No Ordinary Day by Tate, Harley (best large ereader .txt) 📕

two butterfly clips across the tan fabric, popped a couple prescription pain pills, and cleaned up his mess. In a few minutes, the drugs would take effect and he’d be floating on a cloud, pain gone, mission a go.

He headed up to the cab of the vehicle and flipped down the visor to check out his handiwork. He laughed. Paging Nurse Ratched. Looks like Willy’s escaped again.

He flipped the visor back up and reached for the satellite phone before dialing the only number he’d ever needed. After three rings, a gruff voice answered.

“What’s your status?”

“Alive. But it didn’t go according to plan.”

“How so?”

Willy kept it simple. “Crazy research woman hit me with a crowbar. Took me out before I could do the job.”

“And John?”

“He’s still in play.”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am. Took a beating but I’m still here.” He sniffed. “I might have underestimated that woman, but Nick was right about John. He’s gone totally soft. Cross has him wrapped around her finger.”

“Then her fingers need to be broken. Find Cross, find John and the other researcher, and kill them.”

Willy protested. “It’s not going to be that easy. They’re at some farm and I can’t get a read on it thanks to the topography. For all I know there’s ten guys with machine guns in there.” He hesitated, but one glance in the rearview at his bandaged head and he pushed on. “I need some reinforcement.”

Laughter echoed across the line. “You’ll get no such thing.”

“But Uncle—”

“Was I wrong when I trusted you? Did I send a little boy to do a man’s job?”

Willy snuffed back the hurt and the blood clogging his nose. “I said I can do it.”

“Kill the women, kill John. Man up and get it done.”

“It’ll take some reconnaissance. I can’t just run in there without knowing what’s going on.”

“Do what you need to do, but soon. Is your sat phone in working order?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then once you’ve secured the targets, call me and turn on the camera. We need video confirmation of the kills.”

Willy sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“That’s my boy.” His uncle’s voice warmed across the line. “I’m counting on you, son. There’s no more room for disappointment. Make me proud.”

The line went dead and Willy leaned back in the driver’s seat. I will make you proud, Uncle Dane. I will finish the contract. And I’ll make John pay.

Finally, he’d be out from under that man’s shadow. No more showing him up, no more perfect record. John would be nothing but a memory to his uncle and Willy could finally take his place. A warm and pleasant emptiness filled Willy’s mind as the pain meds took hold. No more worry, no more self-doubt. Only the promise of a fulfilled contract and a future where he never failed to measure up remained. Let’s do this.

He started the engine of the truck and eased up onto the road.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Raymond

“Over here is our current crop. Alfalfa was just planted and should be ready in a few months. We’ll need quite a bit of help at harvest time to preserve it over the winter since there’s no major processor to take it. Over here,” Vince turned and pointed at another field, “is our fallow field. We rotate every year or two to give the soil a chance to regenerate.”

It was a lot to take in. The only farm Raymond ever visited before now was a strawberry you-pick-it place Gloria cajoled him into visiting every spring. He ran a hand over his hair. “I’ll confess, I don’t know the first thing about what I’m looking at.”

Vince smiled. “It’s okay. I didn’t know anything about it when I was a kid, either. But I do now. And I can help you learn, assuming you’re willing to put in the work.”

Raymond wasn’t sure about anything. “Let me ask you something.”

Vince raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

“Why did you take us in? Why are you telling me any of this?” He shook his head as he looked around. “We’re a bunch of strangers. Sure, Holly is with us, but we’ve got a pair of dogs, a pile of guns, and at least one guy with us even I don’t trust.”

“I take it that isn’t you?”

Raymond half smiled. “You know what I’m getting at.”

“I do.” Vince turned toward the house where the women were busy inventorying supplies and calculating days of food. He was silent so long, Raymond wondered if he’d overstepped. At last, his shoulders heaved. “Holly is Sandra’s daughter. She vouched for you, so I’m trusting her.”

“It’s that simple?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Raymond thought back over the course of the prior week and everything that had happened. Normal life seemed so far away. Trusting people because they seemed honest, or were family… He rubbed a thumb across his palm. “What happened around here when the power went out?”

Vince turned back toward the main house and pointed toward the far side. “We’ve got an automatic generator. It kicks on if the power goes out for more than half an hour. At first, we thought nothing of it. Happens often out here in high winds, storms, sometimes just for fun.

“When it was still out the next day, I hopped in my truck and drove to town. People were milling about and the mayor was in the town square trying to calm everyone down. Took me a while to ferret out the information, but one of the ladies at the local paper—writes the lifestyle section. Well, she’s always been friends with Sandra since we moved here. Tell the truth, I think they both like themselves a little too much brandy in the evenings.”

Raymond smiled.

“Anyway, she told me the word from the governor was that this was gonna be bad. It wasn’t some easy fix. Told me to get ready.”

“Did you?”

Vince kicked at a clump of dirt. “I’ll confess, I didn’t believe her. She’s always so melodramatic when she’s over with Sandy, talking with her hands about so-and-so’s divorce or what’s-her-name’s new