The Sean Wyatt Series Box Set 4

by Ernest Dempsey

  He held out the box directly over Sean and let go. The object fell straight into Sean's hands. He cushioned the fall and cradled the box carefully to make sure the sudden stop wouldn't harm anything inside.

  Tommy lowered himself down the wall, and when he was about six feet up, let go and dropped to the ground. His shoes hit the floor with a thud, and he grunted. He dusted himself off and clenched his fingers. The muscles in his forearms still burned from the workout.

  Sean knelt down near one of the lights and rotated the box a few times to get a better look at it. The metal appeared to be tin, dented and worn out by the ravages of time and weather. Being down in the cave had protected it from some of the elements, but the damp conditions could have ruined anything inside. Sean wasn't about to open the box in there. They'd need to do that in a contained environment.

  Tommy stood close, inspecting the thing with his friend as he turned it over in his hands.

  "What do you say we get out of here and get this thing to a nice, dry lab?" Tommy asked.

  "Good call. Here," Sean handed Tommy the box. "I'll get the lights and gear."

  A loud boom rocked the entire cave. Pieces of ceiling broke loose and dropped to the ground, shattering at Sean's and Tommy's feet. They looked up at the same time and saw another large, flat piece breaking free.

  Sean grabbed his friend and ducked to the side just in time as the huge piece of rock crashed to the ground. The room dimmed suddenly, one of the heavy sections of ceiling crushing a light in the mayhem.

  12

  Washington

  Adriana sprinted down the hotel corridor, bumping into people and weaving past them as she gave chase. Her heart pounded with every step. Someone had tried to kill the president. Her money was on the guy in the suit running thirty feet ahead.

  Amid the chaos, no one had seen her or the man she was chasing as they ran out of the grand ballroom and into the hall. Most of the security teams were flooding into where the president was making his speech. Members of a SWAT team charged forward into the ballroom while other cops started setting up a perimeter just outside the doors.

  The guy Adriana was following avoided all that, which told her whoever he was, he had a good sense of procedure.

  He ducked to the right, down a side hall, and slowed down as she rounded the corner. His attempt to look casual was a smart move, since a guy running from an assassination attempt on the president would seem a tad on the suspicious side.

  She slowed as well after rounding the corner and realizing her target was no longer running. His head swiveled around, and he gave her a short look over his shoulder. Adriana played it cool and flashed her best flirty yet slightly nervous grin.

  The corner of his lip stretched for a moment, a feeble effort to return the smile. Then, like a frightened deer, he bolted through the door on the left.

  Adriana's instinct was to rush in after him, but that would put her at a disadvantage. The guy could easily be waiting on the other side of the door, ready to pounce or shoot, or anything. Then again, if she didn't pursue, he would get away.

  She reached the door and waited a moment. Unarmed, she was still dangerous. That didn't mean she wasn't wishing for a pistol. She looked down the hallway as two more police officers ran by. Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and she twisted. The door opened with a faint creak, and she spun around the edge to get a peek inside. Staying on the balls of her feet, she twisted one more step beyond the doorway's threshold and over to the other side.

  The quick look revealed an empty maintenance corridor lined with painted cinder block walls and illuminated by sterile fluorescent lights down the ceiling's center.

  She poked her head back through the door frame and looked again. She heard footsteps on the thin carpet. He was on the run again.

  Adriana hurried into the hallway and turned right at an intersection with another corridor. Her quarry was nearly at the other end. She pumped her legs as fast as she could, but there was no way to catch him before he slammed through the door and out into the street.

  Seconds later, Adriana ran into the door, barging the lever to undo the latch. Her body shuddered against the metal, only able to open the thing a few inches. Dull pain radiated through her shoulder from the impact. She looked down through the crack in the door and saw a trash can propped up against the handle.

  She stepped back and kicked the door lever. The sudden jarring blow freed the door from the makeshift brace. It flew open and slammed against the wall.

  Adriana poked her head around the corner. She was in an alley just off one of the main streets. To the right, the street ended in a brick wall. To the left, cops swarmed into the area, running to the scene of the attempted assassination. Various sirens screamed from ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars.

  Something metal clanked from the other side of the brick wall to the right. Adriana frowned. He went over the wall?

  She didn't stop long enough to debate the possibility in her head. If the guy had gone left, he'd have run headlong into the police. Considering what just happened, they'd be questioning everyone.

  "You! Stop right there!" a voice yelled from the left.

  Adriana saw a cop stalking toward her with gun drawn. He was still a good fifty to sixty feet away, much too far for him to be accurate with the weapon.

  Her feet shifted toward the right. Her muscles tensed, and she took off.

  "Hey! Stop!"

  The cop fired.

  The round ricocheted off the wall next to her.

  She heard him shouting into his radio, calling for backup just before he fired another shot.

  "I said stop!" he shouted again.

  Adriana bent her run toward the end wall to give her a better approach.

  She neared the corner and jumped.

  Her right foot planted against the side wall and pushed off. She did the same with her left foot on the end wall, back to the side wall, and once more until she landed on the top. The cop fired one last time as she dropped over the side.

  Adriana gripped the concrete top of the wall with white-knuckled fingers, lowering herself to a safe distance before she let go and fell to the ground.

  Her feet hit the asphalt hard, and she rolled to a stop on one knee. Her chest expanded and contracted, taking in big breaths of air. She couldn't take a break, though. The guy was nowhere in sight, and if he got away, she feared no one would catch him.

  She pushed herself to get up and run again. Her legs felt like they were tied to bags of sand, but she kept going.

  Up ahead, the next street was quieter than the last even though the sounds of sirens still echoed through the concrete-and-brick canyon.

  There was no sign of the guy, and when she hit the sidewalk, she'd have to make a decision if he was out of sight.

  She ran by a blue dumpster and was about to reach the corner when a garbage can flew at her face, striking her square in the forehead.

  The blow knocked her onto her back. The buildings, the sounds, the smells of days-old garbage all swirled in her head.

  The man she'd been chasing stepped out of the shadows and loomed over her. He was about to speak, but she kicked her foot up and planted the top of her foot right in his groin.

  He doubled over with a grunt.

  Adriana managed to roll onto her side and kicked again, this time striking the man's heel and knocking him on his back.

  She planted her hands on the cold asphalt and spun to a fighting stance as he scrambled to recover. Her next attack was swift, but he was ready, easily deflecting her right jab, left, right again, and then swatting away an attempt to kick him in the gut.

  He countered with a right hook that caught her in the jaw and knocked her back a few steps.

  Her left ear rang from the blow, and a stinging, throbbing pain pulsed through her face. He charged, aiming to dig his shoulder into her midsection, but she sidestepped the attack and stuck her foot out. It hit his shin and, combined with the momentum, sent him stumbling onto h
is face.

  Adriana moved fast in spite of the aching in her jaw and forehead, rushing to where he clambered to get up. She swung her foot again, this time striking him on the side of the head.

  The shot sent him back to the ground, this time with a series of low moans. He scratched at the pavement, desperately trying to claw his way free of the attack.

  Adriana pounced, driving her elbow into his upper back then pounding both sides of his face with one hammer fist after another.

  He tried to cover his head with both hands like a prize fighter who'd all but lost.

  Her arms felt like Jell-O and grew heavier with every punch.

  "Stop right there!" a man's voice yelled.

  Adriana panted for air. Her heart was racing. Strands of her brown hair had broken loose of the ponytail and hung around her face and ears. She didn't look up immediately, instead just staring down at the groaning man.

  "Put your hands up high where I can see 'em," the cop said.

  A second later, three more cops appeared around the corner with weapons drawn.

  The first one stepped cautiously toward her, approaching as he would a venomous snake coiled under a tree and ready to strike.

  Adriana's eyes darted from one cop to the next.

  "I said put your hands up!" the leader ordered once more. "Don't make me tell you again!"

  Adriana gradually straightened her spine. She raised her hands as smoothly as she could, careful not to make any sudden movements.

  "This guy is the one you're looking for," she said. "He was in the ballroom when the shots were fired. I think he's the one who tried to kill the president."

  "Be quiet!" the cop yelled.

  "But he's the one you want."

  "I said be quiet! Now, nice and easy, get off him, and stay on your knees!"

  Adriana didn't try to hide the confusion on her face as she moved one leg over the beaten man. Once both knees were on the ground next to him, two of the other cops moved in while the first to arrive and one other officer kept their weapons trained on her.

  "Aren't you going to arrest him?" she asked.

  The two approaching her, grabbed her by the wrists, and shoved her face into the pavement. The cold, jagged asphalt scratched her cheek. The arresting officers didn't try to be gentle.

  They forced her hands behind her back and secured cuffs tightly around the base of her wrists.

  "Why aren't you arresting him?" she asked again, pushing the issue. "I've done nothing wrong. He's the one you want."

  "If you say anything again, I will put a bullet through your head."

  The threat silenced her for the moment. She'd never heard a cop speak that way and was fairly certain that wasn't standard operating procedure.

  "Your car close?" the one in charge asked.

  The two apprehending Adriana stood up, lifting her with hands underneath her armpits.

  "Yeah, just right out there," the one on her right said.

  "Good. Get her out of here."

  "Take her to the precinct, sir?" the one on her left said. He was younger, probably in his mid-twenties. His face gave off the appearance he was still a teenager.

  The cop in charge shook his head. "No. She's not under arrest."

  The young cop looked confused. "I don't understand, sir. What are we doing with her, then?"

  The lead cop turned his weapon and fired a bullet through the young man's forehead. His wide eyes froze permanently in shock as he fell over onto his side.

  "We have an officer down. Repeat, officer down. Please send backup." He rattled off his location as the cop on Adriana's right tugged her toward the street.

  She watched in horror as the one in charge turned his weapon to the gunman on the ground. He tried to push himself up on all fours, but another shot rang out, planting a round in the back of his skull.

  He collapsed, prostrate on the pavement, and went completely still.

  The lead cop turned to the remaining two. "Johnson, stay here with me. Tulley"—he turned to the other—"get her out of here. Dump the body. Then report back to the hotel."

  The men nodded.

  Adriana didn't need to ask what was going on. Now it was clear. The police—at least some of them—were in on the assassination attempt. Who knew how deep the rabbit hole went?

  Another thing was certain: the second she got in the back of that squad car, she'd be dead.

  She knew police procedure. She knew their moves, their defenses, how they would react to resistance from a prisoner. So, she did the one thing they wouldn't expect.

  She waited until they were out of the other two cops' view. Just feet from the back door of the squad car, her arms and legs suddenly went limp. The cop handling her felt her body suddenly get very heavy, and he strained to keep her up.

  His grip slipped off her forearm as she fell to one knee.

  "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" he asked.

  He didn't realize he'd already fallen into her trap.

  The cop bent down to force her onto her feet, and that's when she struck. Her right heel kicked backward, digging deep into his groin. His head lurched forward from the abrupt and terrible pain. She sensed his head close and snapped hers back, crunching his nose with the top of her skull.

  He howled in agony, dropping to his knees with one hand on his man parts, the other on his now-bleeding nose.

  "You b—" He started to spit out the insult, but it was cut short.

  Adriana spun to her feet and whipped her left foot around, plowing the bone into the side of his head and driving him to the ground.

  She worked fast, securing the keys from his belt first and then snagging the weapon from his holster. Sirens wailed from a few blocks away. Reinforcements would be here any second.

  She was lucky no one was around, the area having been marked off for the president's visit. On a normal day, the sidewalks and streets would have been flooded with people on their daily commute.

  Adriana aimed the weapon into the alley, gripping it with both hands since they were still in cuffs.

  The other two hadn't heard the scuffle. She hurried over to the squad car and unlocked it. Next, she removed the cuffs and started to slide into the seat when she realized something. The cop she'd just struck was still unconscious, and the other two were tending to the bodies in the alley.

  A crazy thought ran through her head as she stared at the cop on the ground. It was risky, but she needed answers.

  13

  Ringgold

  Clouds of dust hovered for several minutes in the dimly lit cave. Sean and Tommy did their best to cover their mouths to keep as much of the debris out of their lungs as possible.

  "What was that?" Tommy said in a loud voice.

  The ground and walls around them had stopped shaking almost immediately after the blast. Broken pieces of ceiling were strewn across the floor.

  Sean shook his head. "If I didn't know better, I'd say C4."

  Tommy coughed. He pressed the bottom of his shirt closer to his nose and mouth to seal out the dust.

  "C4? Isn't that a little hard to come by?"

  "Not if you have the right military connections," Sean said.

  "I guess these guys have them."

  Sean nodded. "Seems that way."

  He trudged up the slope to the rock wall in the middle of the path. He climbed up the big stones to the top and then crawled back to the other end.

  Tommy followed his friend back to the wall and waited at the bottom.

  "See anything up there?" His voice echoed throughout passage.

  Sean peered into the darkness. He had his phone in his hand but kept the light off. He wanted to see if any light was coming into the cave from the entrance. It only took him a second before he had a horrifying realization.

  The cave was sealed off.

  "The entrance," he said, "it's blocked."

  "Blocked?" The early stages of panic quivered in Tommy's voice. "How bad is it?"

  "Won't know until we go
up there and check it out, but from here I'd say pretty bad. No light is coming through, so that can't be a good thing."

  "Are you serious? I'm coming up to take a look."

  Tommy clambered up the rocks and joined his friend on the other side of the narrow passage. He stared into the darkness after shutting off his light, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the pitch black.

  "See anything?" Sean asked with only a sliver of hope in his tone.

  "No," Tommy said. "We better have a closer look."

  The two made their way down the other side of the wall and across the large room. Dust particles still clouded the air in big pockets while in other spots the debris had already settled.

  "More ceiling collapsed here," Sean said, pointing at a giant slab that was cracked in half on the floor. "That wasn't here when we came in."

  When they arrived where the entrance used to be, they found nothing but a pile of dirt and rock.

  "You don't happen to have a shovel and a bulldozer in your gear bag, do you?" Tommy asked, trying to shake off his fear with a little humor.

  Sean clicked his tongue and shook his head. "That's probably what it would take to get out of here. Not the shovel. Definitely the bulldozer."

  "Thoughts?"

  "Nothing helpful, off hand."

  Tommy pressed one of the buttons on his phone and checked the screen. "No signal. I was afraid of that."

  "Yeah, I figured."

  Sean neared the pile of rubble and picked out a rock, then another, tossing them aside as he worked.

  "You realize that could take forever, right? Not to mention it could cause another cave-in."

  "I'm not trying to clear it. Just testing how deep it is."

  "And?"

  Sean stopped after nearly a minute of moving the chunks of rock. "We aren't getting out this way. At the base of this mess it could be twenty feet thick."

  Questions flooded the minds of both men.

  Tommy voiced them.

  "Who would do this? I mean, who even knows we're here?"

  "I want to know the answer to that as much as you do," Sean said. "But right now, we need to figure out a way out of here."