Page 8 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

Uncle Arlis called in two prescriptions at a local pharmacy for Ezra and me. We’d wait to take the next wave of meds rightbefore we geared up for war. We wouldn’t let our injuries slow us down while we rescued our women.

I pulled into the gas station that doubled as a truck stop and rest area. Patrons strolled in and out of the rest stop, gripping bags of treats and other items. I tapped the earpiece as I came to a halt in a parking space closer to the end of the convenience store.

“Brock, come in?”

“Ritchie, go for Brock.”

“Don’t draw attention to yourselves. Park the SUV’s in the rear of the truck stop. Filtrate a few men throughout the grounds. Keep your eyes and ears open,” I ordered.

The men were dressed in t-shirts, jeans, and boots. The goal was for them to blend in.

“Got it, Ritchie,” Brock stated.

My eyes took in my surroundings. The dusty landscape with sparse greenery lacked the lush appearance I’d grown accustomed to on the East Coast. Even Chicago had more greenery.

Staring through a pair of binoculars, I noticed a string of vehicles moving into the rest stop.

They parked in a straight line along the front of the parking lot. None of them bothered getting out of their vehicles.

Catch was right. Rosco’s men were proof he had no plans of letting him and the others leave Utah alive.

My phone rang. I pressed the speaker button.

“Ritchie?”

“Yeah?” I responded.

“He’s getting off the interstate at the rest stop,” Catch cursed.

I understood his frustration. His girlfriend’s kid brother was in the truck. He shouldn’t have been involved.

“Catch, we’re ready,” I confirmed.

“Fuck,” he yelled.

I heard gunfire rang out.

Panic struck the faces of those pumping gas.

Anger coursed through my veins. I was ready to rip the bastards to shreds.

Glancing out the rear windshield, I noticed the men parked at the front stepped out of their vehicles clutching AK-forty-sevens. It didn’t appear they cared about innocent bystanders, either.

“Brock, time for action,” I stated in the earpiece, before pulling the soft breathable black face cover resting on my neck over my nose to disguise my appearance. Everyone on my team wore one. I couldn’t afford any of my actions on this excursion to get back to my boss.

Ezra and I hopped out of the truck, flanked by two soldiers.

A woman and a small child exited the store. “Get back inside,” I ordered.

Killing innocent people wasn’t part of the plan.

An oversized SUV barreled down the road toward the station.

My wide eyes moved over the people pumping gas. “Get in your cars,” I yelled.

“Drive to the back of the truck stop.” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder.

Moving to the rear of the rest stop was their only hope of survival.

---