Page 34 of Gentle Warrior

Moose’s gaze hardened as he keyed his comm again, voice tight with urgency. “Link, any sign where they’re holding Shorty?”

A brief pause followed before Link answered, tone steady but serious. “Negative on exact location so far. Intercepted chatter suggests he’s contained, but no clear sign of harm yet. That could change quickly.”

Moose exhaled slowly, the weight of uncertainty settling in. “Keep monitoring everything. We move fast once we get eyes on him.”

The Protectors exchanged brief nods; silence broke with the sharp rustling of tactical gear as they prepared to shift out. Bear next to Moose gave a curt nod: ready.

23 - MOOSE

The morning air was taut with tension, heavy and alive as the Protectors moved with practiced precision around the farmhouse. Two trucks rested on the gravel driveway, their engines humming softly beneath the sharp, clean scent of damp earth and towering pines that framed the clearing. Sunlight filtered through the needles, casting dappled shadows that danced gently on the dew-kissed grass.

Moose’s eyes swept the lineup. Bear was nearby, adjusting the radio on Viper’s vest. Their brief nod passed like a silent handshake between old SEAL brothers—no need to voice the trust Bear placed in Moose. Years of shared missions had distilled their communication to a glance.

The men stood ready, their patience worn thin by the unknown. Muscles coiled tight, eyes sharp and scanning, each man awaiting the next order with a barely contained urgency. There was an electric undercurrent of impatience rippling through the team as they waited for the crucial intel that would tell them where to move, how to strike. The air buzzed with silent questions and the shared determination to act swiftly once the path was clear.

Jake, as leader of the Colorado branch of the Brotherhood Protectors, looked at Shadow, knowing that it was his first mission with the team. “You good?”

Shadow gave a brief nod. “Med kits checked. Ready to roll.”

Jake gave a quick nod back.

Moose stood in the doorway, watching his mom and Elena interact. He felt a surge of admiration as Elena moved with quiet ease, reading Nancy’s subtle cues and understanding her language like second nature. It was a rare comfort amid the tension.

Then the stillness shattered. Moose’s comm crackled sharply to life. Link’s voice came through, tight with anger.

“Got eyes on Shorty. Satellite feed shows him tied to the flagpole in the center of Main Street. He’s slumped there, beaten—blood smeared along his jaw, a swollen eye. Conversation intercepted. He’s alive, but we need to move—now.”

For a heartbeat, the team froze, then scrambled instantly.

Startled, Nancy’s humming shifted into a higher, uneven pitch. She gathered Salty tightly into her arms and retreated to the kitchen corner, curling inward as her wide eyes searched for calm amid the sudden storm.

A hard knot tightened in Moose’s jaw as the news sank in. He steeled himself and quickly shifted the team’s focus, issuing clear orders.

“Shadow, you’re with me in the second truck. Jax rides shotgun.”

Shadow acknowledged with a curt nod, eyes vigilant as he scanned their surroundings. “Copy.”

Turning, Moose found Enzo standing alert nearby and Jim leaning stiffly against the rough-hewn doorframe, arms crossed tightly. Moose’s voice dropped low but carried an unmistakable command. “Protect the ladies. Get them to the root cellar if it comes to that.”

Enzo’s features hardened with determined resolve, ready to move without question. Moose stepped closer to Jim. “Let my guys handle the ladies. You stay out of the way. I need you safe. No heroics.”

Jim pressed his lips into a thin line, jaw clenched—not from doubt about the danger, but from the disruption to his routine, the chores left undone, the animals needing care. He shot Moose a sharp glare, eyes burning with unspoken frustration. “I can still whip your ass, boy,” he muttered just loud enough for Moose to catch every word.

Moose felt a jolt ripple through his body at his uncle’s words—a flicker of the old, sharp sting that had cut deep in younger days. His muscles tensed briefly, a reflex from years past when those threats carried the weight of harsh discipline.

But he held his ground, locking eyes with Jim steadily and deliberately. No flare of anger or fear now, just calm resolve. He carried the memories of those times, but also the strength he’d earned since—older, tougher, and unwilling to be broken again.

The tension hung heavy in the air until Jim’s curt nod shifted the moment, an unspoken understanding settling quietly between them.

Moose drew a slow, steady breath, his gaze lingering on Elena seated quietly at the kitchen table. The vulnerability in her eyes struck him—fragile hopes tempered by unspoken fears. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he recognized there was no turning back. Duty demanded he move forward.

Bear climbed into the passenger seat beside Moose, settling in with the practiced ease of years spent in tight quarters. Moose tightened his grip on the wheel, his eyes flicking to Bear briefly before keying the comm. “Comms check.”

One by one, familiar voices echoed back through the static. “Here,” Jake’s steady voice responded.

“Ready,” Thorn confirmed.

Shadow’s curt “Copy” cut in next, followed by Jax and Viper’s replies.