Buzz raised his revolver and looked along the barrel. They were running away from him, toward the house, all three of them presenting a single target. He could barely miss. But still, his shot went wide, but his second round hit, and the middle figure collapsed to the ground as the others went for the cover of the laboratory, leaving Max to scamper around the back of the barn.
Ted Pope appeared at the door, then flinched as splinters exploded beside his head. The shot had come from somewhere off to Buzz’s right from within the trees. It was followed by a burst from an automatic that punched into the wooden walls, causing a fog of dust to surround the building. As the echoes died, Buzz could hear the screaming of children from inside the farmhouse.
He plunged into the trees, heading for where he guessed the gunfire was coming from, as another burst of automatic fire tore into the farm, joined from below as the surviving fighters emerged to run toward the house.
Buzz froze as more gunfire erupted. He’d miscalculated. It was coming from just below him. He made like a crab and edged his way closer before peering between the branches to look down. A figure in camouflage lay on its front, cradling an assault rifle and looking along the barrel. The initial onslaught had become a selective targeting of the farmhouse windows and doors, keeping those inside pinned down. Buzz glanced beyond the shooter to see the body of Dom, unmoving in red-stained snow and mud near that of the leader and two other uniformed figures.
Buzz raised the revolver and took aim. Could he shoot someone in the back? In cold blood? Then the shooter moved a little and, with a shock, Buzz could see that it was unmistakably a woman. What should he do? Get her to surrender? Yes, that was the only option. He was no killer.
Then movement caught his eye. There, below them, the shattered farmhouse door opened and someone darted out. Maisie!
Buzz watched in horror as the shooter snapped the rifle around and took aim.
Without thinking, he jumped down, landing on the woman’s back. Caught by surprise and winded, she collapsed onto the rifle and then, as quick as a snake, she kicked out backwards and he roared with pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw figures running out of the open farmhouse door. Or were they running in? More gunfire cracked from below him, but he was busy.
The shooter had jumped on top of him. A flash of metal caught his eye and he thrust his arm up to catch the knife in his left hand before it could plunge into his chest. He smashed the revolver into the fighter’s temple with every ounce of his strength and the expression of rage vanished as she crumpled sideways.
Buzz grabbed the rifle and stood, keeping half an eye on his unconscious prisoner while bringing the weapon to bear. It looked as though Ted Pope had rushed out of the house after Maisie. The ferocity of his attack had driven the remaining soldiers back, but he was now pinned down, out in the open, sheltering behind the body of the black-suited leader who’d been the first to die in this bloodbath.
From his vantage point, he could see someone emerge from the far end of the barn containing the stock room, and make his way around toward where Ted crouched. Buzz brought the rifle to his eye and squeezed the trigger. Just then Tom appeared, rushing at the fighter and disappearing from Buzz’s view in the cloud of exploding mud and snow.
Buzz cried out in fear, and almost missed his prisoner’s movement. Just in time, he stamped down on her hand, feeling the sickening crunch of bones breaking. He stepped back, put the rifle over his shoulder and pointed the revolver at her.
“I don’t want to shoot you, but make no mistake I will. My friends are down there, and at least one of them is dead. Now, move!”
“You broke my hand!”
“Move!”
As he waved the revolver, he saw Pope get up and look to where Tom had been. Then Buzz let out a sigh of relief as Tom emerged, pushing a soldier forward at the point of his weapon. The man looked back to the lab door and waved, and the last fighter emerged with his hands in the air.
It was only then that Buzz noticed that Maisie wasn’t moving, but lay perfectly still, slumped over Dom’s body.
Ted pushed her and Buzz saw the pool of red melting the snow.
He got up, turned to see Tom approaching him, then Ted raised his weapon and shot Tom’s prisoner in the head.
Tom roared in outrage as the man dropped, then lunged at Pope as the remaining prisoner spun around and went for the rifle he’d just thrown to the floor. The special agent felled him with a shot between the shoulder blades before Tom could reach him.
“Don’t even think about doing anything,” Buzz said, though he could barely make his jaw move. He felt like his blood had turned to ice. Had he really just witnessed two summary executions?
“Might as well be shot for trying to escape as go down there and be executed,” the woman said. She had a soft accent he couldn’t quite place, and her skin color, which he’d thought was Hispanic, now looked more East Asian.
“I won’t let him do it,” Buzz said.
“Right. How will you stop him?”
Buzz gestured down the slope as Ted kneeled beside the bodies of Dom and Maisie. “Do as I say and you stand a chance. Try anything and I’ll shoot you where you stand. You choose.”
She looked at him, read the determination in his eyes and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do that. Doctor Baxter.”
He ignored the fact she’d recognized him. He had been, after all, the target of the raid. He nudged her in the back, encouraging her down the path until they emerged at the side gate, which had been forced open, presumably during the attack.
They made it almost to the farmhouse before they were noticed.
“Stop, or I fire!” It was Pope’s voice, accompanied by the squelching of his boots over the snowy mud.
“Ted, it’s me!” Buzz called out, stepping into view and feeling a sudden stab of fear as Pope’s pistol swung around to point at him.
Then it swung back, and Pope grabbed the prisoner’s collar and thrust his gun against her temple.
“Ted! I promised we wouldn’t shoot her unless she tried to escape.”
Buzz could see the muzzle digging into the skin of her head as she winced, trying to bend backwards.
“You don’t understand! If we let any of them go, they’ll betray us. They’ll be able to tell SaPIEnT enough to make sure they don’t fail next time. They killed our people, Buzz!”
Buzz shook his head. “That doesn’t mean we should do the same.”
“Tell me this,” Pope said, as the fury drained from his shaking arm. “What if they’d killed Jo?”
He lowered his arm as Tom took hold of the prisoner’s arm. “Tie her up good, Tom. She’s a killer.” He turned his back and stalked off to where Anna was draping a blanket over the bodies of Dom and his wife.
“Well done,” Tom said. “She would have killed everyone. I got the other sniper, but I saw one of them sneaking around to attack from behind, so I had to go after him and leave the other to you.”
“I thought I’d shot you,” Buzz said.
“And that would make you sad?”
“Of course,” Buzz said. And he found he meant it.
He watched Tom head toward the barn. The only place to keep a prisoner was the room Buzz had used to extract serum from him. The room had no windows, and had a secure lock. But they’d have to watch the survivor. If she could get out, Buzz had no doubt she would.
Buzz headed toward the house. Now the adrenaline had subsided a little, he needed to see Jo and, of course, check on the state of the building and the children inside.
She threw herself at him the instant he appeared in the living room where the children were sitting, hands around their knees, shell-shocked.
“Oh, thank God! Is it over?” She hugged him, hands trembling.
“Yeah.”
She whispered, “Is it true about Dom and Maisie?”
“I’m sorry,” Buzz said, looking over her shoulder at their daughter, Crystal, who sat hugging herself, head cast down.
Jo
pulled back and wiped her nose. “I’d better tell her.”
“Yeah, and I need to go find Max.”
He kissed her on the lips as they separated. Then, quite suddenly, she came in close again and breathed into his ear, “I should have said yes. I’m sorry.”
He said nothing, just let her go and went looking for Max. If she had said yes, then they would be married now, but the raid had turned everything upside down again, and they had their dead to bury.
Chapter 20
Jail
It was the sun that woke him. Pink light crept into his consciousness, then he tried to open his eyes. But he couldn’t! He cried out, first in fear, then in pain as he pulled apart his eyelids with his fingers. More pain followed, this time lancing through his mind as it fought against the panic and to orient itself.
“You really cannot take your drink, can you?”
He rolled over to see Yuri looking at him. There was no hint of his usual humor, though his face looked a healthier color than it had…when?
“Where are we?” He sat up, his eyes finally focusing properly. He saw a thin mattress and bars. “Oh h—”
“Now, now.” It was a redheaded woman standing on the other side of the bars. She was stout, looked in her mid-thirties, wore a deputy’s uniform and was wagging her finger. “Don’t go makin’ things even worse by blasphemin’. H-E-Double Hockey Sticks is not the kind of language we allow around here. But at least you sound like an American, even if you ain’t exactly one of us.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I’ll leave your German friend here to fill you in. Sheriff’ll be here presently, and he’ll be the one who decides what to do with you. If it were up to me…”
Bobby watched her go away, then rubbed his eyes, trying to moisten them a little. He didn’t want to think about the sort of punishment she would think appropriate. Eternal, in all likelihood.
“German?”
Yuri shrugged. “I thought Russian would not get treated so well. But German is bad also, it seems. Here.”
He handed over a bottle of water that Bobby quickly emptied. “And bucket is there when you need.”
“What happened?”
“CCTV. They found two drunks and brought them here.”
“How much did we drink?”
“All of it.”
“No wonder I don’t remember anything.”
Yuri got to his feet and walked over to the bars. To his right was an identical, but empty, cell. A white brick corridor ran along the other side of the bars, and the bricks formed the left and back walls of their prison. “You were pathetic. Called out for Maria. And who is Ellie? Your wife? Is another name for Eve?”
Bobby felt the blood draining from his face as he stared openmouthed at Yuri. “Ellie is—was—Maria’s mom. She died in the flood.”
“You know this?”
“She was in Florida. I know it as much as you know your wife is dead. I’m sorry,” he added, seeing the renewed pain in Yuri’s face.
The Russian nodded sadly. “Is okay. I know pain. But is all over now.”
“Why? They won’t hold us for long, especially with things as they are outside. As long as we tell a good story, they’ll be glad to get shot of us.”
“No, my friend. They have SD card.”
“What?”
“It was round my neck. They found it. Put aside for sheriff.”
Bobby groaned. “So, we just wait for all this to unravel, do we?”
“We have no choice. Unless we persuade sheriff to call Ragtown.”
“That’s pretty desperate. We went AWOL, don’t forget. And I don’t trust everyone there.”
“And you stole Humvee.”
Nodding, Bobby went to sit beside Yuri. “I’m sorry. We got close, didn’t we?”
“Close, but no cigarette.”
“So, fellas, are you fixin’ on givin’ me any trouble?”
Bobby woke up again out of a nap to see a man with gray hair and a Stetson looking at him. His blue eyes sparkled as he regarded them, as if he was delighted.
“No, Sheriff,” Bobby said, suppressing a yawn.
“Good, because I’ve got some questions I’d like some answers for. So, you and me,” he said, pointing at Bobby, “are gonna spend a little time gettin’ acquainted.”
Bobby got up, and Yuri went to follow him. “Oh no, comrade,” the sheriff said, shaking his head. “Maybe your turn will come later, but I’m gonna talk to my countryman here. I don’t like Ruskies.”
The redheaded deputy pulled open the cell door, her eyes moving from Bobby to Yuri as if daring them to misbehave. Behind her stood a third officer—a young, worried-looking man who looked thoroughly uncomfortable in his uniform.
Bobby took his place behind the sheriff and followed him along the corridor, through a reinforced door and into the office. Perhaps a dozen officers and support staff occupied the cubicles, but it was the scene beyond it, through the windows, that caught Bobby’s breath. It was white. Pure white.
The female deputy nudged him in the ribs to make him move forward, and the sheriff led him into the interview room, its one window high up on the wall and filled with obscured glass that showed white beyond.
“Darndest weather I ever did see,” the sheriff said, taking a seat as he motioned for Bobby to sit down. “Darlene, go get us a coffee, will you?”
The female deputy’s expression froze as her skin flushed. She shot a look with razor-sharp edges at the sheriff and stalked off.
“This here’s Clayton,” he said, motioning to the young deputy. “And I’m Sheriff Filmore Cline. You’re…” he said, glancing down at the charge sheet, “Roberto Rodriguez, residing in Ventura, California. Formerly, I take it.”
Bobby’s eyes snapped to the sheriff, but he saw only compassion in his bright blue eyes, framed in deep wrinkles that spoke of his own tragedies. “Yeah. I got out with my daughter.”
“Where’d you make it to?”
“Ragtown, Boulder City.”
The Sheriff raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? What brings you here, then? With that Ruskie? You know he was carryin’ a computer card. Clayton tells me it’s for photos. He a spy?”
Bobby laughed out loud, surprising himself and slapping his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry. But Yuri, a spy? Do we look like secret agents?”
“When we found you last night, you looked like hobos. But I’ve learned not to judge a book by its cover, if you take my meanin’. And I’m old enough to remember when the Soviets were enemy number one.”
Bobby rubbed his eyes again, trying desperately to grease the wheels of his mind. If he said the wrong thing next, then everything could unravel. But what choice did he have? The truth would come out eventually. Better it did so under his control. “His name is Yuri Sharipov. He was a flight engineer on the International Space Station. He made an emergency evacuation when a Chinese vessel tried to take it over, and landed in a capsule in the desert. I was among a squad of soldiers from Ragtown sent to intercept it. We got ambushed, but I escaped with Sharipov and we were making our way to Denver to meet with the president so he could hand over proof of a Chinese plot to…well, I don’t know what they were doing, but the evidence is on that card.”
He blurted that out in one burst as the sheriff watched him with wide-eyed astonishment. Then it was Cline’s turn to burst out laughing. He slapped his deputy on the shoulder as if he was almost insensible with mirth. “Clayton,” he said, wiping his eyes, “you go help Darlene. I think I need a snort of my extra-special coffee. She knows where it is. It’s okay, I can manage our friend here, he’s no threat to me.”
The sheriff carried on chuckling to himself as the young man left. Then, the moment the door was closed, he stopped, leaned forward and pointed at Bobby. “Now you listen to me, and you listen good. We’ve only got a few minutes before they come back.”
“What do you mean?” Bobby managed.
“Tell me how the other guys in your squad died.”<
br />
“What?”
“Quickly!”
Bobby searched his mind and summarized what had happened. “I went back for Sergeant Duarte, but there were too many of them, and he’d ordered me to keep Sharipov safe. I wanted to at least try to get him out of there, but he saw me. Then I heard them saying they were expecting a bird to pick up the capsule. I knew we had to get away if the Chinese weren’t to get their hands on Yuri and his intelligence.”
“And you say they were Chinese troops?”
“Yeah, though one of our squad turned traitor. It was him who killed Jam and Eddie. I had to get Yuri away or it would all be for nothing.”
The sheriff held his gaze for a moment before nodding. “I believe you, son. Heaven help me, but I wish you weren’t here. But I believe you. You see, I got orders sent through yesterday. Two sets of orders, in fact. As far as I know, they were sent to every county sheriff’s office in Nevada. One came from the state government in Vegas puttin’ all law enforcement departments on alert. Seems some renegade stole a Humvee. He’s suspected of killing his comrades and abducting a Russian operative. Sound familiar?”
Bobby’s jaw hit the floor. “They’re accusing me? My God…”
“The other order was from the county office. We were to put extra security on the airport. No unauthorized flights to be permitted. Suspects to be held and their details sent along the chain of command. I only called the patrol off when the snow started.”
Bobby sat there in a state of shock. He felt as though the world was looking for him, throwing a net over the two of them that was slowly tightening.
“What do you know about the snow?” the sheriff asked.
Shrugging, Bobby said, “Nothing, except that it’s not just happening here. Yuri said he watched the world turning white from up on the ISS.”
“Folks will be out making snowmen and sledges, but they’ll get tired of it mighty quickly if it stays around. And then the food will run short, the water pipes will freeze up. Then we’ll have real trouble. Now, there might be no connection between what this astronaut saw and the weather, but someone seems to be awful keen to get a hold of him. Maybe handing you both over is the right thing to do—that’s what my orders say, after all…”
Ice: Deluge Book 4: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Story) Page 17