Page 3 of Callahan's Haven

“Yes, sir.” She holstered her gun and walked over to the two men while Cal, Declan, and Garrett covered her. She took the weapons from their loose grips and then removed the magazines and emptied the chambers before putting the guns on the floor and their ammunition in her pockets.

“Make sure they’re not carrying anything else.”

She nodded at his command and began patting Morton down, telling him in an exaggeration of her Georgia drawl, “Don’t you go getting excited now, ya hear?” Morton glared up at the ceiling while she worked her way down his body where she found and pulled a knife from his boot. She turned it back and forth in her hand. “Nice blade,” she said, looking up at him while sliding it on the floor over to Garrett, who reached down and picked it up.

Cal didn’t trust Woosley and his loose-limbed posture as Solace straightened away from Morton and began her pat-down—nor his grin when she got to his groin. “Now don’tyoustart getting excited, sweet cheeks, because what you have there is the only extra weapon I’m packing.”

“That’s your dick?” she said, frowning up at him and patting the front of his pants. “Wow, how embarrassing. But who knows, maybe you’re a grower.”

“Barracks whore,” Woosley yelled while making the idiotic mistake of lunging for her. He found his legs knocked out from under him and his face planted on the floor within seconds, with his arm bent behind him and hand twisted up between his shoulder blades.

“Arrr... You broke my tooth, you fucking bitch.”

“Now, is that any way to talk to a lady?” Solace asked, bending to his ear from where she straddled his back. The action put more pressure on his arm and elicited a painful groan from the prone man as he dribbled blood. “You really need to start working on your pick-up lines.”

Cal held in a laugh. Solace was five-foot-nine, with blonde good looks most people didn’t see as a threat, but she could take down a man three times her size given the right motivation. Hell, he’d watched her take down Declan a time or two—much to his six-foot-eight friend’s consternation. Poor, stupid Woosley, with his slight build, hadn’t posed much of a challenge.

“I wouldn’t,” Declan said, pointing his gun at Morton when the other man shifted his stance.

“Shit! Looks like that hurts,” Garrett said, peering down at Woosley and shaking his dark brown head before squatting in front of him. “You really shouldn’t have messed with her when she was that close to your goods.” Woosley snarled and strained his neck to look at Garrett, who was obviously enjoying himself. “Last guy lost his nuts.”

“That’s enough, Wallace.” Cal motioned with his gun at Celeski while Solace maintained her hold on Woosley, who had finally ceased his struggling. “Check him out, then take his keys and get the prisoner loose.”

Garrett holstered his weapon. “Gladly.” He went over and patted the major down, then shook his head at Cal after finding no additional weapons. He located the keys in Celeski’s front shirt pocket and set about removing the chains securing the young woman to the chair.

Their captive didn’t flinch but kept her eyes glued to Cal’s, their depths filling with hope while the wrist cuffs were taken off. She rubbed her raw skin, then wiped her bloody nose, but ignored the line of blood dripping down her left cheek. The wound from Celeski’s ring had cut deep and would probably leave a scar.

“Carter,” he said, glancing at Declan, “grab those standard cuffs on the table behind you and take charge of the prisoner.” He turned back to the woman whose expression had hardened. “We’re not releasing you.” Her lips tightened more as she nodded. Declan readied the cuffs and took hold of her arm to help her from the chair. She stood, but was unsteady on her feet and swayed against him.

“Can you walk?” Declan bent and asked her in a gentle tone. She nodded before he secured her.

“Now, you two,” Cal said, indicating Celeski and Morton. “Sit.”

Cal kept his gun trained on the men who reluctantly sat while he grabbed a third chair to place under the table. Garrett assisted Solace in manhandling Woosley up off the floor and forced him to walk over and sit down as well.

“Each of you, put a hand out on the table.”

Celeski frowned at Cal. “You aren’t seriously going to use these restraints on us?”

“You think I’m going to leave you free to follow us?” Cal let out a gruff laugh and shook his head. “You’ve clearly underestimated my intelligence.”

“I’d be insulted,” Garrett said, taking Celeski’s wrist and snapping the cuff around it. “You know,” he said, closing and tightening the ends around the man’s wrist, “just on general principle.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “Just finish getting the other two secured.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, grinning and getting on with his task.

“So, you’re just gonna sit there?” Woosley was one mouthy bastard.

Celeski raised his shackled wrist. “What do you suggest I do?”

“Nothin’,” Woosley mumbled under his breath and slumped in his chair.

Morton kept his mouth shut, but visibly searched the room.

After the three were secured, Cal motioned for his team to gather at the foot of the stairs. Declan brought his charge with him, saying, “We set?”

Cal met the gaze of each member of his team. “I am. But it was my decision to take charge, so if—”

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