“These guys were professionals. They’ll have some kind of contingency plan,” Scott explained. “They probably have another vehicle ready to go somewhere close and will disappear at the nearest junction.”
“I’ll alert CBSA just in case,” the sheriff said.
Scott translated for her. “Canada Border Services Agency.”
Natalie nodded, but it was clear from both men’s expressions that they weren’t holding out much hope of apprehending the remaining shooters. She turned to the sheriff. “Thank God you arrived when you did. Did one of the neighbors hear the gunfire and call?”
“Not exactly,” the sheriff said. “I doubt any neighbors are close enough to hear. You are pretty remote out here.”
Yes, she’d already realized that double-edged sword. “Then how did you get here so quickly?”
Scott moved in front of her protectively, apparently anticipating the answer. “He was watching the house.”
Brock nodded. “When I saw the perp firing at the front, I tried to come up behind him on foot. But as soon as the other three appeared from around the barn, I realized I wasn’t going to have time. I went back to my car and hit the siren.”
“After calling in for backup?” Scott asked.
The sheriff looked at him. “I was trying to avoid that.”
Natalie looked back and forth between the two men, who were clearly in some kind of silent standoff. “Why?” she eventually asked.
“I figured the lieutenant commander here would rather I didn’t.”
Scott gave no reaction—his jaw was already clenched tight—but Natalie couldn’t hide her gasp of surprise. How had he known?
Brock answered the unspoken question. “I knew something wasn’t right.” His gaze landed on Scott. “Despite the belligerent attitude, you didn’t act like a criminal. From the way you moved, I figured some kind of military or spook. But it wasn’t until I got home last night that I put it together.” He looked back to Scott. “The hair and the beard were a nice touch, but I never forget a face—especially a dead SEAL. My little brother lost his life in Afghanistan three years ago. DEVGRU,” he explained.
Aka SEAL Team Six, Natalie knew.
Scott finally broke face with a curse, giving up the pretense. “Dale Brouchard. We crossed paths a couple of times. He was a good operator.”
Brock accepted the compliment with a nod. “I pay attention to every SEAL who makes the ultimate sacrifice—even in ‘training exercises.’”
Scott dragged his fingers through his hair. “Which was damned lucky for us. I was severely outmanned.” He straightened, facing the other man with much less wariness. “I should have thanked you before.”
Brock shrugged. “I’ve seen you guys operate. You would have thought of something. Who were they?”
“I’m not sure,” Scott said, and then motioned to the body in the doorway. “I doubt he’ll be much help. I suspect most of his gear is unattributable, and he won’t have an ID. But I’ll take a picture and see if anything pops up.”
The sheriff nodded and then turned to her. “I assume from the number of men who went into the barn that they were after you?”
Natalie nodded. “I was outside when I heard the shotsand saw them coming. One of them yelled ‘There she is’ before he took a shot at me as I ran back inside.”
Scott swore, realizing how lucky she’d been. There were so many ways this could have gone down and most of them weren’t with them walking out of there.
“Someone must really want you dead,” Brock said. “That’s a lot of firepower for one person. You’re lucky your boyfriend was here.”
Natalie thought about correcting him but realized it didn’t matter. “I’m lucky both of you were here.”
Brock turned back to Scott. “I assume there is a good reason why the military says you are dead?”
Scott nodded grimly. “Thanks for not calling it in right away.”
“I’m going to have to do it now. They’ll wonder about the APB.”
Scott returned the nod.
“I’ll look around a little to see what I can find while I wait for them to arrive,” the sheriff said. “If you want to wait in here, I’ll have someone come in to take your statement later.”
