LITMIR.BIZ

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she believed that. “I don’t have anything.”

      He ignored that and reached for her again.

      Sammy growled menacingly but remained still. He was too well-trained to attack without a command from her.

      Laurel knew she could take down the intruder. Ranger training had honed the already formidable skills she’d earned courtesy of the US Army. She twisted out of his reach and spun, kicking with her right leg and catching him in the chest cavity. The grunt of pain told her she’d made serious contact. Good.

      He went down. Hard.

      “Sammy, now.”

      Despite having only three legs, Sammy attacked, fastening his jaw around the man’s ankle.

      The man yelped. “Get him off me.”

      “Sammy, enough.”

      Sammy released his hold on the man.

      She glared at her would-be assailant. “Stay still or you’ll see what he can really do.”

      While he figured out that he wasn’t getting away, Laurel did some thinking of her own. If she waited for the police, she’d be letting herself in for prolonged questioning. It didn’t take much to surmise that the man belonged to the Collective and wanted the money and the ledger. Though she didn’t understand the meaning of the coded numbers listed in it, she knew instinctively she couldn’t let him have it.

      Laurel pulled her weapon and held it on the man. “Sammy, watch.”

      With her other hand, she fished through his pockets, found a pair of handcuffs—had he planned on using them on her?—and a set of keys. When she pressed the key fob, a beep from a nearby truck identified it as his. She marched him to the vehicle.

      “Open the driver’s and back doors, then put the right cuff on.” After he did so, she slipped the empty cuff through the exposed frame, clicked the second manacle around his other wrist and secured him there.

      He struggled against the restraint, all the while spewing a stream of venom. Mean eyes glittered with hate. “This ain’t over.”

      “You’re right. It ain’t. But you are.”

      The brief exchange sent her thoughts in a different direction. What if her career with the Rangers was over as a result of the injury she’d sustained while deployed?

      She’d meticulously constructed her life, a result of her chaotic childhood. A need to put order to everything had driven her first to the Army, then the Rangers. There, she’d found the first real home she’d ever known. Being part of something bigger than herself gave her life purpose.

      If she couldn’t be a Ranger any longer, she feared her life would lose its meaning.

      Nothing she could do about it now. At the moment, she was running for her life. There’d be time enough to worry over the future.

      Whispers of pink streaked the sky as she headed out of town on a narrow road of chewed-up asphalt. She put a call in to the local police, gave the location of the storage unit and reported the man as a burglar.

      Outside one of the small towns that dotted the backwoods road, she found a coffee shop that advertised free Wi-Fi. Though she was anxious to be on her way, she booted up her laptop. First, she contacted a friend at the DOJ and asked for any information he had on the Collective.

      His answer came swiftly. Stay out of their way.

      She typed back. Too late.

      Okay, but you asked for it.

      Page after page of text filled her screen. She dug out a thumb drive and copied the information to it.

      Next she ran a search on S&J Security/Protection of Atlanta, Georgia. Articles about the firm were abundant, as were mentions of Jake Rabb and Shelley Rabb Judd and their emphasis on hiring ex-military and police personnel as operatives.

      Laurel did some quick calculations in her head, taking in the date on the picture and the probable current ages of the Rabb brother and sister. Could it be? Did she have a half-brother and half-sister?

      The idea filled her with such longing that tears stung her eyes. In the lonely years growing up, she’d prayed for a sister or brother, someone to laugh with, to cry with. The possibility that she had both a brother and a sister revived that childhood dream. If only...

      She put away the wishful thinking and turned her attention to the practical. She was going to have to do something she hated, something that stuck in her craw like having to bow and scrape to a smarmy politician: she was going to have to ask for help. She texted the contact number for S&J Security/Protection, gave a bullet point explanation of her situation, adding that she was a Ranger in the States on medical leave. When a reply came within minutes saying that an S&J operative, an ex-Ranger no less, would meet her, she knew she was on the right track.

      With a to-go mug of coffee and a bottle of water for Sammy’s bowl, Laurel left the shop and started on her way once more. The road climbed, an easy ascent until it reached the ridge. From there, the ribbon of asphalt narrowed, twisting and looping back and forth on itself like a sidewinder as it gradually descended.

      As she rounded the curves, she thought she caught a glimpse of headlights in her rearview mirror. When the pinpricks of light didn’t appear again, she returned her focus to hugging the centerline of the road. Relief sighed through her when she reached the base of the valley and the road straightened out once more.

      The breath caught in her throat when she noticed a jacked-up truck with oversize wheels following close behind.

      Looked like she’d picked up a tail. The truck closed the distance between them until it was riding her bumper. Hard.

      Laurel refused to give way to the truck that was trying to run her off the road. She made out two men. If she let them send her into the ditch, she’d be at a distinct disadvantage. A grim smile touched her lips at the understatement.

      Rule one in combat: keep the upper hand.

      “Hold on, Sammy.”

      The German shepherd, who rode shotgun, woofed in response.

      She swerved, cutting off the truck’s attempt to come up on her right side.

      Despite its battered appearance, the truck had muscle behind it, and she had combat driving training on her side. She called upon every skill she had and slammed down the accelerator, rocketing ahead. She stepped on the gas and didn’t let up. As the speed increased, her breathing slowed, steadied.

      When she spotted a rutted road up ahead, nearly hidden by underbrush, she turned sharply, then held her breath when the truck passed in a tail of battered air and a boil of dust.

      She wasn’t one to waste time on self-congratulations, but she couldn’t hold back a fist pump in the air followed by a brief prayer of gratitude. A scripture flashed into her mind. If God be for us, who can be against us?

      Then it was back to business. The men would be back. What’s more, they undoubtedly had others in their network who would be coming after her as well. She was outmanned and outgunned.

      Laurel didn’t run from trouble—Rangers typically ran toward it—but she wasn’t foolhardy. Admitting that she needed help hadn’t been easy, but she was grateful that an S&J operative was on his way. She only hoped he arrived in time.

      * * *

      Mace Ransom nosed into a parking spot at the mom-and-pop grocery store and waited for the client to show up. He climbed out of the truck and leaned against the fender. Anticipation sent adrenaline pumping through him as he replayed his boss’s words in his mind.

      We’ve got a new client who’s found herself on the wrong side of the Collective. Laurel Landry. She needs backup, and she needs it now. Shelley Rabb Judd, founder and co-owner of S&J Security/Protection, had rattled off a name and directions to the meeting spot. By the

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