by Bobby Akart
“Ahh, the age-old question, one pondered by many a young man,” he began, adopting a serious tone. “You know, sometimes there are choices in life that define you as a man. Do you prefer the sultry redhead with Marilyn Monroe sexiness worthy of a place on your ceiling next to Farrah Fawcett in a bathing suit? Or were you smitten with the girl-next-door charm of Mary Ann, who was cute in her own way, but certainly not the yahoo, let’s get crazy option that Ginger put—”
“Okay, okay!” said Ashby, raising her voice. “I wasn’t looking for a detailed analysis, and I sure didn’t expect you to conjure up your teenage-boy fantasies of Ginger on a poster, on your ceiling, looking down—ugh, whatever!”
Jake had to stop as he roared in laughter. He’d gotten the best of Ashby this time. He just hoped he hadn’t gone too far.
She stood several paces away from him with her arms folded in front of her. Jake instantly regretted that he might have hurt her feelings. He went to hug her, but she pulled away a little bit.
“Come on, Ashby, I’m sorry. I thought you were setting me up to mess with me, so I played it up too much. Seriously, I’m sorry.”
A big smile came over her face. “Ha-ha, gotcha!” She spun away and started running ahead, causing Jake to chase after her.
“Really?” he shouted to her back. “You were acting? That’s it. You’re gonna pay this time!”
Jake was trotting behind her when Ashby suddenly stopped. He slowed his chase before he crashed into her.
“Shhh,” she admonished him to stay quiet. Ashby immediately crouched on one knee and raised the binoculars to her eyes. Jake joined her side.
“Do you see something?” asked Jake.
“Take a look. It’s a town or some kind of business. I can’t really tell.”
Jake took a turn studying the buildings a mile ahead of them. “Looks military,” he deduced. “I see barracks, a central office structure, and a circle made of block containing a flagpole.”
“Do you see any people?”
“No, and the flag is gone. It looks abandoned.” Jake rose from his crouch and assisted Ashby to her feet. He scanned the landscape, looking for any other signs of modernization. Something toward the center of the island caught his attention. “I think I see a landing strip. There’s one building there and a wind sock.”
He handed Ashby the binoculars and she suggested they check it out first. It might hold some clues as to what the facility was used for. After taking in some more water, the two of them made their way toward the landing strip, intrigued, but with their rifles at the ready.
Chapter 28
The Pacific Ocean
Isla Socorro
Jake and Ashby waited fifteen minutes before approaching, taking turns surveilling the facility. There was an airplane hangar adjacent to a single runway, which sat atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. Across the runway was a simple block building with a concrete picnic table in front. There was no signage around the facility, so they assumed it was not a frequently used, public airport.
“Now’s as good a time as any,” said Jake as he rose out of his crouch and handed the binoculars back to Ashby. She quickly stowed them away and followed Jake through the scrub brush as he trotted toward the back of the hangar. Within minutes they were tucked behind the corrugated steel building, breathing heavily from the jog.
“Jake, can we leave the backpacks here while we look around?”
“Good idea. I’ll take the far side and you take this one. Wait until you see me before you break cover. Look for an entry door to the hangar if the hangar isn’t open air.”
“Got it,” said Ashby as she eased past him and slowly walked along the side of the building with her rifle ready. Jake moved quickly but quietly to get into position. At the corner of the building, he was in view of the block building, so he ducked into a crouch. He peered around the corner and saw that Ashby had done the same.
He held his fist out where she could see it. He counted down their approach to the front door, which was closest to Jake. Five fingers, then four, three, two, and one.
Ashby rushed in front of the building toward Jake, and he rolled around the corner with the rifle in his right hand, and using his left, he tried the knob. It was locked.
Jake retreated back to the side of the building, and Ashby ran to join him, tucking herself around the corner by his side.
“I really think the place is abandoned,” said Ashby as her eyes darted around the runway and back to the block building. “Let’s go check it out.”
“I’m not comfortable with walking straight across the runway. We don’t have any cover.”
“I know, Jake, but look around. It’s flat as a board and the plants barely reach our knees. I suppose we could get our backpacks and act like lost hikers.”
“Or we just march across the concrete, rifles ready, and shoot anything that moves.”
“Not a bad option.” Ashby was cool and calm in her demeanor. As far as life in a post-apocalyptic world was concerned, she was more battle hardened than most.
Jake thought for a moment and agreed there wasn’t a better option. Also, he was fairly certain the building was abandoned. He decided to go with Ashby’s plan, with one caveat. He wanted to fire a round or two at the building to flush out any occupants. If there was no movement, then they’d proceed. If someone fired back, they’d grab their gear and run.
He aimed toward the building and fired over its roof. There was no reaction of any kind. This time, he aimed and plugged the wall to the right of the doorway with a round. Plaster splintered as the bullet embedded in the block.
Nothing.
Jake exhaled. “I think we’re good.”
“Leave the backpacks for now?”
“Yeah. Clear first; gather our gear later.”
Still being cautious, they spread out and walked briskly toward the building. They covered the six hundred feet across the runway in a minute and arrived simultaneously. Pressed against the wall, Jake held his hand up, instructing Ashby to wait.
He pounded on the door and shouted, “Open up! No problemo! Ola!”
They waited for a moment and Jake shouldered his rifle. He waved for Ashby to join him. He turned and whispered, “I’m gonna bust the doorjamb open with my knife. Have your rifle ready and cover me.”
Ashby nodded and raised her AR-15 and followed him to the door. Jake stuck the knife blade into the doorjamb near the lock and hit the end of the handle with his fist. Then, using his body weight, he pried the lock open and the door broke free.
Jake pulled his sidearm and kicked the door open. It swung violently into the room, with the door handle crashing into the cinder-block wall. With his weapon leading the way, Jake swung his arm from one side of the small single-room building to the other.
“Clear.”
Ashby followed him in and looked around. “Well, this is exciting.”
“Yeah, not a whole lot to it.”
Jake tried the light switch. A bank of fluorescent lights flickered and then turned on fully. He walked around the desk and looked underneath. He reached down and found some CAT 5 cable, commonly used for internet connections.
“Hang on,” he said as he slipped out the door and walked around to the back of the building.
“What were you looking for?” asked Ashby when he returned.
“Two things—power and internet.”
“Well?”
“Bingo on both, I think. There are solar panels, which accounts for the electricity. I assumed they needed internet to monitor radar and incoming flights, and I was right. There’s a dish on the back side of the roof.”
Ashby looked under the desk and dropped to one knee. She fiddled with the wires and began to pull one of them out. She traced it behind the desk and followed it into a closet, which was locked.
“Jake, do you see any keys in the desk?”
Jake rummaged around and searched through the drawers. “Nope, but I’ve got this.” He pulled his knife again and p
opped the door lock. The closet opened easily, revealing its contents.
Jake called out the contents. “A printer and here’s the modem. We’ve got maps, some office supplies, and several DeWalt battery-operated tools. Good stuff.”
Ashby reached into the closet and touched the modem like she was petting a kitten. “Are you kidding? Internet makes this one heck of an island paradise.”
Jake walked outside to the front of the building. It was midafternoon. Ashby joined his side after pulling the door closed, although it wouldn’t shut entirely.
“There’s gotta be more to this place,” Jake began. “If it’s not part of a drug-smuggling operation, it may be private. I’ve seen no indication of anything military.”
“I vote that we check out the hangar. What if there’s an airplane in there? Think about the possibilities.”
Jake looked at Ashby and beamed. “You are amazing, Dr. Donovan. I didn’t know you could fly.”
Ashby furrowed her brow and started walking across the runway. She pronounced with confidence, “I can’t, but with the internet, I can learn how.”
Jake shook his head, rubbed the sweat off his face, and jogged to catch up with Amelia Earhart.
They broke into the hangar, and unfortunately, or fortunately, depending upon how Jake wanted to look at it, there wasn’t a plane inside. There was, however, an electric Cushman golf cart that was fully charged.
Jake rolled up the hangar door and pulled the golf cart out while Ashby retrieved their backpacks. Minutes later, the hangar door was closed and they were cruising down the runway toward the south side of the island. When they came upon a winding, paved road, the duo knew they were on the right track.
Chapter 29
The Pacific Ocean
Isla Socorro
After traveling four miles up and down gently sloping terrain, they crested a slight rise, where Jake pulled the Cushman to an abrupt halt. Below them, a compound consisting of a variety of buildings came into view. Jake quickly put the golf cart in reverse, and they found a hidden place from which they could observe the facility.
“What kind of place is this?” asked Ashby after she’d taken a turn with the binoculars. “Research facility? It sure isn’t a resort hotel.”
“It might be military,” said Jake. “Toward the center of the complex is a circle drive and a flagpole. Governments like to plant flags. It’s their way of pissing on something.”
“That’s colorful,” said Ashby with a chuckle. “But I get it. Governments are territorial, and they like to let everyone know it. If I recall correctly, San Benedicto is part of Mexico. You have to assume this is, too.”
“Yeah, maybe a naval outpost, or coast guard if they have one.”
Jake nodded to Ashby and they retreated to the golf cart, which was out of the compound’s view.
He continued. “Well, we have a couple of options. We can keep doing surveillance, maybe move around the perimeter to get different angles, but it’s gonna be dark before we know it, which means getting back to the yacht will be difficult.”
“Or,” Ashby interrupted, “we can go in guns blazing like at the airfield.”
Jake shook his head from side to side and frowned. “No. No guns blazing. That worked in a small location like—”
“Jake, relax. I’m just kidding. Listen, I think the whole place is abandoned. What if we ease into the place in the golf cart. Because it’s electric, it’s quiet. Sure, at some point we could proceed on foot, but I don’t think anyone down there is just gonna shoot at us because we borrowed their golf cart.”
“I would,” Jake replied dryly.
“No, you wouldn’t. Come on. Let’s check the place out. Remember, if there are a few military guys around, we can buy an awful lot of diesel with our dollars and gold. It’s not their diesel, and besides, they may not have received the memo that the American economy has collapsed.”
Jake thought for a moment and then acquiesced. “Okay, but you drive. I wanna be ready to return fire if necessary.”
They began the slow ride down the hill until they were a hundred yards away from the compound. Ashby pulled to a stop so they could take in the compound’s layout.
The facility was carved into a hillside with simple block buildings constructed in the center and several residential-looking bungalows constructed up the hill. Down the hill from the center, simple block buildings with metal roofs stretched toward the south shore of the island. Every structure was made of block and stone that had been painted a bright white. On the hillside above the last of the buildings was a forty-panel solar array together with a ground-level water tower.
On the top of the main buildings in the center of the compound were a variety of antennas, all pointed in different directions. There was a large Doppler radar on the hillside between their position and the complex.
“Very interesting,” said Jake. “I love seeing the solar power and the water tank. What I haven’t seen as of yet is movement. There doesn’t appear to—”
Ashby interrupted him by touching his arm. “Shhh, I heard someone.”
Jake readied his rifle and tensed his muscles. “Was it a—?”
They heard a scream followed by a young girl shouting, “No, señor! Déjame solo!”
Another voice yelled, “¡Basta! ¡Por favor.”
Ashby gripped the wheel and started the golf cart down the road again.
Jake grabbed her leg and squeezed her thigh. “Stop. We can’t just barrel in there like this.”
“Jake, they’re in trouble. That was a young girl’s voice!”
“I know, but we have to be smart,” began Jake. He pointed toward the Doppler radar structure. “Ease over there and we’ll find out what’s going on. Okay?”
Ashby nodded and turned off the road toward the small block building with the geodesic-dome-shaped structure on top. They parked behind the building and out of view.
“Nooo!” A girl was pleading for mercy.
“Jake!” Ashby was ready to go.
Jake pulled extra magazines out of the backpack and stuffed them into Ashby’s pants pockets. “Sidearm in the front, AR-15 in the back. Remember?”
She nodded as Jake did the same with his extras. He checked his knife and adjusted his paddle holster. They were ready.
Jake led the way down the hard-packed surface to the back of the first block building. He could hear the sound of male voices, but he couldn’t make out the language they were speaking. It wasn’t English or Spanish.
He glanced around the corner and saw that they could make their way to the next building undetected. He waved his hand, and Ashby followed him quietly through the shadows of the taller structure until they reached a small courtyard between the two. A sidewalk connected them, with a covered awning. A sign on the door of the taller building read la despensa.
“Vieni qui ragazza! No combattimento!”
“He’s Italian,” whispered Ashby. “I recognize it from my trips to Mount Vesuvius.”
Jake nodded and whispered back, “We need a better look. I think they’re in the courtyard, maybe near the main building. Let me work my way around these buildings and I’ll be back.”
He took off as the game of tug-of-war continued on the other side of the buildings. Jake wasn’t sure, but he thought he could make out three male voices in Italian and more than one Spanish-speaking child. He didn’t understand Italian, but he could clearly sense male predator in their tone.
With a new sense of urgency, Jake darted from building to building until he could get a full assessment of what was happening.
Chapter 30
The Pacific Ocean
Isla Socorro
Jake returned to the side of an anxiously awaiting Ashby. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got. There’s a grassy courtyard just below the steps leading up to the compound. My guess is that it’s used for receptions or even for athletic activities like playing soccer because there are several soccer balls scattered about.”
�
�Are they attacking the girls?”
“No, not yet. I think that’s the plan. They’re toying with them right now.”
Ashby stood out of her crouch and gritted her teeth. “Let’s take care of this.”
Jake reached for her arm and pulled her back beside him. “Hold on, we will. Let me finish.”
“Okay.” Ashby nodded sheepishly.
“The good news is that the compound appears to be abandoned. The only signs of life are three guys holding guns and a handful of Mexican kids. I counted two teenage girls and three much younger boys.”
“Where are their parents? Where do they live? Why are there Italian men with guns?”
Jake looked into Ashby’s eyes and gave her a knowing smile. “These are all questions that ran through my head. First things first. We need to get these kids away from these scumbags. While one holds a pistol on the young boys, the other two are harassing the teenage girls, pawing at their clothes in between taking swigs of alcohol out of a clear bottle.”
“Sambuca,” interrupted Ashby.
“What?”
“Sambuca was the favorite liqueur of Italian men,” replied Ashby. “They drank it straight or in their coffee. Are they drunk?”
“I can’t say for certain, but they are full of themselves. Here’s what I want to do.”
Jake laid out the plan and Ashby provided her own twist. When they agreed on the timing, Jake headed back to his prior observation point, and Ashby steadied her nerves. She made her way to the building closest to Jake’s position, but in clear view of the attackers.
She took a deep breath, removed the hair clasp that held her ponytail together, and bent over at the waist to shake her long hair. Ashby was going to be the bait.
As instructed, she slid her paddle holster to the back side of her hip so that it would be out of view as she entered the clearing. She unbuttoned two more buttons on her blouse and allowed a little more skin to show. She was ready.