Page 24 of A Veteran's Desire

Fear so sharp I taste it makes me stumble, and I grab a tree branch to steady myself. I imagine Hannah in the kitchen pouring a glass of water, wiping the tears from her eyes that I caused her. Unaware that someone is approaching the house.

I force myself to pause and check the feeds for the other cameras. The camera at the back of the property that comes out to the old gravel access road has movement. A car has stopped, and I’d bet anything that’s their getaway vehicle, and there’s someone waiting in there who could give us a lot of answers. But my prime directive is to keep the people in the house safe. To make sure no harm comes to Hannah.

When I was on missions, I never felt panic like this, but this is different. This is personal.

It won’t help Hannah if I lose my shit now. I grip a tree branch and clear my mind. My cameras show only one perp at the house and the potential threat of more from the car. They are likely in communication, so anything I do could trigger whoever is in the car to join the fray, and then I’d be outnumbered.

But I have backup too.

Keeping the house in my sights, I make a call to Aiden. He runs security at Jake’s Retreat and has helped before when there was trouble on the mountain.

I explain the situation, and Aiden promises to get a team together. But I don’t have time to wait for backup. It’s a similar situation as my last mission, calling for backup but having to act before it arrives. There is no choice here. I go for the perp in the house.

I’ve been moving as I speak, and I reach my car at the end of the orchard. Tucked in here, it’s hidden from the road. Whoeverthe intruders are, they must think I’m not here, which explains why they’ve been so bold. I’ll have surprise on my side.

Silently, I open the car door and take my gun from under the seat. It’s already loaded and I feel better with it in my hand.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I approach the house. The cameras were triggered by the perp, but the alarms are only enabled at night. Hannah won’t know there’s someone here.

I call but her phone goes to voicemail, so I send a quick text.

Intruder heading toward the house

I don’t know if she’ll see it. I have to assume she won’t, which means she won’t know he’s coming.

I keep to the shadows as I cross the yard, using Abby’s car and then the kids’ play set for cover.

I pause behind the slide, listening.

Every instinct is to charge into the house. To get to Hannah and the innocent boys sleeping upstairs. I will myself to slow down, to let my training override my panic.

The intruder doesn’t know I’m here, and that’s an advantage I want to keep. I scan the camera feeds and pick them up near the back door that leads into the kitchen.

From the back of the house comes the sound of breaking glass. It’s muffled as if he’s used a cloth over his fist to break through, and I wonder if Hannah and Abby have heard it.

Moving quietly with my gun drawn, I cross the yard and let myself in the front door. My preparation pays off when it opens silently on recently oiled hinges.

A floorboard creaks upstairs, and I can only hope Hannah got my text and she’s locked herself, Abby, and the boys into a room.

I keep my gun raised as I creep through the house. My heart hammers in my chest as I move through the kitchen and entryway and into the dining room. I pause. One doorway leads to the kitchen and through to the back door, the last knownposition of the perp. The other doorway leads to the hall and the stairs where Hannah is. It’s also exposed. If I step into the hallway and they’ve come through that way, I’ll be seen.

My training tells me to go to the kitchen, follow the perp, and surprise them from behind. But my heart screams at me to block the stairs and protect the woman I love.

My mind jumps to another day, another decision. I followed my training then, and a man died. I won’t make the same mistake.

With my gun in my hand, I push open the door that leads to the hallway.

The door to the kitchen is open, and moonlight from the windows makes slanted patterns on the floor. A man dressed in black and wearing a ski mask hunches over a cabinet in the hallway. The top drawers are open, and he picks up papers and discards them on the floor.

Next to him is the exposed staircase where the woman I love is. He hasn’t noticed me yet, and it should be easy to take him down.

A creak on the stairs has us both looking up. At the top of the stairs stands Hannah with Pops’s shotgun pointed straight at the man.

He stops his search for whatever he’s looking for and turns to Hannah. I don’t give him time to do anything before lunging forward. My body hits his, and he flies to the ground. My foot connects with the base of the solid mahogany cabinet, and pain shoots up my leg. The papers he was holding drop to the ground, and something falls out of his pocket. He’s small and lean, and his foot hits out and gets me in the solar plexus. I hiss in pain, and my hold on him loosens. It’s enough for him to scramble free and bolt for the door.

I raise my gun, and Hannah raises hers. I’ve got a clean shot, but if I take it, Hannah will witness something no civilianshould. Besides, he’s running away, and this isn’t a war zone. The rules of engagement are different here. I lower my gun and scramble to my feet, and pain shoots through my ankle. I must have knocked it when I went down. I ignore the pain and limp through the kitchen but he’s already gone. Unhindered by injury and motivated by fear, he’s a dark shadow, racing for the back of the property and the getaway car.

I turn back to the house and Hannah is in the doorway, the shotgun trembling in her hand. I ease it off her and lean it against the counter.