All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I have no medical, law enforcement or military experience, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests.
Steph huddled underneath the Kevlar blanket on the back seat of the battered crew cab truck, her legs tucked underneath her as she happily munched on the last Boston Crème. The bag of fried fat and sugar goodness had magically appeared under the edge of the blanket after they stopped at a convenience store slash gas station to top off the gas tank. Neither Ram or Manny admitted to who exactly was responsible for the contraband, but since neither one took her up on the offer of sharing the rolls, Steph wasn't going to rat them out.
Popping the last piece into her mouth, Steph savored the mixture of firm dough and creamy filling, chewing it slowly with the care of someone who didn't know when her next one was going to be. So far the Merry Men had been stubbornly close mouthed about where they were headed next, and whether or not she would need her passport. Instead, they'd conversed in low voices as Manny drove through residential streets and empty gravel roads with only dry grass in the ditches to wave as they went by.
A bottle of water appeared under the edge of the blanket. "Want to wash those down, Bomber?"
"Thanks," she said, taking the bottle from Ram and twisting the cap off. "Is it safe for me to come out yet?"
There was a pause as she drank, no doubt due to the their doing the silent ESP thing, debating whether or not they'd lost the pursuit or were in danger of picking up more. Just as she put the cap back on the bottle, the blanket lifted and fresh air billowed underneath it.
The world outside the broken windows of the truck wasn't the same. Sometime between the gas station and now, Manny had left behind the semi-urban environment around the turnpike and found the rural country. The sun slanted in the west, gilding the trees and the sky in red gold. Windbreaks and farmland with an occasional barn and house were about the only things the sun found to touch. There were no other cars on the road, and the wind through the back window had a lonely sound to it.
Steph scooted up so she could rest her arms on the back of the front seat, away from that wind and the chill it raised against her skin. "Where are we?"
"Not Kansas," Ram drawled, "so your little dog is safe."
She gasped and the Merry Men went instantly on alert. "Rex! How could I have forgotten Rex? Oh my God, my poor baby! What—"
Manny laughed, a rich, hearty sound that boomed through the cab. "Ella, Bomber. As soon as the dust settled, she packed your clothes and took the little guy back to Haywood. She also called your family and explained that you would be out of touch for a while on RangeMan business."
"Oh, thank God," said Steph, slouching down. "Except for the part about calling my mom. I'm pretty sure my cell phone is blowing up."
Ram patted her arm. "Hector can switch your number over to Ranger's phone, once we're in the air. Then you can call your family and let them know what's going on. We'll have Hector route it through some of his proxies so it can't be traced back to our location."
"Oh, that's something I'll look forward to," Steph said glumly, slouching a little more. If she called her mother, that meant she had to call Joe, and she was pretty sure neither of those conversations was going to be productive or enjoyable. Given the amount of destruction left in her wake, she was also really sure that the police station had finally run out of money in the perpetual betting pool due to all the payouts.
Ram shifted in his seat, glancing down when his phone buzzed. "We'll back you up, Bomber. And if your mom needs a note from Uncle Sam, I think we can swing that, too."
"I hope Ella has a good recipe for pineapple upside down cake, 'cause my mom is going to cut me off for the rest of my life." Steph sighed, not the long-suffering sound of a daughter who couldn't measure up to her mother's standards, but the resigned sound of a woman who'd made some hard choices in life.
And would do it all over again, just the same way.
Manny glanced at his partner. "They shake free yet?"
"Yeah," Ram said, reading off the screen. From where she was sitting, Steph could see the message block but not the words. "Brown is riding lights and sirens and the chase cars peeled off to see if anyone would bite. So far they've taken out three, but there's always the chance more are waiting to pick them up later in the route."
"Cops get the assholes shooting at us?"
He shook his head. "Nothing yet, but Lester has Vince reaching out to his contacts with the state police. Kind of giving them a head's up that this is part of the same case as Trenton so they aren't thinking they're dealing with the start of a turf war or mass killing."
Steph shivered, cold with the thought of what it would be like if the explosions and shootings had happened in the heart of the Burg instead of on the edges where Vinnie's office had been. The cold become a frozen hand wrapped around her heart as she realized that the damage might not have been confined to just the bail bond office.
"Did—were there any other people hurt when they hit the office?"
The guys exchanged another glance, and Steph's shoulders squared. "Other than Lula and Connie. Were there other people—innocent bystanders—who were hurt?"
"No, Steph," said Manny seriously. The cut on his scalp had quit bleeding, and the heavy red line showed plainly through his short dark hair. "There were minor injuries after the fact to people not obeying the police or fire department, but nothing major."
She chewed on that information for a moment, her mind going over both the explosion from the street and the encounter in the parking lot with the young gang member. A frown creased her forehead as Steph replayed it, trying to piece together both the direct confrontation as well as the twin shots that had taken him down. Steph opened her mouth to ask a question, then stopped and shut it again.
"Something bothering you?" Ram asked.
Steph shook her head. "Maybe. I don't know. I think I need to sit down and sketch out what I remember, so I don't forget the important details. I'm sure the police will need my statement for the investigation into the gangs, right?'
"Sure, Steph," said Ram, agreeing too quickly by half. Her frown deepened, but when he looked over his shoulder at her, she smoothed it out and gave him a faint smile. Her spidey sense was going into overdrive again, and she put aside the recent past in favor of making it through the next hour and reaching Ranger.
No doubt once he's up and about, the bad guys will remember that it's not healthy to go up against RangeMan. We should be back home within the week, tops.
Ram's phone buzzed and he checked it again, his breath hissing out as he read the message. "They're in the air. Brown estimates about forty minutes to the next stop. Are we still in the window?"
"Ten minutes inside," said Manny, checking his watch. "I figure we're about thirty from the airfield."
"Got it." Ram punched that information into the phone and waited until the reply came back. "Okay, Steph. We have the go from Brown. We're going to quit driving around in circles and start heading north towards a small airfield. The runway is big enough for the jet and we can use the hangar to park the cars."
"So what do I need to do?" Steph asked. After the hours of letting Ranger and the Merry Men take the lead, it was a relief to be able to do something more than cower and wait. She wanted to do more, and even though her injuries still hurt every time she moved, she was ready.
"Follow our lead," said Manny.
Ram pocketed his phone and hooked an arm over the back of the seat. "What he means to say is that we'll plan to pull into the airfield just as the jet touches down. We'll meet it near the hangar, park the truck and board. Once everyone is set, we'll take off again."
"Simple as that," Steph said as she brushed some crumbs off her t-shirt and wished that she had time to shower, brush her teeth and change. No doubt Ranger wouldn't notice that she was looking the worse for wear, but it was a point of pride that she didn't have to look like a complete disaster.
"It should be," Ram said in agreement. He tugged on one of her straightened blonde locks. "Relax. There will be plenty of room for all of us and the flight crew is the best Bobby can hire. We should be at our destination within twenty-four hours, so by this time tomorrow you'll be snuggling down into a real bed."
She thought about her own bed, getting farther and farther away, and then put it out of her mind.
I would sleep out in the woods on the cold ground if it meant Ranger was getting better. Hell, I'd volunteer to stay at a place with no running water if that was what it took.
"Can't ask for more than a good memory foam mattress and luxury sheets," she said, giving Ram an impish grin that probably looked more Bride of Frankenstein than Shirley Temple. "You guys ready to tell me where we're going, or does it still need to be a surprise? 'Cause I promise, I can act surprised if I have to."
"Sorry, can't. Only the core team can reveal the location, and only when at least two agree on the necessity," said Ram. "So you'll have to wait until we get on the jet. Then if Ranger is awake, he can be the second one and Bobby can tell you. No backing out though, right?"
"No backing out," she said, agreeing with both the words and the sentiment. Ranger and his men didn't drop her in the middle of a mess, and she wasn't going to fail them. Not for the first time, she wondered what a bunch of ex-military, scarily experienced guys were doing with an ex-lingerie buyer trying to do a job she wasn't qualified for. But even on her worst days, she was grateful that they honored her with their friendship as completely as they had.
Ram tweaked her hair again and turned back in his seat. He reached underneath it, muttering under his breath when whatever he was looking for seemed to be wedged. Finally he pulled out a flat black hard case with a numerical lock on it. Using his fingernail, Ram spun the cylinders until the last one clicked into place and the latch opened.
The inside of it was black foam, the kind Steph had seen often in Hector's workroom back on Haywood. Most of the time he kept security systems and other delicate electronic gadgets in the form-fitting cushions. Once or twice, Steph remembered him closing a case on his workbench when she ventured into his inner sanctum, along with a shake of his head that indicated she wasn't supposed to see what he was working on.
Ram wasn't as shy about cracking the case and showing her exactly what was nestled into the different slots. They were black, but in the evening light Steph could at least make out the earpieces and throat mikes that the backup teams wore outside the building when she was doing a distraction. While Steph usually wore a wire only because the earpiece was too obvious, she'd seen them often enough to know what they were.
A hot flash went through her as she remembered the one time she'd been feeling playful after Ranger drove her home from a distraction a few months ago. Once he parked by the door in her lot, Steph surprised him by climbing over the center console of his Porsche. Ever quick to react, Ranger immediately moved his seat back to give her room for whatever she chose to do. Bracing her hands on his broad shoulders as her knees nestled on either side of his legs, she helpfully removed his earpiece and mike.
With her teeth.
And at least three detours before she finished the job. Completely.
Wisely, Ram chose to ignore her blush and concentrated instead on fishing the miniaturized electronics out of their case. He offered them to her in the palm of his hand, waiting until Steph picked them up before going back for Manny's.
Steph held the pieces up close, squinting a little as she tried to figure out which ear it was supposed to go in. The guys always wore them left, but she didn't know if that was because they were made to go in the left or because the right was the dominant ear.
"Left, Bomber," Ram said, handing Manny's equipment to him while he drove. "Mike goes against your larynx."
Steph adjusted it accordingly, then threaded the connecting cord underneath her shirt and bra to hold it in place. That left the question of what it was going to plug into.
"Hand me Ranger's phone for a minute," said Ram, and she dug it out of the hoodie pocket.
He checked the battery power on it and then punched in the password suspiciously fast. As his large fingers danced over the touch screen, Steph leaned forward over the seat again.
"Does everybody but me know what Ranger's password is?"
"I don't know it," said Manny, "but I could probably figure it out given enough time."
Her eyes swung to Ram and he coughed into his hand, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out. "I knew it was either your birthday or your measurements, and Ranger isn't the kind of man who needs to remind himself of those last numbers."
There wasn't anything she could say to that, so Steph sat back again as Ram finished up with the phone. He handed it over the seat, his gaze swinging out the broken back window and sticking to a point directly behind them.
"Someone back there?" Steph asked, twisting around to see.
"Get down," said Ram, and she ducked immediately, burrowing under the Kevlar blanket with the speed of someone who had done this way too many times in the last four days.
Lying on the seat, Steph fumbled with the end of the cord and plugged it into the jack of Ranger's smart phone. Static crackled in her ear, then cleared as she heard voices she didn't recognize coming across the channel.
"Chase 1 coming in. ETA five minutes. No hostiles."
"Chase 3 peeling off. Can't shake the two on our tail. Heading back to Philly for reinforcements."
Then Manny's voice double echoed, once in her earpiece and the other time in the cab. "Chase 9 wired and online. Heading back to Trenton to lay low. Going to ground at Level 1 safe house with all systems engaged. Will switch cars at service plaza on expressway."
The truck kept going, bumping over the gravel road and kicking up a reasonable amount of dust behind it. Steph peered underneath the edge of the blanket, listening and keeping herself quiet, watching Ram scan the horizon behind them as Manny rested a hand on the top of the steering wheel and kept driving in the same direction.
Hector's voice came over the channel. As usual he was talking faster than she could follow, but she didn't miss the fist bump between Manny and Ram in the front seat.
Carefully, she unhooked the cord from the phone so she wouldn't interrupt Hector. "What's going on? I'm not going back to Trenton."
"No, you're not. And we're not." Manny glanced in the rear-view mirror. "Even though we know who was leaking our inside info, we still need to start peeling off the ground troops after us here. So we're using a compromised frequency to move them into place for our teams to take them out."
"How many of them are out there?"
He shrugged. "Hopefully not so many that I have to use all of the ammo in my clips to get you guys on the jet."
The truck went silent again, and Steph plugged her earpiece back into the phone so she could hear the rest, settling beneath the Kevlar blanket even as her heart rate sped up again.
The communication channel went quiet as well, with only an occasional transmission from what sounded like the pilot of the jet. Most of the chatter was in terms she didn't understand, but it was comforting to know that she was closer to seeing Ranger again, and it would be only a few minutes before they would be taking off into the darkening night sky for an unknown destination.
The truck slowed, but Steph resisted the urge to sit up. She stayed still, her fingers clenched tight, the adrenaline coursing through her body. Manny turned to the left and rolled to a stop.
Steph tensed. The wind had strengthened even more as the sun went down, whispering through the broken back window and curling colder tendrils under the edge of the blanket. Clad still in the jeans and the hoodie borrowed from Eirene's salon, she shivered and hugged herself a little tighter to stay warm.
"Hola," said Manny, and Steph held her breath, listening and waiting.
"Hola," came Hector's voice from outside the truck. The vehicle dipped a little, accompanied by a soft thud in the bed of the truck. Then she heard Woody's distinctive laugh and the truck dipped again. Rustling and the chime of broken glass was followed by a whispered curse from Woody as Manny started the truck rolling forward again.
"Estefania?"
She lifted the corner of the blanket, just enough that she could turn her head and see the back window. A dark shape silhouetted against the sky reached through the broken glass and she hissed, about to warn Hector about the shards that hadn't fallen out yet. He paused, then used his elbow to knock them into the bed. His hand came through the window, reaching out to her for reassurance.
Steph took his hand without hesitation, feeling in the way he wrapped his fingers around hers all of the worry and concern that Hector couldn't tell her in a language she understood. She squeezed back, trying to put all of the reassurance that she could into the motion.
Another shadow blocked the rest of the back window. "You okay, darlin'? These jokers taking good care of you?"
"The safe house wasn't my fault," she said. "Manny was looking at the same feed I was. The frying pan fell off the counter and ignited the gas."
Woody laughed softly. "Frying pan? Do I want to know?"
"It was cast iron," Manny said over his shoulder. "I made breakfast."
The amusement cut off abruptly. There was a moment of silence before Woody broke it, his voice strangely hoarse.
"Pancakes?"
"French toast," said Ram with definite relish in his voice.
The groans from both Woody and Hector were the heartfelt sounds of men who knew exactly what they had missed. A little imp of the perverse prompted Steph to grin even though they couldn't see it and squeeze Hector's hand before releasing it.
"It was really good," she said, "with blueberry syrup and real sausage."
"That's cruel, Bombshell," Woody said. "Now I'll have that stuck in my brain."
Hector reached back and slapped him across the back of his head. He said something in Spanish that had both Ram and Manny laughing, and even though she didn't understand the words, Steph understood the gesture. She'd seen it used on Lester way too many times. Knowing Woody and how much time he'd spent with Ranger's cousin, the sharp slap probably wouldn't work.
Ram touched his index finger to his earpiece. "Got another one. The fucker tried to run Tank off the road."
"Tank?" This time Steph did pop up, only to be pushed back down by both Hector and Woody. She didn't struggle, but she did grab the edge of the Kevlar blanket so they couldn't smother her in it. "When did Tank get back?"
"Around noon," Ram said, "after he put some things into motion in D.C. and called in some favors. The guys working chase are under contract to RangeMan, but most of them were hand picked from people we've worked with before. Their handlers gave them emergency leave so they could hunt down these bastards. Those in the country legally will be turned over to the FBI. The ones in violation of their visas or here without prior clearance will disappear until they give up their employers."
"Good," Steph muttered as she settled on the seat. There were some scraping sounds in the bed as Hector and Woody made themselves comfortable amongst the glass shards and broken plastic from the bed liner. Neither one complained, at least not out loud, and Manny waited until they were settled before pushing the truck a little faster.
Even though she couldn't see anything from her position on the back seat, Steph could still hear, both through the earpiece and her other ear. Soft sounds, identifiable as Woody and Hector reloading their personal firearms and Ram following suit in the front seat, drifted to her on the cooling air.
Then she heard the most welcome sound in the world: the faint growl of a small jet that grew steadily louder.
Ram stuck his head out the window, searching the sky for the navigation lights. Manny flicked off both the headlights and the dashboard lights so they were riding in darkness broken only by the faint sunset glow still visible on the horizon. Steph concentrated on breathing deeply, relaxing her muscles as she prepared for the chaos that would no doubt erupt soon enough.
"Got it?" Manny asked.
"Yep, got it. Looks like Brown hit the jackpot." Ram started laughing softly. "He's coming in hot like this is Baghdad International. Better get yourself into position or you'll be playing catch up."
"No way." The cushion sighed as Manny shifted his weight. "Damn. I thought he'd circle at least once on his way in."
"Doesn't look like it. Can you get more speed out of this junk heap?"
The engine whined as Manny pushed it harder. "I'm gonna have to, unless you learned how to run faster."
Steph's hand crept underneath the seat again, her fingers wrapping around the steel frame where it bolted to the floor. She didn't think belting in would be necessary; with Hector and Woody riding unprotected in the bed, Manny wasn't likely to go off any embankments again.
"Okay, he's on approach," Ram said. "Woody, Hector, head's up. The pilot said he spotted two vehicles waiting near the end of the runway with their lights off. Could be nothing or it could be more of our fan club. We might have to exit quick."
Her heart pounded in her chest at that, so hard that Steph pressed the heel of her free hand against her rib cage to keep the traitorous organ inside. She could hear the transmissions on the channel through her earpiece, but the words weren't registering in her brain. All she could think of was Ranger and Bobby and the other RangeMen in the jet descending out of the sky, and the enemies who waited like wolves in the night, gathered for the attack.
The channel in her ear burst into a babble of voices. She gripped the seat frame as the truck sped up and threw her in three directions at once as it bumped across the airfield. Both Woody and Hector were swearing as they tried to hold on without exposing themselves above the edge of the bed, and Manny cursed in the front seat as he tried to get into position before the incoming jet landed.
"Ram! You take Bomber and get her on that jet." Manny's voice broke through the chaos. "Hector, Woody—when I slow down, bail. Cover Ram until Steph is on board, then get your tails up those stairs. You hear me?"
Steph clawed back the blanket, moving before she could think twice about the wisdom of doing it. Her only thought was to get to Manny and shake some sense into him, or at least make it clear that she was not going to let him carry through with his plan to the fiery end.
"Steph, get down!"
"No!" She clamped down on his shoulder, her fingers digging into the tendons hard enough to make him wince. "You do not get to sacrifice yourself. No heroics, Manuel Ramos, or I swear I will turn that jet around myself and beat you into a pulp."
"Steph, sweetie—"
She leaned in close, her teeth bared like a tigress in full fury. "You promise me right now, Manny. Promise me you'll be on the jet when it takes off."
He didn't answer right away, turning his head just a little to meet her furious gaze. His eyes flicked towards Ram, and Steph held up a finger in that direction, warning the other Merry Man that she wasn't going to take any manhandling sitting down.
Manny sighed. "Fine, Steph. I promise that I'll do everything possible to be on that jet with you. Okay?"
"I'm holding you to that," she said, settling back into her seat. "Don't think I won't."
"New plan," he said, wisely not trying to argue further with her. "Ram, same thing. Get her on board no matter how you have to do it. Woody, Hector, get out as soon as I slow down to let Ram out. I'll rig something and bail halfway down the runway."
It was a horrible plan, with too many variables that could go wrong. But Manny was already aiming the truck at a chain link fence. The fence wrapped around the front end as it tore loose from the posts, slapping against the sides and throwing up sparks on the pavement. The truck lifted and the tires bumped hard over the fence. Then they were free and Manny spun the steering wheel as the truck dove for the shadows between two hangars.
"That's our cue, Bombshell." Ram reached into the back seat and wrapped a large hand around her upper arm. "Stick close to me and don't argue."
"Wait a minute. This isn't—"
Steph stifled a shriek of surprise as he easily lifted her out of the back seat and over the front ones. Her legs tangled in the Kevlar blanket and she kicked at it, trying to push the heavy weight away. Light flashed into the cab as they passed the front of the hangars, and Steph struggled harder until she was free.
Ram settled her in the seat next to him, his seat belt off and his other hand resting on the door handle. The strobe lights along the runway flared into life, stabbing at the darkness as a shadow dropped down with red and green fire marking its edges.
A movement behind her caught Steph's attention. She half-turned just in time to see Hector slither through the back window. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to say something and she closed it again without speaking. If he had decided he was helping Manny, then she wasn't going to point it out while Manny had time to object.
Her skin crawled between her shoulder blades, stronger than the tingle at the back of her neck and stronger than her spidey sense. Steph turned her head towards the window and froze, watching as the shadow became a sleek grey jet larger than she thought possible, its wing tip too close to the truck as it settled onto the ground.
"Go! Go go go go!"
Manny hit the brakes hard, and Ram was already opening the door and hauling Steph out with him. Her knee cracked against the frame and she yelped, but there wasn't time to worry about it. He slid his arm around her waist, keeping her feet off the ground as he sprinted towards where the jet slowed and turned towards them.
The engines reversed, the whine of the turbines deafening. Steph couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only hang helplessly from Ram's arms and pray. He ducked under the wing, the dark edge sweeping by too close overhead as the hatch in the side swung away from the jet to become the steps.
Hal filled the open hatch with his muscular frame, one beefy hand clenched around the edge as he reached out with the other. The wind from the engines rippled his t-shirt as he leaned dangerously forward to close the distance between Steph and safety.
Without warning, Ram gathered himself. Between one stride and the next, he shifted Steph's weight and flung her across the gap. One moment she was wrapped up in his arms, the next she was airborne. Her lungs and heart seized, and Steph didn't even have time for one horrified shriek before she landed.
Hard.