Moses (Men of Versteck Valley Book 2) Read online

  MOSES

  MEN OF VERSTECK VALLEY – BOOK 2

  by

  EROSA KNOWLES

  Moses – Men of Versteck Valley Book 2

  Erosa Knowles

  Copyright 2019 by Erosa Knowles

  First Edition Electronic March 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author‘s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from Erosa Knowles.

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK VERSION: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to one LEGAL copy for your own personal use. It is ILLEGAL to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in Federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Moses – Men of Versteck Valley - Book 2

  Taylor Rollins grew up in an unconventional household. When she turned 18, her father placed her and her twin, Travis on the company payroll to work alongside him as mercenaries. Taylor was the best long distance shooter on the team, which came in handy when they rescued five Marines who had been held captive in by a cruel, tyrant in the Middle East.

  Major Moses Sanderson thought he was tough and could handle anything until he and his small team was taken hostage by hostiles and tortured daily for two months. When Moses learns they were betrayed by one of their own he couldn’t rest until the culprit was hunted down and brought to justice.

  The problem with finding a traitor in a foreign country was compounded by Moses’ injuries and Taylor’s personal problems. Together they would need to find common ground to solve both challenges without losing focus or giving into the fiery attraction they felt for each other. Join Moses and Taylor’s adventure across the globe and Versteck Valley.

  >>>>>

  At the end of this story, I’ve included the first chapter of Drake’s story in Men of Versteck Valley Book 3. If you haven’t read Asher’s story, head over to Amazon and check it out!

  As always, I’d like to thank my family for their unwavering support and the women and men who write me asking for more stories. You keep me going! Thanks to Tristin, Karen, Michelle and the women who keep it real. Versteck Valley is a fictional town filled with extraordinary people. Enjoy!

  Erosa

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nestled under a copse of trees, Taylor scratched beneath the heavy, dark jacket she wore. On assignments, she always dressed as a male, with her hair braided tight and covered beneath two layers of caps. If the enemy ever got close enough to pull off her hat, her disguise wouldn’t matter anyway. Someone would be dead.

  Her brother Travis and five men, Henri, Jules, Franti, Liki, and Kensy, hand-picked for this operation by their father remained hidden in the trees a half mile from Ashad Fulnesh’s camp. The ruthless outlaw killed indiscriminately, young, old, men, women, children, anyone who got in his way or simply looked at him wrong. He had no conscience. Money and power were the gods that drove his acts of inhumane cruelty. Today would be the last day he caused a mother to cry over the death of her child or a father to beg for the life of his son.

  Her father, Turner, could pass for a native and spoke the local language and dialect flawlessly. Last week he took out one of Ashad’s guards and replaced him. They looked enough alike no one noticed or were too afraid of Ashad to say anything. Although he’d never been allowed to physically get close to Ashad or his top men, her father had given them the layout information to execute this job. The past three days her father systematically poisoned the water source Ashad and his men used, including their recent shipment of bottled water.

  Unknown to Ashad and his men, she and their small team broke into the storage facility holding Ashad’s delivery to compromise the bottles. Using a long needle, they inserted the poison just below the cap into each bottle. The delicate work had been time-consuming. She had messed up quite a few, but it was worth it to handicap their enemy.

  Not an enemy, exactly. A job. They had been contracted to get rid of the man. Sometimes a smaller, deadlier team, was the right ticket. They’d been working on this job for the past month, and today they’d storm the compound and rid the region of Ashad’s reign of terror.

  “Everyone ready?” Travis asked through their communicators.

  “Yes,” she said, rechecking her weapons.

  Four days ago, Taylor and the others had been in the village when she saw one of Ashad’s men drive down the single lane road as if he owned it. People dove out of the way to avoid being hit. He stopped at the edge of town and went into the brothel. Sensing an opportunity to learn something, she left the street and headed into the woods. Once there she pulled out a small amplification device her father made sure she and Travis carried with them at all times. “Never know when you might need to hear something,” he would say. She had hoped to learn something they could use for their mission.

  Hunkered down in the shadows, she couldn’t get a good signal and then climbed a tree in the nearby woods. Turning up the device to its fullest potential, she listened.

  “Ashad needs those weapons.”

  “Right now isn’t a good time. I explained that to him,” a man with an American accent said.

  “He’s captured the soldiers, they know nothing about our business with you.”

  “They knew I was operating in this area, not me specifically,” he corrected. “Still, they never should’ve been in this area. Someone’s talking.”

  “They won’t. They’ll die here,” Ashad’s man said.

  “Good. I’ll make arrangements to get your shipment to you. Should be here in less than a week.”

  “That will please him.”

  That was the day they learned five Marines had been taken by Ashad and were his prisoners in the compound. Her father agreed to alter their plans of destroying the compound to include rescuing the fallen soldiers first, leaving her in charge of that detail.

  “Henri, you’re with me.” She glanced to her right to the bald, compact, muscular man who could lift twice his body weight. He had taught her how to use a knife in combat and had been around most of her life. He was her father’s most trusted man and a good friend she depended on.

  He nodded but didn’t speak.

  “Waiting for Turner’s signal,” Travis said.

  It wouldn’t be long now. She had seen several guards leaving to handle their rounds taking bottles of water with them. Those were the ones they needed to fall first. Her stomach quivered as it normally did, either in excitement or fear, before they started a job. It kept her grounded.

  A guard on the roof fell holding his stomach. Another fell near the perimeter of the
camp. One by one they fell.

  “Counted ten down, 13 left on rounds. Find the three,” Travis said.

  Taylor eased back, crawling on her belly she searched the area for the three guards.

  “Got one,” Travis said. He threw a blade that hit deep in the chest. The guard fell forward.

  “Another is drinking his second bottle of water, let him die or kill him?” Jules asked. Average height with dark hair and fast hands, he could snap the guard’s neck in seconds.

  “Don’t risk exposure, let him die. Find the last one,” Travis said. “Never mind, I’ve got him.” Seconds later another blade sunk deep in the guard’s chest.

  “Get ready to go,” Travis said.

  Taylor held her semi-automatic in one hand and pulled the dark cloth over the lower half of her face and made sure her hair was covered. The oversized shirt and pants stuffed in dark boots allowed her to blend in with the rest of their squad.

  Poised and ready to finish the job, heart racing, Taylor ran forward the moment her brother gave the command. There were no wasted movements. They had practiced this operation over and over until they could do it in their sleep.

  She and Henri brought up the rear, covering the others. As one of the best shots on the team, normally she would remain a distance to pick off stragglers. With the wounded Marines, they didn’t have time to bring in another shooter, and could only hope no one decided to visit Ashad until after they finished the job.

  No one spoke as they entered the compound. Each person lying on the ground, dead or alive, received a bullet in the forehead. They met their father leaving a room and locking the door behind him.

  “Ashad and his core team,” he said and pointed to a corridor. Taylor and Henri ran down the hall. The door was locked. Henri kicked it in. A horrendous stench swept into the hall.

  On the floor, beaten, bruised and half-dead were five dirty men. The remains of two decaying, dead men lay in the far corner. Taylor’s heart wrenched at the thought of being too late to save the soldiers. Her stomach lurched at the smell as she and Henri went forward.

  “Take a picture of them first,” her father said from the door.

  She didn’t bother asking questions and took out her phone and snapped several pictures.

  “Take the ones alive out of here.” Her father stared at the dead men in the corner and walked out.

  She and Henri cut the rope that bound the men. Henri picked up the first man, slung him over his shoulder and ran out of the room. Taylor continued cutting the men free, hoping not to encounter another corpse.

  “Easy, easy, we’re getting you out of here. You’ll be going home soon. Hang in there,” she said in soothing tones when they tried to move. Relieved the five still breathed and wore their dog tags she continued removing the rope.

  Henri returned with another team member, they picked up two of the men and ran out to place them in the back of the van Franti had driven into the courtyard.

  Her father and Travis stepped into the room. Travis picked up one man, placed him on his shoulder and left the room.

  “Take them to Garace. He’ll work on them before we get them out of this region into Paksis, they’ll be picked up by their own there. Be mindful we’re on a schedule, be on that plane.”

  She nodded. Garace was a good doctor, expensive and particular about who he served. These men would have a fighting chance of survival under his care.

  Taylor stared at the last man. Her heart squeezed as she gazed at his swollen face, half-shut eyes, dark mottled skin from bruises all over his arms, chest, legs, and back. “Don’t give up. Fight to live. You can make it. Fight for your life.” His eyes remained closed, the next breath rattled in his chest, and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. It would be a miracle if he survived the drive to Garace. She looked at his dog collar and ignored everything except his name. Sanderson, Moses.

  Henri returned and picked up the last man. She followed him out to the van. Inside were bottles of clean water, clean blankets, antiseptic creams, and bandages. Initially, she planned to bandage their cuts and bruises, but they were in such bad shape, she might make things worse.

  As she, Travis, and Henri left the campground, she looked in the rear-view mirror, grabbed her rifle, and motioned for her brother to stop. In the distance, at least a mile away, two men ran toward the campground holding weapons.

  Her father and the others were placing explosives in the compound and didn’t see the oncoming threat. Travis pulled over and stopped allowing her to get out. Taylor relaxed into the moment, envisioned the first bullet hitting the man in the forehead and the next hitting the other man in the heart. She steadied the long-distance rifle in position and pulled the trigger twice.

  Both men dropped to the ground. Her father turned and looked behind him and then in her direction before continuing to set the compound ablaze.

  Henri whistled from inside the van. “Not many people could’ve made that shot. Good job, Taylor.”

  Warmth filled her chest at his praise. Henri didn’t talk much, but when he did everyone around them listened.

  “Thanks,” she said as she and Travis watched the woods for anyone else who might come forward.

  “Go,” her father said through a text. He and the rest of the team jumped into another truck and drove in the opposite direction. Taylor and Travis reentered the van and moved off before the place blew up.

  Ashad’s family would not benefit from his ill-gotten wealth, it would burn along with him and his men. She turned in the seat, glanced at the men lying on the flatbed of the van and hoped they made it out of this area before Ashad’s enemies realized it was safe to drive across his land.

  >>

  The drive across the rough terrain hadn’t been easy for the soldiers in the back. Two groaned and woke long enough to drink water, ask where they were and said thank you before falling back to sleep. Sanderson’s wounds had reopened when Henri picked him up and placed him in the truck, that couldn’t be helped. Taylor understood why Travis drove at a sedate pace to allay suspicion but wished they could make better time. Soon they would be in a friendlier area, she just hoped Sanderson and the others survived.

  When they turned onto the main road, Taylor released a pent-up breath. In less than 30 minutes they would be at Dr. Garace’s, a retired medic who, for a large fee, administered expert medical care. The older man was in demand by certain parties not only for the high level of care he provided but also because he kept no record of visits and invested in good security.

  “Hang in there,” she said, unsure if any of the men heard her or would survive. They’d been hurt so bad she wondered how long they had been with Ashad.

  Travis turned into the doctor’s courtyard and waited for one of the servants to let them in. Moments later they drove beneath a covered portico as the servant locked the gate behind them. Dr. Garace, a short man with graying hair and slender frame, stood waiting with two gurneys.

  “Take the worst two in first, then come back for the others,” the doctor instructed his staff as he climbed into the back and looked over each man.

  They took the one who had been bleeding and another with a broken arm. Drawn to Sanderson, she followed them inside, watched as they moved them to beds and returned to bring in the others.

  Dr. Garace examined the men in silence. “This one’s in bad shape,” he muttered without looking at her. They were all in bad shape, she thought as he looked over the other man, nodding.

  “They just need to be patched up well enough to be picked up in a few days, right?” He didn’t look at her when he spoke.

  “Yes, none of them can die,” she added in case he wasn’t clear on that point. Sometimes doctors in this part of the world acted like gods. Not today.

  He looked at her then. “I am only a man and will do my best.”

  Two others were brought in and placed on beds.

  “For what we’re paying you, none of them can die,” she said pissed by his cavalier attitude.


  His gaze narrowed at her and he stopped his examination. “I always do my best, which is why your father pays me high fees. If you’d prefer someone else to look after these men…” He shrugged.

  Taylor pulled out her gun and pointed it at him. “If he dies, you die.” At that moment she would have shot him between his eyes and not blinked. These men had been through more than enough, and this asshole had better step up his game and attitude, especially for Sanderson, the first man he blithely looked over. Couldn’t he see that this man was hanging on by a thread?

  Dr. Garace’s face blanched as he stared at her.

  “She means it,” Travis said from the door. The doctor had provided emergency surgery on her once to remove a bullet and was one of the few people who knew she was female. “Get started, we’re on a tight schedule and need to get them out of here.”

  “But, but she’s pointing a gun at me.” The doctor’s head swung from her to Travis and then at his servants who brought in the last man and placed him on a bed. Henri stood behind them holding his semi-automatic.

  “How am I supposed to work under these conditions?”

  Travis waved aside his complaints. “Can you get started, please? That one is bleeding, you should stop that. Have your people clean these wounds and get them bandaged so we can go.” He waved at her.

  She lowered her hand but didn’t put the gun away. Instead, she glared at the doctor until he returned to work on the badly damaged soldier.

  Travis, her twin, moved closer to her and handed her a bag. “Eat. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

  She took the bag, looked inside and pulled out a cold meat pie. It didn’t take long to eat both pies and wash them down with a bottle of water.

  “I uploaded those photos to the internet. Seems these men have been missing for almost two months. Got the names too, they match the dog tags. All accounted for.” He looked at his phone. “Major Moses Sanderson, he’s the big one in the worse condition, the one you were talking too in the van who needed stitches. Raoul Pence.” He looked at the five men. “That’s the Spanish looking one with the broken arm.”