“They’re delayed,” JJ said. “It seems Sterling is blocked with landslides on each side of town. These are volunteers from Rescue.”
He grinned. “Probably better shots than the Feds, anyway.”
“I know, right?” Their town had a lot of hunters. She grinned. “I told them it’s open season on the pissers with no permits required.”
Hawk snorted.
The firing from the SUV area was diminishing. A rifle was flung out into the dirt. Then another.
Someone shouted, “I surrender!”
“Stop, please, stop!” another PZ yelled.
That did it. The PZs—the ones left alive—threw down their weapons.
Gunfire still came from the Hermitage and her troop. Her voice came out loud and piercing over the noise. “Ceasefire.”
The last shots stuttered to a halt.
Hawk nodded at her. “Looks like they’re all yours, Officer.”
“Damn.” So much for checking on Caz. She scowled at him. “No good deed goes unpunished.”
He huffed a laugh.
She sighed. Her troops, her command.
“Patriot Zealots, stand up with your hands on your head.” She glanced at Hawk and asked the question burning in her heart. “Is Caz okay?”
“Yeah. He took Frankie and the kids back to the Hermitage.”
“Oh good.” Her sigh of relief clogged in her throat. “Wait, what? The kids?”
Kit heard the shooting stop after someone—had that been JJ?—yelled for a ceasefire. Didn’t matter. Right now, she wanted to curl into a ball and shake. Maybe she also wanted some covers to pull over her head.
Only she needed to find Hawk.
Her hands clenched at another influx of worry. How badly was he hurt?
Thank heavens Aric was safe down in the tunnel.
Bull’s weight moved off her. “Stay down, Kit.” He stood with a low groan.
She’d felt him flinch right after they hit the ground. “Are you hurt?”
“Caught one in my back armor. Like you got in the front.” He scanned the area as he spoke. “We’ll both be sore tomorrow.”
The armor. Heavens, no wonder her shoulder hurt so bad. She’d been shot.
She lifted her head to watch the people following JJ down the road toward the SUVs. Huh, that was Tucker, wasn’t it? And Sarah’s husband?
“JJ.” Gabe came out of the bushes to meet his officer and slapped her shoulder in obvious approval. “Nice timing.”
“I think we’re good. Up you come.” Bull helped her up to her feet.
“Kit.” The gravelly growl made her heart bound. “Jesus, woman.” Hawk grabbed her and lifted her off her feet in a rib-crushing, breath-stealing embrace.
“Hawk.” Arms around his neck, she clung with all her might. “You’re alive. I was so worried.”
And she was shaking far harder now than she had been when shouting at Nabera.
“You’re wearing armor, thank Christ. I thought you were dead.” Hawk scowled at Bull accusingly. “Why the fuck were you in the kill zone?”
“Bro, she insisted—and she was right. The minute she appeared, Nabera forgot you even existed.” Anxiety filling his face, Bull gripped Hawk’s shoulder. “Is Frankie—”
“Fine. I sent her to Caz before nailing Nabera.”
Kit breathed out a sigh of relief. Her bestie was safe.
“Sugar.” Slowly, tenderly, Hawk kissed Kit, then rubbed his cheek against hers. And just held her.
It was what she needed. Everything she needed. She pressed even closer. He was alive.
His arms tightened as she clung to him. Eventually, she lifted her head. “Are you all right?”
“Bruises and cuts, nothing major.” With an unhappy sigh, he straightened and let her loose.
“I know. We have stuff to do,” she muttered.
“Yeah.” He eyed her. “I got good news and bad news.” He wore the same expression as Aric after he’d knocked over a newly seeded planter.
“What did you do?”
“Me? Nothing.” His eyes crinkled with mischief. “Your son, though…”
Chapter Thirty-One
The only redemptive feature of war is the brotherhood which it forges. ~ Max Hastings
Finally released by the Fed who’d interviewed him, Hawk headed toward his house.
The entire area outside the Hermitage still crawled with state troopers, FBI agents, and first responders. Damned if cleanup wasn’t taking longer than the battle. Would the talking ever end?
Jesus, he hurt. His head pounded like it’d been flattened under a Bradley tank. His ribs throbbed enough he would guess that the bastard Milo had kicked him a few times. His shoulders ached. And his gut and wrists? He glanced at his blood-soaked sleeves and flannel shirt. At least the bleeding had stopped.
And he was alive and moving…unlike a lot of the PZs. Ambulances were still hauling away the wounded assholes. The state troopers had taken charge of the rest.
Hawk felt like he’d been out here for days, but past the floodlights, it was still night. The moon had been blotted out by black clouds. Carried on the rising breeze, the air stank of gunpowder, sweat—and death, and all he wanted to do was escape.
“Yeah, that PZ guy’s in really bad shape.” A medic was telling a state trooper as Hawk walked past. “My partner’s watching him till an ambulance returns.”
Hawk sighed, then turned. “Got a plane. I can fly—”
“No mames, güey. No, you cannot.” Caz’s voice came from behind.
Hawk turned, feeling relief. The Fed had said that none of the Hermitage group was seriously wounded, but hearing wasn’t seeing.
Lines of exhaustion showed in Caz’s brush-scratched face. But none of the blood on his clothing appeared to be his.
Hawk glanced at the medic, then Caz. “Bro. The floatplane’s—”
“No.” Caz threw his hands up in open exasperation. “Can you say concussion? You were unconscious. You fly nowhere until I say otherwise.”
Next to the state trooper, the Soldotna first responder tilted his head at Caz and told Hawk, “What he said. A crash landing doesn’t improve anyone’s health.”
“Fine.” To be honest, he was exhausted. “In that case, got anything for a headache?”
Caz’s grin flashed. “Come, ’mano. I was looking for you anyway.”
They went through the garage into Caz’s house and out onto his deck. Audrey was there, sitting next to a table with an assortment of medical shit.
“Hawk!” Over on Bull’s deck next door, Aric scrambled off Frankie’s lap.
Worry stabbed at Hawk, sharp as a stiletto. Kit should be with her son. “Where’s Kit?” Had she been hurt worse than he thought?
“She’s fine.” Frankie smiled. “She’s still being questioned by some Feds.”
Hawk nodded his thanks for the info, then bent to catch the incoming rocket of a kid. His head throbbed in pain, his ribs stabbed, and damn, it still felt like he’d had a belt of pure happiness. “Hey, Aric.”
Caz sat down and pointed to the wider deck chair. The one he called a loveseat. “Sit.”