Chapter 34 Weston
WESTON
I pivot and retrace the route at a controlled pace, my senses constantly surveying my surroundings. He might have circled back. He might have a partner, and they might be counting on me charging back blind.
But the path back to the school is clear, and when I get there, I take out my phone and call Buck.
“Talk,” he answers.
“I spotted him.”
“Location?”
“South side of the school. Concealed position in the brush.” I keep scanning as I speak, my eyes moving constantly. “He ran. I pursued, but lost him.” I add into the silence, “He drew on me in the alley behind Cooper Lane and Elk Trail. Fired once and missed.”
Buck swears, low and vicious, and Calder’s voice comes faint through Buck’s end, asking what happened.
“I’ll notify the sheriff’s office. Hold position until we get there.” Then Buck hangs up.
I slide the phone back into my pocket and approach the brush from an angle, moving slowly and carefully.
The man abandoned more than I expected. Tucked against a rock outcrop and masked with cut branches, there’s a compact surveillance setup with a view of the gymnasium doors, part of the playground, and the windows of three classrooms.
There’s a tripod, binoculars, and a small digital camera, all of it professional quality.
Two flattened cigarette butts are ground into the dirt near the rock. Cardboard and thin paper, different from the others, but still foreign.
Either Kozlov ran out of his regular brand, or he’s got someone working for him.
A few minutes later, Buck and Calder come in hot, both of them looking furious enough to do damage. The same rage is still flowing through my veins.
They survey the gear without touching any of it, while I give them a rundown of what happened. The chase, the alley, the shot, and the fact that the shooter didn’t waste rounds after buying himself distance.
“A professional doesn’t shoot to scare unless he has a reason,” Calder says.
Buck glances at me. “He didn’t want a body in the middle of town.”
“Not yet,” Calder says grimly as he moves to bag up evidence.
We secure the equipment and clear the area. By the time we regroup in Buck’s office, the adrenaline has burned off enough to leave me with the full weight of what almost happened.
“We need to move them,” I announce as we stand over the surveillance equipment that’s now spread across the desk. “Elena and T.J.,” I add when no one responds. “Tonight. Off-site to a controlled location. Maybe Sentinel’s compound first, then somewhere further out.”
“And then what?” Buck says. “We tuck them away and hope he gets bored?”
“We reduce his access.”
Calder cuts in. “He’s already dictating movement. You want to reward that?”
“I want them alive.” I pound the desk, taking all three of us by surprise.
“So do I,” Buck says with just as much heat.
“Then act like it.”
His face hardens. “You don’t think I am?”
“I think you’re too close to this town and too convinced we can handle the battlefield because it’s home turf.” I shove a hand through my hair. “He’s been inside the school. He fired in town and still got away.”
“And you think dragging Elena and T.J. out under pressure fixes that?” Buck demands.
“This doesn’t end by backing up,” Calder says. “It ends when we find him and stop him.”
I trust both of these men with my life, but they’re dead wrong if they think I’ll gamble Elena’s. “She’s not a tactical asset. She’s not bait.”
Buck goes still, and for a second, I think I’ve finally said the thing that’ll turn this from an argument into a fight, but he looks past me, the office door opens, and Elena steps in.
She pins me in her sights. “What happened? Coach Wilkins told me he saw you run after someone.”
I glance at the other men, wishing I could spare Elena from all of this, but knowing that’s not the way, and not what she wants.
“I found him near the school,” I say. “He ran from a surveillance position under the trees, and I chased him.”
“But he got away?” she asks.
“He fired at Weston,” Calder says.
“What?” She spins toward me, the color draining from her face. “Are you hurt?” She looks me over, her eyes frantic, then runs her hands over my arms and chest, as if to confirm what she’s seeing.
“I’m fine. He missed.”
She exhales, but there’s not much relief in it. Keeping a hand on me, she turns toward the desk. “This is his stuff?”
Buck says it is, and it crosses my mind to tell her about the different cigarette brand and the possibility there may be more than one operator, but I don’t.
Instead, I turn her back toward me and squeeze her arm. “I think you and T.J. should be moved somewhere safer.”
Elena folds her arms over her chest. “No.”
I try again with a gentler tone. “Elena—”
“No.” She looks up at me, her gaze unwavering.
“I’m not spending my life running because some man’s decided he gets to own what happened to Tyler.
Or me. Or my son.” Emotion roughens her voice, but it doesn’t weaken her resolve.
“We came here to build a life. T.J. likes it here. I finally feel like I can breathe here, and I’m not handing that over without a fight. ”
Fear kicks hard in my chest. Not fear of Kozlov, but of what he can take. Or how quickly he can take it. With just one bullet, or one more fire, he can take Elena before I’ve even had the chance to tell her what she means to me. “This isn’t pride. It’s survival.”
“I know what it is.” She steps closer and puts a hand on my chest again. “I don’t want to run, and protecting me doesn’t mean deciding my life should get smaller.” She glances at Buck and Calder. “I’ve had this same discussion with them.”
I swipe a hand over my mouth, then nod, even though this is the hardest agreement I’ve made in a long time. “Okay.” I meet Buck and Calder’s eyes, then look back at her. “We end it here. I hate it, but if that’s your choice, I back it.”
I look down at the surveillance equipment spread out under the harsh overhead lights, then back at the woman standing in the middle of our argument like she belongs there more than any of us do.
Maybe instead of us deciding how to protect her, we’re learning that protecting her doesn’t mean boxing her in.
It means standing beside her when she decides to fight.