Page 2 of Under Fire

He glanced at Carson. “It’s Karl.”

Clicking on the phone, he said, “Karl? What’s going on?”

“I’m in trouble, Sheppard. I need your help.”

“What happened?” Sheppard asked, easing out of the bed.

“I’ve been arrested”

“What for, Karl?”

“I killed a man.”

CHAPTER 1

Tampa, Florida

Sheppard Granger stood near the private terminal at the Tampa International Airport. He had arrived less than an hour ago from his home in Charlottesville, Virginia, and now he was waiting to be joined by others.

After getting Karl Halifax’s phone call before daybreak this morning ─ the only one the Tampa Police Department would allow him ─ Sheppard had immediately gone into action. First, he had called the woman whose name and number Karl had given him, with the instructions Karl had relayed: “Go into hiding until further notice.”

Sheppard assumed she understood the message and would comply. Then, while packing, he made another call. Karl needed his help, and he hoped the three men he had contacted could do it.

Sheppard’s gaze went to the sky, and beyond the brightness of the sun, he saw a plane coming in for a landing. It was one built by Granger Aeronautics, his family-owned corporation. Moments later, he watched it taxi with ease on the runway. His oldest son, Jace, suggested they pursue private contracts in addition to government ones. That move made Granger Aeronautics a premier private-jet manufacturer.

His second-oldest son, Caden, envisioned the shape, style, and look of the beautiful jet that just landed. In addition to being a Grammy Award-winning saxophonist, Caden discovered he had a talent for aerospace design and headed that department within the corporation. Sheppard’s youngest son, Dalton, still ran the Granger Aeronautics Security Department and was doing an awesome job.

It didn’t take long for the jet’s door to open and the stairs to be lowered. The first man appeared, pausing briefly at the top of the steps. Locke Dangerfield. The second, Shogun Duke, followed, and the third, Macayle Wasilla, brought up the rear. As he watched all three descend the plane, something unexpectedly tightened in his chest. Pride. Pure, unadulterated pride.

The three, at thirty-five, bore little resemblance to the young, defiant, hell-raising, and barely twenty-year-olds he had first met years ago. Now they wore tailored business suits and expensive shoes. Their look matched the confidence in their strides as they began walking. Locke carried a leather briefcase. Shogun wore his suit jacket unbuttoned, revealing a crisp white shirt and what Sheppard knew was an expensive tie. And Macayle slid on a pair of customized aviator-style sunglasses to shield his eyes from the bright Florida sun.

They walked in unison, shoulders squared and heads high. Some would call them cocky and overconfident. He saw them as men who commanded attention wherever they went. Even in the courtroom. Each had their own style and personality, but the moment he befriended them in prison, he knew their calling and that they would work well together as a team.

Locke, Shogun, and Macayle were three damn good attorneys whose names were nationally known in legal circles, well beyond Portland, Oregon, where they practiced. Over the years, people called them the Defenders. They were sought after for those cases when the stakes were high, the evidence complicated, and the odds impossible. They worked hard not only to prove their client was innocent, but also to bring the real culprit to justice. He knew how much it bothered them when men – like himself – spent years in prison before it was discovered they had been innocent.

Sheppard saw beyond their suave and dapper exteriors. He remembered a time when, instead of wearing tailored business suits, they wore prison uniforms. And he wouldn’t forget the numbers assigned to them instead of the prestigious titles that were now attached to their names. He could easily recall their anger, their defiance, and their unruliness. Yet beneath all of that, Sheppard had seen something in them they hadn’t recognized in themselves at the time. Namely, the potential for greatness.

Unfortunate circumstances had cost them their freedom and would have dictated the rest of their lives if they’d allowed it. As a fellow inmate himself, serving time for a crime he hadn’t committed, he refused to let them wallow in self-pity, revenge, or rebelliousness. Instead, he challenged them. He had demanded that they stop making excuses and start making plans for the time when those prison gates opened, and they walked out as free men.

He encouraged them to choose between the lives they’d known before and the lives they claimed they wanted. He convinced them that everything began with a plan. First, they needed to take advantage of the college opportunities Glenworth Penitentiary offered. Namely, self-improvement programs Sheppard had worked tirelessly with prison officials and the governor to make happen. Using the connections he still had on the outside, Sheppard opened doors where he could and offered advice when they asked. And even when they didn’t.

Through it all, he never felt like he had done the hardest part in their rehabilitation. They had. They had taken all his advice, turned their lives around, and made something of themselves. They had walked out of those prison doors prepared and knowing the word ‘quit’ was not in their vocabulary. Once free men, they had furthered their education by obtaining law degrees. Now they stood in a courtroom on the right side of the law, fighting for justice. Successful. Respected. Confident.

They, along with a few others, considered him their surrogate father and credited him with rescuing them. He rejected that notion. All he’d done was to point them in another direction and encourage them to turn over a new leaf. They were the ones who chose to do it.

When they saw him standing there, they smiled, and he automatically smiled back, filled with even more pride because he knew how far they had come to become the men they were today. His smile wavered a little when he remembered the reason he had summoned them here.

Karl Halifax.

Regardless of whether he hadn’t gotten through to Karl before he had been released from prison, he still considered him one of his surrogate sons. And a father would never give up on his son. Now Karl was back behind bars, accused of a murder he claimed had been in self-defense. Sheppard believed him. However, believing it and proving it were two entirely different things. That’s where Locke Dangerfield, Shogun Duke, and Macayle Wasilla came in.

When they reached him, Locke grinned and said, “Thanks for sending that private jet for us. It’s real nice, Shep. We felt spoiled. We want to be like you when we grow up.”

Sheppard chuckled. “Thank you, guys, for coming.”

Then they gave him bear hugs, not as a reunion of four former inmates, but as three sons greeting the man they considered a father figure. They knew this wasn’t a social visit. He had talked to the three on a conference call last night. It hadn’t mattered that it had been extremely late. He had called, and they’d answered immediately.

After the hugs, serious expressions appeared on their three faces. Locke was the one who asked. “You still believe Halifax’s story?”