Her heart racing, Sierra realized she never would have gotten any closer to the house if whoever was in that FBI car hadn’t arrived right then. The Deltas had been watching, waiting…they would’ve stopped her in a heartbeat.
This was her chance. Probably her only chance to get inside.
It was insane. Completely crazy. And there was a chance Grover would never forgive her for what she was about to do. She knew he still felt guilty about not rescuing her sooner, no matter what she or any therapist said. He might consider her actions today a betrayal of the huge sacrifice he’d made for her in Afghanistan. He’d gotten himself taken captive, tortured, only to have Sierra throw herself in the middle of a situation that could ultimately get her and Grover both killed.
But she couldn’t get over the thought that if Grover died here today, and she did nothing to try to help, her life would essentially be over.
She couldn’t live with herself if she sat around twiddling her thumbs while his life was on the line. Maybe the Sierra she’d been before she was taken captive could’ve left Grover’s rescue to the professionals, but she wasn’t that person anymore. She’d changed.
If she and Grover got out of this in one piece, and he was so pissed at her that he couldn’t forgive her…so be it. At least he’d be alive. It would hurt not being with him, but she could at least go on, knowing he was still living and breathing.
Her mind made up, Sierra studied the area one more time. She could see at least three officers using trees as cover. There was another man standing beside the barn as well, his rifle pointed toward Grover’s house. She suspected the front and sides were equally well-covered. There was no way the militia members would be able to get out of the house alive.
At that thought, Sierra frowned. Taking Grover hostage in his house made no sense. The militia had to know they’d be trapped. That once word got out about what happened, the house would be fully surrounded.
She didn’t know who had alerted the police or military to the situation…but a tight ball of dread formed in her belly.
Even her captors back in Afghanistan had been careful not to trap themselves inside the houses where she’d been kept before moving her to the mountain prison. So why in the hell would the Strong Foot Militia barricade themselves inside a house? It made no sense to—
Sierra’s racing thoughts screeched to a halt.
Unless they had no intention of giving up.
Unless they wanted to die.
Shit.
She needed to move. Needed to get to Grover.
Once she broke free from the cover of the grass, there would be no way to hide what she was doing. Any number of things could go wrong, but she hoped she’d have a short head start, since the officers’ eyes were glued on the house, not on the land surrounding it. The last thing they’d expect was for someone to try to get in, instead of out. She had to be fast enough to stay out of reach, to get inside the house before they could tackle her. She was counting on it, in fact.
At any time, Trigger and the others could finish their conversation with the FBI and head back to their positions around the house. She had to move.
Mentally counting down from three—when Sierra got to one, she sprang into action, running as fast as she could toward the back door of Grover’s house.
The officers spotted her almost immediately, yelling at her to stop. But she wasn’t going to turn around now. No way.
She let out a screech of fright when the first gunshot went off.
She half-expected to feel pain blossom in her chest, but when she didn’t, she kept running.
As if that first shot had broken the ice, what sounded like war broke out all around her.
The militia members in the house were shooting out the windows—but surprisingly, it didn’t seem as if they were aiming at her. They’d turned their weapons on the men and women stationed around the house. Several had broken cover to yell at her, giving away their positions, and two gave chase, from what she could tell by her peripheral vision as she ran.
They quickly changed course, the militia itself holding them off with their gunfire.
Sierra had no idea why no one was shooting at her. She guessed she was probably a lot less threatening—a lone woman, wearing civilian clothes, not carrying any obvious weapons. She was a lesser target than someone armed to the teeth.
Shockingly, the militia had done her a favor. They’d kept the police from reaching her. From tackling and keeping her from her objective…namely, getting in the house.
More scared than she’d been since her first night in captivity in Afghanistan, Sierra ran straight up onto the deck, making sure to keep her hands up to show she was unarmed. She’d managed to get this far; she wasn’t going to mess up now. She had one chance to make this work—and even she thought it was a long shot.
Chapter Twenty
“What the fuck?” one of the men standing in his living room exclaimed.
Everyone nearby turned to see what had alarmed the man.
Grover’s heart stopped—and he watched in disbelief as Sierra ran onto the back deck.
He had no idea where the hell she’d come from, who the hell had allowed her to get so damn close to the house, but he was pissed as fuck!
He opened his mouth to scream at her to run, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“Let me in! I’m with you guys!” she yelled. “I’ve been watching you for weeks and I want to join!”
Grover blinked in surprise. What the hell was she doing?
Cory pushed his way through three men who were standing at the sliding door, staring stupidly through the glass at Sierra. The men upstairs were still firing at whoever was in the backyard, not allowing anyone to get near enough to Sierra to pull her back.
Cory pointed his automatic rifle at her through the glass. “Get the fuck out of here!” he yelled.
“No, listen!” she insisted. “I hate the military! They ruined my life! I’m not lying. My name is Sierra Clarkson. Google me, you’ll see I’m telling the truth! Please let me in!”
Fuck!
Grover knew immediately that Cory would do it. Let her in. Bring her into this fucked-up situation.
He wanted to scream in frustration and rage. But he kept silent.
The last place he wanted her to be was inside this house.
He knew it was too late. She’d already piqued Cory’s interest. She’d have to continue with whatever insane plan she had.
She was lying about wanting to join the militia. He had no doubt whatsoever about that. He remembered only too well how she’d manipulated her captors back in Afghanistan. She’d gotten them to do exactly as she wanted, with no clue they were puppets on her string. Was she hoping to do the same here?
This wasn’t the desert, and Cory wasn’t Shahzada. This could go wrong a thousand different ways. He knew she thought she was helping, but she wasn’t. She’d just made the situation so much worse—because now it was personal for him. If one hair on her head was hurt, he’d completely lose it.
“It’s her!” Alan exclaimed.
Grover had already memorized all the names of the men around him. He’d been learning everything he could about them, in fact, in the hopes he could use that knowledge against them at some point.
“Look,” Alan told Luis as he showed him his phone. “She’s still got the shaved head and everything.”