Page 116 of Fearless

Two weeks later

It was like a scene from a fairy tale. Bright, colorful flowers, in every variety, lined the pathway leading to the small chapel. The sky was a brilliant eggshell blue. A light summer breeze wafting through the air caused delicate-looking petals from the flowering trees to drift down in a dreamy, circuitous route. Birds twittered and tweeted, bumblebees buzzed, and the entire area was filled with the fragrance of the wild honeysuckle scattered around the forest.

If he weren’t so focused on his plans, and pumped with adrenaline, Colton figured he’d throw up at the sight.

The lovebirds were going to renew their vows today. When Colton first learned of the upcoming event, he hadn’t known if he was infuriated or amused. Their audacity was almost more than he could stand. They were acting as if nothing had happened to them. As if nothing could happen. As if they’d already forgotten about him. As if he wasn’t a threat. Not even a blip on their radar.

In the end, he had decided that their naïveté amused him, but the lack of respect for his capabilities infuriated him. Did they not realize he knew where they lived?

What was even more audacious was the lack of secrecy. They hadn’t even tried to keep any of their plans hidden. Flowers had been ordered from three different florists in Appleton, Wisconsin. A massive cake had been ordered from a bakery there, while two other bakeries had received orders for various pastries and goodies. It was as if they were feeding a small country instead of a medium-sized party. Everywhere he’d gone, everyone was talking about the couple in the nearby community of Francine who were renewing their vows. He’d seen both women and men sigh and smile as they’d talked about it as if it were some kind of royal event.

He had arrived in Appleton three days ago. His plan had been to invade Francine under the cover of night and covertly capture the Donavans while they were fast asleep. He knew they were both in Francine. He’d even seen them twice while walking around Appleton. They’d been holding hands, laughing, and acting as if everything was wonderful. Once, he’d been rounding the corner and had almost run into them. If he hadn’t ducked into a shoe store at the last minute, he might have.

He’d made two sweeps of Francine’s outside perimeter and could already tell there was massive security. Going in at night and nabbing them from their bed would have been doable. As an expert in covert ops, he knew, without a doubt, he could pull it off. But just when he’d been preparing for that mission, he’d happened to be in a coffee shop when he’d heard a group of women discussing the wedding vow renewal ceremony.

The brilliant idea had bloomed from there. He would not only ruin their special day, but he would have them under his control again. What better way to show the Donavans what he was really made of?

Last week, before he’d left his apartment in Hobbs, he’d sent an email to his longtime friend Nathan Decker. It had been obvious when they’d seen each other at the WREN conference that the man was in awe of him. He’d asked Decker to send a message to the council, letting them know his plans to not only recapture both Donavans, but that he also wanted to come back to work with WREN.

Once he accomplished his goal, he’d contact Decker again and have him arrange a meeting with the council. The moment he delivered the Donavans, everything would right itself again. He would be back within the fold and would have the reputation and notoriety of capturing the elusive couple not once, but twice. He would have fulfilled the challenging quest he had been given and proven himself more than qualified to be a WREN leader.

He had considered calling in an army to help. He certainly had the funds to hire as many goons as he wanted. But that might trigger a massacre, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not that he cared about any of the residents of Francine, but if a bunch of people were shot up or killed, it would make national headlines. If there was one thing WREN hated, it was publicity. They ruled the world in the shadows, under the cover of anonymity. They would not be impressed and would most likely be infuriated if he made a big to-do of recapturing the Donavans.

He alone would take them, and it would be with a minimum of fuss. Last night, he’d snuck onto the property. Spending a few uncomfortable hours in the woods had done nothing to lessen his excitement. Every time he thought about their reactions when he showed up, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He had come prepared—two handguns, a knife, and a couple of flash-bangs. He didn’t anticipate needing more than one gun, though. There would be no weapons inside the church. These people were expecting flowers, music, and romance. Not an abduction.

Hearing voices, he took several steps back, making sure the large bushy plant he’d been standing behind covered him completely. The voices grew louder, and between the leaves he watched as the guests arrived. They were all walking, two and three people at a time, laughing, talking, joking with one another. Men dressed in chinos and khakis, women in light-colored, floral dresses. Looked like everyone was dressed for a casual, summer barbecue, not a fancy shindig.

After about fifty or so people had walked by, and no more appeared to be coming, he couldn’t help but be surprised. Not only at the smaller-than-expected number, but also at the lack of children. Apparently, the Donavans didn’t want a bunch of screaming and crying rug rats to ruin their special day.

That was okay. He was going to take care of that himself.

Getting inside the church had been a breeze. These people were so focused on themselves, they never gave any thought of an intruder in their midst.

He now stood behind a door located close to the front of the church, only a few feet away from the happy couple. Serena was wearing a light blue summer dress and had her hair up in some kind of style that showed off her slender neck. Her face glowed with good health and happiness. Considering all the bruises he’d left on her, he thought she had recovered quite well. He could only hope she still had nightmares. If she didn’t, he would make sure she had them in the future.

Sean was his biggest surprise. The man looked healthy and even bulkier and stronger than he had before. He had walked down the aisle without the slightest limp, as if he had never been tortured. In a strange twist, seeing Sean Donavan so healthy kind of made Colton happy. Now, they could start all over again.

An older man with iron-gray hair and a military-like posture stood in front of the happy couple. Colton recognized Serena’s father from the photos he had used to torture Serena. He was talking to the couple in a low voice, and while Colton couldn’t hear the words, by the looks on both their faces, the man must have been saying something serious. They both just nodded, and then he began the ceremony.

Colton had thought about his timing in all this. It was actually one of the few details he’d had trouble deciding upon. Should he wait until they got started and then bust through the door? Should he wait until they were finished and about to kiss? Or should he go in before they even began?

In the end, he’d decided to wait until that crucial kiss—after the ceremony was all over, and they thought their troubles were behind them. The shock value alone would make for an amusing anecdote when he described to the council how he’d recaptured the Donavans.

The ceremony began. Promises were made, love was declared, blah, blah, blah. If he hadn’t decided to wait until the kiss, he would’ve already stopped the boring, sugary event. His teeth were practically aching from all the sweetness.

Finally, they were told to kiss to seal their vows. His gun already in hand, a smile of triumph on his face, Colton jerked open the door and marched into the church to recapture his prizes.

Halfway to the altar, he skidded to a stop. Not only did Sean and Serena face him without an ounce of surprise on their faces, but they were both pointing guns directly at him.

Even the minister, Serena’s father, was holding a gun on him.

Stunned, he glanced over at the people in the pews. They were no longer sitting, looking teary-eyed or even shocked at his entry. Every single one of them was holding a gun. And they were all pointed at him.

For a wild, crazed moment, he told himself that this was just a bizarre nightmare that he would surely soon wake from. He had dozens of guns trained on him. A bullet from just one of them could end his life.

How had his calculations not accounted for this? How had they known he was coming?