strong vengeance; a caitlin strong novel

7/31/2019 Strong Vengeance; A Caitlin Strong Novel

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed inthis novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

STRONG VENGEANCE

Copyright 2012 by Jon Land

All rights reserved.

A Forge Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC175 Fifth AvenueNew York, NY 10010

www.tor-forge.com

Forgeis a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Land, Jon. Strong vengeance / Jon Land.1st ed. p. cm. ISBN 978-0-7653-3099-4 (hardcover) ISBN 978-1-4299-9278-7 (e-book) 1. Texas RangersFiction. 2. Treasure trovesFiction. 3. Terrorism PreventionFiction. I. Title. PS3562.A469S84 2012 813'.54dc23

2012011654

First Edition: July 2012

Printed in the United States of America

0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1


3/13

S A,

This isnt your play, Ranger Strong, Captain Consuelo Alonzo of the

San Antonio police said to Caitlin Strong beneath an overhang outside

the Thomas C. Clark High School. Her hands were planted on herhips, one of them squeezing a pair of sunglasses hard enough to crush

the frame.

Caitlin took off her Stetson and let the warm spring sunlight drench

her face and raven-black hair that swam past her shoulders. Her cheeks

felt ushed and she could feel the heat building behind them. Shed left

her own sunglasses back in her SUV, forcing her to keep her view shielded

from the sun, which left the focused intensity in her dark eyes clearenough for anyone to see. Her cheekbones were ridged and angular,

meshed so perfectly with her jawline that her face had the appearance of

one drawn to life by an artist.

Caitlin met Alonzos stare with her own, neither of them budging.

Then I guess I heard wrong about a boy with a gun holding hostages

in the school library.

No, you heard right about that. But this isnt a Ranger matter. Ididnt call you in and my SWAT teams already deployed.

Caitlin gazed at the modern two-story, L-shaped mauve building

shaded by thick elm and oak trees. The main entrance was located at


4/13

J O N L A N D

the point of the school where the L broke directly before a nest of

rhododendron bushes, from which rose the school marquee listing up-

coming events, including graduation and senior prom. A barricade had

been erected in haphazard fashion halfway to the street to hold anxious

and frantic parents behind a combination of sawhorses, traffic cones,

and strung-together rope.

SWAT team for one boy with a gun? Caitlin raised.

A news helicopter circled above, adding to Alonzos discomfort.

You have a problem with that? Or maybe youve never heard of Co-

lumbine?

Any shots fired yet?No, and thats the way we want to keep it.

Then I do have a problem, Captain. I do indeed.

Alonzos face reddened so fast it looked as if she were holding her

breath. Shed lost considerable weight since the day Caitlin had met her

inside San Antonios Central Police Substation a couple years back. They

had maintained a loose correspondence mostly via e-mail ever since,

both appreciating the trials and tribulations of women trying to make itin the predominantly male world of law enforcement. Plenty accused

Caitlin of riding her legendary father and grandfathers coattails straight

into the Rangers. But Alonzos parents were Mexican immigrants who

barely spoke English and lacked any coattails to ride whatsoever. She was

still muscular and had given up wearing her hair in a bun, opting instead

for a shorter cut matted down by her cap.

This is the Masters boys school, isnt it? Alonzo asked Caitlin.Yes, maam. And he still uses his mothers last nameTorres.

Well, I can tell you the son of that outlaw boyfriend of yours is in

one of the classrooms ordered into lockdown while we determine if

there are any other perpetrators involved.

Caitlin glanced at the black-clad commandos squatting tensely on

either side of the entrance. When was the last time your SWAT team

deployed?Thats none of your goddamn business.

Any shots fired, innocents wounded?

The veins over Alonzos temples began to throb. Youre wasting my

time, Ranger.


5/13

S V

And youre missing the point. Youre going in with SWAT without

exhausting any of the easier options.

Like what?

Me, Caitlin told her.

S A,

It had been four months now since Cort Wesley Masters had turned

himself into the Texas authorities on an extradition request from the

Mexican government. The first two of those months had been spent in

a federal lockup and the next two in the infamous Mexican Cereso

prison just over the border in Nuevo Laredo across the Rio Grande.

With no other adult in the lives of his two teenage sons besides an aunt

who lived in Arizona they didnt remember meeting, Caitlin had takenit upon herself to step in and fill the void.

Shed moved into their home in the San Antonio suburb of Shavano

Park, never imagining Cort Wesleys freedom wouldnt be secured in a

timely manner, much less him being imprisoned south of the border.

Having the responsibility for his boys, Dylan and Luke, thrust upon

her for what was now an indefinite stretch of time left her feeling

trapped and claustrophobic. On edge like a tightrope walker negotiat-ing a typically precarious balance, while blindfolded to boot since shed

never been responsible for anyone but herself. Given her already close

relationship with the boys, Caitlin had assumed the transition would

be easy and the duration relatively short, neither of which had proven

true. Rangering and childrearing, even in modern times, just didnt

seem to mix well. Although shed cut back on her duties as much as pos-

sible, raising a pair of teenagers was without question a full-time jobthat had hit her with the brunt force of a glass door you didnt know was

there.

Mexican authorities havent given at all on the visitation rights,

Caitlin had told her captain, D. W. Tepper, just yesterday in the smaller,


6/13

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shaded office hed moved into because it was cooler in the hot summer

months. The office already smelled of Brut aftershave and stale cigarette

smoke with stray wisps clinging to the shadowy corners well after Tepper

had finished sneaking a Marlboro.

What happened that one time they let you in?

I made a few comments about the conditions.

Imagine that didnt go over too well.

Apparently not.

State Department help some?

Well, since they got involved even the e-mails stopped. He could

be dead for all we know.This is Cort Wesley Masters were talking about, Ranger, Tepper

said matter-of-factly, as if that were something Caitlin didnt already

know.

So?

He aint dead. Tepper pulled his finger from a furrow that looked

like a valley on his face and checked the nail as if expecting hed pulled

something out with it. Hows this mothering thing going?How do you think? I figured it would last a few weeks tops. That

was four months ago now.

No choice I can see. And theyre good boys anyway, less Dylan

gets it in his head to mix it up with stone killers again.

I think hes had his fill of that. Caught him with a joint, though.

You arrest him?

Thought about it.Shoot him?

Thought about that too.

I caught my oldest smoking a Winston when he was twelve. Made

him put it out and eat the damn thing.

Now that, Caitlin told Tepper, I didnt think about. I dont believe

its a regular thing.

Course its not, Tepper said with a smirk. Never is for a highschool boy.

Dylans got himself in the Honors program now. Starting to get his

mind set on college, even talking about a college prep year. And Lukes

so smart its downright scary.


7/13

S V

Tepper leaned back in his desk chair far enough to make Caitlin think

he was going to topple over. So hows it feel?

Hows what feel?

Hanging up your guns.

When you start doing stand-up comedy?

When was the last time you drew your pistol?

Been awhile.

Patriot Sun shoot-out, right?

Whats your point, Captain?

That in a crazy way this experience has been good for you. Some-

thing to bring you into the current century instead of fancying yourselfthe last of the old-time gunfighters.

It was never me doing the fancying.

You embrace it or not?

Whats that matter?

Tepper tightened his gaze on her, the spider veins seeming to lengthen

across his cheeks. Its bound to catch up with you, thats all Im saying.

You ever been known to be wrong?I was going to ask you the same question.

Nobodys perfect, D.W.

Teppers eyes didnt seem to blink, looking tired and drawn. Cept

when you draw your gun, Ranger, youd better be.

S A,

Captain Consuelo Alonzo closed the gap between them in a single quick

step, close enough for Caitlin to smell sweet perfume and stale spear-

mint gum. Alonzos neck was sunburned as if she was religious aboutslathering sunscreen on her face while neglecting pretty much every-

where else.

Listen to me and listen good, Ranger, she said, shoulders stiff and

squared, to Caitlin. You got a reputation that precedes you by about a


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mile, and the last thing we need is your trigger finger making the call

in there.

Save it, Captain, Caitlin returned dismissively. I had six weeks

training with the FBI in Quantico and Ive diffused more hostage situ-

ations without gunplay than your SWAT team has even dreamed of.

And this has nothing to do with Cort Wesley Masterss son being

inside the building?

You told me he was in a locked-down classroom, not a hostage.

School of fifteen hundred, nice to see youve got your thumb so centered

on the situation.

Alonzos cheeks puckered, her eyes suddenly having trouble meetingCaitlins. Truth is we havent got a firm fix on who the gunmans hold-

ing in the library.

I thought so. What about the suspect?

Near as we can tell its a junior named William Langdon, age six-

teen. Honor student with no previous criminal record. Principal says

hes been bullied.

Caitlin turned her gaze again on two SWAT officers poised on eitherside of the school entrance, armed to the teeth and wearing black gear

and body armor. Yeah, men like that oughtta be able to talk him down

for sure.

Why dont you just button it up?

Because your actions are about to get people killed, Captain.

Im well aware of the risk, Ranger.

I dont believe you are. In rescue situations most hostages are actu-ally shot by SWAT team commandos acting like theyre playing paint-

ball. Once the bullets start ying, they tend to do strange things, like hit

people they werent necessarily aimed at who have a tendency to start

running in all directions.

Alonzo looked Caitlin in the eye again. You know your problem? You

take this One Riot, One Ranger crap too much to heart. That might

have been the case a hundred fifty years ago, but the simple truth is its notany more. Youre a dinosaur, Ranger Strong, a goddamn anachronism.

You finished, Captain?

Yes, I am, and so are you. You just havent figured it out yet.


9/13

S V

Spine stiffened, Captain Alonzo walked off to confer with a San An-

tonio deputy police chief whod just arrived to provide political cover

once the press showed up in full force. Caitlin waited until Alonzos

back was turned before approaching the school entrance as if she was

doing exactly what she was supposed to, pausing at the entrance to eye

the SWAT commandos posted on either side.

Im glad to be in the background on this one, boys, she said, reach-

ing for the glass door. Dont bother moving. Ill let myself in.

S A,

The only sound she heard from that point was the soft echo of her

boots clacking against the tile oor. Caitlin knew the layout of Thomas

C. Clark High School pretty much by heart, but this was the first timeshed ever walked these halls when they were so empty and quiet. Her

only company as she drew closer to the library were members of Cap-

tain Alonzos SWAT team at various strategic positions in sight of the

school library entrance. All of the commandos tensed further at her ap-

proach, their ak jackets seeming to grow as if pumped with air. But not

a single one made a move to approach and signal her back. Even with her

own experience and legacy to uphold, it never ceased to amaze Caitlinthe degree of respect Rangers commanded. No one, law enforcement or

otherwise, ever questioned their presence or involvement.

Still, there was no doubt several members of the SWAT team were

currently reporting her presence in the building over the microphones

built into their helmets. Those reports would throw Alonzo into a rage,

though there was nothing either she or her commandos could do about

it at this point.Caitlin felt her focus seem to tighten, every one of her senses sharp-

ening as the library came into clear view, endless shelves of books visible

through story glass panes mounted high on the wall. She felt her heart


10/13

J O N L A N D

continuing to race before suddenly slowing to a heavy rhythmic throb in

her chest. Her legendary grandfather, Earl Strong, had told her count-

less stories about the many gunfights hed managed to survive, always

stressing those moments before the inevitable transcended. The feeling

was surreal, almost dreamlike, close to feeling detached from your own

body. Once a gunfight began, instinct took over to the point where it felt

like someone else was pulling the trigger. Earl had told her that the an-

ticipation was worse because it was so hard to keep the mind focused on

the task at hand with so many other thoughts clamoring to be heard.

Caitlin slid past the six SWAT commandos positioned to stage their

attack through the librarys two separate entry doors. All the windowblinds were drawn, denying view in but view out as well, which would

keep William Langdon from seeing more commandos prepared to storm

the room.

As she neared the door, Caitlin spotted the SWAT team leader and

pointed to her eyes. He responded by pointing out the sixteen-year-old

captors position inside. Then, without hesitation, she was through the

door and immediately awash in the scent of books, glue bindings, andpaper. The deserted hallways had maintained the smell of AXE body

spray and owery shampoo or perfume, mixed with denim and leather.

But inside the library the smell of fear quickly rose above that of books

and everything else.

Her own hands in the air, Caitlins eyes instinctively swept across

the terrified faces of the hostages seated on chairs at large rectangular

tables or on the oor. Her first thought was how young they looked, allthe teenage bravado lost to the terror of having their lives threatened

by an indiscriminate gunman. Their eyes pleaded with her for help,

rescue, solaceanything. And, with that in mind, Caitlin turned her

gaze to an overweight boy with a full, round face muddied by red patches

of acne growing beneath hair tangled in grease. He stood with his back

against a shelf support holding a collection of the old Encyclopedia Bri-

tannica. His shoulders and back were stiff, the Glock 19 with extendedthirty-shot magazine quivering slightly in his grasp.

I imagine this isnt the way you thought this day was gonna go when

it started, Caitlin said, heart strangely steadied. She stood so straight she


11/13

S V

might have been about to reach up for something, shifting her weight

forward onto her toes to facilitate the quick motion she might need.

I couldve shot you when you came through that door, the boy said

to her.

Caitlin swallowed hard, her mouth dry and tongue pasty. She now

bore the awesome responsibility for the fate of the hostages. However

this turned out, it was all on her. For a brief moment she began to rethink

the steps that had brought her this far, then refocused herself on the

overweight boy before her, seeing only his gun.

But you didnt, she said, because thats not what you are or who

you are, son.Im not your son.

True, but youre a son of Texas, thats for sure, and as a Texas Ranger,

that places you in my regard and makes you my concern.

Thats a load of crap and you know it.

William, you hand me that gun and walk out of here by my side

and I promise you thats where youll stay until all this gets sorted out.

Thats a promise from me and the Rangers. You made a mistake, but sofar no ones been hurt and theres still time to get out of this with that

remaining the case.

Im scared, William Langdon said, his entire body starting to trem-

ble, the pistol in his hand shaking as if attached to a paint mixer. Caitlin

began to fear, along with everything else, he might open fire accidentally.

I know.

No, you dont. You dont understand!Im willing to try. Just lay that gun down and give me a chance.

I . . . cant.

His eyes shifted to the right, subtly but enough to make Caitlin won-

der why he was looking that way. The gun looked all wrong in William

Langdons hand, hardly strong or firm enough to hold it up with the

extended magazine, which meant, which meant . . .

Which meant what?Caitlin felt a utter ripple up her spine. Something was wrong here,

something beyond the thinking of Captain Alonzo and her commandos.

I . . . cant.


12/13

J O N L A N D

Why cant you, William? Caitlin asked in her mind, seeing in the

boys eyes not just resignation but fear that mirrored what shed seen on

the faces of the roughly thirty hostages seated at tables or clinging to

the oor. The same eyes that had just managed a sidelong glance.

What was she missing?

Were gonna get out of this together, William, Caitlin said, find-

ing his eyes with hers, stalling for time to make sense of what felt wrong

about this. Youre no killer, son. You never hurt anybody in your life no

matter how much they hurt you. You think I dont know how you feel?

You dont!

Think again. When most girls were gossiping and playing sportsin high school, I was out shooting guns. I smelled of gun oil instead of

perfume and I never had a boyfriend. But I knew who I was and that

made it all right.

You dont know me,you dont! the boy sputtered.

I know this isnt you. I know somebody put you up to it. The words

coming now ahead of Caitlins thinking, as everything fell into place.

What William Langdon had been looking at, what she had missed. AndI know hes in this room right now.

With that, she snapped her right hand downward and in a ash of

motion whipped her SIG from its holster. Already twisting, searching

for the motion she knew would come.

And it did.

A rangy, stringy-haired boy whipped a cheap, semiauto submachine

gun from under his leather jacket. Even from forty feet away to her left,she could see his eyes bursting with rage, the thirst for violence frozen

on his expression. He almost grinned as he turned the MAC-10 not on

her, but on a boy wearing a Lettermans jacket seated at a nearby table.

In her mind Caitlin saw herself shooting for his wrist, blowing the

MAC-10 out of his grasp. But at this point instinct was in command,

conscious thought burnished to the background.


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strong vengeance; a caitlin strong novel

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