Love or Justice Read online

  “Oh, lots of them. I love kids.” David turned toward her again. “How about you, Ms. Laurie? Do you want kids?”

  “Someday, when I find the right man and fall in love.” Laurie turned on the couch, looking at Dante. “Do you want children, Dante?”

  Dante paused. His gaze locked with Laurie’s for a moment. Images of a pregnant Laurie flashed in his mind. Then her carrying a toddler on her hip or giving the baby a bath. He was willing to bet she’d make a fantastic mother. With those kind eyes, that easy smile, the way she pushed her own fears aside to hike, and smile, and laugh with him. Yes, she would make a fantastic mother.

  “Yes.” His heart leapt when he said it. “I mean, when the time is right. When I meet the right woman.”

  Laurie smiled at him.

  Dante smiled back. They looked at each other for a heartbeat or two in silence.

  David’s cell phone rang. He didn’t even ask for permission. He just picked it up.

  “Hello?” He listened intently. His expression changed, his smile fading. “No, no. Mary. You were right to call me. It’s okay. Don’t cry. No, you weren’t bothering me. You’re never bothering me. I love you.”

  David strode into the kitchen, talking fast to stop the tears on the other end of the phone.

  “False alarm.” She shrugged. She looked just as disappointed as David did.

  Dante chuckled.

  David strode back into the room.

  “She called the doctor. He thinks it’s just an upset stomach.”

  “Next time, David. Next time.” Laurie shook her head. “You have a month and a half to go. You don’t want to have the baby this early anyway.”

  “No, I know.” He still looked a little disappointed as he settled down onto the windowsill.

  Dante and Laurie shared a look before Laurie flipped on the TV.

  ***

  Later that night, David’s false alarm was all Laurie wanted to talk about as they got ready for bed. Laurie sat on her bed, pulling her nightclothes out of her bag.

  Dante took out his nightshirt and sweats, laying them beside his sleeping bag. He was determined to sleep in his own bed tonight, no matter what happened. He had been on dangerous ground the last couple of nights, but he mentally committed himself to stopping it tonight.

  “I don’t think I could do it. Be away from my husband when I’m about to give birth.” Laurie ran a brush through her hair.

  “Lots of people have to, military wives, police wives when their husbands are on long assignments, Marshals Service. It’s just something that happens. Love the man; you have to love the job too.”

  “Yeah, I guess, but God that must be hard.”

  “It is hard. I’ve seen a lot of men do it. It makes them crazy. David’s doing well with it though. He’s going to be a great Witsec Inspector.”

  “Well, he should be doing great with it. Apparently he has the best teacher.” Laurie winked at him.

  Dante laughed.

  “Don’t pay any attention to Rick.” Dante shook his head. “He trained me, so if that tells you—”

  “Intruder!” Max yelled from downstairs. The sound of several gun shots followed, then return gunfire.

  Laurie sucked in a breath, and stared at Dante in shock.

  Dante grabbed her, dragging her into the hall. He unlatched the safe room with a swift motion. Without a word, he thrust her in, slamming the door.

  As soon as Dante closed the safe room door, David burst through his bedroom door.

  “Laurie?” was all David said. Dante pointed to the safe room.

  “This way.” Dante got out his gun and moved down the hall.

  Dante never expected a gun battle here. He led David to the mouth of the hallway where they crouched down low to the floor. Dante could hear shots and return fire. Max and Cheyn were both still fighting. Dante intended to give them cover.

  He gestured to David to cover the left. He crouched close to the right side of the hallway and inched his way forward until he could see out over the living room. Then he ducked back behind the wall. He was just above Max, who was hiding behind a protrusion in the stonewall that housed the fireplace.

  Max shot across the room at a man behind the couch.

  Dante aimed. When the man popped up again, Dante let off a round. The man flew backward, and lay on the floor. Dante crouched back down again.

  He could still hear gunshots coming from the living room below him. He maneuvered himself to see where else Max was aiming. There was another man hiding just outside the door to the patio. The man’s gunfire hit the stone wall with a sharp rapping and the tinkling of broken stone. Dante took aim, but the assailant saw him. Dante ducked behind the wall.

  Two more shots came. One to him, the other to Max. The former missed, the second didn’t.

  Dante turned back to the scene just in time to see Max crumple to the floor. He took aim at the assailant and fired. The man crumpled to the ground as well.

  Dante heard continued gunfire on the left side of the house. He crawled over to David, who shot and then ducked for cover. There was an armed man crouched on the other side of the counter toward the open front door. He used both as an effective shield from the gunfire. Dante took aim, but had to duck as a bullet flew at them, narrowly missing his head.

  David returned fire. It caught the man in the neck. He fell to the floor. All was silent.

  “Where’s Cheyn?” Dante glanced down into the kitchen.

  “Kitchen floor. He’s bleeding, but I don’t know where he got shot.”

  “Any more of them?”

  “I don’t think so, I only saw one.”

  Dante grabbed his cell phone. He punched the radio button.

  “The Hilo safe house has been assaulted. Two officers down. Three assailants dead. Requesting immediate back-up and medical assistance!”

  “Copy that, safe house. Back-up and medical assistance is on the way,” responded the voice on the other side of the phone. Dante stuck the phone back in his pocket.

  “David, we have to secure the house. I’m going to crawl out to the end of the landing. I need you to cover me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Dante was halfway down the landing, a shot rang out from a part of the kitchen below where David was crouched.

  A scream came from the hallway behind Dante. Oh God. Laurie was out of the safe room.

  The bullet grazed Dante’s arm, as he instinctively covered his head and pitched to the side. He cried out as searing hot pain tore at his flesh.

  David returned fire, but missed.

  The gunman fired back at him.

  David tried to move back to the wall, but it was too late. The shot caught him in the neck. He fell to the floor.

  Laurie screamed again and rushed forward.

  Dante returned fire, hitting the gunman right between the eyes.

  Blinded by rage and pain, Dante lunged for Laurie.

  She leaned over David, clutching at the front of his shirt. She was already half-way to sobbing.

  Dante’s wounded arm sent searing hot waves of pain up his shoulder as he grabbed Laurie by both her arms and hauled her back down the hallway. With a look of absolute fury, he shoved her into the safe room.

  Dante swept his gun and his gaze over the hallway. He strained his ears for every sound. He heard David gasping for breath, and that caused Dante to pray as he crouched low beside him.

  David’s shocked eyes stared up at him. His hot, sticky blood poured out, pooling on the carpet.

  “Stay with me, David. Just stay with me. The medical team’s on the way.”

  David made an inaudible rasping noise. Tears welled in his eyes. David’s eyes pleaded with Dante to do something.

  Dante tore off his shirt. As he pressed the waded up shirt to David’s wound, Dante saw David’s eyes go blank. They stared up at him, emotionless, vacant.

  “David! David!” He tugged at the man’s shirt.

  David didn’t move. His blank eyes stared b
ack at Dante.

  Dante swore. He pounded his fist on the floor, which sent shock waves up his injured arm. But pain was good. It kept away the mind-numbing grief that threatened to close in. The pain made Dante crawl away from David toward the stairs.

  He went corner to corner down the stairs with long sweeps of his gun. He checked on Max, who was bleeding from the abdomen.

  Max was trying to stop the bleeding, so Dante ran to the supply closet for the first aid equipment. He tore off several strips of gauze and gave it to Max to press to his wound.

  Then Dante checked the two assailants in the living room. Both of them were dead. He moved into the kitchen and checked Cheyn’s vitals. He was still alive, though unconscious. He had been hit in the arm, but the gunshot had knocked him back and he’d hit his head on the counter. The gunmen must have thought he was dead. Dante said a silent prayer, then checked on the gunmen. They were both lifeless.

  Dante closed doors, locking them. He went back upstairs. He washed Max and David’s blood off his hands. Then he pulled a fresh shirt from his duffle bag. He washed and bandaged his own wound, bleeding freely from his bicep. He was relieved when he saw the bullet just grazed him, instead of lodging in his flesh. He couldn’t go in for surgery and protect his witness at the same time.

  His witness, the foolish woman in the safe room that had twice now defied his orders. The woman was going to get them both killed.

  With his arm tended to as well as he could, he grabbed his bag, and Laurie’s bag, taking them downstairs. He knew it was cruel to make her wait, but she had earned it. He couldn’t let her out until back up arrived. If another attack came, they would think she fled the house.

  After he set down the bags, he tended to Max. Dante heard sirens and a helicopter. They were here. He squeezed Max’s shoulder as the young man struggled to remain conscious. Several police cars pulled up. Dante ran to open the front door.

  The police came through the door to find the dead body of an assailant, and Dante standing there, hands in the air above his head. He had on his Marshals vest to send a clear message.

  “I’m U.S. Marshal Dante Stark. Is Lt. Jameson with you?”

  Dante knew all of the local lieutenants. He knew Jameson would be on the night shift. The lieutenant pushed his way to the front of the group of officers.

  “Jesus Christ, Dante! What happened?” Lt. Jameson gestured to the fallen men.

  “We were attacked. A four-member hit team. I have two men down and one agent dead. All assailants are dead. I need the medic in here now.”

  “You need the medic yourself!” Lt. Jameson pointed to his bandage. “Secure the rooms, gentleman. Get the medic and get them in here!”

  Dante looked down to see his makeshift bandage sopping with blood.

  “Scratch,” he muttered. “Dick, my witness is in the safe room. I need to get her out of here to a secure location.”

  “All right. We’ll get you outta here. But I’m going to need your gun for the crime lab.”

  “Fine. I have a backup.” He handed over his gun to Lt. Jameson, who bagged it. “I need the black SUV swept for explosives or other assailants. I have to get the witness out of here.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll sweep it myself. Give the detective here a rundown of what happened.”

  Dante took them room by room, as the medic rushed Max out to the waiting helicopter, and then came back for Cheyn. Dante felt numb as they rolled Cheyn out onto the patio in the gurney to the medevac waiting in the field behind the house.

  “He should be fine, Mr. Stark.” The paramedic tapped his clipboard. “He was knocked in the head pretty good by the fall, but his vitals are good. We’ll run an MRI and a CT scan, but he’ll be just fine. The other guy—Max—lost a lot of blood. They’ll both need surgery.”

  “Hilo Medical Center?” Dante nodded to him.

  “Yes, sir.” The paramedic sped by him.

  “Good. I’ll notify our supervisor.” He clenched his jaw as the paramedic ran out into the field and jumped in the helicopter. His team was shattered.

  “Dante, the vehicle’s as clean as a whistle. I’m clearing you to leave with the witness. But I’m going to need to follow-up with you.” Lt. Jameson patted him on his good shoulder.

  “You have my number. Do me a favor and call Rick. Tell him what happened and that I’m taking the witness to another safe house. I’m going to have a hard time getting her out of here,” Dante told him as he took the bags out to the waiting SUV. Lt. Jameson had stationed officers around each side.

  “Certainly, certainly. She must be scared out of her mind. Does she know the one man died?” he opened the side door for Dante.

  “Yes. She doesn’t follow orders very well.” Dante tossed in the bags, turned on his heel and walked back toward the house.

  He jogged as he went into the house and up to the safe room. He was anxious to get to Laurie now. His head was still spinning, but he needed to make sure she was okay. He also knew he needed to get on the road. A four-man hit on a well-protected safe house was an unprecedented attack. He didn’t need a repeat.

  He walked up to the hidden safe room door. He knocked on the shelf and yelled.

  “Laurie, it’s me. I’m opening the door.”

  He slid the door to the side.

  Laurie launched herself into his arms.

  “Dante!”

  She wrapped her arms around him.

  He wrapped his arms around her in return. As angry as he was at her, her touch was exactly what he needed.

  Tears were streaming down her face, and she shook like a palm tree in a hurricane. Her breath came in short gasps, almost on the verge of hyperventilating. Now he felt like a beast for making her wait in there, alone and unarmed, after what she had seen. The guilt was sharp as it wrenched in his chest.

  “Are you all right?” He knew the officers on the landing were staring, but he didn’t care. He cupped her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers.

  “Breathe,” he said.

  He coached her through a few breaths, until her trembling ceased. He felt the pulse at her neck return to normal. Her eyelids, heavy with teardrops, fluttered open.

  “I’m sorry.” She stared up at him with her watery blue eyes. “I just wanted to help.”

  Her lower lip trembled. He didn’t have the heart to fight her right now.

  “I need to get you out of here. We need to leave.”

  “Cheyn? Max?” Laurie glanced at David’s body for a second, before she flinched and looked away. “You’re bleeding!”

  Her fingertips grazed the soaked pad of cloth on his arm.

  “It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine. We need to go to another safe house.”

  “Yes.” She looked up into his eyes. She hugged him again.

  Wrapping his arm around her back, Dante led her down the hall. As he led her past David’s body, he tried to turn her toward him to shield her from it.

  She turned her head, and it was too late. A raw sob tore from her throat.

  “Oh God. He’s never going to be a father.”

  Laurie lost it. She flat out lost it.

  Dante pulled her against him hard.

  She struggled at the unexpected contact.

  Dante grimaced as his muscles screamed against his bullet wound.

  “Laurie, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you grieve right now. I need you with me. Okay, do you understand me? I need to get you out. I’m sorry!” He shook her.

  Her knees buckled. She fell against him. She was shaking again, and there was nothing he could do.

  He half dragged her down the stairs, through the house, past all of the officers. They stared, but scampered out of his way. The Lieutenant waved goodbye as Dante helped Laurie into the SUV. He got in the driver’s seat, turned on the truck, backed up and drove away from the house.

  The cool night air, the darkness, and the distance brought Laurie back to herself. She hugged herself, letting the tears just stream down as she rested
her head against the cold window. She cleared her throat several times before she could speak.

  “What about Max and Cheyn?”

  “Max has been shot.” Dante took a steadying breath. “They’re both on their way to the hospital. Cheyn was shot in the arm. He was knocked unconscious by the fall.”

  “Will they be okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Dante wished he could do the same.

  “I’m sorry they were hurt, Dante.”

  He almost choked on his own emotions, but he clamped down on them. He had to get to the next safe house. He couldn’t do that if he broke down. So, he turned his mind to anything he could think of except what had just happened. He would deal with the present moment when he and Laurie were safe.

  ***

  Laurie

  Dante drove to Kona.

  Laurie sat, staring out into the black distance.

  Neither spoke.

  Dante pulled off Route 11 and onto a dead-end street where the safe house was located. He gunned the engine to get up the steep incline, then braked suddenly and swerved to miss the line of trees in front of them.

  Laurie gripped the seat.

  Dante parked in front of a small square building, with little awnings over each window.

  Laurie couldn’t tell what color it was in the darkness, but it wouldn’t have mattered to her anyway.

  Dante shut off the engine.

  Laurie reached for the door, put he laid a hand on her arm. She looked at him. He took a small pistol out of the console in his truck, loaded it, and handed it to her.

  “I don’t…”

  “Just point and shoot, Laurie. I don’t normally give witnesses a gun because they can hurt someone without meaning to, but there isn’t going to be a team for a couple of days. Maybe one or two men, until we can fly in someone else. I need to know you’re protected. I’ll show you how to load it and clean it tomorrow. Tonight, I just need you armed. I go into the house first. You stay with me, until I’ve checked every room, okay?”

  Laurie nodded. She blinked at the gun in her hand. It was cold, shiny, and heavier than she expected. Even on the shooting end of it, it was intimidating.