by Akart, Bobby
He turned his headlights back on and headed toward the road once again. He was almost there when two men appeared in the road in front of him. Briscoe didn’t hesitate. Using his knees to hold the steering wheel steady, he raised the rifle and took aim. Just as he squeezed the trigger, the Mule jerked to the right, knocking his rifle against the roof support and sending the bullet flying into the sky, well over the head of his target.
Two weapons opened fire upon the Mule, raking the front end of the vehicle with bullets. Briscoe dropped the rifle and regained control of the four-wheeler. He reached into his jacket pocket and fumbled for his pistol.
The four-wheeler hit a pothole, and the left side suddenly dropped down before careening upward. This last jolt caused Briscoe to lose control of the gun, and his ride.
The Mule sped forward, but then took a hard left turn down an embankment, where it crashed into a fallen tree. Briscoe was thrown forward, over the steering wheel and headfirst into a pine tree. The softer wood did nothing to suppress the impact the pine had on Briscoe’s scalp, which was now laid open, exposing the raw nerves and blood vessels surrounding his skull.
Briscoe lay on a bed of pine needles, staring skyward, his twitching body numb from the contact with the tree. Warm blood oozed down his face, blocking his vision. He wanted to slip into unconsciousness. He wanted to die. He wanted this to be over.
It was not his time, yet.
“Is he still alive?”
Two fingers pressed against Briscoe’s neck. Then the person wiped them off on her shirt.
“Amazingly, yes.” A female voice. Maybe she’d have mercy.
Briscoe tried to discern if he was dreaming, semiconscious, or having an out-of-body experience. Somehow, his brain was functioning at a very high level of awareness, but he was unable to see or move his body on his own.
Maybe it was for the best, he thought. If he played dead, like an opossum, they’d leave him be. Those little critters get stressed and go into shock. They look comatose for hours. You leave them lying there and suddenly, voila, they wake up and mosey off to look for something to eat. No harm. No foul.
That sounded like a plan, Briscoe’s borderline delusional brain told itself. His ability to reason and comprehend had been replaced with irrational thoughts brought on by the intense pain he was feeling.
That’s the ticket. Play opossum. Take a little break. They’ll go away, and then I can just gather my strength later and go home. Back to Monocacy Farm. A place where I have always been comfortable.
Except for the ghosts of the caretaker and his wife, who surely would be waiting for him.
Briscoe waited and listened as the voices became muffled. They faded in and out as his consciousness came and went.
Come on, people! Go away!
He was screaming internally, trying not to move as he played the opossum game.
His pleas were not heard and, therefore, were ignored.
“Let’s drag him up to the house and see what Alpha wants to do.” A male voice gave the orders. “Everybody grab an arm or a leg.”
What? No! I’m dead, see?
“On three. One. Two. Three!”
With a jerk, Briscoe was hoisted into the air, and it wasn’t to be taken by the angels to meet God. He was, however, destined for Judgment Day.
Chapter Forty-One
Schwartz Lodge
Kutztown, Pennsylvania
Alpha worked with his recollection of the lodge’s floor plan obtained by X-Ray during his search of building department records connected to the FBI’s massive data-collection program. In today’s world there was very little information stored electronically that hadn’t been backed up by federal law enforcement. If it was stored at the state or local level of government, then the federal government had a mirror image of the data at their disposal as well.
He and Hayden meticulously moved through the house, not taking any risks in their search for Jonathan Schwartz. Alpha was relieved that the two men appeared to be alone. The human factor was the single biggest cause of a raid going bad, Delta had cautioned.
After clearing the lower level, they moved up the sweeping wooden staircase that led to a landing overlooking the living area below. The smoke from the grenades had begun to dissipate, mostly being sucked up through the chimney as the fire began to burn out due to lack of attention.
Every once in a while, Alpha would call out for the men, not knowing whether they’d both escaped via the four-wheeler, or possibly left one behind in the house. Thus far, their search had been fruitless; then they reached a game room upstairs that featured a full-size snooker table and several gaming tables, including blackjack and poker.
Hayden motioned toward two sets of patio doors leading to a large balcony on the north side of the residence. One of the doors was left slightly open, just enough to allow fresh air to enter the space.
Alpha and Hayden approached the doors simultaneously, once again moving slowly in a crouched position. They scanned the glass doors in search of movement, prepared to unleash a barrage of gunfire if either Briscoe or Schwartz showed themselves.
They reached the door and Alpha took the lead, moving out on the deck and dropping to a knee in a defensive position. Just as they had cleared the rooms inside the lodge, Hayden took the left side of the deck while Alpha moved right. The massive deck structure spanned the entire width of the lodge and included a spiral staircase made of wrought iron at the end.
Once they realized they were alone and that one of the men might have escaped using the staircase, Alpha relaxed and then slammed his fist on the deck railing.
“Are you kidding me?” he complained, clearly aggravated that they hadn’t taken into account the rear exit.
Hayden picked up on his aggravation and offered an excuse. “Listen, this deck wasn’t supposed to be here. Heck, the plans didn’t even show those patio doors.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb.
Alpha strutted along the railing, looking over the side as if one of his targets might suddenly appear to wave hello. He shook his head out of frustration and aggravation.
Hayden joined his side. “Whadya wanna do? We can track—”
Hayden’s sentence was cut off by the sound of gunfire coming from the east end of the property. Radio chatter erupted between Bravo and Delta as more shots rang out.
The two rushed to the end of the deck closest to the action and held their breath, focusing their senses on the gun battle. A few more shots rang out and then they suddenly stopped.
Alpha hesitated, and then after sixty seconds, he reached out to the two teams on the radio. “Sitrep.”
Bravo quickly responded, “One tango down. Stand by.”
Alpha looked to Hayden and smiled. They exchanged fist bumps.
“Bravo to Alpha. Over.”
“Go ahead, Bravo.”
“We’ve got Briscoe. ID confirmed. He’s alive but banged up.”
“Copy that,” Alpha replied. “Bring him back to the lodge. We’ve got one on the run. Foxy and I’ll hunt him down. Over.”
Alpha adjusted his gear and motioned toward the spiral staircase. “Let’s track this SOB down.”
“Lead the way,” Hayden said, patting the much larger Alpha on his shoulder. The two had grown closer as they’d worked together at the Haven, in the rescue of Hannah, and now. They knew how to anticipate each other’s movements and had confidence in one another’s abilities to have their back.
Alpha jogged to the stairwell and sailed to the bottom. A trail was clearly visible, and he followed it, racing through the woods in order to make up for lost time. He assumed that under the intense pressure, Schwartz would’ve relied upon familiar trails to get away from the house as quickly as possible.
They continued along the path for another fifteen minutes, following what they hoped was Schwartz’s trail. Neither spoke, which served them well, as they didn’t want to give away their position. Despite his large build, Alpha had learned to track an adversary by movin
g lightly on his feet. Hayden, who’d hunted all her life, possessed the skill of movement that only a seasoned hunter had—a deerlike gait.
They reached a fallen pine tree and paused to examine it. The top bark had been kicked off, revealing the white underside of the bare wood. On the other side, in the wet bed of pine needles and loose dirt, were the indentations of knees and hands.
“He tripped here,” said Hayden, who then pointed a few feet beyond the tree that blocked the trail. “He landed there, and look at how he dug his feet into the wet ground to gain traction.”
“Panicked,” muttered Alpha.
“Yes.”
Alpha led the way. In the darkness, the woods became a two-dimensional world. A canvas that he’d been trained to divide into thirds. His eyes constantly scanned left to right, right to left, and then forward as he pressed the pursuit. If he detected any movement, he raised his fist and the duo quickly stopped, adopted a defensive position, and used their senses to identify a possible target.
After ten more minutes of searching, Alpha became concerned. “This is taking too long. Under the tree cover, we have no ambient light, and he has the advantage of knowing the trail. Let’s go to flashlights.”
“Won’t that give us away?” asked Hayden.
“Sure, but it might also force him into making a mistake. This guy’s scared out of his mind. His hasty retreat caused him to trip over that log back there. If he sees us coming, he might fall again and hurt himself this time.”
Hayden powered on the SureFire tactical flashlight attached to the rails on her AR-10. Alpha did the same and they took off again, the beams from their flashlights illuminating a narrow path through the thick underbrush that became more prevalent the farther away they got from the lodge.
The woods became denser as the duo trudged up the path, needle-covered branches reaching out to grab them along the way. Up ahead, the chatter of raccoons followed the screech of an owl. The woods came alive as the wildlife detected the hunters’ approach.
Alpha ignored the cacophony of sounds, remaining completely in tune with his surroundings. Periodically, he’d stop to examine a broken branch. Hayden would point out a possible trail that veered off the main path. They’d take a moment to examine the ground for tracks and then continue on their west-southwest course away from the lodge.
Alpha recalled the plat map of the property and its proximity to the adjacent state game lands preserve. It was likely they were no longer on the Schwartz property, as they’d traveled at least a mile from the house.
They ran up a hill, and when they reached the top, they had a fairly clear view of their surroundings. Alpha stopped their progress and retrieved his binoculars from a pouch attached to his tactical vest. He scanned his surroundings, making a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn. He’d almost completely circled the landscape when he abruptly stopped.
“Foxy, I need another set of eyes,” he barked to his partner.
Hayden pulled out her field glasses and joined his side. Alpha pointed ahead toward a one-lane road that could barely be seen. A beam of light danced across an open field, periodically shooting into the sky.
“That’s gotta be him,” said Hayden. “I’ve got a bead on his location. If I remember correctly from studying the maps, there’s a place just west of here called Crystal Cave. It’s a local attraction full of underground rock formations and caverns. He’s headed that way.”
Alpha didn’t hesitate as he tucked his binoculars away and began to run down the hill. He wasn’t in the shape he was years ago, but a soldier never rested.
Hayden, on the other hand, was a runner and could easily outpace Alpha. She rushed past him and took the lead. She had her bearings, and running through the woods reminded her of her childhood years when she spent so much time at her family farm in Upper East Tennessee.
She also recalled the days she’d spent spelunking, exploring the many limestone rock formations and caves that were prevalent in the Smoky Mountains. That was, of course, before she went into a cave one day and got stuck. She’d learned to deal with the claustrophobia that plagued her into adulthood, until it reared its ugly head on New Year’s Eve when she was momentarily stuck on the elevator in her office building.
She tried to put the thought of searching for Schwartz in a darkened cave out of her mind as she enjoyed the cool air entering her lungs. Invigorated and enjoying the thrill of the hunt, she began to leave Alpha behind, who was struggling to keep her pace. To his credit, he didn’t slow her down, allowing her to catch Schwartz on her own if necessary.
Hayden resembled a thoroughbred horse as she skillfully raced along the trail toward the open field beyond. She kept her eyes trained on where the dancing light had appeared earlier. When the woods opened up into the field, she smiled as the appearance of the broken stems of the tall grasses provided evidence that Schwartz had recently been there.
“We’re coming for ya,” she whispered through her deep breaths, not bothering to notice that Alpha had fallen well behind her.
Chapter Forty-Two
Crystal Cave
Near Kutztown, Pennsylvania
Jonathan Schwartz stumbled ahead, occasionally glancing over his shoulder in search of the people chasing him. His hands were bleeding, not from the fall that had occurred early on during his escape, but from pushing tree branches and sticker bushes out of the way as he rumbled through the woods in a state of panic.
When he left the house, he’d planned on finding his way to the barn to uncover one of the stolen vehicles and make his way to the highway. After running for fifteen minutes, he realized that he’d missed the trail that led to the barn closest to the northern boundary of the property, and his fear prevented him from doubling back to locate it.
As an alternative, he recalled a place that he’d discovered when he first came to the lodge with his father. With a final check on his pursuers, he crossed the one-lane country road and approached a steep hill that overlooked the east end of Kutztown. At the bottom of the hill was the entrance to a local geological attraction known as Crystal Cave.
The historic site—which was now surrounded by hiking trails, a picnic park, and even an eighteen-hole miniature golf course—was a favorite weekend destination of travelers, who enjoyed ice cream, geological souvenirs like collectible minerals, and exploring caves.
During Jonathan’s first visit to Crystal Cave, his governess took him through the attraction the same way other families were accustomed to doing. But Jonathan was an explorer and he had his father’s penchant for finding alternative means to doing things. He’d roamed the state preserve adjacent to the Schwartz property and eventually expanded his day trips to the land surrounding Crystal Cave. Tonight, with his life depending on it, Jonathan would find out if his memory of those childhood days served him well.
It did.
He located the narrow dark hole that entered the side of the steep hill overlooking the miniature golf course. The first time he found it, curiosity had led him inside. It was his courage, however, that allowed him to ignore the total darkness and the fear of the unknown and venture farther. He was rewarded with the discovery of a new void, a space large enough for a dozen people, that contained a small underground pond created by rain runoff.
This became his special place. A cavern in which he could come to be alone with his thoughts, without the pressure of his father trying to teach him the ways of the world or an overbearing governess beating him over the head about his manners.
Unlike his first adventure in the cave, when he had nothing more than a pack of matches to create light, he had a flashlight this time. He pointed the light into the hole and smiled as the familiarity of his hiding spot appeared to be unchanged. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he dropped onto his butt and slid through the grass until he was able to slowly drop himself into the cave.
The natural void in the ground, formed by the weathering of rock and the water runoff from the hillside, was no longer undisturbed, as h
e’d found it many years ago. Although it had not been incorporated into the Crystal Cave attraction, it had been discovered by local kids.
The inside was littered with cigarette butts, beer cans, and girlie magazines. Articles of clothing, empty wallets, and trash were strewn about. The once beautiful natural formation had not only been desecrated with graffiti on the cavern walls, but it smelled and looked like a partially emptied dumpster.
Jonathan shook his head in disgust as the fond memories of a place he’d learned to love as a kid were now ruined. However, it still could serve its original purpose—a hiding spot from those who wanted to control him or, in this case, kill him.
He caught his breath and then used his flashlight to get reacquainted with the interior of the cave. Appearing throughout the cavern were a variety of stalagmites, drapery formations, and calcite crystals, all geologic wonders that he’d learned about as he became more fascinated with caves in general.
He made his way deeper into the cave and found a canopy-like formation that he’d often used as a bed to sleep. He shook his head in disgust as he found an old mattress on the rock slab underneath the canopy. Using two fingers, he grabbed the mattress by the cording and dragged it out into the middle of the room.
Jonathan was ready to get settled in, comforted in knowing that they’d never find him. He felt for his handgun in his pocket and pulled it out. Then he stretched out on the rocky floor under the canopy and placed the weapon on his belly, allowing his breathing to cause the gun to rise and fall in a rhythmic motion.
Jonathan was ready to think about his future and how he was prepared to take a chance and reach out to his security team now. He had no other place to go since the lodge had been discovered by whoever was pursuing him. Once this imminent threat had passed, and his pursuers moved on, he’d reach out to his team and order them to take him to safety.