The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

to deployment. He didn't want to miss an opportunity, however fleeting it might be, to ensure that their target didn't escape.

He wasn’t completely disregarding his boss’s order. They’d briefed him on Vance’s military connection and his sister’s address. It had been Halstead who approved them getting eyes on the target location while the tactical element mobilized. What he didn’t approve was the two investigators getting out on foot and closing the distance to the house.

Kelly knew that by following along with Gray's plan, he was stepping beyond the gray area of his new boss's orders, and he wasn't sure how that was going to play out after Halstead had admonished him the other day for failing to keep him in the loop. But if it meant capturing Christopher Vance, The Penitent One, then he was willing to take the tongue lashing and any potential fallout.

They moved slowly, stopping every ten to fifteen steps and taking up a position near a tree. From there, they looked through their binoculars’ scoped lenses and scanned the house. Still nothing. No new lights had been turned on since they’d first spotted the location. There was one on the upper floor of the two-story house, and it looked like two of the rooms on the bottom floor were illuminated. Otherwise, the house was dark.

Kelly got an incoming text alert from Barnes. “Arrest warrant a go. SWAT heading your way. Be safe.”

"Goes without saying, we should be ready for anything," Gray said.

Kelly had held up the text to Gray as his radio chirped to life. The volume was as low as it could go without deactivating, but in the dark stillness of the forest, it echoed. Kelly panicked trying to turn it lower but almost turned it off.

It was Halstead. "Tactical en route. ETA twenty minutes."

Kelly responded, "Roger that. We have eyes on the house. Lights on, no visual of the suspect." He then clicked his radio off.

"We've got twenty minutes to work our way around this house before tactical lights it up and the show really begins. Think we can make it?"

"I don't see why not. Just keep a steady pace,” Gray said, stepping off.

A few minutes later they were nearing the back of the house. They didn't need the binoculars at this point, although they continued to use them when they stopped.

The trees ran right up to the house, minus a twenty-foot open swath behind a patio.

"All right, this is where we should separate,” Gray said. “I can cover the back corner if you want to work your way around."

"Maybe with your military background, you should be the one sneaking around back,” Kelly said, thinking twice and defaulting to the man's special forces background.

"Fair enough." Gray peered out at the dense wood line.

Kelly took one step forward to better position himself behind a thick maple tree’s knotted trunk when he felt something snag his foot. He instinctively bent and tugged at it, thinking it was a vine or a root. His fingers immediately registered the difference.

He looked down at what he was caught up in. A small orb planted in the ground only a few feet high bounced a barely visible green beam of light against the outside of his boot. "What the hell is this?" Kelly said in a hushed whisper.

Gray bent down, clearing away some snow and underbrush around his boot. He canted his head sideways, running his eyes up and down the path of the beam. “Shit," he said. "Motion sensor."

"Like the exploding kind?" Kelly asked, his heart racing as he remembered the fireball at the Agawam house.

"No. But it’s tripped. If he's in there, he knows we're coming."

They both simultaneously looked toward the house. Kelly stepped over the wire and scanned with his binoculars. The light on the second floor went out.

"He's here. I'm going to be moving fast," Gray said. "If he pops up, cover me."

"Will do." Kelly shuffled further toward the house, watching where he stepped.

Gray was moving in a sweeping direction to flank around the back side of the house when he let out a blood-curdling scream.

Kelly left his position and sprinted over, trying to be as careful as possible, not sure where the threat was coming from. When he got to Gray, he was biting down hard on the sleeve of his heavy coat, muffling the screams of agony while gripping his right shin.

Kelly looked down and saw with dismay a bear trap had snapped shut against his shin bone. The teeth ripped through the jeans. Even in the poor light, Kelly could see the broken bone poking out of his skin. It was a devastating wound to behold. Warm blood melted the icy hardpack as tendrils of steam rose up around the injured leg.

This is bad. Kelly went for his radio.

Gray reached up and grabbed his arm. "He's going to be coming. No way he didn’t hear that. This wood line is probably loaded with them.” He grit his teeth in an effort to maintain composure. “There's no way around it. He's going to know where we are from the motion sensor. You've got to get ready."

"Your leg," Kelly said, looking down at it. "You're going to bleed out."

"I'll be okay." Gray immediately undid the belt from his pants and cinched a makeshift tourniquet just below his knee. "This will hold it. I'll be fine. Just make sure he doesn't get away. This is our only chance. Do you understand me? This is it."

Kelly nodded. "He's not going anywhere."

He moved out, disregarding the crunch of icy snow beneath his feet. Kelly was almost at a run when he slipped on a patch of ice. His feet shot out from under him and he landed flat on his back, knocking the wind out of himself momentarily. As he sat up, his face was peppered by fragmented wood chips, stinging his cold skin. Kelly looked up to see three holes punched in the bark of the tree in front of him.

He never heard the shots, even in