Defiance (The Defending Home Series Book 1) (19 page)

Shane banged on the roof from the bed of the truck. Next to him was Colton and the two men were trying to keep from getting tossed out and onto the road.

“Slow down,” his brother yelled, the passing wind greedily snatching at his every word.

Within minutes, Dale spotted the sheriff’s office. It was nighttime and behind the windows came the flickering illumination from candles and battery-powered lights. He wasn’t sure where they were holding Sandy, assuming she was even still alive. His only lead was that she’d been at the station when she’d radioed him earlier. Dale pulled over, killing the engine as well as the lights.

All four of them hopped out. Immediately Duke went to Dale’s side, distinctly attuned to his owner’s every move.

The streets were deserted and the nighttime air was cool as they made their way toward the station. Shane and Colton were armed just as well as Dale was, the former with one of Walter’s ARs and Colton with a forty-caliber Glock, since this was the weapon he had become the most proficient with.

“You have a plan we should know about?” Shane wondered.

“We’re gonna walk in and asked them where she is,” Dale said simply.

“That should work,” Shane replied with noticeable sarcasm. He looked over at Colton. “Take a deep breath, kid, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Colton shot him a look like he wasn’t happy for being called out.

They were a few feet from the entrance when Dale said, “You two stay quiet.” He pointed at Duke. “And that goes for you too.”

Duke let out an almost inaudible whine.

Dale pushed through the set of double doors to the surprised looks of two deputies. He racked his shotgun but kept the muzzle pointed at the floor.

“Where is she?” he hollered.

The two deputies were standing behind a reception desk on his left. To his right was a waiting area and beyond that a security door which led to the patrol and detective’s desk.

“Lower the gun, Dale.” It was Deputy Keith Harris, his left hand held out in front of him. The other was on the grip of his pistol.

“We know you got her,” Colton shouted, pointing his Glock.

“Stand down,” Dale yelled at his nephew. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t say a word.”

Duke was growling now, the hackles on his back, standing on end. Keith’s eyes jumped from the weapons they were carrying to the dog.

“Look, let’s talk about this,” the deputy said, trying to talk him down.

Dale raised his shotgun and blew a hole in the ceiling above Keith’s head. Plaster and bits of tile fell around him. Keith ducked, as though the entire roof were about to fall. Dale’s ears were ringing.

A deputy came rushing through the far door, pistol drawn. Shane raised the AR, but hesitated. Three loud bangs sounded behind Dale as he watched the officer hit the ground. A trail of smoke curled from the barrel of Colton’s Glock, his nephew’s eyes fixed on the dead body some thirty feet away.

That was when the deputy next to Keith reached for his service pistol. Dale swiveled the shotgun over and blew him back against the wall. Keith dropped out of sight, hidden beneath the reception desk.

“Is anyone else gonna come bursting out that door?” Dale demanded.

“No,” Keith said just as the far door began swinging open again. Dale caught the coffee-brown color of the deputy’s sleeve before he shot, blasting a hole through the door and filling the man behind it with a third of an inch-sized pellets. He dropped dead without saying a word.

“Watch our backs,” he told Colton as they approached the door, stepping over the dead deputy in their way. Dale peered through the hole he’d made and caught two figures running through the shadows.

“Get out here, Keith,” Dale called back toward the frightened deputy. “Get out here right now and don’t try anything stupid or I won’t go easy on you.”

There was a pause—ten, maybe twenty seconds—before they caught the sound of someone sliding over the front counter. Keith emerged a moment later, his hands in the air as he made his way over.

Shane and Colton intercepted him, disarmed him and brought him to Dale.

“You’re gonna be our vanguard,” Dale told the man. “You know what that means?”

“Means I go out front.”

“That’s right. And any of your buddies tries anything dumb and we waste him, then you. We’re only here to find out where you’ve taken Sandy.” Dale slung the shotgun and removed his Ruger. He fell in behind Keith, wrapping his thick forearm around the deputy’s neck. The two of them then walked into the main office, Colton, Shane and Duke following close behind.

The room was dimly lit, lined with two rows of desks running parallel to one another. On the eastern and western walls were small glassed-in offices. Presumably one of those belonged to Sheriff Gaines. Two pale faces stared back at them from out of the gloom, partially hidden by the clutter around them.

“We didn’t come here to kill you,” Dale tried to assure them. “Although I’ve got every right to with how you’ve been treating me and my family. You tell us what you’ve done with Sandy and we’ll be on our way.”

One of the deputies started to say something when the door behind Dale swung open, revealing a deputy who had just arrived. He raised his pistol and prepared to fire.

“Get him, Duke,” was the only thing Dale had time to say. In a flash, the dog leapt at the deputy, clamping his jaws around the hand with the weapon and shaking violently until he let it go. Duke released him as Shane moved in, scooped up the gun and trained it on him as the man clutched his wounded arm.

Perhaps sensing they were outgunned, the two deputies stepped out of the darkness with their hands in the air.

“Smart men,” Dale said. “Now where is she?”

“We don’t know,” one of them said.

Dale brought the pistol up, aiming it at the center of his chest.

“But he does.”

The line from the deputy’s finger pointed directly at Keith. Dale swung Keith around and hit him in the face with the pistol. Blood gushed from Keith’s nose. “What’d you do that for?”

“For lying,” Dale said. “Do it again, and we’ll see how long it takes Duke here to finish you off.”

All eyes turned to Duke, who bared his teeth and let out a menacing growl.

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K
eith proved a tougher nut to crack than Dale had originally thought. Keith was tied to a chair. Duke’s snout was between Keith’s legs, the dog’s teeth slowly applying pressure.

“The sheriff’s got her,” Keith said, his eyes watering. “But I don’t know where.”

“Two hundred and thirty-eight, Keith,” Dale told him. “Any idea what that number stands for?”

Keith shook his head. The other deputies seated next to him were also tied to chairs. They knew if Keith failed to answer and lost his manhood, they might be next.

“It’s the bite force in pounds of pressure exerted by a German Shepherd. But right now Duke’s only exerting a fraction of that power. He’s waiting on a command, Keith. I utter a single word and he’ll give it everything he has.”

“The TV plant,” the deputy said, not needing any more convincing.

“Good, now we’re getting somewhere. How many men does he have with him?”

Tears rolled down Keith’s cheeks. “Five, maybe more.”

“Release,” Dale ordered Duke, who let go and moved next to Dale. In his pocket was a treat which he gave the dog as a reward.

Just then a shortwave came to life in the other room. “Base, this is the sheriff. We’re hearing gunshots. What’s going on over there?”

Dale, Shane and Colton each exchanged a look.

The sheriff’s voice came again, this time more forcefully. He was nervous and Dale could hear it dripping from his voice like honey in the hot sun.

“Help me with this,” Dale said to Shane as he grabbed the back of the chair Keith was tied to and leaned it back. They then dragged the deputy over to the radio. Dale grabbed the mic with one hand and held his pistol with the other.

“You’re gonna speak to him now,” he instructed, laying out what he wanted the deputy to say.

Keith looked unsure, until he saw Duke walk into view. The two locked eyes.

“Okay,” he stammered. “Just keep that thing away from me.”

Dale held the mic up to Keith’s lips and the gun to his forehead. “Think long and hard before you speak.”

Dale activated the mic.

“Everything’s fine here, Sheriff,” Keith said.

There was a pause. “You sure? We heard shots.”

“Dale Hardy came by and started shooting up the place.”

“He did?” Randy didn’t sound surprised. “Where’d he go?”

Keith swallowed hard as Dale pressed the barrel into the flesh of his forehead.

“He’s dead.”

“Really? You sure?”

“I shot him myself.”

Randy laughed. “That’s great. In one swoop you just solved half our problem. Go give yourself double rations tonight.”

Sweat rolled down the sides of Keith’s face. “Roger that.”

Dale tossed the mic back toward the shortwave. A box next to it was filled with Wagon Wheels, the chocolate, marshmallow and graham cracker treat kids went crazy for. He took two and placed them in Keith’s lap.

“What’s this?” the deputy asked.

“Your double rations.”

“What should we do with these guys?” Colton asked, waving his pistol at the deputies tied up before him.

“When a man’s shooting, you kill him dead,” Dale told his nephew. “But I’m not cold-blooded and neither are the two of you.”

“The factory’s not far from here,” a nervous-sounding Shane told them. “For all we know Randy could be sending guys to check out Keith’s story.”

Dale’s eyes went to the rifle in Shane’s hands, which hadn’t fired a single round. He wondered if his little brother could do it when the time came. “Then we need to hurry.”

They headed back to the pickup, moving fast, scanning the darkness for any sign of Randy’s deputies. Peeking over the tops of the homes was the roof of the nearby factory. That was where he’d find Sandy and hopefully get his chance to even the score.

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T
hey navigated the dark road leading to the plant by moonlight. Dale knew the truck’s headlights would only give away their approach and provide the enemy with an easy target. Like before, he pulled the truck over so they could make the rest of the journey by foot. He watched as the factory grew larger in the dim light, their weapons ready, not sure what to expect. Without Walter to give them a proper plan of attack, Dale would need to improvise on the fly and hope for the best.

The beam from a flashlight up ahead stopped them dead in their tracks. There was someone there and it looked like they were keeping watch.

“Seems they believed what Keith told them,” Colton whispered.

His nephew was right. If they suspected a lie, they probably would have descended immediately on the sheriff’s office.

Their guard was still up, but Randy’s men weren’t on high alert, not anymore. Once the first shot was fired, all that would change.

The deputy standing watch stood near a pair of giant hangar doors.

“Not this way,” Dale warned them. He’d worked here for years and knew the place better than any of them. “If they’re expecting anyone to show, it’ll be through there. There’s a dock around the other side where the merchandise was loaded onto shipping trucks. That’s where we’ll get in.” He turned to Shane. “Any bets on where he’s holding her?”

“Could be a few places,” Shane said. “Lunch room, Reid’s office, conference area. Good news is all of them are on the second floor.”

Quietly, the four of them crept through the shrubs and past the juniper trees, the whole time holding parallel to the road that circled the plant. Once in place, they scanned for signs of Randy’s men before bolting from concealment.

They reached the loading bays and found the large overhead doors closed and locked from the inside. Next to that was a regular security door.

“What now?” Colton asked.

Shane peered around the corner. “I’ll tell you what. Looks like we’re out of luck.”

Fishing through his pocket, Dale came out with his key ring and ran his fingers over the base of each one like a blind person.

“The heck you doing?” his brother asked.

When Dale found what he was looking for, he slid it into the lock and turned.

Colton’s mouth dropped open. “Weren’t you supposed to hand your keys in when they fired you?”

“I was laid off,” Dale corrected him. “And the answer’s yes. I was supposed to hand these back in, but I guess I just never got around to it.”

Shane nodded. “You rebel. And here I was thinking you were such a good law-abiding citizen.”

They pulled open the door and found themselves in inky darkness. This time, Shane shoved a hand into his own pocket and produced a small pen light. He looked at his brother and smirked as he cupped the beam. “You’re not the only MacGyver in this family.”

While entering through the back door had kept up the element of surprise, it also hadn’t entirely solved their problem. The only access to the second story was via a staircase on the main factory floor, which meant that if any deputies were patrolling the area, they’d likely be spotted.

Dale and the others pushed on through the loading bay and past the warehouse area. Although most of the shelves were bare, some of them still bore flatscreen TVs of every size.

Shane killed his light as they drew near the factory floor. In the distance, they could hear the faint sound of voices.

“That must be them,” Colton said, pointing.

A new, louder voice from out of the darkness startled them. “Hey, you’re not allowed here.” One of the deputies had been leaning against the wall around the corner and just out of sight. A newly lit cigarette hung from his lips, a pistol in his hand. Faint threads of light bled in from the rooms above them. “Put your weapons down,” he shouted.

Dale started to comply as he squeezed his hand into a fist and pointed, a silent signal for Duke to attack. The dog sprang into action, lunging forward. The deputy’s attention swung to the right and that was when Dale pulled the trigger. The tiny alcove exploded with light and sound, illuminating the deputy’s chest as the buckshot tore through his flesh. His back struck the wall before he fell to the ground dead.