking out there. The men hiding had no rights, since they were on the property illegally.
Ross pulled out a tool that looked like a small battering ram. He’d jokingly called it the ‘big key’ when they’d told him how this would go down. It couldn’t be this easy. They’d said they were going to bust in the door, hopefully on the first try. Usually, the surprise was enough to allow them to move in and make arrests.
Connor had his doubts. Viceroy was slippery. He would try anything in order to get away, even if it was unplanned and risky. Viceroy didn’t care if anyone else was hurt, as long as he was free. Connor waited off to the side since that’s the job he was given to do. His men were supposed to leave the agents to their work.
Trent took the big key and slammed it right above the knob. The door splintered near the knob and gave way, squeaking open and leaving a split hole in the jamb. Before any of the feds could move in, shots blasted out from inside and everyone around him dove for cover.
Blood trickled down Ross’s face and he held his hand to his temple. He was calm but his hands were already shaking.
“Edwyn, call that in,” Connor yelled from his position. He was closest to Ross.
Edwyn glanced at his phone. “The emergency number hasn’t worked for over 24 hours. I’ll call the fire department. They have an ambulance.” He fiddled with hunting for the direct number for a minute, then called.
Connor crawled over to pull Ross out of the open and into cover. He hadn’t been able to move far. His earpiece had been severed where the bullet grazed his cheek. Now he was bleeding profusely.
With shaking hands, Ross dug into his cargo pants and tugged a bandana free. Connor grabbed it from him and used it to staunch the bleeding. He listened for the other two men, but the area was eerily silent.
“Trent, location?” Connor asked.
Someone sent another high caliber bullet at him from inside the chapel. He couldn’t let this become deadly. Not for him, his men, or the agents. Ross would need attention quickly or risk losing too much blood.
Junior crawled toward him and took over holding the makeshift bandage to Ross’s face. “What should we do?”
Edwyn joined them, belly crawling over, still talking on the phone with the dispatcher. “The truck is on the way.”
The slightest hint of a shadow in the shape of a man appeared in the dark doorway. Either the candles had been put out or something was blocking the light. Those outside the chapel were at a disadvantage with the snow. Whoever was inside could see right where they were in the light of the moon and the reflection off the snow.
He pulled his weapon from the holster, just as Edwyn gripped his arm. Edwyn muttered the message he’d been dying to hear, “Brendon heard from Lacy. She and all the guests are over at Gloria’s. Lacy and Ferd helped all of them. They are fine.”
Now he could focus. He could do what needed to be done without worrying that Lacy might get shot. They’d had to hold back on shooting into the chapel when they hadn’t known. He laid fully prone on his belly and aimed dead center in the doorway.
Without Trent by his side to give orders, he carefully decided where it was most likely to take out the attacker and pulled the trigger. One of the men shot back at him but the bullet went high. Trent belly crawled over.
“Report,” he said as moved Junior’s hand from the wound.
“I haven’t seen your other agent. Ross is shot and needs attention, ASAP. What are your orders?” Connor answered.
“We need to get him to a position where he can get help. No one is going to be able to get back here,” Trent said.
“Agreed. Junior, can you carry him back to the lodge if we find something to use as a bandage?” There wasn’t enough of the bandana to tie around Ross’s head.
Trent unzipped his coat and pulled out a small med kit. He unzipped it, then dug a roll of bandages out. Junior immediately grabbed it and ripped it out of the plastic packaging, then worked to get the gauze securely wrapped around Ross’s head.
Once that was done, Junior hefted him in a fireman’s carry and headed toward the lodge, while Connor and the others covered him. Connor didn’t require that his men stay in the same peak condition they had when they were in the military, but most of them did anyway.
“Now, I want this to end.” Trent reached for his duty belt and pulled out a narrow black tube. He pulled the metal ring on the end and thick smoke gushed from the top. He tossed it toward the gaping door. Someone inside tried to close it before the smoke grenade could enter, but they weren’t quick enough. Soon, smoke poured from inside the small, enclosed building.
Connor waited, his eyes burning from the brief contact with the smoke. He wasn’t sure if it was teargas or just powerful chemicals to create irritation, but it worked. When the men didn’t come out right away, he army crawled forward a few feet to see if they had been knocked out from the fumes.
“Stay back. When it’s clear, we’ll go inside and get them,” Trent said.
Shots broke out, this time low to the ground and Connor covered his head and yelled for his men to do the same. Edwyn shouted to the dispatcher that he couldn’t stay on the phone anymore and he hung up, then shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Come out with your hands up,” Trent yelled. “Come out now because you won’t like it if we have to come in there and get you.”
A man with a thick accent called from inside the chapel, “You don’t scare me. What are you going to do to me that’s worse than dying? Nothing.” He laughed.
Viceroy would never face justice. He’d keep shooting and injuring anyone in his way. He may have his back against a wall, but he’d always managed to get out before. For all they knew, he could have reinforcements on the way to get him out of there.
Connor reached toward Edwyn. “Cole’s goggles.” He held open his hand. He’d forgotten for a moment about the goggles Edwyn had gotten from Cole earlier, the ones that had helped them find the first pair of men. Now, those very goggles would make all the difference.
“Trent, what are your options? How do you plan to end this?” He wouldn’t take the shot if Trent had another plan.
“I have to wait until the smoke makes them blinded or until they give up. I don’t have enough men to run inside.”
“Or you shoot.” Connor turned his head to look at him. “That man has taken many lives and ruined countless lives.” He wasn’t trying to justify death, but he also couldn’t wait there for another man to get shot.
In the next instant, the entire chapel burst into flames, the explosion burst out the windows. A wave of heat raked over Connor’s back. He jumped to his feet and covered his eyes against the blindingly bright light.
Nothing but flames moved inside.
“What happened?” Edwyn took to his feet next to Connor, his gaze fixed on the building.
“I don’t know. Maybe this was their final plan. Maybe they hoped we’d get closer, and they’d take us out with them. Or maybe they had something in there that reacted with the smoke bomb. I’m afraid we won’t know until this is over.”
Edwyn raked his hands through his hair. “I know it won’t spread, but there’s no water out here besides the snow to put it out.”
“I hate to say it, but by the time the fire trucks get here, there won’t be anything left,” Connor said.
Trent holstered his weapon. “I was hoping I’d be bringing a fugitive in to face trial. You never want to see this.”
All of them seemed to inherently know that no one could survive that blast, but none of them moved to leave. Connor had to stay to maintain safety. With a fire raging like that, it would be ludicrous to walk away. Trent made no move to order his other man to leave, and neither did he.
Junior trudged back toward them, looking tired. “Ross is on his way to Cheyenne. Two firefighters are coming with portable extinguishers, since I told them there was a risk of fire. We saw it blow on the way back. I doubt they’ll be able to do much, but that’s all they have.”
He was too tired to offer to throw buckets of snow on the building. If there had been any chance to save lives or the building itself, he would’ve tried but the effort looked futile. He was tired to his very core, but Viceroy wouldn’t be threatening Wayside anymore.