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And when he was finished, Rollins’s men would be dead, or he would be. Poppy was his, and she was off limits, period. If he hadn’t intended to take them out, this move ensured it. Though he was certain Rollins had only meant to force a meet, not a killing.
Still, all indications pointed to the other man’s intent to abduct Poppy to get the message to Jack that he wanted to talk. The mercenary had never understood subtlety.
And now Jack would forget the meaning of mercy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The farmhouse sat back from I-64, sheltered by an acre or more of thickly growing trees around it. The dirt road in was the only vehicle access.
Hank and Hayes went in separately, the car they stole for the occasion hidden beneath pine trees where it probably wouldn’t be found until the bodies were. From there, the two men made their way on foot, arriving in position, with clear sight of the house as Jack and Lucas pulled into it.
Rollins, Sanchez, Van Nyes, and Alberts were in the house, according to satellite. The stealth drone used to survey the area detected no electronic surveillance being used. The mercenaries were confident of their position and their strength to hold it until whatever they were there for was completed.
Evidently, they didn’t intend to stay long at the deserted house, because Rollins was known for his insistence where his creature comforts were concerned—especially electric.
As Jack parked the truck, Rollins opened the front door and stared back at him, his gaze narrowed on Jack. At barely six feet, his head shaven and a bushy beard covering his face, he looked like the bush scavenger Jack had always considered him to be. The wary caution and hint of surprise on the mercenary’s face assured Jack the other man had expected something far different than a daylight visit and that he wasn’t certain what to expect from Jack now.
“Afternoon, Bridger,” he greeted, his voice wary, nodding as Jack and Lucas stepped from the vehicle.
“Chet.” Jack nodded. “It’s been a while.”
“Yep, a while,” Chet agreed, his gaze scanning the area, searching for any threats.
Jack could feel the gun sights trained on him from inside the house and spread his arms away from his body carefully.
“I’m just here to talk,” Jack assured him.
Chet looked around suspiciously once again, but seeing nothing, and his hunter’s instincts assuring him there were no sights trained on him, he gave a short nod and a hand signal to the men inside.
“Didn’t expect you so early today, I have to admit,” Chet said. “We were actually going to head to your place this evening.”
His, or Poppy’s? Jack wondered.
“Let’s say I got your message loud and clear when you approached my woman in town,” Jack said, stepping to the porch, Lucas behind him.
“How did you find the place?” Rollins was clearly still suspicious.
“My territory,” Jack informed him. “Not a lot of abandoned places that would suit your needs. I think this is the third place we checked.”
Rollins chuckled as he stood back from the door.
“You armed?” the mercenary asked.
“Left it in the truck,” Jack assured him.
Rollins and his men were armed.
Chet’s gaze went over him and Lucas once again, and Jack knew their black pants, boots, and T-shirts would have revealed weapons to an experienced eye and they would have been taken before they made the porch.
“I wondered if you’d take the message seriously,” Chet remarked as they entered the house. “You’re not known for claiming a woman. Kind of surprised me when I heard those boys bitching at the bar over you claiming their sister.”
“So, you thought you’d approach her and scare her a little bit,” Jack stated coolly. “I’m not happy over that, Chet. Barboursville is a quiet little place, not a war zone.”
“Yeah, Van Nyes said she was a skittish little thing.” He laughed, closing the door to reveal the South African where he had stood out of sight.
Roland Van Nyes wasn’t as big as Jack, but he was a big boy. Muscle-bound, blond, his hair cut close to his scalp, his hazel eyes cold. He carried a short, easily held automatic weapon, his finger close to the trigger.
“You mind?” Jack asked Chet, his gaze flicking to the weapon. “This is supposed to be a peaceful meet. Or we can leave and come back later.”
