Ride the Fire by Jo Davis Read Free Book Online

them by the late Forrest Prescott was serving them well, so far. The cash had paid for weapons, explosives, this place. The men had to be paid, too, since the sons of bitches wouldn’t work for free. Sugarland’s deceased and disgraced city manager had proved to be a useful tool in the ongoing fight against a government doing its best to communize. A government that didn’t give a fuck about its soldiers or civilians.
    Yeah, too bad Prescott, the idiot, had gotten himself killed. He could’ve done more good before his number came up. But such was the way of war.
    Jesse ought to know.
    Shoving down the bad memories before they could take hold, the rage that always came with the pain of remembered betrayal, he continued to scan the area, noting the ancient but sturdy white frame house nestled at the base of the rolling, wooded hills. Beyond the rise behind the house, about one hundred yards away, he knew there was an equally ancient tobacco barn that had been modified and shored up in advance by some of his men. From the outside, nobody would think the structure to be anything other than what it appeared—a defunct relic of Tennessee history.
    Inside, underneath the weathered flooring and protected in a brand-new concrete bunker? A real big, nasty surprise for the good folks of central Tennessee, and more importantly the U.S. government.
    Two men stepped onto the front porch, letting the screen door bang shut behind them, and headed toward him. His lieutenants, Grimes and Hammer. Grimes was a thin, wiry guy with long, stringy dark hair and beady eyes, like a rat. Moved like one, too, quiet and furtive. Hammer got his nickname for one obvious reason—the big SOB had a fist like one. Jesse had seen the man kill with a single blow. Both were loyal, as committed to the cause as Jesse.
    Grimes clapped his shoulder in greeting, speaking up first. “Been too quiet around here without you to keep the men on their toes. They’re gettin’ antsy.”
    Jesse didn’t smile or return the gesture. Any hint of humanity was a leader’s fatal mistake. “They won’t be sitting on their asses much longer. We’ve got plenty of work to do before showtime.” He flicked a hand at the place. “Good setup. Plenty of land, big house with a basement for us and the weapons. Barn for storing our special surprise, nearest neighbors two miles away through the woods. It’s closer to town than I wanted, but I think this will suit our needs just fine.”
    “Wasn’t no place else around that met our requirements,” Hammer put in, head back, face expressionless.
    “It’ll do.” Jesse started for the house, leaving the men to trail in his wake. “Choose several men to help you get our cargo moved to the barn.”
    So much to accomplish, and he was eager to get started. He scented blood in the water, and like any good shark, he was ready to tear into his prey. Almost twenty years of slowly building his army, of gathering intel, carefully planning his vengeance, and he was so near the culmination of his dreams he could taste success. He couldn’t sleep for anticipating the shock and horror on his enemies’ faces—the entire nation’s—when they saw what he’d done. When they experienced the horror of their own making unleashed against them.
    When they learned what happens to those who betray Jesse Rose.
    Climbing the porch steps, he lifted a hand, rubbed at the puckered scar on his chest just there, beneath his T-shirt. Right over his heart.
    The same heart that had almost been blown away, both figuratively and literally, by a man he’d believed to be his best friend.
    Jesse learned his lessons well, and he never forgot them. Three years ago, he’d finally put the last of his plans into action. And since he was a patient man, he’d worked toward this day and the ones to come.
    I’ve enjoyed watching your downfall, Sean. Trust me, old friend. You haven’t yet begun to suffer.
    And suffer he would. Jesse considered it his little side