Wreaking Havoc Page 5

  “Copy that, boss.”

  The SWAT truck pulled to a hard stop and the door opened.

  We all filed out and moved swiftly toward the house.

  “Brook, you’re with Trent, head west. Rex, you’re with me, we’ll go straight for the balls. Liam, Bomber, and Lex, you’re south. The rest of you head east.”

  “Copy that,” several of their voices came back across the headset.

  Signaling Rex to move forward, I followed closely behind, my gun raised and aimed out, my back glued to Rex’s. Stopping at the house, my eyes scanned the area, not wanting any surprises to jump out. Pushing the button at my ear. “Bomber and Lex, bring out the ‘key.'”

  “Copy that,” Bomber answered.

  “On the count of three, we go in.”

  “One.”

  “Two.”

  Rex moved straight in front of the back door, foot raised.

  “Three.”

  Rex’s foot kicked the door down in one clean hit.

  Guns drawn, leaning forward I threw in the flash bangs and waited till the loud bang went off. Spinning back toward the door, we went in.

  “Police, don’t move,” I yelled.

  Rex moved to the left yelling the same thing. I hear the same words being yelled in the front rooms as well as to the side. Smoke lingered from the flashes, lights flickered around the rooms from the torches attached to everyone’s weapon.

  “We need the POI alive, boys.”

  “Copy that,” they all answered.

  “Police. Get on the ground,” Rex yelled to my left. Moving toward that area, he had a young boy around thirteen years old kneeling on the ground, his hands behind his head and sobbing.

  Shit! Facing my back to Rex, I tapped my headset. “The POI is still moving. Search the premises.”

  Several ‘clears’ came through. Turning my head to the right, movement caught my eye, facing that direction a man made a dash toward the back of the house. Quickening my steps.

  “POI is moving south. Bomber and Lex, he’s heading your way.”

  My gun scanned in front of me, checking every corner, hole, anything someone could have hidden in. Coming up to the last room, the door was closed. Bomber to my left, Lex across from me, guns aimed at the door.

  Raising my hand. One finger up. Second finger up. Third finger up, and go.

  We slammed through the door and stopped suddenly. The smell of the chemicals was so strong that it nearly knocked me on my ass. Lifting the mask over my nose and mouth, Bomber and Lex followed suit.

  Pointing my gun toward the POI. “Police. Drop your weapon and get on the ground,” I yelled at him.

  He doesn’t move. Not an inch.

  “Last warning. Get on the ground now,” I roared.

  The guy smiled and then lifted his hand up.

  Oh fuck!

  Glancing quickly around the room, barrels lined up under the window with dynamite attached to every single one. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

  “Drop the device and slowly kneel down,” Bomber, beside me told him.

  “Everyone… tactical disengagement,” I say into the mic.

  The guy laughed in front of us. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you all with me. I’m not going back to that shit hole,” he growled.

  “Slide the device over toward us,” I demanded.

  Bomber sides closer to me, his gun trained on the guy.

  “Not happening. I spent too long doing this shit. You’re not taking it away from me.” He stepped back and raised his hand, the one with the device in it. His thumb slid over the top and he hit the switch.

  “Drop the fucking device now,” I screamed.

  The guy stood there with a shit-eating grin covering his face. Nodding toward Bomber, he took the shot. His gun fired and the guy gasped as the bullet penetrated through his shoulder. Dropping to his knees, he dropped the little black box. Stomping over to him, I kicked it out of his reach. As Bomber contained the POI, the black box began to beep. Lights flashed on top of it from green to orange. The beeping became faster and faster, so fast that I couldn’t even count the individual tones. Then out of nowhere it stopped and the light on top turned red, and that’s when all hell broke loose throughout the room.

  All the barrels flashed red. I grabbed Bomber by the arm and pulled him toward the door. As we ran through the door, the room behind us exploded. Both of our bodies were thrown in different directions. Another loud explosion echoed through the house as I crashed into the brick wall. I groaned out at the pain shooting down my leg. I tried to move. Something heavy was covering my body, stopping my movement.

  “Bomber,” I called out.

  I heard coughing coming from the right of me. Turning on my side, the best I could, I looked through the smoke that filled the room. You couldn’t see shit.

  “Bomber, are you hurt?”

  I needed to get whatever was covering me off. Running my hands down the side of my body, I hit the tracking device attached to my belt, then moved down lower. Gripping the sides of the wall that covered me and lifted, as my muscles strained with the weight of it. Trying again, I couldn’t move it alone.

  Hitting my earpiece. “Officers down. I repeat, officers down.”

  The smoke and whatever else in the room filled the air. It was getting hard to breathe. Plus, it didn’t help with the weight of the wall resting on my chest. Sirens and tires were screeching and could be heard from where I laid. Voices began to fade in and out. Shaking my head, I needed to stay focused. Leaning my head back, I looked over to where I last heard Bomber. The smoke started to clear, and then his body came into view.

  “Bomber,” I yelled into the earpiece. His groan echoed through. Breathing a sigh of relief, I watched as he tried to sit up. Voices were shouting from the front and getting closer to where I was.

  I had to get out and now.

  There was a distinctive low beeping coming from across the room, glancing up, my eyes widened at what I saw. The whole house was armed with dynamite. Rows and rows of it lined the wall to my left, turning to the right, I saw the same there too.

  The whole house was going to blow.

  “Get out. Get out,” I shouted to whoever would hear me. The beeping became louder and louder to the point where I couldn’t hear anything in the room, but that damn beeping.

  My thoughts went to Amelia. The love of my life. The one that held my heart with her own. My soul mate. The only woman I’d ever wanted in my life. Amelia. A single tear slid down my face. I closed my eyes remembering everything about my girl that I loved so much.

  Her beautiful image flashed before me as the room was encased in a white glow, then nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  No pain.

  Nothing.

  The last month was a little better between me and Dante. We weren’t back to the way we once were before his trip away, but it was better. Transferring our clothes from the dryer, I’d decided to give Dante his present tonight. Although we still hadn’t spoken about the woman he was with. Well, the one I’d seen him with. It was hard. I wanted to know, but then I didn’t. Could anyone handle being told that your husband had a woman on the side? I doubted it.

  Closing the door of the dryer and switching it on high, I kneeled down and began to place our dirty clothes into the front loader washing machine. God, I hoped he was going to be happy about his surprise. I knew I should have given it to him on that day, even with everything that had happened, but I kept it to myself.

  I heard a knock at the door. I leaned back to look down the hall and couldn’t quite make out the body shape standing there. It wasn’t just one, but two. It was most probably my brother and a friend since my dad never came over this side of town.

  “Come in,” I shouted from my spot.

  I heard footsteps heading in my direction. Throwing the last pair of jeans in, I turned it on and stood from the ground. Dusting my hands against my shorts, I turned and walked toward the footsteps. Rounding the corner
, I stopped and frowned.

  “Bransen, what are you doing here?” I asked.

  I glanced between him and the guy standing to his left. I’d never seen him before. My eyes flickered between the two of them as Bransen took a step toward me. The way he stepped forward, his face strained, something untold, but by the look in his eyes, I was about to find out what that something was.

  “Amelia, can we sit down, please,” he said once he stopped in front of me.

  Nodding. “Sure, would you like something to drink before we start?” I said, then turned and walked into the kitchen.

  “No, Amelia,” his voice rasped.

  I froze where I stood. Slowly I turned and faced him and the newcomer. “What’s going on?” My heartbeat picked up as he stepped to me again. Shaking my head, I stepped back. Bransen stopped, but the new guy shifted forward.

  “Mrs. Davenport.”

  My eyes connected to his. I didn’t notice till now that Bransen was dressed fully in his uniform. His white shirt sat across his shoulders without a crease, his hat held in front of him and his medals shining on his chest.

  I shifted back to the gentleman that spoke. My eyes roamed over him. His dark uniform, black slacks, shirt, everything was black except the little white collar at his throat that sat brighter staring me in the face.

  He was a chaplain.

  Oh, God. Please no. No. I screamed inside.

  My hands slid to my stomach, fisting in my shirt, holding myself together, and felt my knees weaken.

  Bransen straightened his shoulders. “Amelia, I’m sorry, so very sorry,” his voice was thick with unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

  Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. No, this was not happening. Not now! I could feel the tears, hot and blistering on my skin as each individual one slid down my face. They burned in their path, fire, lacing over my skin.

  My soul was tearing right out of my chest. Shaking my head again. “Please. Please don’t say it,” I begged as sobs racked my body.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “Amelia,” he swallowed tightly, “you know I have to,” his voice cracked. It broke me as he stood there right in front of me, about to tell me what I didn’t want to hear. He was going to destroy me with the words he was about to say. I didn’t want to hear the words.

  The chaplain beside him stepped forward. “Ma’am, it is my greatest regret to have to inform you that, Dante Davenport, your husband, passed away while on duty. It saddens me greatly to give you this information.”

  My knees gave out as I fell forward, screaming, “No.”

  Bransen shot forward catching me before I hit the floor. He dragged me into his arms. Arms I didn’t want around me. I would never feel the right arms around me again…ever! My fists raised and pummeled onto Bransen chest, one by one I continued to hit him. His arms tightened around me, but I kept at it. Blow after blow. To him. I heard the front door close in the distance, knowing we were alone. I was alone. Alone and in pain. Pain I never wanted to feel in my life. A life not worth living. Scream after scream left my mouth. Ripping from my chest, like a knife, slicing through me. Brutal. The pain dragged me into a pit of such deep dark despair that I didn’t think I could survive.

  A hand brushed along my cheek. “Amelia, would you like me to call someone for you?” Bransen whispered.

  “My dad,” I croaked. The only other male in my life I’d ever needed. One that promised he would be here always for me and I believed him.

  Bransen retrieved his phone from his back pocket. I couldn’t move as he spoke. His words were mumbled as I sat there, unmoving, lifeless. My tears soaked his clean white shirt and my hands gripped it like my life depended on it.

  It felt like eternity whilst I sat there until my dad arrived. The front door slammed against the wall then heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.

  “Amelia,” my dad roared. The power of his voice shuddered through me. Pain. Anger. Love. I lifted my head from Bransen’s chest as my dad came into view, his steps halted once his eyes landed on mine.

  The pain etched across his face, broke me further.

  “Dad,” I sobbed.

  He fell beside me, taking me in his arms. Arms I felt completely safe in. Arms that would take this pain away from me.

  “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” I shifted onto his lap and felt Bransen move behind me. His arms tightened around me, holding me there. “If I could take this pain from you, I would. I would never allow you to go through such agony, Lia,” he whispered into my hair. I knew he would. I’d allow him to take this pain. This ache that was ripping me apart.

  I wasn’t going to survive this. My heart. My soul. All gone. My hands dropped from my dad’s chest and covered my stomach. Stroking over my belly, I had a piece of our love, right here. A piece of him. The one thing I held back from him. The child we had made together. Our child would never know his father, would never meet him, or hear his voice.

  I was never going to see Dante again. He held my heart in the palm of his hand and he controlled every part of it. Him. Now, it was crumbling around me, shattering into millions and millions of pieces that could never be put back together. My dad rocked my body into his as he held me on the floor of my kitchen. A kitchen that was once ours. No more.

  I needed him… always. He promised that he’d never leave me no matter what, but he had. His job took him away from me. My one and only.

  “I love you always, Dante,” I whispered as I curled up further in my dad’s lap. Darkness consumed me. I was ruined, heartbroken and alone. The one thing I never wanted in my life and I have it now, and no chance of it ever going away.

  I stood there motionless. Bransen to my left, his hand on my back, steadying me. My dad to my right, while he held onto my hand as car after car approached the cemetery. We stood under the only maple tree in the Black Mount Cemetery, the tree that Dante wanted to be buried next to. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, as people began to make their way toward the area.

  My hand gripped my dad’s. I couldn’t stand there and see the sorrow in their eyes. My body wavered, tears blurred my vision. Then my dad’s arm wrapped around my shoulder and pulled me back, away from the people now walking in a single line. Bransen stepped forward to greet everyone as my dad walked me toward our seats.

  The chaplain stood behind the open area where my husband would soon lay. With shaky hands, I gripped the chair beside me and I lowered myself into it. My dad sat down beside me, his hand on my leg, giving me strength.

  People began to fill the seating area. People I didn’t know, but people that Dante knew. They were all here for him. My Dante. Time flew by as I lifted my head and glanced around. All the seats were occupied. People stood at the back looking forward, more stood near the maple tree to the left. There were hundreds of people. Closing my eyes, I faced back to the front. They were all sharing this moment with me. The loss of a great soldier. A husband. A friend. A son.

  My dad’s grip on my leg forced me to open my eyes. I knew what it was for. I faintly heard the sound of people standing from their chairs, the way their shoes sloshed in the drenched grass under them. The clouds had opened that morning. It was God shedding tears on my behalf as the sky opened up and cried with me. Mourned with me.

  My dad stood from beside me. I gripped his hand in mine, convincing myself to stand. Slowly with wobbly legs, I stood and slowly turned. My breath caught as twenty men, ten on each side of the aisle, all in uniform, came to attention with a sharp salute while six men carried the coffin my husband laid in. They all stood close to each other, arms across the shoulder of the officer beside them as they walked step by agonizing step to the front. Each uniformed officer slowly lowered their salute, as his body moved past them.

  My nails dug into my dad’s hand as the coffin stopped beside my brother. My hands shook as they lifted the coffin from their shoulders and walked the last several steps and gently placed it down on the lowering device sitting above the open grave. A sob broke from
my mouth as all six men straightened and faced the coffin. Their hands came up and saluted. My heart broke further when I noticed tears in the eyes of an officer facing me. His eyes found mine. The pain seeping from him killed me more deep inside.

  All of them stepped back, spun around facing the way they came and marched off together. Everyone began to sit as the chaplain stepped forward and preceded the start of the service.

  My eyes never left where my husband laid. His body hidden behind the mahogany wood of the coffin, the one my dad had picked for me. I couldn’t do it. I was still getting over the fact that my husband was dead. And the thought of picking a coffin was the furthest thing from my mind. The department flag draped over it, the corners flapping in the slight breeze that wafted through the cemetery. My body shivered as the breeze gently caressed my skin. Like tiny delicate strokes. Fingers tracing lightly up my arm like someone beside me was doing it.

  Rubbing my hand over my exposed arm, I wiped away the invisible touch and continued to stare forward. Words echoed through me from the speakers that stood up and spoke to everyone. I barely heard the words to the song they played for Dante. ‘Never Say Never’ by The Fray played softly in the background. One I had picked. One that I would never be able to listen to again. It was our song. The music bored into me. I knew every single word off by heart and I didn’t know I was singing until I heard my own soft voice. I looked up and found the chaplain staring down at me, a sad smile covered his face.

  I closed my eyes and held my hands in my lap. As the music died, the service was coming to an end. I gulped the pain in my throat. It hurt. Burned as it slid down. It felt like I had swallowed razor blades. Opening my eyes again, they rested on the two officers standing near the coffin. A nod from the chaplain, they lifted the flag from the coffin, taking a step aside and began to fold it in front of me. My hands reached for my dad’s and my brother’s hands. Holding onto them for dear life as my eyes burned. My heart in my throat, constricting my air flow.

  Once the last fold was completed, they turned and faced the Chief. He raised his hand and stood erect as he saluted them both and in return they did the same to him. When the folded flag was in his hands, he turned and faced me. Sadness met my eyes, a single tear slid down his cheek as he stopped in front of me and kneeled. Placing the flag on my lap, I lifted my hand and placed it on top. Bransen’s hand followed mine, and held on with his as I gripped the material of the flag in my hand.